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There is no authentic evidence that Vatel was a chef. In "L'État de la Maison du Roi et des Maisons des Princes du sang" (The State of the King's Household and the Households of the Princes of the Blood), no trace of Vatel's existence has been found. Nothing has come down to us about him, yet in every era, almost all great chefs have more or less precisely defined their professional work in writing. The only authentic document in which his name appears is a letter addressed on 24 April 1671 by Madame de Sévigné to Madame de Grignano, in which she says: "But here is what I have learned upon arriving here, which I cannot ignore, and which means that I no longer know what to tell you: it is that Vatel, the great Vatel, maître d'hôtel to Monsieur Fouquet, who was currently serving Monsieur le Prince, has stabbed himself." In this letter, Madame de Sévigné clearly states, in black and white, "butler", and at that time, as is still the case today, there was a certain distinction between the head of the table service and the chef, the grand maître des cuisines. However, in publishing this very precise letter from Madame de Sévigné, Louis Nicolardot, the conscientious author of "L'Histoire de la Table" (The History of the Table), made the mistake of referring to Vatel as a cook. It is certain, however, that if Vatel had been a cook, Carême would not have failed to comment on his death as he did for his master Laguipière, Murat's cook, who died in Vilna during the great retreat from Russia. Moreover, as Philéas Gilbert, cook and collaborator of Prosper Montagné, said: "Even if we were to be provided with authentic proof that Vatel did indeed work as a chef, his sensational suicide would still demonstrate that he did not have the character of a 'chef' because he did not know how to handle a critical situation and did not prove himself equal to the circumstances." History tells us that in April 1671, the Prince of Condé entrusted Vatel with the task of organising a feast in honour of Louis XIV with three thousand guests. The reception began on a Thursday evening and was marked by a few incidents. During the supper, the "roast" was missing from several tables due to unexpected diners. The next day, at dawn, Vatel inquired about the arrival of the tide for the day's table and learned that only two baskets of fish had arrived. After declaring, "I will not survive this affront," he went to his room, placed his sword against the door and pressed it against his heart. A few minutes later, the baskets of fish arrived, and the steward was searched for everywhere to distribute them, only to be found dead and covered in blood.