Confessions of Louis XI.

“ (…) I then occupied myself with Guyenne. Odet d’Aidies, lord of Lescun, who had quarreled with me, was making the preparations for war with impressive activity. It was with great difficulty that I fed the warlike ardor of my brother, the Duke of Guyenne. I had to combat a formidable adversary in my brother’s mind: Madame de Thouars, mistress of Charles, Duke of Guyenne.

This woman sought nothing other than to take advantage of the dominion she exercised over the young duke, with a view to dissuading him from war, not being unaware that this conflict had as its purpose the marriage of her lover. Her secret enemies had affected to praise, in her presence, the beauty and the brilliant qualities of the bride: this was enough to convince her that her ruin would be certain if that princess wed the Duke of Guyenne. Sure of my brother’s passion, she resorted to tears, to entreaties, and to all the extravagances of a woman lost in such a situation. The frail Charles yielded, making his new resolutions known to Lescun. The latter at once forewarned the Duke of Brittany and the other interested parties: they took alarm and sent remonstrances to my brother, the effect of which served only to plunge him still further into his hesitations. Meanwhile, the favorite succeeded, not without difficulty, in turning him away once more from war and from marriage; from then on, her death was decided upon by all the princes. Fearing that my brother might attribute it to Lescun, whose antipathy toward Madame de Thouars was known to him, they resolved to win over Jean Faure Duversois, a Benedictine monk, my brother’s confessor and abbot of Saint Jean d’Angély.

This man was one of the most enthusiastic partisans of Madame de Thouars, and no one was unaware of the hatred he bore toward Lescun, whose political influence he envied. It was not likely that my brother would ever attribute to him the death of his mistress, for that priest was one of the favorites in whom he placed the most confidence. Since only the thirst for greatness bound him to the favorite, he let himself be corrupted easily.

For a long time I had been trying to seduce the abbot; but he always repelled my offers, leaving me, nevertheless, the hope of one day attaining this objective.

He easily understood the delicate position in which he would put himself by rendering the princes the service they expected of him; he knew that it cost them nothing to rid themselves of an accomplice. On the other hand, he knew the inconstancy of my brother and feared becoming his victim.

To reconcile his safety with his interests, he resolved to sacrifice his young lord. In taking this course, he had as much chance of success as of failure. For the princes, the death of the young Duke of Guyenne was to be the result of neglect or of an unforeseen incident. Even if it were imputed to the Duke of Brittany and his confederates, the death of the favorite would pass, so to speak, unnoticed, for no one would have discovered the motives that conferred upon it a real importance from the political point of view.

Granting that they could be accused of my brother’s death, they would find themselves exposed to the greatest dangers, since it would have been my duty to punish them rigorously; they knew that it was not goodwill that I lacked, and in that case the people would turn against them; the Duke of Burgundy himself, a stranger to what was being plotted in Guyenne, would find himself forced to ally with me, under penalty of being accused of complicity. Even in this last hypothesis, everything would have turned out in my favor. I could have had Charles the Bold declared guilty of high treason, and led the Parliament to condemn him to death as the murderer of my brother. These condemnations, sanctioned by that important tribunal, always had great results, especially when they were of an incontestable legitimacy. It is easy to see what interest the princes had in handling the abbot. In return, nothing was easier than to do away with him secretly.

With me, the abbot of Saint Jean would have still more chances of impunity. The service he rendered me was of the greatest importance to me, especially at that moment: the formidable league that was forming, of which the Duke of Guyenne was the center, was bound to ruin me infallibly; the death of my brother was the only means of destroying it and, consequently, of saving myself. He coveted the favor of Tristan the Hermit, thinking that by this means he would succeed in elevating himself above him or, at least, in sharing my good graces and my confidence with him. Moreover, the princes had committed the imprudence of leaving in his hands incontestable proofs of their guilt: these were various writings; as they were naturally conceived in very vague terms, it would not be difficult to substitute the person of my brother for that of his favorite, who was designated only in implied terms. By delivering these documents to me, he would remove from me any kind of doubt about my innocence; he would thus rid himself of the only danger he ran at the side of the princes and, by proving that I was in no way involved in the poisoning, he ceased to be my accomplice and removed any interest I had in causing him to perish. It remained to prove that he himself had nothing to do with it; this was a lesser difficulty: first, he was sure of my protection, and then, the princes having no proof of his guilt, he could turn the accusations back upon them as slanders.

