The monks of Saint Denis, alarmed at such an innovation (which did not, however, affect their own goods and revenues), composed a petition in the form of the factum that our advocates draw up in a suit.  They exclaimed in this document “on the disrepute which this innovation would bring upon their ancient, respectable, and illustrious community.  In suppressing the title of Abbot of Saint Denis,” they said further, “your Majesty, in reality, suppresses our abbey; and if our abbey is reduced to nothing, our basilica, where the Kings, your ancestors, lie, will be no more than a royal church, and will cease to be abbatial.”

Further on, this petition said:  “Sire, may it please your Majesty, whose eyes can see so far, to appreciate this innovation in all its terrible consequences.  By striking to-day dissolution and death into the first abbey of your kingdom, do you not fear to leave behind you a great and sinister precedent? . . .  What Louis the Great has looked upon as possible will seem righteous and necessary to your successors; and it will happen, maybe, before long, that the thirst for conquests and the needs of the State (those constant and familiar pretexts of ministers) will authorise some political Attila to extend your work, and wreak destruction upon the tabernacle by depriving it of the splendour which is its due, and which sustains it.”

Madame de Maintenon, to whom this affair was entrusted, summoned the administrative monks of Saint Denis to Versailles.  She received them with her agreeable and seductive courtesy, and, putting on her dulcet and fluted voice, said to them that their alarm was without foundation; that his Majesty did not suppress their abbey; that he simply took it from the male sex to give it to the female, seeing that the Salic law never included the dignities of the Church nor her revenues.

“The King leaves you,” she added, “those immense and prodigious treasures of Saint Denis, more ancient, perhaps, than the Oriflamme.  That is your finest property, your true and illustrious glory.  In general, your abbots have been, to this very day, unknown to you.  Do you find, gentlemen, that religion was more honoured and respected when men of battle, covered with murders and other crimes, were called Abbots of Saint Denis?  Beneath the government of the King such nominations would never have affected the Church; and after the present M. le Chevalier de Lorraine, we shall hear no more of nominating an abbot-commandant on the steps of the Opera.

“Our little girls are cherubim and seraphim, occupied unceasingly with the praise of the Lord.  I recommend them to your holy prayers, and you can count on theirs.”

With this compliment she dismissed the monks, and what she had resolved on was carried out.

The King, who all his life had loved children greatly, did not take long to contract an affection for this budding colony.  He liked to assist sometimes at their recreations and exercises, and, as though Versailles had been at the other end of the world, he had a magnificent apartment built at Saint Cyr.  This fine armorial pavilion decorates the first long court in the centre.  The mere buildings announce a king; the royal crown surmounts them.