Memoirs of Louis XIV and His Court and of the Regency — Volume 06 — Context and Discussion

Ceremonial as Political Battleground

The communion-cloth episode is not an isolated curiosity. Saint-Simon treats ceremonial order as a precise index of power. He notes that when a son of France is present, he alone holds the right corner; when M. le Duc d'Orléans is there, he holds it likewise; but a Prince of the blood, if alone, must be assisted by a Duke. The Princes' attempt to serve alone at the Assumption—without calling a Duke—is a calculated encroachment. Saint-Simon's immediate response, writing to the Maréchal de Boufflers and to Orléans, shows how quickly such gestures are read and contested. The memoirist's own role as watchdog of precedent becomes part of the narrative.

The Mechanics of a Royal Reunion

The return of the Duc de Bourgogne from a sad campaign is staged with elaborate choreography. Saint-Simon records the King's initial embarrassment, the Duchesse de Bourgogne's fluttering to hide her trouble, and Madame de Maintenon's thoughtfulness. Doors fly open; the King masters himself, embraces his grandson, and points to the Princess with a smiling countenance. The Prince's response is stiff: he turns a moment, answers respectfully, does not move. The tete-a-tete lasts two hours; then the Duchesse de Bourgogne emerges, troubled that her husband does not hurry to salute his father. The Maréchale d'Estrées's random remark—that Monseigneur should go embrace his son—is met with a stiff reply: it is the Duc de Bourgogne's duty to seek him.

Contrasting Receptions: Berry vs. Bourgogne

When the Duc de Berry arrives later that evening, the atmosphere shifts. All hearts open; the King embraces him very tenderly; Monseigneur looks at him tenderly, not daring to embrace his youngest son in the King's presence. All present court him. The King speaks sufficiently to the Duc de Bourgogne at table, but to Berry he assumes a very different air. Saint-Simon underscores the disparity: Berry stands near the King all through supper, and talk is only of post-horses and roads. The conjugal impatience of the Duc de Bourgogne cuts the subsequent supper too short. Saint-Simon later tells the Duc de Beauvilliers that the Duc de Bourgogne seemed very gay on returning from so sad a campaign—a misplaced gaiety that everyone blamed.

Saint-Simon's Method: Witness and Intermediary

Saint-Simon does not merely observe; he intervenes. He writes to Boufflers and Orléans about the communion-cloth breach. He expresses his freedom to Beauvilliers about the Duc de Bourgogne's demeanor. He receives secondhand reports, as when Pontchartrain relates an interview to him that very evening. The memoir is built from such relayed intelligence and personal commentary. Saint-Simon positions himself as a guardian of custom and a confidant of key players, yet he never claims omniscience. His account is explicitly filtered through his own correspondence and conversations, making the reader aware of the partial, partisan nature of the record.

Readers attentive to Saint-Simon's method will note how he uses small gestures—a cloth held, a door opened, a tone of voice—to map the invisible lines of favor and resentment at Louis XIV's court. This volume rewards those who read for the telling detail rather than grand narrative. The memoirist's own voice, at once indignant and intimate, is the thread that binds these scenes into a coherent anatomy of power.

I have often lingered over Saint-Simon’s careful record of who held the communion cloth, that silent measure of standing. It reminds me of another quiet volume, its pages full of secret handshakes and whispered oaths across the ocean. Both books share a tender faith in the weight of small gestures, in the hidden architecture of belonging. New England and the Bavarian Illuminati — Key Ideas to Explore holds that same hush, that careful counting of invisible threads.