The
Ranums'
Panat Times
Volume 1, redone Dec. 2014
The Deaths of Mademoiselle de Guise (1688)
and Madame de Guise (1696)
In my Musing about Marc-Antoine Charpentier's treble clefs, and about what they can tell us about possible re-workings or re-copyings of a dozen or so works, I proposed that instrumental music added to H. 2 and the apparent recopying of all of cahier 5 (which, judging from the contours of the clef, make have taken place after 1680) were perhaps redone in 1688, for the burial of Marie de Lorraine, that is, "Mademoiselle de Guise." I did not, however, rule out the possibility that these new sheets could conceivably date from 1696, and the death of Isabelle d'Orléans, that is, "Madame de Guise."
In hopes that information about the circumstances and the death and burial dates of these two princesses may contribute to our understanding of these possible reworkings/recopyings, I have decided to tell the tales of each great lady's demise.
Mademoiselle de Guise, March 1688
Born on the Feast of the Assumption of 1615, Marie de Lorraine celebrated her seventy- second birthday in 1687. With the autumn, it became increasingly clear that Her Highness was ill, but the princess herself would not hear talk of it. Gossip nonetheless began to circulate, focusing on three subjects: her health; her possible bequests; and whether her children by her secret marriage to Montrésor be allowed to inherit. The Marquis de Sourches summarized the state of affairs: "Au commencement du mois de mars," he wrote," Mlle de Guise commença à être si malade qu'on désèspéra de sa vie; elle avoit porté longtemps une gangrène au bras, qu'on avoit toujours arrêtée par la force des remèdes; mais la nature commençait à manquer, les médecins commencèrent aussi à dire qu'il n'y avoit plus de remède, et le public commença à raisonner sur sa succession" (II, p. 143).
As early as mid-February, Mlle de Guise's declining health was a popular topic of conversation. For example, Mère Renville, Carmelite of the convent on the rue du Bouloy, wrote to her Florentine contact: "Mademoiselle de Guise est malade tres perileusement. On dit que c'est d'un cancer qu'elle a depuis dix-sept ans." (Florence, Archivio di Stato, Med. del Prin., 4826, Feb. 15, 1688).
That same week, Zipoli, the Tuscan agent in Paris, relayed the following information to Florence: "Mlle de Guise est malade depuis quelques jours d'un rumatisme fort douleureux qui est mêlé d'autres accidents fâcheux qui font croire la maladie dangereuse. On croit même qu'elle est menacée d'un cancère. Il y a à cette occasion un grand mouvement parmi ceux qui prétendnat à sa succession" (Med. del Prin., 4793, Feb. 16, 1688); and a week later he brought the subject up again: "Icy Mlle de Guise est fort malade, quoy qu'elle le cache. Tout le monde s'anpresse à luy faire la cour pour en érité; mais comme elle a beaucoup de debtes, personne n'en aura rien qu'apres bien des proces" — to which Mlle de Guise's old friend, Gondi, replied, "l'age avancé de Mademoiselle de Guise me fait croire que sa maladie pourra estre la derniere, et je tiens que ses vrays heritiers pourront estre les creanciers de sa maison." (Med. del Prin., 4785, Feb. 22, 1688) The latter supposition proved incorrect: during the final half-dozen years of her life, Mlle de Guise had worked very hard to repay all overdue interest on loans. True, the debts of the House of Guise totalled two million livres, but "il n'est presque dû aucuns arrerages, à cause du bon ordre qu'elle avoit mis dans ses affaires depuis quelques années" (Med. del Prin., 4793, "nouvelles")
And her children by Montrésor? Did Marie de Lorraine make their existence known, thereby adding further complications to her clever will? Atto Melani, another Florentine agent, did not think so, asserting that she made no mention of them in her will, nor in any more "covert" way (Med. del Prin., 4802, Apr. 12, 1688). He was mistaken: Mlle de Guise alluded to a daughter in a super-covert way, insisting in two codicilles that the Sœur des Martyres, a nun at Montmartre, be given a pension. References to these children can be found in several documents of the day, the most explicit being: "Mademoiselle de Guise avoit eu plusieurs enfans de M. de Montrésor. On croit que l'Evesque d'Autun a pieusement fait mettre in pacé un fils, et que deux filles furent religieuses à Montmartre, ausquelles elle avoit fait 1200 l. de pension chacune. On croit que l'une de ces filles est la sœur des Martirs" (BN, ms. Clairambault, 1130, f. 122v). Another sources comments that "On soupçonne la défunte d'avoir eu un mariage de conscience avec feu M. de Montrésor, gentilhomme de qualité et de mérite. On disoit même qu'ils avoient eu plusieurs enfans ensemble, dont il restoit deux filles" (Mercure historique et politique, 1688, p. 279). Another allusion to Montrésor can be found in Dangeau: "Mademoiselle de Guise étoit fort magnifique et fort glorieuse, et avoit épousé secrètement un cadet de Bourdeille si connu dans la cabale des Importants sous le nom de Montrésor" (Mémoires, II, p. 116n). Dangeau either was not aware of the children's existence, or did not believe it: "Il ... n'en eut point d'enfants."
