Courson, Intendant, or rather King of Languedoc, exercised his authority
there so tyrannically that the people suffered the most cruel oppressions
at his hands. He had been Intendant of Rouen, and was so hated that more
than once he thought himself in danger of having his brains beaten out
with stones. He became at last so odious that he was removed; but the
credit of his father saved him, and he was sent as Intendant to Bordeaux.
He was internally and externally a very animal, extremely brutal,
extremely insolent, his hands by no means clean, as was also the case
with those of his secretaries, who did all his work for him, he being
very idle and quite unfit for his post.
Amongst other tyrannic acts he levied very violent and heavy taxes in
Perigueux, of his own good will and pleasure, without any edict or decree
of the Council; and seeing that people were not eager to satisfy his
demands, augmented them, multiplied the expenses, and at last threw into
dungeons some sheriffs and other rich citizens. He became so tyrannical
that they sent a deputation to Paris to complain of him. But the
deputies went in vain the round of all the members of the council of the
regency, after having for two months kicked their heels in the ante-
chamber of the Duc de Noailles, the minister who ought to have attended
to their representations.
The Comte de Toulouse, who was a very just man, and who had listened to
them, was annoyed that they could obtain no hearing of the Duc de,
Noailles, and spoke to me on the subject. I was as indignant as he.
I spoke to M. le Duc d'Orleans, who only knew the matter superficially.
I showed him the necessity of thoroughly examining into complaints of
this nature; the injustice of allowing these deputies to wear out hope,
patience, and life, in the streets of Paris, without giving some
audience; the cruelty of suffering honest citizens to languish in
dungeons, without knowing why or by what authority they were there. He
agreed with me, and promised to speak to the Duc de Noailles. At the
first finance council after this, I apprised the Comte de Toulouse, and
we both asked the Duc de Noailles when he meant to bring forward the
affair of these Perigueux people.
He was utterly unprepared for this question, and wished to put us off. I
said to him that for a long time some of these people had been in prison,
and others had wandered the streets of Paris; that this was shameful, and
could not be longer endured. The Comte de Toulouse spoke very firmly, in
the same sense. M. le Duc d'Orleans arrived and took his place.
As the Duc de Noailles opened his bag, I said very loudly to M. le Duc
d'Orleans that M. le Comte de Toulouse and I had just asked M. de
Noailles when he would bring forward the Perigueux affair; that these
people, innocent or guilty, begged only to be heard and tried; and that
it appeared to me the council was in honour bound to keep them in misery
no longer. On finishing, I looked at the Comte de Toulouse, who also
said something short but rather strong. M. le Duc d'Orleans replied that
we could not have done better. The Duc de Noailles began muttering
something about the press of business; that he had not time, and so
forth. I interrupted him by saying that he must find time, and that he
ought to have found it long before; that nothing was so important as to
keep people from ruin, or to extricate others from dungeons they were
remaining in without knowing why. M. le Duc d'Orleans said a word to the
same effect, and ordered the Duc de Noailles to get himself ready to
bring forward the case in a week.
From excuse to excuse, three weeks passed over. At last I said openly to
M. le Duc d'Orleans that he was being laughed at, and that justice was
being trodden under foot. At the next council it appeared that M. le Duc
d'Orleans had already told the Duc de Noailles he would wait no longer.
M. le Comte de Toulouse and I continued to ask him if at last he would
bring forward the Perigueux affair. We doubted not that it would in the
end be brought forward, but artifice was not yet at an end.
