Françoise left the convent to live with her mother in a small room on the rue de Tournelles in Paris. She was rescued from a dull life as a seamstress, working alongside her sullen and unloving mother, when a gentleman who frequented a nearby salon asked Jeanne for information about Martinique, for he was considering travelling there for his health. Jeanne did not wish to receive him in their tiny house, so she went to his rooms, taking Françoise with her. This, then, was how Françoise made the acquaintance of Paul Scarron, the man who was to be her husband.
Paul Scarron was a burlesque poet with a keen mind and even sharper wit. He had contracted rheumatoid arthritis in his youth, which had left him deformed and partially paralyzed but had done nothing to diminish his kind disposition. He noticed the young woman, whose shabby dress was too short, and who looked thoroughly miserable among the fashionable ladies who graced his salon. He immediately offered Françoise a sum of money to help alleviate her obvious poverty, but her refusal was so haughty that it had the opposite effect to the one she had intended, for Scarron took an even greater interest in her. Shortly after this, however, Jeanne returned to Niort, taking Françoise with her. Jeanne’s unhappy and difficult life was coming to its end, and she died at Niort, leaving Françoise with no other choice than to return to the care of Mme de Neuillant.
About a year later, Mme de Neuillant arranged for Françoise to be married to Paul Scarron, much to the horror of her friends, who were outraged that the fifteen-year-old should be sacrificed to the middle-aged cripple. Scarron, too, was sensitive to the situation, and he offered Françoise the choice of becoming his wife and nurse, to provide him comfort and care in his old age, or to receive enough money from him to serve as a dowry and allow her to enter a convent of her own choosing. Françoise, although pious and interested in religion, had felt no calling as a nun, and so she chose to be his wife.16
Although her husband’s physical disabilities ensured that their marriage would never be consummated, Françoise was very happy as Mme Scarron. It was at his home that she learned many of the skills that would serve her well later in life: learning Latin, Italian, and Spanish, writing to dictation, and the art of being a caring companion to an invalid. This, however, did not mean that she had no life beyond the domestic. She was beautiful, intelligent, and an excellent conversationalist, and the Scarron home was a magnet for the Parisian intellectual elite. So prized was Françoise by Paris society that she was invited to join Henriette of England, the princess Palatine, Cardinal Mazarin, and several ladies of the court on the balcony of the Hôtel d’Aumont to watch as Louis XIV and Marie-Thérèse made their entry into Paris following their marriage. Impressed by Louis, she wrote to a friend, “The Queen must have gone to bed, last night, tolerably well pleased with the husband of her choice.”17 A few weeks after this, Françoise was widowed.
Among the friends Françoise had made at the salons was Athénaïs de Montespan. Athénaïs had already borne Louis a child, the mysterious daughter whose life began and ended in secret. As her reign as favorite continued, it was inevitable that more children would be born to the couple. Over the next two years, she and Marie-Thérèse would present Louis with four sons. Athénaïs, as favorite, would not have time to devote to her children, and they could not live with her at court. She needed someone to take care of them, and she turned to Françoise for help.
Françoise was known for her discretion; she lived away from court and was reliable. She was the perfect choice for governess to a brood of royal children. Before she accepted, she consulted her spiritual advisor, Abbé Gobelin.18 On his advice she told Athénaïs that if Louis ordered her to take up the post, she would do so. Louis did order her, and he installed his children in a house on the rue des Tournelles in the Marais district.
Françoise’s time was not devoted exclusively to Athénaïs’s illegitimate children. There was also Toscan, an illegitimate son of her brother, Charles, and Louise, the two-year-old daughter of her friend Bonne, marquise d’Heudicourt. Marthe-Marguerite,19 the daughter of Françoise’s cousin, Philippe, would eventually join her other charges. As the number of children increased, the need for a larger home became pressing, and Louis purchased a rambling house on the rue Vaugirard.