Père de la Chaize came to visit the dying princess each afternoon, spending a "demy quart d'heure" with her. Roger de Gaignières, her écuyer, and Gabriel de Roquette, bishop of Autun, journeyed to Versailles to prepare the king for the shocking contents of the will. And the little group of people admitted to Mlle de Guise's private quarters began preparing her for death. Each day, Gaignières jotted down his observations. On the last Saturday of February, "Madame" (apparently Madame de Guise) came to the Hôtel de Guise in the afternoon. "On avoit resolu de faire recevoir Notre Seigneur la nuit à cinq heures du matin," but, he continued, "l'on eut grand soin de le cacher à Mademoiselle [de Montpensier], qui l'aprit à Versailles" — and who expressed her resentment to Autun in no uncertain terms.
On Monday morning, "brûlurent papiers à la prière de La Chaise et Du Bois," noted Gaignières. That afternoon, Mlle de Guise received extreme unction, and the dying woman signed a new codicile to her will. That evening the future executors assembled, examined the documents and decided to go to the Luxembourg to see Mademoiselle, and to the Hôtel de Condé, to talk with Monsieur le Prince, to inform them that they did not intend to contest the will, the king having informed them, at Versailles, that they should let justice take its course. "Nous fumes, M. Le Brun [Mlle de Guise's treasurer] et moy, chez Madame de Guise, qui nous dit que M. d'Autun avoit esté à Versailles et que le Roy l'avoit fort bien receu et luy avoit dit: M. d'Autun, il n'a pas tenu à nous que Mlle de Guise n'ait fait d'autres dispositions." An interview with Sainctot, the royal master of ceremonies, followed. He came down in favor of black mourning; but the next morning they learned that the First President of the Parlement [Nicolas Potier de Novion] appeared willing to organize the funeral, and that he was leaning in favor of white. Indeed, in the end a "deuil blanc" was declared, for to the public Mlle de Guise was a "virgin."
By Tuesday it was becoming clear that many of the clauses in the will would be nullified by the Parlement. Autun (known as Mlle de Guise's "Tartuffe") was so troubled by this that he summoned Le Brun;et poured out his concerns, saying that "tout cela faisoit grand bruit [et] qu'on luy l'imputoit beaucoup de choses, qu'il n'avoit eu part à rien qu'à la pension de son neveu," and that Mlle de Guise had told him to do what he did, even though "on disoit que luy, M. Du Bois [and another officer] l'avoient suggéré." Le Brun, meanwhile, was telling Gaignières that he was "his servant" for a gesture in favor of a nephew. At one point Père La Chaise went off and conferred with Du Bois, to show him a paper. "En entrant," noted Gaignières, "je le priay de parler à Mlle de Guise, que je luy demandais pardon." (It was customary, once someone had received the last rites, to beg one's pardon, "ce qui est assez ordinaire, quand on meurt, de le demander aux personnes avec qui on a vécu," (Grande Mlle, Mémoires, II, p. 289). But, Gaignières added, La Chaise told him that she no longer was stirring. In other words, Gaignières had been excluded from the closed circle composed of Du Bois, La Chaise, and Roquette d'Autun, who would receive huge legacies in Mlle de Guise's will. (Gaignières was willed her horses.) That same day, noted Gaignières, several individuals, among them Du Bois, "brûlurent aussy papiers et receurent argent le lundy et le mardy." The next day, Wednesday, Mlle de Guise "parla à cinq heures par deux fois, perdit connoissance demy-heure avant [sic] et mourut précisément à dix heures." And, he added, "le sellé de la part de Mademoiselle, à dix heures et demye."