With everything well weighed, he caused an emissary to pass near me, who pretended to come spontaneously, to tell me that the abbot of Saint-Jean was discontented with my brother. I saw at once all the advantage I could draw from this situation, and I fell into the trap that the cunning abbot set for me. Not suspecting that this man could have been sent by him, I dispatched one of my trusted spies. Saint-Jean played his role so well that the emissary was deceived. On the basis of his report, I wrote to the abbot in order to win him over; he feigned many scruples, but I triumphed, not without difficulty. He agreed to take charge of the poisoning of my young brother: so perverted did I find myself that I did not even hesitate to commit this horrible crime. Henri de la Roche, the duke’s squire, took charge of having a peach prepared, which the abbot himself offered to Madame de Thouars while she was lunching at table with my brother. The beauty of this fruit was remarkable; it caught the prince’s attention, and she shared it with him. As soon as they had eaten it, the favorite felt violent pains in her entrails: she did not delay in expiring, amid the most atrocious sufferings. My brother experienced the same symptoms, but with much less violence.

It may seem strange that the abbot made use of such a means to poison his young lord; indeed, the slightest incident could have frustrated his plan. It was, however, the only one that prudence could authorize: it established the possibility of a misunderstanding. Impressed by the beauty of the peach, it was very natural that Madame de Thouars would have her lover admire it as well, offering him half of it: he could not fail to accept it and to eat a little, were it only out of complaisance. But, granting that he ate only a small piece, it would be sufficient to provoke the first necessary symptoms; then a subsequent poisoning could lead to death, as a consequence of the first. From the moment they learned of the deadly consequences of the favorite’s poisoning, terror seized the princes; they had not the slightest suspicion of the abbot’s premeditation; they thought only of giving every appearance of naturalness to the death of the young lady and to the illness of her lover; none of them took the initiative of offering a counter-poison to the unfortunate prince, fearing to compromise themselves; indeed, this measure would have given to understand that they knew of the poison and that they were, consequently, accomplices in the crime.

Thanks to the youth and strength of his temperament, Charles resisted the poison for some time. His physical sufferings did nothing but lead him with more ardor toward his former projects. Fearing that the illness might diminish the zeal of his officers, he wished them to renew the oath of fidelity. As he required them to commit themselves to serving him against everything and everyone, even against me, some of them, fearing the death that seemed near, refused to do so and went over to my court.”

Observation: In our preceding issue we read the interesting details furnished by Louis XI about his death. The fact we have just related is no less remarkable, from the double point of view of History and of the phenomenon of manifestations; moreover, we had no difficulty except as to the choice; the life of this king, as it was dictated by himself, is, without contestation, the most complete that we have and, we may even say, the most impartial. The state of mind of Louis XI allows him today to appreciate things at their true value; we have been able to see, through the three fragments that we have cited, how he renders his own judgment; he explains his politics better than any of his historians; he does not absolve his conduct; and in his death, so sad and so common for a monarch who had been all-powerful until a few hours before, he sees an anticipated punishment. As a fact of manifestation, this work offers a quite particular interest: it proves that spirit communications can enlighten us about History, when we know how to place ourselves in favorable conditions. We express the wish that the publication of the life of Louis XI, in the same way as the no less interesting life of Charles VIII, likewise concluded, may soon come to keep company with that of Joan of Arc.

[1]

[cf. Louis XI.]

[2] Guyenne — The Duchy of Aquitaine (formerly Guienne or Guyenna) was created in the sixth century and remained an independent nation until 1204. — Source [3] Charles of France, 1446-1472, was the younger brother of King Louis XI of France. — Source