The need for privacy remained paramount, and Françoise went to a great deal of trouble to prevent others from finding out what was going on behind the high walls that enclosed the house.20 One visitor to the rue Vaugirard, who arrived under conditions of the utmost secrecy, was Louis, but he came as a father, not as a king, for tragedy had recently touched his life. Three of his legitimate children had died within months of each other. Philippe, who had not yet reached his third birthday; Louis-François, his third son, who was barely four months old; and a daughter, Marie-Thérèse, who had died at the age of five. Stricken by sorrow, Louis found consolation in visiting his two sons in Françoise’s care. There was Louis-Auguste, a curly-haired cherub, and Louis-César, not yet a toddler, delightful children who raised his spirits, stirred his heart, and awakened in him a strong paternal sentiment.
Inevitably, Louis encountered Françoise during these visits, but he did not take to her at all. He found this woman, who always dressed modestly21 in black, prudish, too controlled, and over-intelligent; when speaking of her to Athénaïs, he referred to her as “your learned lady.”22 When Françoise fell victim to a mischief perpetrated by Bonne, her best friend, Louis was unsympathetic. Bonne had written letters to her lover in which she had given away the secret of Françoise’s occupation. Françoise’s loyalty was such that she refused to believe her friend capable of such wickedness unless she saw the letters for herself. Athénaïs arranged for her to come to court, where she was presented to Louis, who sternly showed her the letters. Françoise had no choice but to break off all contact with Bonne.
Françoise continued to do her duty, to look after the children and do her best to preserve what little secrecy remained, while Louis continued to visit the large house on the rue Vaugirard to see his sons. He was growing closer to them, especially Louis-Auguste, who quickly became his favorite. He was struck by how tenderly Mme Scarron cared for them, as though she had been their loving mother. Gradually, he began to see her in a new light, and his initial aversion turned to admiration. “She knows well how to love,” he said; “it would be a pleasure to be loved by her.”23
Life changed markedly for Françoise when Louis legitimized his children in 1673. Louis-Auguste became duc du Maine, and Louis-César was made comte de Vexin. Françoise was retained as their governess, and the little ménage left the rue Vaugirard and moved into Saint-Germain, where Françoise became an official member of Athénaïs’s household. Here, she was greeted with great excitement by her friends, especially Mme de Sévigné. “Mme Scarron sups here every night,” she enthused. “It is a pleasure to hear her discuss [any subject]. She dresses in a modest but sumptuous way. She is delightful, beautiful, pleasant, and always quite at her ease.”24 For her part, Françoise received this honor with her customary insouciance, insisting that she would not allow it to go to her head.
One thing particularly concerned Françoise, however, and that was money. Louis had not yet paid her for her services, so she approached him about it. She explained that she wanted the money to buy a small property so she could have somewhere to live in retirement. Louis awarded her a pension of 200 thousand livres,25 as well as an additional sum of 100 thousand francs. This, combined with 40 thousand francs of her own savings, allowed her to buy the château of Maintenon, which sat in a large estate to the west of Versailles.26 The property brought with it the title of marquise and gave Françoise the name by which she is best known, Mme de Maintenon.27
Françoise clashed repeatedly with Athénaïs over the care of the children. Both the duc du Maine and the comte de Vexin were delicate, which Françoise managed by ensuring they followed a wholesome diet, but Athénaïs insisted upon feeding them unhealthy foods and otherwise interfering in their upbringing. Françoise’s distress worsened w
hen the duc du Maine contracted a feverish illness, which left him with one leg shorter than the other. She wanted desperately to continue to care for the boys, but doing so merely increased her love for them, so that shutting herself up with them gave her “a thousand causes for grief and pain.”28 She felt she would die of unhappiness: “There is nothing so silly as to love to excess a child that is not my own,” she confided to the Abbé Gobelin.29
One day, Louis wished to assess for himself the little duc du Maine’s progress. He dismissed his attendants and talked alone with the boy for some time, and the child responded with grace, openness, and respect. When Louis allowed his attendants to return, he told them how delighted he was with his son, adding that he now understood Françoise’s influence. He had finally deduced the fine qualities of the “learned lady.”30