A few days later, Gaignières put his personal thoughts on paper. With a less hurried hand, he expressed his dismay at the behavior of the clique around Mlle de Guise: "Il n'y a pas moyen d'empescher de parler sur touts les discours que M. l'Evesque d'A, MM. Du Bois et La Chaise tiennent et font tenir par leurs amis et par les associez de la caballe au sujet des donations du testemant et des codicilles de feue Mlle de Guise." (BN, ms., Clairambaut 1204, fols. 681-90) I have written elsewhere ("Les défis de la quenouille," XVIIe Siècle, 1984) about the subterfuges Mlle de Guise employed to disinherit her niece.
To summarize: Mlle de Guise died on March 3. A week later, Mère Renville supplied the Florentines with delicious details: "Elle mourut le mercredy des Cendre sur les deux heures du matin. Elle a sy fort caché son mal que personne n'a seu qu'elle avoit un canser. On dit qu'elle l'avoit depuis dix ans et qu'il c'estoit ouvert depuis 4 mois, cepandant on n'a parlé du danger de son mal que depuis un mois, et encor ce n'estoit pas ches elle, car toutes les fois que Mademoiselle [Mlle de Montpensier, the "Grande Mademoiselle," her niece and heir] l'alloit voir, elle luy disoit que son mal n'estoit qu'un rumatisme sur le bras, et elle estoit levée desus un petit lit. Enfin, elle n'a point voulu envisager la mort, ny que l'on l'en crut proche." (Med. del Prin., 4785, Mar. 8, 1688).
While the Carmelite was penning this missive, Atto Melani, another Florentine agent, was writing his summary of Mlle de Guise's last days, observing that although she made huge bequests and was surrounded by a large "court," it was of little help, for "her body stayed four days without anyone thinking of embalming it and placing it in a cellar, and without candles and without priests, because Mlle de Montpensier, as principal heir, ... had received authorization from the Parlement to seal the rooms on every floor." Zipoli paints a somewhat less horrendous picture: he notes that the usual "compliments of condolences" were omitted, but instead of four days, he suggests that "her body was left a full day without a single light" (Med. del Prin. 4826, Mar. 8, 1688). Under the circumstances, everyone was wondering whether anyone would pay attention to her wish to be buried in the Capucine church, in the habit of a Capucine nun. In the end "that was not able to be carried out, for her body was in no condition to be handled." In the following week's dispatch,
Melani modified a few more details about the burial: she wanted her heart taken to Montmartre, which they managed to do; but since her body had lain unattended for four days, on her own bed, it was so corrupted that it could not be garbed like a Capucine. (Med. del Prin, 4802, Mar. 7 and 15, 1688). Cinthia, the Italian chambermaid of Mme de Guise's sister, the Grand Duchess of Tuscany, provides additional details in a hastily written and somewhat hysterical note: Her Highness had died on Ash Wednesday, she wrote, but not until Saturday did a doctor open her body, probe the cancers that had spread throughout her chest and head — and "watch the night" with the body (Med. del Prin., 4793, Mar. 11, 1688). In other words, the Mercure galant was inaccurate when it asserted that "son corps ... n'a point esté ouvert par expresse defense qu'elle en avoit faite" (Mar. 1688, p. 305). How does one explain the four day interval during which the body was left unattended and allowed to decompose? The delay probably resulted from the fact that at 10 a.m. Mlle de Guise died in her bedroom, in middle of the first floor apartment that opened onto the garden, and that one half hour later the outer doors of the apartment were sealed by order of the Parlement, and no one dared to break the seals in order to watch by the body.
