Memoirs of the Comtesse Du Barry Part 38

The simplicity of comte d'Aranda indemnified us in some degree for the haughty superciliousness of his predecessor. Although no longer young, he still preserved all the tone and vigor of his mind, and only the habit which appeared to have been born with him of reflecting, gave him a slow and measured tone in speaking. His reserved and embarra.s.sed manners were but ill-calculated to show the man as he really was, and it required all the advantages of intimacy to see him in his true value. You may attach so much more credit to what I say of this individual, as I can only add, that he was by no means one of my best friends.

When Louis XV heard of the nomination of the comte d'Aranda to the emba.s.sy from Spain to France, he observed to me,

"The king of Spain gets rid of his Choiseul by sending him to me."

"Then why not follow so excellent an example, sire?" replied I; "and since your Choiseul is weary of Chanteloup, why not command him upon some political errand to the court of Madrid."

"Heaven preserve me from such a thing," exclaimed Louis XV. "Such a man as he is ought never to quit the kingdom, and I have been guilty of considerable oversight to leave him the liberty of so doing. But to return to comte d'Aranda; he has some merit I understand; still I like not that cla.s.s of persons around me; they are inexorable censors, who condemn alike every action of my life."

However, not the king's greatest enemy could have found fault with his manner of pa.s.sing his leisure hours. A great part of each day was occupied in a mysterious manufacture of cases for relics, and one of his valets de chambre, named Turpigny, was intrusted with the commission of purchasing old shrines and reliquaries; he caused the sacred bones, or whatever else they contain, to be taken out by Grandelatz, one of his almoners, re-adjusted, and then returned to new cases. These reliquaries were distributed by him to his daughters, or any ladies of the court of great acknowledged piety. When I heard of this I mentioned it to the king, who wished at first to conceal the fact; but, as he was no adept at falsehood or disguise, he was compelled to admit the fact.

"I trust, sire," said I, "that you will bestow one of your prettiest and best-arranged reliquaries on me." "No, no," returned he, hastily, "that cannot be." "And why not?" asked I.

"Because," answered he, "it would be sinful of me. Ask anything else in my power to bestow, and it shall be yours."

This was no hypocrisy on the part of Louis XV, who, spite of his somewhat irregular mode of life, professed to hold religion in the highest honor and esteem; to all that it proscribed he paid the submission of a child. We had ample proofs of this in the sermons preached at Versailles by the abbe de Beauvais, afterwards bishop of Senetz.

This ecclesiastic, filled with an inconsiderate zeal, feared not openly to attack the king in his public discourses; he even went so far as to interfere with many things of which he was not a competent judge, and which by no means belonged to his jurisdiction: in fact, there were ample grounds for sending the abbe to the Bastille. The court openly expressed its dissatisfaction at this audacity, and for my own part I could not avoid evincing the lively chagrin it caused me. Yet, would you believe it, Louis XV declared, in a tone from which there was no appealabbe had merely done his duty, and that those who had been less scrupulous in the performance of theirs, would do well to be silent on the subject. This was not all; the cardinal de la Roche Aymon, his grand almoner, refused to sanction the nomination of M. de Beauvais to the bishopric, under the pretext of his not being n.o.bly descended.

M. de Beyons, bishop of Carca.s.sone, a prelate of irreproachable character, was deeply distressed to find that the want of birth would exclude M. de Beauvais from the dignities of his holy profession. He went to discuss the matter with the grand almoner, who again advanced his favorite plea for excluding M. de Beauvais. "My lord," replied M. de Beyons, "if I believed that n.o.bility of descent were the chief requisite for our advancement in our blessed calling, I would trample my crosier under foot, and renounce for ever all church dignities."

M. de Beyons sought the king, and loudly complained to him of the infatuation and obstinacy of M. de la Roche Aymon. Louis XV however commanded that M. de Beauvais should be appointed to the first vacant see, and when the grand almoner repeated his objections to the preferment, the king answered, "Monsieur le cardinal, in the days of our blessed Saviour the apostles had no need to present their genealogical tree, duly witnessed and attested. It is my pleasure to make M. de Beauvais a bishop; let that end the discussion of the matter."