It was Louis’s custom to write little notes to Athénaïs when he could not see her. On one occasion she was entertaining guests in her rooms, and Louis asked Françoise to answer a note on Athénaïs’s behalf. He could not help but notice the difference between the attitudes of the two women, and from that moment on he preferred to receive notes from Françoise and talk to her at every opportunity. Naturally, this aroused Athénaïs’s jealousy. Louis had taken casual mistresses before, of course, but few of them had threatened to replace Athénaïs in the king’s affections. This time, it was different. Athénaïs knew she had a rival, and she tried to get rid of her by making an attempt to marry her off to the duc de Villars-Brancas, “a disagreeable and very beggarly man,” whom Françoise had not the slightest intention of marrying.31
It was about this time that Louis presented Françoise with 100 thousand francs, a significant sum of money, a small portion of which she gave to various convents. In September, he awarded her a thirty-year monopoly on the manufacture of ovens and furnace hearths used in the baking and dyeing trades. The following month, he gave her a total of 200 thousand francs. By the beginning of November 1674, he had taken Françoise as his mistress, but she was little more than just another conquest in a string of conquests, at least at first.32 As time went by, Louis became increasingly fond of her, while she saw it as her Christian duty to save his soul. For some time, she had hoped that he would leave Athénaïs and return to the queen. “You know what need I have for prayers,” she wrote to Abbé Gobelin; “I ask yours again, and that you will pray and get prayers for the King, who is on the edge of a great precipice.”33 The crisis that had occasioned this plea was Louis’s affair with Mlle de Fontanges.
Louis was touched that Françoise took such an interest in him and that she was so concerned for his welfare. One day, when Mlle de Fontanges was being difficult and was threatening to create a scandal, he asked Françoise to have a quiet word with his fractious mistress. Françoise took the opportunity to try to persuade the new young favorite, “by every possible argument, but with great respect and judgment,” to break with the king.34 Mlle de Fontanges paid her the courtesy of hearing her out, but Françoise was asking too much. At length, the young beauty interrupted her. “But, madame,” she cried, “you advise me to throw off a passion, as one speaks of throwing off a costume.”35 Needless to say, she maintained her place in Louis’s heart.
The arrival at court of the new dauphine, Marie-Anne, solved a dilemma that been exercising Louis for some time. The elder of the children that Athénaïs had borne him had left Françoise’s care and were now being taught by male tutors, while the younger ones were being cared for by a new governess on the rue Vaugirard. This left Françoise without an official position and there was no reason for her to remain at court. Louis, however, was reluctant to let her go. Now the perfect solution presented itself: he would appoint her second lady-in-waiting to the new dauphine.36
Louis was thrilled to be thrown into Françoise’s company once again. With Mlle de Fontanges increasingly unwell following her miscarriage and Athénaïs becoming more fractious by the day, Louis sought refuge with Françoise, and by January 1680 they were lovers once again.37 “No one, without exception, is more agreeable to the king than Madame de Maintenon,” noted Bussy-Rabutin.38 Mme de Sévigné agreed: “They speak in whispers, calling Madame de Maintenon, Madame de Maintenant; ‘Madame Now,’ who ‘spends each evening between eight and ten with Louis, escorted to and from his apartments by M. de Chamarante, in front of the whole world.’”39
There was, however, some mystery as to the true nature of their relationship, as detailed by Primi Visconti, who wrote that Louis “spent most of his time with Madame de Maintenon, to the detriment of Madame de Montespan and Mademoiselle de Fontanges, and although she was old, nobody knew what to think about it. Some people believed her to be the King’s confidante, others regarded her as a go-between, or a clever woman of whom he made use to write his Mémoires.”40 One thing Mme de Sévigné was sure of, however, was that “Mme de Maintenon showed the King an entirely new world, previously unknown to him; the enjoyment of friendship and conversation without constraint, without petty quarrels, and Louis found it charming.”41