The burial took place on either March 12 or March 13, that is, a week after the makeshift autopsy and removal of her heart, and some nine or ten days after her death. Her natural heirs continued their overt resentment to the end: "Mademoiselle [de Montpensier] ny Monseigneur le Prince [de Condé, one of her legal heirs] n'ont point esté luy donner de l'eau bénite. Le jour qu'on a transporté son corps aux Capucines, Mademoiselle y a envoyé 3 de ses carosses ordinaires sans estre drappés, avec quelques uns de ses ecuyers et gentilshommes dedans, et de ses gens de livrées, et Monseigneur le Prince y a envoyé le mesme nombre de carrosses et de domestiques et de gens de livrées. Monseigneur le Prince s'est habillé de noir pour sa personne seulement pendant quelques jours, mais pas un de ses domestiques ne l'a esté." (Chantilly, ms. 1218, fol. 85) Thanks to the Florentine resident, we know that "samedy 13e on transporta le corps de feue Mademoiselle de Guise au Capucines avec un assez grand cortege de carrosses à six chevaux de tous les Princes de la Maison de Lorraine" (Med. del. Prin, 4793, "nouvelles"). We also learn from the Florentines that the funeral service was splendid: "On Saturday afternoon," one agent wrote, "the funeral of Mlle de Guise took place with great pomp at the church of the Capucines of the rue Saint-Honoré, in the company of fifteen deaf mutes" (Med. del Prin. 4677, Mar. 15, 1688).
What did such "great pomp" involve? No descriptions of Mlle de Guise's funeral have been found, so the best answer to that question is the description of the funeral of another lofty and prestigious princess, the Dowager Duchess of Condé, in 1650. The procession — which took place during a burial supposedly conducted "without pomp" — was led by the dead woman's écuyer (in Mlle de Guise's case, as in that of her nephew, that officer was Roger de Gaignières). Then came mounted pages, two by two, followed by the defunct's domestics. They were followed by 100 gentlemen on horseback, footmen carrying torches, two almoners in rochet and bonnet carré, two heralds, and the master of ceremonies and his assistants. Then came the char bearing the princess's body, surrounded by 100 wax candles borne by valets. The procession concluded with twelve boys from the dead woman's chamber and wardrobe, a coach bearing several great duchesses, six more coaches in which the ladies of her court rode, and two more coaches for the men. After a day of lying in state, a funeral service was held at the Cordeliers, and it was followed by a full week more ceremonies at the Carmelites. (One now understands how insulting was the behavior of the Grande Mademoiselle and the Prince of Condé at Mlle de Guise's funeral!)
On Mlle de Guise's coffin was a plate with her crowned coat of arms and two palm branches, followed by this inscription: "Cy est le corps de très haute, très puissante et très illustre princesse Mademoiselle Marie de Lorraine, duchesse de Guise et de Joyeuse, pair de France, princesse de Joinville, sénéchale héréditaire de Champagne, etc., décédée à Paris en son hostel le mercredy 3 mars 1688, âgée de 72 ans 6 mois 17 jours. Requiescat in Pace" (BN, ms. Clairambault, 1130, fol. 136). The Mercure galant published an obituary that contains the first known public allusion to her musicians: "elle a vecu avec une magnificence digne du sang dont elle sortoit. Elle faisoit du bien à beaucoup de monde, recompensoit genereusement le moindre service, et faisant toutes choses avec grandeur, elle avoit jusqu'à sa musique entretenue. Cette musique estoit si bonne qu'on peut dire que celle de plusieurs grands souverains n'en approche pas. Comme elle estoit la derniere de la branche de Guise, elle a cru pouvoir disposer de tous ses biens" (Mar. 1688, p. 305). The same issue of the Mercure contains what seems to be another "first": publicly linking Marc-Antoine Charpentier to the late princess, it stated "il a long temps demeuré à l'Hostel de Guise et a fait des choses pour la musique de Mlle de Guise" (p. 321).
In short, nine days separated the death of Marie de Lorraine and her funeral. And since it had been obvious since at least mid-February that Mlle de Guise's days were numbered, Marc- Antoine Charpentier had all the time he needed , between mid-February and March 3, to rework some of the music he had written in 1671 or 1672 for the death of the Duke of Guise; and between March 3 and March 13 he would have had plenty of time to rehearse it, for performance at the event organized and sponsored by the First President of the Parlement of Paris.
