Fortune sent me an auxiliary not less influential than these two gentlemen; I mean the marechal duc de Richelieu. In the month of January, 1769, he returned from his government of Guienne to enter on service. He had much credit with the king, and this (would you believe it?) resulted from his reputation as a man of intrigue. He told the king every thing that came into his head: he told him one day, that the Choiseuls boasted that he, the king of France, never dared introduce his mistress into the state apartments at Versailles.

"Yes," added the duke, "they boast so loudly, that nothing else is talked of in the province; and at Bordeaux, for instance, there is one merchant who, on the strength of the enemies of the comtesse, has made a bet that she will never be presented."

"And why do you not imprison these persons?" inquired the king, angrily.

"Because, sire, it appears to me injustice to punish the echo of the fooleries of Paris."

"I will conduct myself as regards the presentation of madame du Barry in the manner which I think best. But is it not an inconceivable contrariety, that one party should wish it with the utmost desire, and another place every obstacle in the way? In truth, I am very unfortunate, and a cruel tyranny is exercised over me."

The duc de Richelieu, not wishing to appear as one of the tyrants of the king, gave a different turn to the conversation.

My presentation was, however, a matter of first-rate importance to me and to my partizans, and the duc de la Vrilliere was gained over to my side, by making him believe that the king would yield to my desires, and that then I should remember all those who opposed my elevation. The duc d'Aiguillon also drew over to my party M. Bertin, who bore no love to the Choiseuls, and who saw that the preponderance of interest was on my side of the scale. When I was assured of a considerable number of defenders, I thought I might venture on the master stroke, and thus I went to work.

One evening the king was with me, and the MM. de Maupeou and de Richelieu were there also. We were discoursing of different things, and the king was perfectly tranquillized, little anticipating the scene that was in store for him. I rose suddenly from my arm-chair, and going up to his majesty, after a profound courtesy cast myself at his feet. Louis XV would have raised me, but I said,

"No, I will remain where I am until you have accorded me the favor I ask."

"If you remain in this posture I shall place myself in a similar one."

"Well, then, since you will not have me at your knees I will place myself on them"; and I seated myself in his lap without ceremony.

"Listen to me, sire," I said, "and repeat what I say to the king of France word for word. He must authorize my presentation; for else, some fine day, in the presence of the whole court, I will go to the state apartments, and try whether I shall be repulsed at the door."

"Will she have the boldness?" inquired the king to the chancellor.

"I have no doubt of it, sire. A female, young, beautiful, honored with your kindness, may venture to do anything."

"Is it not distressing to me," I added, "that, graced with your majesty's favors, I remain thus concealed, whilst women whom you detest annoy you with their presence."

"Madame is right," replied the duc de Richelieu, "and I see that you look for her every evening where she is not, and where she ought to be."

"What! you too, duc de Richelieu, do you join the cry of the chancellor?"

"I would tear out the eyes of these gentlemen," I added, "if they thought differently from me."

"Oh," said the king, laughing, "this punishment would not be one for M. Maupeou: justice ought to be blind: and as for you, M. de Richelieu, you have your left."

"Which he has nobly gained," I replied, "by fighting against your majesty's enemies, and of which he still continues worthy, by now defending me from my foes."

"This rebellion," said the king, "cannot last, and I see myself compelled to hold a (a judicial sitting or bed)."

"And I swear to you, that I will receive nobody into mine until I have been presented."

This sally amused the king, who said, "Well, since it must be so, you shall be presented."

At this I leaped on the king's neck, giving a cry which might have been heard by my rivals. After that, I advanced to the two gentlemen who had advocated my cause so well, extending a hand to each, which they took and kissed with great gallantry.

Louis XV became thoughtful, and continued to mutter between his teeth, "I wash my hands of it—they will cry out, they will clamor, but it must be so." I saw the feelings of the king, and took care not to allow him to go away in this state. Whilst I sought to compose him by my caresses, the duc de Richelieu told us one of his thousand and one adventures, which he told so well. I know not if it will please you, but such as it is I shall give you an abridgment of it.

"I was, you know," he began, "a very good-looking, a very wild fellow: women have no objection to this. I was travelling, and in my way thro' D——, M., the intendant of the city, insisted on my taking up my abode at his house. His lady added her entreaties, and I consented. I must tell you that the lady was handsome. I had passed the night with her; but when, on the next morning, as I sought to go out of her apartment, I found the outer door double locked and bolted. I looked round me on all sides, but found no egress. Whilst I was lamenting this with the lady's , who was nearly as much distressed as her mistress, I saw in a detached closet a great many machines covered with paper, and all of different shapes. On inquiry, I was informed that the following Monday was the lady's birthday, which they were to celebrate with fireworks. I looked at the beautiful fusees and brilliant suns with much admiration. Suddenly, thinking of the lady's honor which might be compromised, I took a light and set fire to a Roman candle; in a moment the whole was in flames, and everybody took alarm. Great was the consternation in the house, which was turned out of windows; and in the uproar, the house-door being broken open, a crowd of persons rushed in; I ran this way and that way; everybody admired and praised my exertions. I was compelled to quit the house at last, and ordered my carriage, whilst M. the intendant was thanking me for the vast service I had rendered him. I assure you, sire, that I never laughed more heartily."*

*The duc de Richelieu preserved his coolness and talent at repartee in the most trivial circumstances. The story is well known of the man who came to ask for his aid, saying they were related. "How?" asked the duke. "Sir, by Adam." "Give this man a penny," said the duke, turning to a gentleman of his train; "and if all of his relations give him as much he will soon be a richer man than I am."

If our readers will turn to "Joe Miller," Page 45, they will find this jest attributed to the witty duke of Buckingham. It is a very good joke for a duke, but savors more of a desire to be witty than to be charitable.



(translator)

This tale amused the king, and M. de Richelieu assured him that he had never told it before. A thousand considerations had induced him to keep it to himself until the present time. "But now," said he, "the third generation of madame l'intendante is no longer young, and I have no fear of being called out to fight a duel."

Next day there was a general rumor of my presentation. My friends asserted that I had the king's promise. This was imprudent on their part, and they injured my interest whilst they flattered my vanity. They put the Choiseul cabal to work, who intrigued so well that not a person could be found who would perform the office of introductress. You know the custom: the presentation is effected by the intermediation of another lady, who conducts the person to be presented to the princesses, and introduces her. This custom had passed into a law, and it would have been too humiliating to me to have dispensed with it.

This was a dire blow for me: it distressed me sadly, and I wept over it with my friends. The duc de Richelien said to me,

"With money and promises everything can be managed at court. There is no place where they know better how to value complaisance, and the price at which it is sold. Do not give yourself any uneasiness; we shall find the lady we want."

And we did find her, but her compliance was dearly bought. Two ladies who were applied to stipulated for most outrageous conditions. One, the marquise de Castellane, consented to present me, but demanded that she should be created a duchess, and have a gift of five hundred thousand livres: the other, whose name I forget, asked for her husband the order of the Holy Ghost and a government, a regiment for her son, and for herself I forget what. These ladies seemed to think, like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, that governments and five hundred thousand livres were to be picked up on the highway. In truth, they spoke out without disguise.

At this juncture the chancellor had a singular conversation concerning me with the Choiseuls. He had been one morning to call on the duke, and whilst they were discoursing, the duchesse de Grammont came into her brother's apartment, and entered at once into conversation.

"Ah, my lord, I am glad to see you. Your new friends carry you off from your old ones. You are wrong to adore the rising sun."

'That was the idolatry of a great number of persons: but I beg of you to be so very kind as not to speak to me in figures, if you would wish me to understand you."

"Oh, you play off the ignorant. You know as well as I do what I mean, and your daily visits to this ."

"Which, madame? There are so many at court!"

This sarcastic reply made the brother and sister smile; both of them being fully competent to understand the merit of an epigram. The duke fearing lest the duchess should go too far, judging by what she had already said, thus addressed him:

"You are, then, one of the adorers of the comtesse du Barry?"

"Yes, monsieur le due; and would to God that, for your own interest, you would be so too!"

"My brother set foot in the house of this creature!"

"Why not, madame? We see good company there; the prince de Soubise, the ducs de la Trimouille, de la Vauguyon, Duras, Richelieu, d'Aiguillon, and many others, not to mention the king of France. A gentleman may be seen in such company without any disgrace."