Louis’s long conversations with Françoise awakened in him the realization that he should abandon his irreligious life. His devotion, which had always been deep and genuine, but which had languished under a bushel for so many years, began to emerge once again. He took instruction from Père Bourdaloue, Bossuet, and others, and paid close attention to their sermons. Françoise placed much of the blame for Louis’s straying onto the queen. As she wrote to the Abbé Gobelin, “If the Queen had a director like you, there would be no good that one might not hope from the union of the royal family.” Instead, the queen’s spiritual director “leads her by ways (to my mind) fitter for a Carmelite nun than a queen.”42
Françoise used her influence with Louis to persuade him to go back to the queen. Her gentle words, as well as his belated return to a Christian life, led to a reconciliation that delighted Marie-Thérèse. She had never been happier. She told everyone that Mme de Maintenon had been raised up by God to be her friend and support, and she attributed the restoration of Louis’s friendship wholly to her good offices.43 Yet, however pleased she was to receive Louis’s undivided attention once more, her happiness was tinged with sadness, even fear, for she remained in awe of the king. Particularly, Marie-Thérèse, who had never fully mastered the French language, feared that she would be unable to hold her side in conversation with him. On one occasion, as she sat waiting to visit him in his apartments, she turned to Françoise and explained that she did not wish to be alone with the king, and asked if she would accompany her. Françoise obliged, but as they approached the door to Louis’s chamber, she shoved the trembling queen inside44 and shut the door on her.
Louis, the First Son of the Church and the Most Christian King, had embraced, albeit belatedly, the commandment Thou shalt not commit adultery. His devotion, however, stopped short of his allowing outside interference in the Gallican Church. Already he had been at odds with the pope over the issue of the régale, a conflict that had rumbled on for several years.45 In 1673 and again in 1675, he had extended the régale to the whole of France, a move that was ignored by the then pope, Clement X. Two Augustinian bishops in the south, Pavillon, bishop of Alet, and Caulet, bishop of Pamiers, also refused to accept the extension of the king’s regalian rights, going as far as to excommunicate clerics whom Louis had appointed. Another who opposed this measure was Innocent XI.46
With the dispute still unresolved, the Assembly of the Clergy assured the king of their continued attachment to him, which they declared to be so strong that nothing could tear them asunder. Their stance was tested shortly thereafter, following the death of one of the pope’s staunchest supporters against Louis, the bishop of Pamiers, and the subsequent excommunication of the vicar-général appointed by the archbishop of Toulouse. This sequence of events brought Louis into a renewed conflict with the pope, and he needed all the support he could muster.47
The clergy rose to the occasion, and in March 1682, the Assemblée Générale drew up a s
et of four articles.48 The first asserted that royal power was not subject to church control, the church could not depose princes, nor could it release their subjects from their oath of fidelity to their sovereign. The second affirmed the superiority of the Ecumenical Council over the pope. The third acknowledged the pope as the head of the church, but his authority was constrained by its laws and he was obliged to respect the privilege of national churches. The fourth accepted the pope’s supremacy in areas of church doctrine, but it agreed that he was not infallible and his judgments were subject to reform until they received the consent of the church.
Innocent XI, who had succeeded Clement X in 1676, showed these articles the contempt he felt they deserved, and the following year he ordered all the bishops who had signed them to send him a written apology expressing their sorrow and anger about their publication.49 The Four Articles, however, were not drafted by Louis but were produced by Bishop Bossuet working in collaboration with Archbishop Le Tellier of Reims. They took the matter of Louis’s dispute over the régale to an extreme even Louis would not have wished. Nevertheless, the saber had been brandished and the supremacy of the Gallican Church had been asserted, but Louis’s next foray into religious affairs would be even more far-reaching, and the consequences for France would be devastating. Before that, however, Louis would experience the happiness of seeing one of his most cherished dreams come to fruition.
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