Madame de Guise, March 1696
Madame de Guise, not yet fifty years old, fell suddenly ill at Versailles on March 14, 1696, suffering from a fever and chest congestion. By the afternoon of March 17 she was dead. Dangeau recounts her last hours: "Elle s'attendrit en voyant le roi, à qui elle était fort attachée, et elle lui dit: ‘Si Dieu me fait miséricorde, comme je l'espère, je prierai pour Votre Majesté pour la paix.' " She died two hours later, "dans la tranquillité d'une personne qui a mené une vie aussi innocente que celle qu'elle menoit. Le roi étoit sorti le matin de sa chambre en pleurant, et nous en a parlé plusieurs fois dans la journée, la louant toujours fort." Not until March 18, when her will was read, did it become known that she wished her body to be taken to the Grandes Carmélites, "vingt-quatre heures après sa mort, et elle y veut être enterée comme une simple religieuse, sans aucune cérémonie. Ainsi on ne lui rendra point les honneurs que le roi avoit déjà réglé qu'on lui rendît. On devoit garder son corps, comme on garda celle de [la Grande] Mademoiselle [her half-sister] en 1693; et les dames qui devaient commencer à la garder lundi étoit déjà nommées ... mais le roi, pour suivre sa volonté, la fera mener dès demain aux Grandes Carmélites, sans aucune cérémonie" (Mémoires, V, pp. 379-80; and Sourches, Mémoires, V, 118-20, who provides a few additional details).
Years later, Dubuisson reproduced information about the inscription on the copper plate bearing her arms, which was attached to Mme de Guise's coffin: "C'est le corps de très haute et puissante princesse Elizabeth d'Orléans, femme de feu haut et puissant prince Louis Joseph de Lorraine, duc de Guise, laquelle est décédée au chasteau de Versailles le 17 mars 1696, âgée de 49 ans 8 mois. Requiescat in pace." (How modest this inscription is, compared with the one on Mlle de Guise's plaque!)
What was the time delay between Mme de Guise's death and her burial in Paris, among the Carmelite nuns? Her will sheds minimal light. She "begs" the king "de trouver bon que je sois enterré aux Carmelites du grand Couvent, sans autres cérémonies, comme si j'estois Carmélite, et deffend que l'on m'ouvre, cela n'estant utile à personne." (She did however insist, as she had in an earlier will dated March 1684, that "je prie qu'on ne m'ensevelisse point qu'au bout de vingt- quatre heures et que l'on me mette en mesme temps dans ma bière après m'avoir donné deux coups de rasoirs sous la plante des pieds, et sans garder mon corps plus longemps, l'on le mettra aux Grandes Carmellites. Comme je ne veux autre cérémonie, et que je demande cela en grâce au Roy, cela seroit inutile de me garder plus longtemps au lieu de touttes ces pompes." (BN, Morel de Thoisy, 140, fols. 17ss, and fol 21ss for the earlier will). In short, if one supposes that Louis XIV respected her wishes (and both Dangeau and Sourches assert that he did), Mme de Guise — who had died rather unexpectedly, after a relatively short illness — was buried at the most two days after her death, with minimal ceremony.
Another source does reveal, however, that the Feuillants of the rue Saint-Honoré were present at her burial and were rewarded with 209 livres. It also shows that some sort of service was held in the parish church of Versailles during the three days that followed her death. And we know that, despite her desire not to be "opened," Mme de Guise was embalmed; that fourteen torches accompanied the convoy that bore her body to Paris; and that the members of her household were given mourning clothes, presumably to wear during the procession. (Arsenal, ms. 6634, "dépenses funéraires")
The current state of research makes it impossible to say whether any of the music that Marc-Antoine Charpentier had written in the early 1670s for Mme de Guise's husband and mother, was performed at Versailles or at the Great Carmel of Paris. If it was performed, it was done very hastily and scarcely left the composer any time to rework the original compositions, so that they would be "in the taste" of the 1690s.