"Monsieur le chevalier," replied the duke, "to speak candidly to you, allow me to ask, if any one who would have the friendship of our house would be seen in that of the lady in question?"

"Pardon me, duke; that is not the question. Allow me, in turn, to ask you, why those of your house should not go there? This, I think, is the real question."

"You offer us a splendid alliance!" said the duchess with anger.

"I offer nothing, madame: I only inquire. For my part, I see no legitimate motive for this proscription of madame du Barry."

"A woman without character!"

"Character! Why, madame, who has any in these days? M. de Crebillon the younger would be at a loss to tell us where to find it."

This reply made the duke and his sister smile again. The chancellor went on thus:

"It appears to me that persons were less difficult in the times of madame de Pompadour."

"But a creature who has been so low in society!"

"Have you seen her so, madame? And supposing it has been the case, do we interdict all ladies of conduct not less blamable from an introduction at court. How many can you enumerate, madame, who have led a life much more scandalous? Let us count them on our fingers. First, the marechale de Luxembourg, one; then—"

"Then the comtesse de Choiseul, my sister-in-law," added the duke; "we know it as well as you, sir. But this is not the matter in question. You are not ignorant that our enemies surround this madame du Barry; and it is of your alliance with them that I complain."

"You see everything with a jaundiced eye, monsieur le duc. But if you fear the influence of this lady with the king, why do you not present yourself at her apartments? She would be delighted to receive you."

"No, no!" cried the duchess, "my brother will never present himself to such a creature. If he would degrade himself so low, I would never forgive him as long as I live. Since you show your gratitude for what has been done for you by leaguing yourself with this woman, tell her from me that I detest her, and that I will never rest until I have sent her back again to her dunghill."

"Madame," replied the chancellor, "I will evince my gratitude to the duke by not delivering such a message"; and the chancellor went out.

M. de Maupeou came to tell me the whole of this conversation, which wrote down under his dictation, that I might show it to the king. You will see in my next letter what resulted from all this, and how the ill-timed enmity of the Choiseuls served my interests most materially.



CHAPTER XI

A word concerning the duchesse de Choiseul—The apartment of the Comte de Noailles—The Noailles—Intrigues for presentation—The comte de Bearn—M. Morand once more—Visit of the comtesse Bearn to the comtesse du Barry—Conversation—Interested complaisance The king and the comtesse du Barry—Dispute and reconciliation

I showed the king this conversation, in which I had so shamefully vilified by the duchesse de Grammont. Louis XV was very much inclined to testify his disapprobation to this lady, but was withheld by the consideration he felt for the duke and (particularly) the duchesse de Choiseul. This latter lady was not beloved by her husband, but her noble qualities, her good heart, made her an object of adoration to the whole court. You could not speak to any person of madame de Choiseul without hearing an eulogium in reply. The king himself was full of respect towards her; so much so, that, on the disgrace of the duke, he in some sort asked her pardon for the chagrin which he had caused her. Good conduct is no claim to advancement at court, but it procures the esteem of the courtiers. Remember, my friend, this moral maxim: there is not one of greater truth in my whole journal.

The king, unable to interpose his authority in a woman's quarrel, was yet determined on giving a striking proof of the attachment he bore to me. I had up to this period occupied Lebel's apartments in the chateau: it was not befitting my station, and the king thought he would give me those of madame de Pompadour, to which I had some claim. This apartment was now occupied by the comte de Noailles, governor of the chateau, who, as great fool as the rest of his family, began to exclaim most lustily when the king's will was communicated to him. He came to his majesty complaining and lamenting. The king listened very quietly to his list of grievances; and when he had moaned and groaned out his dolorous tale, his majesty said to him,

"My dear count, who built the chateau of Versailles?"

"Why, sire, your illustrious grandfather."

"Well, then, as I am at home, I mean to be master. You may establish the seat of your government where you will; but in two hours the place must be free. I am in earnest."

The comte de Noailles departed much disconcerted, took away his furniture, and the same evening I installed myself in the apartments. You must think that this was a fresh cause of chagrin, and created me more enemies. There are certain families who look upon the court as their hereditary domain: the Noailles was one of them. However, there is no grounds of pretension to such a right. Their family took its rise from a certain Adhemar de Noailles, of Toulouse, ennobled, according to all appearance, by the exercise of his charge in 1459. The grandfather of these Noailles was a domestic of M. de Turenne's, and his family was patronized at court by madame de Maintenon. Everybody knows this. But to return to my presentation.

M. de Maupeou, whose good services I can never sufficiently vaunt, came to me one day, and said, "I think that I have found a lady . I have a dame of quality who will do what we want."

"Who is it?" said I, with joy.

"A comtesse d'Escarbagnas, a litigious lady, with much ambition and avarice. You must see her, talk with her, and understand each other."

"But where can we see her?"

"That is easy enough. She claims from the house of Saluces a property of three hundred thousand livres: she is very greedy for money. Send some one to her, who shall whisper in her ear that I see you often, and that your protection can serve her greatly in her lawsuit: she will come to you post haste."

I approved the counsel of the chancellor; and, in concert with comte Jean, I once again made use of the ministry of the good M. Morand, whom I had recompensed largely for his good and loyal services. This was, however, the last he ever rendered me; for I learned some months after my presentation that he had died of indigestion: a death worthy of such a life and such a man.

M. Morand, after having found out the attorney of madame the comtesse de Bearn, went to him under some pretext, and then boasted of my vast influence with the chancellor. The lawyer, to whom madame de Bearn was to pay a visit on that very day, did not fail to repeat what M. Morand had told him. The next day the comtesse, like a true litigant, called upon him: she related her affair to him, and begged him to use his interest with me.

"I would do it with pleasure," said the worthy, "if I did not think it better that you should see the comtesse du Barry yourself. I can assure you that she will be delighted to aid you."

Madame de Bearn then came to me with M. Morand. Gracious heavens! how simple we were to take so much pains with this lady: had we known her better we should not have been so long in coming to the point. Scarcely any thing was said at this first visit: I contented myself with assuring her of my good will. On the same day the vicomte Adolphe du Barry told his father that that the young de Bearn had asked him the evening before, if I had found a to present me; that in case I had not, his mother would not refuse such a service, should it be desired by the king. Comte Jean and I perfectly understood the lady. She came again, and I renewed the expression of my desire to be useful to her. She replied in a hackneyed phrase, that she should be charmed to prove her gratitude to me. I took her word.

"Madame," said I to her, "you cannot be ignorant that I ardently desire to be presented. My husband has sent in his proofs of nobility, which have been received; I now only want a (godmother); if you will officiate in that capacity, I shall owe you a debt of gratitude all my life."

"Madame, I am at the king's orders."

"But, madame, the king has nothing to do with this. I wish to be presented; will you be my introductress?"

"Madame, the first wish of my heart is to be agreeable to you; I only desire that the king indicate in some way, no matter how trifling, his will on this point."

"Well, then," I exclaimed, with impatience, "I see you will not give me a direct reply. Why should you wish the king to interfere in what does not concern him? Is it your intention to oblige me; yes or no?"

"Yes, madame, certainly; but you must be aware of the tremendous cabal which is raised against you. Can I contend against it alone, and who will sustain me thro' it?"

"I will to the full extent of my power as long as I am here, and the king will always do so. I can assure you, that he will be grateful for your exertions in my behalf."

"I should like to have half a line from his majesty as a protection and assurance."

"And that you will not get. The king's signature must not be compromised in this affair, and I do not think I ought to ask for it; let us therefore, madame, cease this discourse, since you ask such terms for your complaisance."

The comtesse de Bearn rose; I did the same; and we parted mutually dissatisfied with each other.

My friends, my brother-in-law, and his sisters, impatiently awaited the result of my conversation with madame de Bearn. I told them all that had passed; giving my opinion of this lady as I thought her—a malicious provoking creature.

"How soon you torment yourself," said the chancellor to me. "Do you not see that this woman wants a price to be bidden for her? She is yours, body and soul, but first of all she must be paid."

"Let that be no obstacle," said comte Jean, "we will give her money, but present us she must."

On this it was decided, that, on the following morning, my brother-in-law should go to Paris to find M. Morand, and get him to undertake the arrangement.

