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 château:
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 château, 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 château 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, _capitoul_ 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
_presenteuse_. 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 _stepmother_ 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 _marraine_ (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 _dauphine_. This was the point aimed at
by all the ambitious courtiers. Comte Jean thought these conditions
preposterous. He had a _carte blanche_ 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 _sine die_. 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 _worse_.”)
“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 _garde du corps_, 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 _dauphine_.”
“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 _written_ 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 _mezzo termine_.