The duc d’Aiguillon’s first letter--The maréchale de
Mirepoix--A second letter from the duc d’Aiguillon--Numerous
visitors
“My much esteemed friend,--I promised you upon your departure to inform
you of all that transpired, and although the task is a mournful one,
I will do my best to acquit myself with zeal and sincerity, and each
evening I will write you an exact detail of all that has occurred during
the day. The king remains much as you left him, and you must know
that already his medical attendants differ in their opinion respecting
him--Lemonnier utterly despairing of his recovery, while Bordeu is
most sanguine that he shall be enabled to restore him to health. La
Martinière persists in his assertion that the attention of the king
should be immediately directed to his spiritual concerns. The archbishop
of Paris remains until called for in the ante-chamber, and the
princesses never leave the bedside of their august parent.
“The king spoke with me concerning you for some time this morning, and I
can assure you, you are the first object in his thoughts; he has begged
of me never to forsake you, and has deigned to repose in me the enviable
post of your future protector. ‘I bequeath my beloved friend to
your fidelity,’ added the suffering prince. I took advantage of this
opportunity to remark that I looked upon your quitting Versailles as too
precipitate and premature a step. ‘No, no,’ replied the king, ‘I have
acted for the best; I have once been deceived as to my condition, and I
would willingly prevent being again taken by surprise. Tell my beloved
and excellent countess how truly I love her’; and hearing the prince de
Soubise mention his design of supping at Ruel, he charged him to embrace
you for him.
“The dauphin still remains secluded in his apartment, but I know that he
keeps up a regular correspondence with madame Victoire, whose letters,
after being immersed in vinegar, are carried to the comte de Muy, who
fumigates them previously to allowing them to reach the hands of the
dauphin.
“I am, etc., etc.
“VERSAILLES, May 5, 1774, nine o’clock, evening.”
Upon awaking the following morning I again received news of the king,
who was stated to have passed a good night, and even La Martinière
seemed inclined to hope. As yet, then, there were no safe grounds for
abandoning me, and about two o’clock in the afternoon I was favoured
with a visit from madame de Mirepoix, who, running up to me, exclaimed
with her usual vivacity,
“Oh, my dear creature, how I longed to see you!” and then leading me
into another chamber, she added,
“Do you know I quite missed you? As I wrote you, my time hung heavily
on my hands. What in the world will become of me if I am compelled to
resign the delightful hours granted to the envied few who are permitted
the _entrée_ to the _petits appartements_? For you see, my dear, the
dauphiness will be far from bestowing that honour upon me. I am too old
to form one of her coterie, and I shall be laid aside like the rest
of the antiquities of the château. By the way,” continued the voluble
maréchale, “there is already a great cabal in the château respecting the
formation of a new ministry, in which, besides desiring lucrative posts
for themselves, all are anxious to introduce their private friends;
in the midst of so many absorbing interests you appear to be already
forgotten, which, by the way, is no bad thing for you. Your best plan
is to remain perfectly tranquil.” Then rapidly passing to her most
prevailing idea, this excellent friend proceeded to inquire what the
king had bestowed on me as a parting present, “for,” said she, “he would
not certainly permit you to leave Versailles empty-handed.”
“It is a point,” replied I, “that neither his majesty nor myself once
thought of.”
“Then such an omission proves him a vile egotist, and you a prodigious
simpleton,” answered she; “and were I in your place, I would commission
the duc d’Aiguillon to make a direct demand of a future provision for
you; you really should see about this, and secure to yourself a noble
establishment for yourself and your friends, who ought not to suffer for
your overstrained delicacy. Look at the duc de Choiseul, who has kept a
regular court at Chanteloup, and never wanted for a train of courtiers
at it.”
After this lesson of worldly wisdom, the excellent maréchale gave me a
friendly kiss, returned to her carriage, and I saw her no more during my
stay at Ruel.
The evening brought with it a second letter from the duc d’Aiguillon, it
was as follows:--
“MADAM,--I hasten to acquaint you with the pleasing information of his
majesty being considerably better; his strength appears to have returned,
and he himself, in the consciousness of improving health, expressed
aloud his regret for having been so hasty in advising your removal from
him. He has continually repeated, ‘How weak and selfish of me thus to
afflict my dearest countess! would you not advise me, my friend,
to request her immediate return?’ Of course, my reply was in the
affirmative. His majesty then put the same question to the duc de
Richelieu, who answered, that in his opinion it was the best plan he
could decide upon. The bulletin signed by the different physicians
accompanies this: it leaves me nothing to add but to recommend your
bearing with patience this temporary absence from court, to which you
will ere long return, more idolized, more sought after, than ever. The
duc de la Vrillière and the abbé Terray present the assurance of their
unbounded respect and devotion, etc., etc.”
The duchess, my sister-in-law, and niece shared in joy at such
gratifying intelligence, and the ensuing day brought a concourse of
visitors to Ruel; indeed, any one might have supposed that fresh swarms
of flatterers and courtiers had been created only to swell my numbers
of humble and obsequious adorers. I bestowed on each unmeaning guest a
smiling welcome, for indeed, my heart was too light and I felt too happy
to be enabled to frown even upon those who, when the storm appeared
near, had basely deserted me.
It was amusing enough to see with what zeal any person, whom I had
previously recommended was assisted by the various ministers in the
pursuit of their object; the _petit saint_ found himself all at once at
leisure to pay his respects to me. He confirmed all the kind messages
sent me by the king through the duc d’Aiguillon. Madame de Mirepoix,
who had visited me the preceding evening, reserved her next call for the
following day, but a few hours effected a cruel change in my fortune.