The next day my brother-in-law went to M. Morand's, and when he had disclosed his message concerning the comtesse, the good Morand began to laugh. He told the count, that the previous evening this lady had sent for him; and, on going to her house, madame de Bearn, as a set-off against the inconveniences which might result to her from being the instrument of my presentation, had stipulated for certain compensations; such, for instance, as a sum of two hundred thousand livres, a written promise of a regiment for her son, and for herself an appointment in the establishment of the future . This was the point aimed at by all the ambitious courtiers. Comte Jean thought these conditions preposterous. He had a from me, and desired M. Morand to offer the lady one hundred thousand livres, and to add an assurance that the king should be importuned to place young Bearn advantageously, and to station the mother to her wishes; and thereupon my brother-in-law returned to Versailles.

The comte Jean had scarcely returned an hour, when we received a letter from M. Morand, stating, that he had gone, in consequence of the instructions of comte Jean, to the comtesse de Bearn; that he had found the lady pliant enough on the first point, and disposed to content herself with the half of the sum originally demanded; that on point the second, I mean the appointments of herself and son, she would come to no compromise, and stuck hard and fast to the written promise of the king; that he, Morand, thought this an obstacle not to be overcome unless we subscribed to her wishes. This letter put me in an excessively ill-humor. I saw my presentation deferred till doom's day, or, at least, adjourned . I questioned my friends: the unanimous advice was that I ought to mention it to the king at one of his evening visits; and I determined to do so without loss of time.

When his majesty came I received him very graciously, and then said to him,

"Congratulate me, sire; I have found my godmother."

"Ah, so much the better." (I know that, at the bottom of his heart, he said "so much the .")

"And who," asked the king, with impatience, "may the lady be?"

"Madame de Bearn, a lady of quality in her own right, and of high nobility on her husband's side."

"Yes, he was a , and the son has just left the pages. Ah! she will present you then. That's well; I shall feel favored by her."

"Would it not be best, sire, to tell her so yourself?"

"Yes, yes, certainly; but after the ceremony."

"And why not previously?"

"Why? because I do not wish to appear to have forced your presentation."

"Well, then," I replied, striking the floor with my foot, "you will not do for me what you would do for a woman who is a complete stranger to you. Many thanks for your excessive kindness."

"Well, well, do not scold. Anger does not become you."

"No more than this indifference suits you; it is cruel. If you recede from saying a word, what will you do when I tell you of the conditions of madame de Bearn?"

"What does the good comtesse ask for?"

"Things past conception."

"What?"

"She has stipulations unlimited."

"But what are they then?"

"A hundred thousand livres for herself."

"What, only that? We will grant so much."

"Then a regiment for her son."

"Oh, he is the wood they make colonels of, and if he behave well—"

"But then! She wishes to be annexed in some station or other to the household of the future ."

"Oh, that is impossible: all the selections have been made: but we will make an equivalent by placing one of her family about the person of one of the princes, my grandson. Is this all?"

"Yes, sire, that is all, with one small formality excepted. This lady, who is one of much punctilio, only considers engagements as binding. She wishes for one word in your majesty's hand-writing—"

"A most impertinent woman!" cried the king, walking with rapid strides up and down my room.— "She has dared not to believe me on my word! Writing!—signature! She mistrusts me as she would the lowest scribbler of France. A writing! My signature! My grandfather, Louis XIV, repented having given his to Charost. I will not commit a similar error."

"But, sire, when a prince has a real desire to keep his word, it is of little import whether he gives it in writing."

At these words, Louis XV frowned sternly, but as he had the best sense in the world, he saw that he was wrong; and having no reply to make, he determined to flee away. I ran after him, and taking him by the arm, he said, with assumed anger, which did not deceive me:—

"Leave me, madame, you have offended my honor."

"Well, then, monsieur la France," replied I, assuming also a scolding tone, "I will give you satisfaction. Choose your time, weapons, and place; I will meet you, and we shall see whether you have courage to kill a woman who lives for you only, and whom you render the most miserable creature in existence."

Louis XV gave me a kiss, and laughingly said, "I ought to make you sleep in the Bastille to-night."

"I am then more merciful than you, for I think I shall make you sleep in the couch you love best."

This reply amused the king excessively, and he himself proposed to send for madame de Bearn. I should speak of my presentation before him, and then without making any positive concession, he would see what could be done to satisfy her.

For want of any other, I accepted this .



CHAPTER XII

The comtesse de Bearn—The supper—Louis XV—Intrigues against my presentation—M. de Roquelaure—The scalded foot—The comtesse d'Aloigny—The duc d'Aiguillon and madame de Bearn—Anger of the king's daughters—Madame Adelaide and the comtesse du Barry— Dissatisfaction of the king

M. Morand was again put in requisition, and went from me to ask madame de Bearn to come and sup at my apartments. We were in committee—my sisters-in-law, myself, and comte Jean. The comtesse made some difficulties at first, under pretence that she was afraid to refuse me a second time. Our messenger assured her by saying, that a supper would not bind her to any thing, and that she should still be at liberty to give any reply she pleased. Madame de Bearn allowed herself to be persuaded, and sent me word that she would accept my invitation. She would have reflected twice before she so far committed herself, had she at all suspected the turn we meant to serve her. But I saw by the wording of her note, that she still hoped that the king would be induced to grant me the written promise which I asked for her.

She came. I received her with all possible courtesy, and yet not with much heartiness. I could not help remembering the vexatious terms she set upon her complaisance. However, the supper was gay enough, comte Jean and my sisters-in-law, who knew very well how to dissemble, did the honors in a most agreeable way. On leaving table we went into the drawing-room, and then began to discuss the serious question which had brought us together. At the first words which comte Jean uttered, madame de Bearn, taking my hands with a respectful familiarity, said to me:— "I hope, madame, that you will not have a bad opinion of me, if I put such conditions to my desire of obliging you. The situation of my family requires it, but it is only a trifle for the king to grant."

"Much more than you imagine, madame," I replied. "The king does not care to involve himself in such engagements. He does not like, moreover, that his sacred word should be doubted."

"Ah?" replied the cunning creature, "heaven forbid that I should not blindly trust to the king's word, but his memory may fail, or he, like other men, may forget."

"Madame," replied comte Jean, with the utmost gravity, "madame is a lady as full of prudence as of kindness, but yet a little too exacting. Madame wishes to have a promise signed for herself and son: that is too much. Why does she not content herself in dividing the difficulty, by satisfying herself with a verbal promise for what concerns herself, and with a written engagement for what relates to her son?"

"," replied the countess, "I am anxious to arrange all to our mutual satisfaction. But his majesty would not surely refuse the entreaties of madame for what I ask."

"I will speak to him of it the first time I see him."

"Oh, you are a charming woman. You will obtain all from the king, and make a sure friend—"

"Whose friendship is very difficult to acquire," said I, interrupting her.

The countess would have replied to this, when my first , opening the two folding-doors of the room, announced the king.

At this unexpected name my guest trembled, and in spite of the thick rouge which covered her cheeks, I perceived she turned pale. She then saw the scene we had prepared for her: she wished herself a hundred leagues off: but she could do nothing, but remain where she was. I took her by the hand, all trembling as she was, and presented her to the king, saying,

"Sire, I now do for this lady, in my own drawing-room, what she will have the kindness to do for me at the state-chamber."

"Ah," replied the king, "is it madame de Bearn that you present to me? I am indeed delighted. Her husband was one of my faithful servants: I was much pleased with her son when he was one of pages, and I perceive that she herself is desirous of testifying to me her attachment to my person. I thank you, madame; you cannot confer a greater favor on me, and I shall embrace every opportunity of proving to you how much satisfaction your conduct affords me."

Each word that the king uttered went to the heart of the countess. However, making a virtue of necessity, she replied, that she was proud and happy at what the king had said to her, and that it would be her constant aim to please his majesty, flattering herself that the king would remember the services of the Bearn family, and would think of her in the dispensation of his bounties.

"You may rely on it, madame," replied Louis XV, "especially if the comtesse du Barry applies to me in your behalf."

Then, turning towards me, "When, then, is this redoubtable presentation to take place?"

"On the day, sire, when your majesty shall think proper," I replied.

"Well! I will send the duc de Richelieu to you, who will arrange the whole."