The command was too peremptory to admit of any course but instant and entire submission.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

M. D--n and madame de Blessac-Anecdote-The rendezvous and the Ball-The wife of Gaubert-They wish to give her to the king- Intrigues-Their results-Letter from the duc de la Vrilliere to the countess-Reply-Reconciliation

Amongst the pages of the chapel was one whom the king distinguished so greatly, that he raised him to the rank of a gentleman of the bedchamber, and confided to his charge the cabinet of medals, for which he had imbibed a taste since his liaison with madame de Pompadour. This esteemed page was named M. D---n, who united to the most amiable wit a varied and deep knowledge of men and things. He had had adventures at an age when they are usually just understood, and talked of them with the utmost indiscretion. But this so far from doing him any injury in the eyes of the world only served to make him the more admired; for women in general have an inclination for those who do not respect their reputation.

At the period I allude to a madame de Blessac, a very well-looking woman, took upon herself to be very kindly disposed towards the gentleman-in-waiting. She told him so, and thereupon M. de D---n ranged himself under her banner, and swore eternal constancy. However, the lady, by some accident, became greatly smitten with the prince de la Trimouille, and without quitting the little keeper of medals, gave him a lord for a subst.i.tute. M. D---n soon learnt this fact, that he was not the sole possessor of a heart which formed all his joy and glory. He found he was deceived, and he swore to be revenged.

Now the prince de la Trimouille had for his mistress mademoiselle Lubert, an opera-dancer, very pretty and extraordinarily silly. M. D---n went to her; "Mademoiselle," said he, "I come to offer my services to you in the same way that M. de la Trimouille has offered his to madame de Blessac, with whom I was on exceedingly intimate terms."

The services of young D---n were accepted, and he was happy. He then wrote to his former mistress, saying, that anxious to give her a proof of his sincere attachment he had visited mademoiselle Lubert, that he might leave her at leisure to receive the visits of the prince de la Trimouille.

Madame de Blessac, stung to the quick, quarrelled with the prince, who was excessively enraged with his rival; and there certainly would have been an affair between these two gentlemen, had not the king preserved the peace by sending his gentleman to St. Petersburg as attache to the emba.s.sy. M. D---n went to Russia, therefore, and on his return came to see me, and is now one of the most welcome and agreeable of the men of my private circle.

As to madame de Blessac, she continued to carry on the war in grand style. Her husband dying she married again a foolish count, three parts ruined, and who speedily dissipated the other quarter of his own fortune and the whole of his wife's. Madame Ramosky then attacked the rich men of the day one after another. One alone stood out against her; it was M. de la Garde, who had been one of my admirers. Madame Ramoski wrote to him; he did not answer. At length she determined on visiting him, and wrote him a note, to say that she should call upon him about six o'clock in the evening. What did M. de la Garde? Why he gave a ball on that very evening; and, when madame Ramoski reached his hotel, she found it illuminated. As she had come quite unprepared she was compelled to return as she came, very discontentedly.

But to leave madame de Blessac and M. D---n, and to talk of my own matters. We had at this period a very great alarm at the chateau, caused by the crime of a man, who preferred rather to a.s.sa.s.sinate his wife than to allow her to dishonor him. It is worthy of narration.

A pretty shopkeeper of Paris, named Gaubert, who lived in the rue de la Montagne Sainte-Genevieve, had recently married a woman much younger than himself. From the Pet.i.t Pont to the rue Mouffetard, madame Gaubert was talked of for her lovely face and beautiful figure; she was the Venus of the quarter. Everybody paid court to her, but she listened to none of her own rank, for her vanity suggested that she deserved suitors of a loftier rank.

Her husband was very jealous. Unfortunately M. Gaubert had for cousin one of the valets of the king: this man, who knew the taste of his master, thought how he could best turn his pretty cousin to account. He spoke to her of the generosity of Louis XV, of the grandeur of Versailles, and of the part which her beauty ent.i.tled her to play there. In fact, he so managed to turn the head of this young woman, that she begged him to obtain for her a place in the king's favor. Consequently Girard (that was his name) went to madame de Laugeac, and told her the affair as it was. She pleased with an opportunity of injuring me, went to Paris, and betook herself incog. to the shop of madame Gaubert. She found her charming, and spoke of her to the duc de la Vrilliere, and both agreed to show her portrait to his majesty. But how to procure this portrait? Her husband was her very shadow, and never left her. Le pet.i.t saint, who was never at a loss, issued a lettre de cachet against him, and the unfortunate man was shut up in Fort l'Eveque. It was not until the portrait was finished that he was set at liberty.

