sistant, who, in turn, hands it to the
gentleman servant. The chief and the gentleman servant make the trial,
and when the latter has handed his cup to the chief, that officer returns
both cups to his assistant. When the trial has been made in this manner
in the King's sight, the gentleman servant, making a reverence to the
King, presents to His Majesty the cup of gold and the golden salver on
which are the decanters. The King pours out the wine and water, and
having drunk, replaces the cup upon the salver. The gentleman servant
makes another reverence to the King, and returns the salver and all upon
it to the chief of the Wine-cellars, who carried it to the side-board."

The ceremony of tasting the King's wine was most impressive, and it was
regarded as a necessary and effective safeguard against poisonous attacks
or deleterious effects on His Majesty's august health. The thought is
suggested, however, that the test could have been effective only in case
of immediate or quick-working poison. A slow and insidious drug--and
there were experts in such concoctions in those days--would surely have
passed the taster's test and affected the King in time. The test was but
a mere formality, however, for Louis was the Most Adored Monarch. As one
chronicler has observed, "He was not only majestic, he was amiable.
Those that surrounded him, the members of his family, his ministers, his
domestics, loved him." Poison played no part in his career. That subtle
method of attack was reserved for Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, on both
of whom it was attempted more than once.

The carver, having taken his place before the table of the King,
presented and uncovered all the dishes, and when His Majesty told him to
do so, or made him a sign, he removed them, handing them to the
plate-changer or to his assistants. He changed the King's plate and
napkin from time to time, and cut the meats when the King did not cut
them himself.

On rare occasions, when the King was in residence at Versailles, his
brother dined with him. But large, formal dinners were rare, and women
were seldom at the King's table except on grand occasions.

Upon leaving the table, Saint-Simon tells us, "the King immediately
entered his cabinet. That was the time for distinguished people to speak
to him. He stopped at the door a moment to listen, then entered; very
rarely did any one follow him, never without asking permission to do so;
and for this few had