This settled, the subject was turned, but madame de Bearn lost her tongue entirely. In spite of all her endeavors, her forehead became contracted every moment, and I am sure she went away vexed and disappointed.

The following morning, the comte Jean and my sister-in-law went to her house. They testified their regret for what had occurred the previous evening; they assured her that we would not take any advantage of the conditionless engagement which she had made to present me, and that altho' it was impossible to ask the required guarantees from the king, still we should most undeviatingly adhere to the clauses of the treaty: they added, that they came to enquire when she should choose to receive the hundred thousand livres. The countess replied, that in spite of the real disadvantage which she must henceforward labor under in this affair, she felt great friendship for me, and would not refuse to oblige me, and she flattered herself that I would espouse her cause with the king. The comte Jean assured her of this, and settled with her the period of the payment of the hundred thousand livres, which were to be paid at sight on her drawing on M. de la Borde, the court-banker.

Thus then my presentation was an assured matter: nothing now could prevent it, at least I fancied so to myself. I reckoned without my host; I did not know yet all the malice of a courtier lady or gentleman. As it was, however, M. de Choiseul and his vile sister had gained over one of my servants, for they knew all that had passed. They soon learned that madame de Bearn had come to supper with me, and that after supper a visit of the king's had decided this lady on my presentation: this they determined to prevent.

For this end, they despatched as ambassador the chevalier de Coigny to the house of madame de Bearn. He, following the instruction, sought by turns to seduce and intimidate the countess, but all went for nothing. Madame de Bearn told the chevalier de Coigny, that she had been with me to ask my influence with the chancellor. The chevalier left her without being able to obtain any other information.

This bad success did not dishearten the Choiseuls. They sent this time to madame de Bearn, M. de Roquelaure, bishop of Senlis, and grand almoner to the king. This prelate was much liked at court, and in high favor with mesdames (the king's daughters). We were good friends together at last, but in this particular he was very near doing me great wrong. M. de Roquelaure having called on madame de Bearn, told her that he well knew the nature of her communications with me.

"Do not flatter yourself," said he, "that you will obtain thro' the influence of the comtesse du Barry, all that has been promised you. You will have opposed to you the most powerful adversaries and most august personages. It cannot be concealed from you, that mesdames contemplate the presentation of this creature with the utmost displeasure. They will not fail to obtain great influence over the future dauphin, and will do you mischief with him; so that, whether in the actual state of things, or in that which the age and health of the king must lead us to anticipate, you will be in a most unfortunate situation at court."

The old bishop, with his mischievous frankness, catechised madame de Bearn so closely, that at length she replied, that so much respect and deference did she entertain towards the princesses, that she would not present me until they should accord their permission for me to appear. M. de Roquelaure took this reply to the Choiseuls. Madame de Grammont, enchanted, thinking the point already gained, sent madame de Bearn an invitation to supper the next day, but this was not the countess's game. She was compelled to decide promptly, and she thought to preserve a strict neutrality until fresh orders should issue. What do you suppose she did? She wrote to us, madame de Grammont and myself, that she had scalded her foot, and that it was impossible for her to go from home.

On receiving her note I believed myself betrayed, forsaken. Comte Jean and I suspected that this was a feint, and went with all speed to call on the comtesse de Bearn. She received us with her usual courtesy, complained that we had arrived at the very moment of the dressing of her wound, and told us she would defer it; but I would not agree to this. My brother-in-law went into another room, and madame de Bearn began to unswathe her foot in my presence with the utmost caution and tenderness. I awaited the evidence of her falsehood, when, to my astonishment, I saw a horrible burn! I did not for a moment doubt, what was afterwards confirmed, namely, that madame de Bearn had actually perpetrated this, and maimed herself with her own free will. I mentally cursed her Roman courage, and would have sent my heroic godmother to the devil with all my heart.

Thus then was my presentation stopped by the foot of madame de Bearn. This mischance did not dampen the zeal of my friends. On the one hand, comte Jean, after having stirred heaven and earth, met with the comtesse d'Aloigny. She consented to become my godmother immediately after her own presentation, for eighty thousand livres and the expenses of the ceremony. But mesdames received her so unsatisfactorily, that my own feelings told me, I ought not to be presented at court under her auspices.

We thanked the comtesse d'Aloigny therefore, and sent her, as a remuneration, twenty thousand livres from the king.

Whilst comte Jean failed on one side, the duc d'Aiguillon succeeded on another. He was someway related to madame de Bearn. He went to visit her, and made her understand that, as the Choiseuls neither gave nor promised her anything, she would be wrong in declaring for them: that, on the other hand, if she declared for me, I could procure for her the favor of the king. Madame de Bearn yielded to his persuasions, and charged the duc d'Aiguillon to say to me, and even herself wrote, that she put herself entirely into my hands; and that, as soon as she was well, I might rely on her. What, I believe, finally decided this lady was, the fear that if she did not comply with what I required, I should content myself with the comtesse d'Aloigny.

Now assured of my introductress, I only directed my attention to the final obstacle of my presentation; I mean the displeasure of mesdames. I do not speak of madame Louise, of whom I can only write in terms of commendation; but I had opposed to me mesdames Victoire and Sophie, and especially madame Adelaide, who, as the eldest, gave them their plan of conduct. This latter, who had given too much cause to be spoken of herself to have any right to talk of others, never ceased haranguing about the scandal of my life; and I had recently, unknown to myself, fallen into complete disgrace with her. This is the case.

The apartment from which I had dislodged M. de Noailles had been requested of the king by madame Adelaide. Ignorant of this I had installed myself there. I soon learned that I had offended the princess, and instantly hastened to offer her the apartments she wished to have. She came into them; but as it was necessary for me to be accommodated somewhere, the king gave me the former apartments of his daughter. This was what madame Adelaide called an act of tyranny; she made the chateau echo with her complaints: she said I had driven her out, that I wished to separate her from her sisters; that I should wean her father's affection entirely from her. Such injustice distressed me excessively. I sent to request the king to come to me; and when he entered I threw myself at his feet, entreating him to appease his daughter on any terms, and to let me go away, since I brought such trouble into his family.

The king, irritated at madame Adelaide 's conduct, went to her, and told her, in a private interview, that he would make certain matters public if she did not hold her tongue; and she, alarmed, ceased her clamor, or rather, contented herself in complaining in a lower key.



CHAPTER XIII

Of the presentation—The king and the duc de Richelieu at comtesse du Barry's—M. de la Vauguyon—Conversation—Letter of the duke to the comtesse du Barry—Reply—The countess unites herself with the Jesuit party—Madame Louise—Madame Sophie—M. Bertin—Madame de Bercheny

This fit of anger of madame Adelaide had given additional courage to the cabal. It began to exclaim and plot against me with redoubled force; hoping thus to intimidate the king, and effectually bar my presentation; but it only tended to hasten it. One evening, when the king and the marechal de Richelieu were with me, he said to me,

"A stop must be put to these clamors. I see that until you are presented, there will be doubts perpetually arising and tormenting us on the subject; and until it takes place I shall have no ease. ! Let us take the best means in our power of reducing these malcontents to silence." " Sire," replied the marechal, "make your will palpable, and you will see all the court submit."

"Yes, but my daughters?"

"Mesdames know better than any persons the deference due to your orders."

"I assure you," replied the king, "that it will be an unpleasant quarter of an hour for me to pass."

"Well, sire, then charge one of us with the mission: the bishop of Senlis, for instance, or M. de la Vauguyon. I feel assured that either of them will acquit himself admirably in the business, with the previous understanding that your majesty will support him with your authority."

"I will do so most assuredly; but it will be best not to use it but at the last extremity. I have no wish to be made a bugbear to my family."

"As to the selection of an ambassador," I interrupted, "I beg it may not fall on M. de Roquelaure; he has been working against me for some time."

"Why not send M. de Jarente?" inquired the king.

"Ah, sire," replied the duke, "because we cannot trust him; he is a gay* fellow. Madame Sophie might tell him, that he only took the part of madame du Barry, because he passes his life amongst petticoats."

Flippant, light-minded, unreliable. At the time this book was written "gay" did not carry its present connotation of homosexuality, nor did it always carry the connotation of cheerful and happy that preceded the present connotation. —Gutenberg ed.