He returned to his home without guessing at the motives of his detention, but he learned that his wife had had her portrait painted during his absence, and his jealousy was set to work. Soon a letter from Girard, a fatal letter, which fell into his hands, convinced him of the injury done him. He took his wife apart, and, feigning a resignation which he did not feel, "My love," he said, "I loved thee, I love thee still: I thought, too, that thou wert content with our competence, and wouldst not have quitted thine husband for any other in the world: I have been convinced otherwise. A letter from Girard informs me, that with thine own consent the king, whom thy portrait has pleased, desires to see thee this very day. It is a misfortune, but we must submit. Only before thou art established at Versailles, I should wish thee to dine with me once more. You can invite cousin Girard, too, for I owe him something for what he has done for thee."

The young wife promised to return and see her husband. That evening at the performance at the court she was seated in the same box with the marquise de Laugeac; the king's gla.s.s was directed towards her the whole time, and at the termination of the spectacle it was announced to her, that she was to sleep at the chateau the next evening. The project was never realized.

The next day, according to promise, the young wife went to Paris with the valet. She informed her husband of the success which had befallen her, and he appeared delighted. Dinner being ready, they seated themselves at table, ate and drank. Girard began to laugh at his cousin for his complaisance, when suddenly all desire to jest left him. He experienced most horrible pains, and his cousin suffered as well as himself. "Wretches!" said Gaubert to them, "did you think I would brook dishonor? No, no! I have deceived you both the better to wreak my vengeance. I am now happy. Neither king nor valet shall ever possess my wife. I have poisoned you, and you must die." The two victims implored his pity. "Yes," said he to his wife, "thy sufferings pain me, and I will free you from them." He then plunged a knife to her heart; and, turning to Girard, said, "As for thee, I hate thee too much to kill thee; die." And he left him.

The next day M. de Sartines came and told me the whole story. He had learnt them from the valet, who had survived his poisoning for some hours. Gaubert could not be found, and it was feared that he would attempt some desperate deed. No one dared mention it to the king, but the captain of the guards and the first gentleman in waiting took every possible precaution; and when Louis XV asked for the young female who was to be brought to him, they told him that she had died of a violent distemper. It was not until some days afterwards that the terror which pervaded the chateau ceased. They had found the body of the unfortunate Gaubert on the banks of the Seine.

In spite of what had pa.s.sed, the duc de la Vrilliere had the impudence to present himself to me. I treated him with disdain, reproaching him and Laugeac for their conduct. He left me in despair, and wrote me the following letter:-

"MADAME LA COMTESSE,-Your anger kills me. I am guilty, but not so much so as you may imagine. The duty of my office compels me to do many things which are disagreeable to me. In the affair for which you have so slightingly treated me there was no intent to injure you, but only to procure for the king an amus.e.m.e.nt which should make him the more estimate your charms and your society. Forgive a fault in which my heart bore no share; I am sufficiently miserable, and shall not know repose until I be reinstated in your good graces.

"As for the poor marchioness she is no more to blame than myself. She feels for you as much esteem as attachment, and is anxious to prove it at any opportunity. I beseech you not to treat her rigorously. Think that we only work together for the good of the king, and that it would be unjust of you to hate us because we have endeavored to please this excellent prince. I hope that, contented with this justification, you will not refuse to grant me the double amnesty which I ask of your goodness."

I replied thus:-

"Your letter, monsieur le duc, seduces me no more than your words. I know you well, and appreciate you fully. I was ignorant up to this time, that amongst the duties of your office, certain such functions were imposed upon you. It appears that you attend to them as well as to others, and I sincerely compliment you thereupon; I beg of you to announce it in the 'Court Kalendar.' It will add, I am convinced, to the universal esteem in which you are held.

"As to madame de Laugeac, she is even more insignificant than you, and that is not saying much. I thank her for her esteem and attachment, but can dispense with any marks of them; no good can come from such an one as she. Thus, M. le duc, keep quiet both of you, and do not again attempt measures which may compromise me. Do your business and leave me to mine.

"I am, with all due consideration,

"Your servant,

"COMTESSE DU BARRY"

I mentioned this to the king, who insisted on reconciling me with le pet.i.t saint, who came and knelt to me. I granted the pardon sought, out of regard for Louis XV; but from that moment the contempt I felt for the duke increased an hundredfold.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

Conversation with the king-Marriage of the comte d'Artois- Intrigues-The place of lady of honor-The marechale de Mirepoix-The comtesse de Forcalquier and madame du Barry-The comtesse de Forcalquier and madame Boncault