"True enough," said the king, "I prefer the duc de la Vauguyon: he has a good reputation—"

"And well deserved," said the old marechal, sneering. "Yes, sire, he is a pious man; at least, he plays his part well. "

"Peace, viper; you spare nobody."

"Sire, I am only taking my revenge."

"Why do you not like the governor of my grandsons?"

"In truth, sire, I must confess to you, that except yourself and the ladies, I have not many likings at Versailles."

Louis XV smiled, and I pulled the bell; when a valet appeared, I said,

"Go and find M. de la Vauguyon for his majesty."

When we were alone, "What, already? "said Louis XV.

"Madame is right," replied the duke, "we must strike while the iron is hot."

The king began to pace up and down the room, which was his invariable custom when anything disturbed him: then suddenly stopping,

"I should not be astonished at a point blank refusal from M. de la Vauguyon."

"Oh, sire, make yourself easy; the governor has no inclination to follow the steps of Montausier or Beauvilliers. In truth you are very candid; and I must tell you, that you have too good an opinion of us."

At this moment M. de la Vauguyon entered. He saluted the king with humility; and asked him, in a mild tone of voice, what his pleasure was with him.

"A real mark of your zeal," was the king's reply.

"And of your gallantry," added the marechal, who saw the hesitation of the king. Louis XV was enchanted that another should speak for him. M. de Richelieu continued:

"His majesty, monsieur le duc, wishes that you should prepare mesdames to receive our dear countess here, when she shall appear before them to pay the homage of her respect and devotion."

The king, emboldened by these words, said, "Yes, my dear duke, I can only find you in the chateau who have any influence over the princesses, my daughters. They have much respect, and no less friendship, for you. You will easily bring them to reason."

As M. de la Vauguyon seemed in no hurry to undertake the charge, the marechal added,

"Yes, sir, to manage this business properly, you and M. de Senlis are the only men in the kingdom."

The marechal had his reasons for saying this, for a secret jealousy existed between the governor and the grand almoner. M. de la Vauguyon made haste to say, that he could not resist his majesty's orders, and his desire to be agreeable to me.

"Ah! you will then do something for me?" I replied. "I am delighted and proud."

"Madame," replied the duke with much gravity, "friends are proved on occasion."

"The present one proves your attachment to me," said I in my turn; "and his majesty will not think it wrong of me, if, as a recompense, I embrace you in his presence": and, on saying this, I went up to the duc de la Vauguyon, and gave him two kisses, which the poor man took as quietly as possible.

"That's well," said the king. "You are, la Vauguyon, a man of a thousand. Listen attentively to me. I wish much that the comtesse du Barry should be presented; I wish it, and that, too, in defiance of all that can be said and done. My indignation is excited beforehand against all those who shall raise any obstacle to it. Do not fail to let my daughters know, that if they do not comply with my wishes, I will let my anger fall heavily on all persons by whose counsels they may be persuaded; for I only am master, and I will prove it to the last. These are your credentials, my dear duke, add to them what you may think fitting; I will bear you out in any thing—"

"Mercy!" said the duc de Richelieu to me in an undertone, "the king has poured forth all his energy in words; he will have none left to act upon if he meets with any resistance." The marechal knew the king well.

"I doubt not, sire," replied the duc de la Vauguyon, "that the respectful duty of mesdames will be ready to comply with your desires."

"I trust and believe it will prove so," replied the king hastily. "I am a good father, and would not that my daughters should give me cause to be angry with them. Let madame Adelaide understand, that she has lately had a mistaken opinion of me, and that she has an opportunity of repairing her error in the present instance. The princesses are not ignorant that I have often shut my eyes upon certain affairs—. Enough; they must now testify their attachment for me. Why should they oppose the presentation of the comtesse? <Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!> they were not so squeamish in the days of madame de Pompadour."

At these latter words I could not forbear laughing. La Vauguyon and de Richelieu left us and here the conversation terminated. The next morning they brought me a note from the duc de la Vauguyon. Thus it ran:—

MADAME,—Ready to serve you, I wish to have a few minutes' conversation with you. Be persuaded that I will not tell you anything but what will be agreeable and useful to you."

I instantly answered:—

"You are too good a friend for me to refuse to see you willingly under any circumstances, and particularly the present. Your conduct yesterday assures you my eternal regard. Come instantly; my grateful heart expects you with impatience."

My sister-in-law, to whom I showed this correspondence, said to me, "This gentleman does not come to see you for your bright eyes; and yet his visit is not disinterested."

"What interest can he have to serve?"



"None of his own, perhaps; but those villainous Jesuits."

"Don't you like them, sister of mine?"

"I hate nobody."

M. de la Vauguyon arrived; and as soon as we were alone, he said to me,

"Well, madame, I am now on the point of going to fight your battles. I have to deal with a redoubtable foe."

"Do you fear?"

"Why, I am not over confident; my position is a delicate one. Mesdames will perforce obey the orders of the king, but they will not find much pleasure in seeing me the ambassador sent to them: all the Choiseul party will vociferate loudly. Nevertheless, to prove my devotion to you, I brave it all."

"You may rely on it that I will never forget the service you are about to render me."

"I have only one favor to ask of you. Authorize me to say to mesdames, that if the pleasures of life distract your attention from religious duties, your soul is in truth fully devoted to our holy religion; and that far from supporting the philosophers, you will aid, by your influence with the king, every measure advantageous to the society of Jesuits."

The hypocritical tone in which this was uttered, almost compelled me to burst out into a fit of laughter; but the serious posture of my affairs induced me to preserve my gravity, and I answered in a serious tone,

"Not only, monsieur le duc, do I authorize you to say so much, but I beg you to declare to mesdames that I am already filled with love and respect for the Jesuits, and that it will not be my fault if they do not return amongst us."

"Ah, you are a treasure of wisdom," replied the duke, kissing my hand with fervor; "and I am disgusted at the way you are calumniated."

"I know no reason for it, for I have never done harm to any person. Assure mesdames that I am sincerely grieved that I am not agreeable to them, and would give half my life to obtain, not their friendship, of which I do not feel myself worthy, but their indifference. Deign also to tell them, that at all times I am at their disposal, and beseech them to consider me as their humble servant."

"It is impossible to behave more correctly than you do; and I am confident that mesdames will soon discard their unjust prejudices. Thus, it is well understood that our friends will be yours."

"Yes, yes, provided they are really mine."

"Certainly. I answer for them as I answer for you."

And thus, my friend, did I find myself allied to the Jesuitical party.

The duke commenced the attack with madame Louise, the most reasonable of the king's daughters. This angelic princess, already occupied with the pious resolution which she afterwards put into execution in the following year, contented herself with saying some words on the commotion occasioned by my presence at Versailles, and then, as if her delicacy had feared to touch on such a subject, she asked the duc de la Vauguyon, if the king ordered her to receive the comtesse du Barry.

"Yes, madame," replied the duke; "it is the express will of his majesty."

"I submit to his wish: the lady may come when she will."

The duke, contented with his success so far, went next to madame Sophie. This princess was not unkind, but subject to attacks of the nerves, which from time to time soured her natural disposition: she had her caprices of hatred, her fits of love. The day when the duke talked to her of my presentation she was very much provoked against me; and after the opening speech of the ambassador, flung in his teeth the report of the apartments, which I have already told you. The duke explained to her, and that too without saying anything unfavorable of madame Adelaide, and concluded by begging her to concede the favor I besought. Madame eluded this, by saying, that before she gave a definite reply she wished to confer with her sisters.

Madame Victoire was not more easily persuaded. This princess had amiable qualities, solid virtues which made her loved and respected by the whole court; but she had but little will of her own, and allowed herself to be led by the Choiseuls; who, to flatter her, told her that she alone had inherited the energy of her grandfather, Louis XIV. She was advised to display it in this instance, and, she would willingly have done so. The comtesse de Bercheny, one of her ladies in waiting, was the person who urged her on to the greatest resistance. This lady did not cease to exclaim against me, and to fan the flame of displeasure which, but for her, would never have appeared. I was informed of the mode adopted by madame de Bercheny to injure me. I sent for M. Bertin, who was devoted to my service, and begged him to go and speak to the lady; he went, and made her understand that the king, enraged against her, would expel her from Versailles, if she were not silent. The comtesse de Bercheny was alarmed; and under pretence of taking a tour, left the court for a month. You will see anon the result of all these conferences.



CHAPTER XIV

The princesses consent to the presentation of madame du Barry— Ingenious artifice employed by the king to offer a present to the duc de la Vauguyon—Madame du Barry's letter respecting it—The duke's reply—The king's letter—The court in despair—Couplets concerning madame du Barry—Her presentation—A change in public opinion—An evening party at the house of the countess—Joy of her partizans—Conversation with the chancellor respecting the lady of the marechal de Mirepoix

The departure of the comtesse de Bercheny was announced to the princesses in the manner least likely to provoke their regrets. Nevertheless, a rumor never slept at Versailles, a whisper was quickly circulated thro'-out the castle, that this sudden and unexpected journey had originated in the king's weariness of her continual philippics against me; and it was clearly comprehended by all, that a similar disgrace would be the portion of those who should offend the monarch whilst seeking to procure my humiliation. This show of firmness was sufficient to repress the daring flights of those self-constituted heroines, whose courage lasted only whilst the king was silent, and who trembled like a leaf before the slightest manifestation of his will. Still the cabal against me, tho' weakened, was not destroyed; it was too strong for the present shock to dissolve it; and altho' none was sufficiently hardy to declare open war, plots were constantly going on to ensnare me.

Meanwhile madame Victoire, left to herself, could not long support such excessive animosity; and the duc de la Vauguyon profiting by the species of lassitude into which she appeared to have fallen, led her without difficulty to act in conformity to the king's wishes.

There remained now therefore but madame Adelaide to overcome, and the task became more difficult in proportion to the elevated rank she occupied at court. By priority of birth she held the first place there; and hitherto this superiority had been ceded to her without dispute, more particularly since the hand of death had removed both the queen her mother, and the dauphiness her sister-in-law. She therefore could only view with uneasiness the prospect of another appearing on the stage whose influence would be greater than hers; and who (until the young dauphiness should attain to years of maturity) might deprive her of all honors but those due to her birth. Madame Adelaide was gifted with good sense, affability of manners, and a kind and compassionating heart towards all who needed her aid; her disposition was good, but she loved dominion, and the least show of resistance to her wishes was painful and offensive to her. She was determined to uphold the duc de Choiseul; and my decided manner towards that minister plainly evinced how little I should feel inclined to support her view of things. There were therefore several reasons for my presence at court being unpleasant to madame Adelaide.

Against her therefore did the duc de la Vauguyon direct his batteries. She received his attack with the most determined obstinacy; all was in vain, she was unconquerable, and the most skilfully devised plans were insufficient to surmount her resistance; it was therefore necessary to have recourse to the clergy, who were at that time completely led by the Jesuits; each member of the church, up to the archbishop of Paris, was called upon to interfere, or their names were employed in default of their presence. It was pointed out to madame Adelaide that I possessed good intentions with feelings of religion, which, however stifled by the freedom of the age, only required careful management to produce a rich development. The success of this last mode of attack astonished the duke himself; and madam, dazzled by the hopes of my conversion, as well as weary of hostilities, yielded her consent to my being presented. After these private negotiations the four sisters met at the house of the elder one; and there they decided that since the king had so expressly manifested his pleasure relative to my presentation, they should conform to the desire of their father, by receiving me with every possible mark of courtesy.

The duc de la Vauguyon hastened to communicate to me this happy state of things; and my joy was so great, that I embraced him with the sincerest warmth, assuring him that I should always look upon him as my best friend, and seek to testify my regard at every opportunity that fell in my way of forwarding his interests.

Some days afterwards the king brought me a splendid ring, worth thirty-six thousand livres.

"You must send this jewel to your good friend the duke," said he.

"I dare not," replied I. "I fear lest it should draw forth his displeasure."

"No, no," cried the king, "'tis not the fashion at court to construe gifts like this into insults, but I should wish this trifle to be presented in an indirect manner" ; and, after having considered a moment, "I have it," exclaimed he, "I have thought of a clever expedient; let us put this ring upon the finger of that Chinese mandarin before us, and give the figure with the ring, considering it merely an appendage to it. Assuredly the most disinterested man cannot refuse to accept a china figure."

I extolled the king's idea as being a most happy one; and he immediately fitted the ring upon the little finger of the mandarin, which I caused to be carried to the duc de la Vauguyon with the following billet:—

"MONSIEUR LE DUC,—You have been my best friend; 'tis to your kind offices that I owe the confirmation of my happiness; but I would secure the continuance of your valuable friendship, and for that purpose I send you a little magical figure, which, placed in your cabinet, will compel your thoughts to occupy themselves with me in spite of yourself. I am superstitious enough to rely greatly upon the talismanic virtue of the charmed porcelain; and further, I must tell you, that I was not its purchaser in the first instance, neither did I adorn it for your acceptance. I should not have ventured to offer more than the assurance of my everlasting esteem and regard for your acceptance. The trifle sent comes from a higher source; and the august hand so dear to both of us, deigned to preside over the arrangement. Should there be in it anything at all repugnant to your feelings, I beseech you bear me no ill will for it; for truly, I may say, I should never have summoned courage to do that which has just been done by him whom all unite in loving and esteeming."

The duke replied,-

"Your talisman is welcome; yet its magic power, far from augmenting the warmth of my feelings towards you, would have diminished it on account of a certain accessory with which my friendship could have well dispensed: however, what you say on the subject closes my lips. I gratefully acknowledge the daily favors bestowed upon me from the august hand of whom you speak; and I receive with the deepest respect (mingled with regret) the gracious present he deigns to convey to me by you. I own that I should have preferred, to the splendid jewel which bedecked the finger of your deity, a Chinese counterpart, which might indeed have enabled all admiring gazers to say, 'these two are truly a pair.' As for yourself, who would fain pass for nobody in the munificent gift, I thank you at least for the flattering place you assign me in your recollection. Be assured I feel its full value, and you may confidently reckon upon the disposal of my poor credit as well as command the little influence I may be said to possess in the castle. Adieu, madame, I entreat your acceptance of the expression of my most sincere and respectful devotion."

The king, having read M. de la Vauguyon's letter, sent immediately to the china manufactory to purchase the fellow mandarin so much coveted by the duke, and caused it to be conveyed to him with the following words:—

"MY DEAR GOVERNOR—You are a kind-hearted creature I know, and a great promoter of domestic harmony; to fain unite the wife with the husband. Heaven grant that such a measure may indeed bring about your proposed felicity! However, by way of furthering your schemes, I send the Chinese lady, whose beauty I trust will not disturb your repose, for in spite of your sanctity, I know you can be as gallant as the rest of us, and possibly this beautiful mandarin may prove to be more lovely in your eyes, than in those of the husband for whom she is destined; but, in sober earnestness, I would wish you to be convinced that my intention is not to attempt payment for the services rendered me, but simply to evince my sense of their value. There is one beside me at this moment who has given me a kiss to transmit to you—You will easily guess who has had the audacity to enlist me into her service upon such an occasion."

This was one of the recompenses offered to the duc de la Vauguyon, as a compensation for the public clamor and dislike which sprung up against him in consequence of his zeal for my service. At Versailles, the general ferment was at its height, when it became generally known that I had triumphed over all obstacles, and that my presentation was certainly to take place. In the midst of all this the desperate odium fell upon the duc de la Vauguyon, and a general attack was made upon him: his virtues, reputation, talents, qualities, were made the subject of blame and scandal— in a word, he was run down by public opinion. But the leaders of the cabal were not the less struck by the news of my success, which sounded in their ears like the falling of a thunder-bolt.

The silly princess de Guemenee, who, with her husband, has since become a bankrupt to so enormous and scandalous an amount, flew without delay to convey the tidings of my victory to the duchesse de Grammont, to whom it was a death-blow. All her courage forsook her; she shed bitter tears, and displayed a weakness so much the more ridiculous, as it seemed to arise from the utmost despair. She repaired to madame Adelaide, before whom she conducted herself in the most absurd and extravagant manner. The poor princess, intimidated by the weakness she herself evinced, in drawing back after she had in a manner espoused the opposite party, durst not irritate her, but, on the contrary, strove to justify her own change of conduct towards me, by urging the impossibility of refusing obedience to the express command of the king.