The king was much annoyed at the indifference I evinced for all state secrets, and frequently observed to me, "You are not at all like madame de Pompadour: she was never satisfied unless she knew all that was going on, and was permitted to take an active part in every transaction; she would frequently scold me for not telling her things of which I was myself ignorant. She was at the bottom of the most secret intrigues, and watched every turn of my countenance, as though she sought to read in my eyes the inmost thoughts of my mind. Never," continued the king, "did woman more earnestly desire supreme command; and so completely had she learned to play my part, that I have frequently surprised her giving private instructions to my amba.s.sadors, differing altogether from what I myself had dictated to them. Upon the same principle she maintained at various courts envoys and ministers, who acted by her orders, and in her name; she even succeeded in obtaining the friendship of the grave and austere Marie Therese, who ultimately carried her condescension so far, as only to address the marchioness by the t.i.tle of 'cousin' and 'dear friend.' I must confess, however, that these proceedings on the part of madame de Pompadour were by no means agreeable to me, and I even prefer your ignorance of politics to her incessant interference with them."

This was said by Louis XV upon the occasion of the approaching marriage of the comte d'Artois, the object of universal cabal and court intrigue to all but myself, who preserved perfect tranquillity amidst the general excitement that prevailed.

Various reasons made the marriage of this prince a matter of imperative necessity. In the first place, the open gallantry of the young count had attracted a crowd of disreputable personages of both s.e.xes to Versailles, and many scandalous adventures occurred within the chateau itself; secondly, a motive still more important in the eyes of Louis XV, originated in the circ.u.mstance of neither the marriage of the dauphin nor that of the comte de Provence having been blest with any offspring. The king began to despair of seeing any descendants in a direct line, unless indeed heaven should smile upon the wedded life of the comte d'Artois. Louis XV disliked the princes of the blood, and the bare idea that the duc d'Orleans might one day wield his sceptre would have been worse than death.

Many alliances were proposed for the prince. Marie Josephe, infanta of Spain, was then in her twentieth year, and consequently too old. The princess Marie-Francoise-Benedictine-Anne-Elizabeth- Josephe-Antonine-Laurence-Ignace-Therese-Gertrude-Marguerite-Rose, etc., etc., of Portugal, although younger than the first-mentioned lady, was yet considered as past the age that would have rendered her a suitable match for so young a bridegroom. The daughter of any of the electoral houses of Germany was not considered an eligible match, and the pride of the house of Bourbon could not stoop to so ign.o.ble an alliance. There was no alternative left therefore, but to return to the house of Savoy, and take a sister of the comtesse de Provence. This proposal was well received by the royal family, with the exception of the dauphiness, who dreaded the united power and influence of the two sisters, if circ.u.mstances should ever direct it against herself or her wishes; and I heard from good authority, that both the imperial Marie Therese and her daughter made many remonstrances to the king upon the subject. "The empress," said Louis XV, one day, "believes that things are still managed here as in the days of the marquise de Pompadour and the duc de Choiseul. Thank heaven, I am no longer under the dominion of my friend and her pensionaries. I shall follow my own inclinations, and consult, in the marriage of my grandson, the interests of France rather than those of Austria."

The little attention paid by Louis XV to the representations of Marie Therese furnished my enemies with a fresh pretext for venting their spleen. They accused me of having been bribed by the court of Turin, which ardently desired a second alliance with France. I was most unjustly accused, for I can with truth affirm, that the comte de la Marmora, amba.s.sador from Piedmont to Paris, neither by word nor deed made any attempt to interest me in his success. The king was the first person who informed me of the contemplated marriage, and my only fault (if it could be called one) was having approved of the match.

More than one intrigue was set on foot within the chateau to separate the princes. Many were the attempts to sow the seeds of dissension between the dauphin and the comte d'Artois, as well as to embroil the dauphin with monsieur. The first attempt proved abortive, but the faction against monsieur succeeded so far as to excite a lasting jealousy and mistrust in the mind of Marie Antoinette. This princess was far from contemplating the marriage of the comte d'Artois with any feelings of pleasure, and when her new sister-in-law became a mother, she bewailed her own misfortune in being without children with all the feelings of a young and affectionate heart. Heaven did not, however, always deny her the boon she so ardently desired.

You will, readily believe that the same anxiety prevailed upon the occasion of this approaching marriage as had existed at the unions of the dauphin and the comte de Provence, to obtain the various posts and places the ambition of different persons led them to desire in the establishment of the newly married pair. Wishing on my own part to offer the marechale de Mirepoix a proof of my high estimation of her friendship towards me, I inquired of her whether a superior employment about the person of the comtesse d'Artois would be agreeable to her?