The other princesses did not evince greater firmness when overwhelmed by the complaints of the cabal, and in a manner bent their knee before the wives of the French nobility, asking their pardon for their father's error in selecting a mistress from any rank but theirs. About this period a song, which I admired greatly, was circulated abroad. My enemies interpreted it to my disadvantage, but I was far from being of the same opinion. It was successively attributed to the most clever men in Paris, and I have myself met with four who each asserted himself to be the author; in justice it should be ascribed to him who appeared the most calculated to have written it, and who indeed claimed it for his own—the chevalier de Boufflers. I do not know whether you recollect the lines in question. I will transcribe them from memory, adding another couplet, which was only known amongst our own particular circle, but which proves most incontestably the spirit of kindness with which the stanzas were composed.

Lise, ta beaute seduit, Et charme tout le monde. En vain la duchesse en rougit, Et la princesse en gronde, Chacun sait que Venus naquit De l'ecume de l'onde.

En rit-elle moins tous les dieux. Lui rendre un juste hommage! Et Paris, le berger fameux, Lui donner l'avantage Meme sur la reine des cieux Et Minerve la sage?

Dans le serail du grand seigneur. Quelle est la favorite? C'est la plus belle au gre de coeur Du maitre qui l'habite. C'est le seul titre en sa faveur Et c'est le vrai merite.

Que Grammont tonne contre toi, La chose est naturelle. Elle voudrait donner la loi Et n'est qu' une mortelle; Il faut, pour plaire au plus grand roi, Sans orgueil etre belle.*

*From those readers who may understand this chanson in the original, and look somewhat contemptuously on the following version, the translator begs to shelter himself under the well-known observation of Lord Chesterfield, "that everything suffers by translation, but a bishop!" Those to whom such a dilution is necessary will perhaps be contented with the skim-milk as they cannot get the cream.- TRANS.

Thy beauty, seductress, leads mortals astray, Over hearts, Lise, how vast and resistless thy sway. Cease, duchess, to blush! cease, princess, to rave— Venus sprang from the foam of the ocean wave. All the gods pay their homage at her beauteous shrine, And adore her as potent, resistless, divine! To her Paris, the shepherd, awarded the prize, Sought by Juno the regal, and Pallas the wise.

Who rules o'er her lord in the Turkish , Reigns queen of his heart, and e'er basks in his smile? 'Tis she, who resplendent, shines loveliest of all, And beauty holds power in her magic thrall. Then heed not the clamors that Grammont may raise, How natural her anger! how vain her dispraise! 'Tis not a mere mortal our monarch can charm, Free from pride is the beauty that bears off the palm.

This song was to be found in almost every part of France. Altho' the last couplet was generally suppressed, so evident was its partial tone towards me, in the midst of it all I could not help being highly amused with the simplicity evinced by the good people of France, who, in censuring the king's conduct, found nothing reprehensible but his having omitted to select his mistress from elevated rank.

The citizens resented this falling off in royalty with as much warmth and indignation as the grandees of the court; and I could enjoy a laugh on the subject of their angry displeasure as soon as my presentation was decided upon.

The intrigues carried on by those about the princesses, and the necessity of awaiting the perfect recovery of madame de Bearn, delayed this (to me) important day till the end of the month of April, 1770. On the evening of the 21st the king, according to custom, announced a presentation for the following day; but he durst not explain himself more frankly; he hesitated, appeared embarrassed, and only pronounced my name in a low and uncertain voice; it seemed as tho' he feared his own authority was insufficient to support him in such a measure. This I did not learn till some time afterwards; and when I did hear it, I took the liberty of speaking my opinion upon it freely to his majesty.

On the next day, the 22d, I was solely engrossed with my dress: it was the most important era of my life, and I would not have appeared on it to any disadvantage. A few days previously, the king had sent me, by the crown jeweller, Boemer, a set of diamonds, valued at 150,000 livres, of which he begged my acceptance. Delighted with so munificent a present I set about the duties of the toilette with a zeal and desire of pleasing which the importance of the occasion well excused. I will spare you the description of my dress; were I writing to a woman I would go into all these details; but as I know they would not be to your taste, I will pass all these uninteresting particulars over in silence, and proceed to more important matter.

Paris and Versailles were filled with various reports. Thro'out the city, within, without the castle, all manner of questions were asked, as tho' the monarchy itself was in danger. Couriers were dispatched every instant with fresh tidings of the great event which was going on. A stranger who had observed the general agitation would easily have remarked the contrast between the rage and consternation of my enemies and the joy of my partizans, who crowded in numbers to the different avenues of the palace, in order to feast their eyes upon the pageantry of my triumphal visit to court.

Nothing could surpass the impatience with which I was expected; hundreds were counting the minutes, whilst I, under the care of my hairdresser and robemaker, was insensible to the rapid flight of time, which had already carried us beyond the hour appointed for my appearance. The king himself was a prey to an unusual uneasiness; the day appeared to him interminable; and the eagerness with which he awaited me made my delay still more apparent. A thousand conjectures were afloat as to the cause of it. Some asserted that my presentation had been deferred for the present, and, in all probability, would never take place; that the princesses had opposed it in the most decided manner, and had refused upon any pretense whatever to admit me to their presence. All these suppositions charmed my enemies, and filled them with hopes which their leaders, better informed, did not partake.

Meanwhile the king's restlessness increased; he kept continually approaching the window to observe what was going on in the court-yard of the castle, and seeing there no symptoms of my equipage being in attendance, began to lose both temper and patience. It has been asserted, that he gave orders to have the presentation put off till a future period, and that the duc de Richelieu procured my by force; this is partly true and partly false. Whilst in ignorance of the real cause of my being so late, the king said to the first gentleman of the chamber,

"You will see that this poor countess has met with some accident, or else that her joy has been too much for her, and made her too ill to attend our court to-day; if that be the case, it is my pleasure that her presentation should not be delayed beyond to-morrow."

"Sire," replied the duke, "your majesty's commands are absolute."

These words, but half understood, were eagerly caught up, and interpreted their own way by those who were eager to seize anything that might tell to my prejudice.

At length I appeared; and never had I been more successful in appearance. I was conducted by my godmother, who, decked like an altar, was all joy and satisfaction to see herself a sharer in such pomp and splendor. The princesses received me most courteously; the affability, either real or feigned, which shone in their eyes as they regarded me, and the flattering words with which they welcomed my arrival, was a mortal blow to many of the spectators, especially to the ladies of honor. The princesses would not suffer me to bend my knee before them, but at the first movement I made to perform this act of homage, they hastened to raise me, speaking to me at the same time in the most gracious manner.

But my greatest triumph was with the king. I appeared before him in all my glory, and his eyes declared in a manner not to be misunderstood by all around him the impetuous love which he felt for me. He had threatened the previous evening to let me fall at his feet without the least effort on his part to prevent it. I told him that I was sure his gallantry would not allow him to act in this manner; and we had laid a bet on the matter. As soon as I approached him, and he took my hand to prevent me, as I began to stoop before him, "You have lost, sire," said I to him.

"How is it possible to preserve my dignity in the presence of so many graces?" was his reply.

These gracious words of his majesty were heard by all around him. My enemies were wofully chagrined; but what perfected their annihilation was the palpable lie which my appearance gave to their false assertions. They had blazoned forth everywhere that my manners were those of a housemaid; that I was absurd and unladylike in my conduct; and that it was only requisite to have a glimpse of me to recognize both the baseness of my extraction, and the class of society in which my life had been hitherto spent.

But I showed manners so easy and so elegant that the people soon shook off their preconceived prejudice against me. I heard my demeanor lauded as greatly as my charms and the splendor of my attire. Nothing could be more agreeable to me. In a word, I obtained complete success, and thenceforward learnt experimentally how much the exterior and a noble carriage add to the consideration in which a person is held. I have seen individuals of high rank and proud behavior who carried no influence in their looks, because their features were plain and common place; whilst persons of low station, whose face was gifted with natural dignity, had only to show themselves to attract the respect of the multitude.

Nothing about me bespoke that I was sprung from a vulgar stock, and thus scandal of that kind ceased from the day of my presentation; and public opinion having done me justice in this particular, slander was compelled to seek for food elsewhere.

That evening I had a large circle at my house. The chancellor, the bishop of Orleans, M. de Saint-Florentin, M. Bertin, the prince de Soubise, the ducs de Richelieu, de la Trimouille, de Duras, d'Aiguillon, and d'Ayen. This last did not hesitate to come to spy out all that passed in my apartments, that he might go and spread it abroad, augmented by a thousand malicious commentaries. I had also M. de Sartines, my brother-in-law, etc. The duc de la Vauguyon alone was absent. I knew beforehand that he would not come, and that it was a sacrifice which he thought himself compelled to make to the cabal. The ladies were mesdames de Bearn and d'Aloigny, with my sisters-in-law. Amongst the ladies presented they were the only ones with whom I had formed any intimacy; as for the rest I was always the "horrible creature," of whom they would not hear on any account.

The king, on entering, embraced me before the whole party. "You are a charming creature," said he to me, "and the brilliancy of your beauty has to-day reminded me of the device of my glorious ancestor."

This was a flattering commencement; the rest of the company chimed in with their master, and each tried to take the first part in the chorus. The duc d'Ayen even talked of my grace of manner. "Ah, sir," said I to him, "I have had time to learn it from Pharamond to the reigning king."

This allusion was bitter, and did not escape the duke, who turned pale in spite of his presence of mind, on finding that I was aware of the malicious repartee which he had made to the king when talking of me, and which I have already mentioned to you. The chancellor said to me,

"You have produced a great effect, but especially have you triumphed over the cabal by the nobility of your manners and the dignity of your mien; and thus you have deprived it of one of its greatest engines of mischief, that of calumniating your person."

"They imagined then," said I to him, "that I could neither speak nor be silent, neither walk nor sit still."

"As they wished to find you ignorant and awkward they have set you down as such. This is human nature: when we hate any one, we say they are capable of any thing; then, that they have become guilty of every thing; and, to wind up all, they adopt for truth to-day what they invented last night."

"Were you not fearful?" inquired the king.

"Forgive me, sire," I answered, "when I say that I feared lest I should not please your majesty; and I was excessively desirous of convincing mesdames of my respectful attachment."

This reply was pronounced to be fitting and elegant, altho' I had not in any way prepared it. The fact is, that I was in great apprehension lest I should displease the king's daughters; and I dreaded lest they should manifest too openly the little friendship which they had towards me. Fortunately all passed off to a miracle, and my good star did not burn dimly in this decisive circumstance.

Amongst those who rejoiced at my triumph I cannot forget the duc d'Aiguillon. During the whole of the day he was in the greatest agitation. His future destiny was, in a measure, attached to my fortune; he knew that his whole existence depended on mine; and he expected from me powerful support to defend him against the pack of his enemies, who were yelping open-mouthed against him. He stood in need of all his strength of mind and equanimity to conceal the disquietude and perplexity by which he was internally agitated.

The comte Jean also participated in this great joy. His situation at court was not less doubtful; he had no longer reason to blush for his alliance with me, and could now form, without excess of presumption, the most brilliant hopes of the splendor of his house. His son, the vicomte Adolphe, was destined to high fortune; and I assure you that I deeply regretted when a violent and premature death took him away from his family. My presentation permitted his father to realize the chimera which he had pursued with so much perseverance. He flattered himself in taking part with me. I did not forget him in the distribution of my rewards; and the king's purse was to him a source into which he frequently dipped with both hands.

The next day I had a visit from the chancellor.

"Now," said he, "you are at the height of your wishes, and we must arrange matters, that the king shall find perpetual and varied amusements, with you. He does not like large parties; a small circle is enough for him; then he is at his ease, and likes to see the same faces about him. If you follow my advice you will have but few females about you, and select that few with discernment."

"How can I choose them at all when I see so very few?" was my reply. "I have no positive intimacy with any court lady; and amongst the number I should be at a loss to select any one whom I would wish to associate with in preference to another."

"Oh, do not let that disturb you," he replied: "they leave you alone now, because each is intent on observing what others may do; but as soon as any one shall pay you a visit, the others will run as fast after you as did the sheep of Panurge. I am greatly deceived if they are not very desirous that one of them shall devote herself, and make the first dash, that they may profit by her pretended fault. I know who will not be the last to come and station herself amongst the furniture of your apartment. The marechale de Mirepoix was too long the complaisant friend of madame de Pompadour not to become, and that very soon, the friend of the comtesse du Barry."

"Good heaven," I exclaimed, "how delighted I should be to have the friendship of this lady, whose wit and amiable manners are so greatly talked of."

"Yes," said de Maupeou, laughing, "she is a type of court ladies, a mixture of dignity and suppleness, majesty and condescension, which is worth its weight in gold. She was destined from all eternity to be the companion of the king's female friends."

We both laughed; and the chancellor went on to say: "There are others whom I will point out to you by and by; as for this one, I undertake to find out whether she will come first of the party. She has sent to ask an audience of me concerning a suit she has in hand. I will profit by the circumstances to come to an explanation with her, about you. She is not over fond of the Choiseul party; and I augur this, because I see that she puts on a more agreeable air towards them."



CHAPTER XV

The Comte de la Marche, a prince of the blood—Madame de Beauvoir, his mistress—Madame du Barry complains to the prince de Soubise of the princess de Guemenee—The king consoles the countess for this—The duc de Choiseul—The king speaks to him of madame du Barry—Voltaire writes to her—The opinions of Richelieu and the king concerning Voltaire

Amongst those personages who came to compliment me on the evening of my presentation was M. the comte de la Marche, son of the prince du Conti, and consequently prince of the blood. He had long been devoted to the will of Louis XV. As soon as his most serene highness had wind of my favor he hastened to add to the number of my court; and I leave you to imagine how greatly I was flattered at seeing it augmented by so august a personage.

This conquest was most valuable in my eyes, for I thus proved to the world, that by attracting the king to me I did not isolate him from the whole of his family. It is very true that for some time the comte de la Marche had been out of favor with the public, by reason of his over complaisance towards the ministers of the king's pleasure; but he was not the less a prince of the blood, and at Versailles this rank compensated for almost every fault. He was a lively man, moreover, his society was agreeable, and the title he bore reflected his distinction amongst a crowd of courtiers. I felt, therefore, that I ought to consider myself as very fortunate that he deigned to visit me, and accordingly received him with all the civility I could display; and the welcome reception which he always experienced drew him frequently to my abode.

The friendship with which he honored me was not agreeable to my enemies; and they tried by every possible means to seduce him from me. They got his near relations to talk to him about it; his intimate friends to reason with him; the females whom he most admired to dissuade him from it. There was not one of these latter who did not essay to injure me in his estimation, by saying that he dishonored himself by an acquaintance with me. There was amongst others a marquise de Beauvoir, the issue of a petty nobility, whom he paid with sums of gold, altho' she was not his mistress by title. Gained over by the Choiseuls, she made proposals concerning me to the prince of so ridiculous a nature, that he said to her impatiently: "I' faith, my dear, as in the eyes of the world every woman who lives with a man who is not her husband is a ———, so I think a man is wise to choose the loveliest he can find; and in this way the king is at this moment much better off than any of his subjects."

Only imagine what a rage this put the marquise de Beauvoir in: she stormed, wept, had a nervous attack. The comte de la Marche contemplated her with a desperate tranquillity; but this scene continuing beyond the limits of tolerable patience, he was so tired of it that he left her. This was not what the marquise wished; and she hastened to write a submissive letter to him, in which, to justify herself, she confessed to the prince, that in acting against me she had only yielded to the instigations of the cabal, and particularly alluded to mesdames de Grammont and de Guemenee.

The comte de la Marche showed me this letter, which I retained in spite of his resistance and all the efforts he made to obtain possession of it again. My intention was to show it to the king; and I did not fail to give it to him at the next visit he paid me: he read it, and shrugging up his shoulders, as was his usual custom, he said to me,

"They are devils incarnate, and the worst of the kind. They try to injure you in every way, but they shall not succeed. I receive also anonymous letters against you, they are tossed into the post-box in large packets with feigned names, in the hope that they will reach me. Such slanders ought not to annoy you: in the days of madame de Pompadour, the same thing was done. The same schemes were tried to ruin madame de Chateauroux. Whenever I have been suspected of any tenderness towards a particular female, every species of intrigue has been instantly put in requisition. Moreover," he continued, "madame de Grammont attacks you with too much obstinacy not to make me believe but that she would employ all possible means to attain her end."