It was on a Tuesday afternoon, when M. le Duc d'Orleans often abridged
the council to go to the opera. Knowing this, the Duc de Noailles kept
all the council occupied with different matters. I was between him and
the Comte de Toulouse. At the end of each matter I said to him, "And the
Perigueux affair?"--"Directly," he replied, and at once commenced
something else. At last I perceived his project, and whispered so to the
Comte de Toulouse, who had already suspected it, and resolved not to be
its dupe. When the Duc de Noailles had exhausted his bag, it was five
o'clock. After putting back his papers he closed his bag, and said to M.
le Duc d'Orleans that there was still the Perigueux affair which he had
ordered him to bring forward, but that it would be long and detailed;
that he doubtless wished to go to the opera; that it could be attended to
next week; and at once, without waiting for a reply, he rises, pushes
back his stool, and turns to go away. I took him by the arm.
"Gently," said I. "You must learn his highness's pleasure. Monsieur,"
said I to M. le Duc d'Orleans, still firmly holding the sleeve of the Duc
de Noailles, "do you care much to-day for the opera?"
"No, no," replied he; "let us turn to the Perigueux affair."
"But without strangling it," replied I.
"Yes," said M. le Duc d'Orleans: then looking at M. le Duc, who smiled;
"you don't care to go there?"
"No, Monsieur, let us see this business," replied M. le Duc.
"Oh, sit down again then, Monsieur," said I to the Duc de Noailles in a
very firm tone, pulling him sharply; "take your rest, and re-open your
bag."
Without saying a word he drew forward his stool with a great noise, and
threw himself upon it as though he would smash it. Rage beamed from his
eyes. The Comte de Toulouse smiled; he had said his word, too, upon the
opera, and all the company looked at us; nearly every one smiling, but
astounded also.
The Duc de Noailles displayed his papers, and began reading them. As
various documents were referred to, I turned them over, and now and then
took him up and corrected him. He did not dare to show anger in his
replies, yet he was foaming. He passed an eulogy upon Basville (father
of the Intendant), talked of the consideration he merited; excused
Courson, and babbled thereupon as much as he could to extenuate
everything, and lose sight of the principal points at issue. Seeing that
he did not finish, and that he wished to tire us, and to manage the
affair in his own way, I interrupted him, saying that the father and the
son were two people; that the case in point respected the son alone, and
that he had to determine whether an Intendant was authorised or not, by
his office, to tax people at will; to raise imposts in the towns and
country places of his department, without edicts ordering them, without
even a decree of council, solely by his own particular ordonnances, and
to keep people in prison four or five months, without form or shadow of
trial, because they refused to pay these heavy taxes, rendered still more
heavy by expenses. Then, turning round so as to look hard at him, "It is
upon that, Monsieur," added I, "that we must decide, since your report is
over, and not amuse ourselves with a panegyric upon M. de Basville, who
is not mixed up in the case."
The Duc de Noailles, all the more beside himself because he saw the
Regent smile, and M. le Duc, who looked at me do the same, but more
openly, began to speak, or rather to stammer. He did not dare, however,
to decide against the release of the prisoners.
"And the expenses, and the ordonnance respecting these taxes, what do you
do with them?"
"By setting the prisoners at liberty," he said, "the ordonnance falls to
the ground."
I did not wish to push things further just then. The liberation of the
prisoners, and the quashing of the ordonnance, were determined on: some
voices were for the reimbursement of the charges at the expense of the
Intendant, and for preventing him to do the like again.
When it was my turn to speak, I expressed the same opinions, but I added
that it was not enough to recompense people so unjustly ill-treated; that
I thought a sum of money, such as it should please the council to
name, ought to be adjudged to them; and that as to an Intendant who
abused the authority of his office so much as to usurp that of the King
and impose taxes, such as pleased him by his own ordinances, and who
threw people into dungeons as he thought fit by his private authority,
pillaging thus a province, I was of opinion that his Royal Highness
should be asked to make such an example of him that all the other
Intendants might profit by it.
The majority of those who had spoken before me made signs that I was
right, but did not speak again. Others were against me. M. le Duc
d'Orleans promised the liberation of the prisoners, broke Courson's!,
ordonnance, and all which had followed it; said that as for the rest, he
would take care these people should be well recompensed, and Courson well
blamed; that he merited worse, and, but for his father, would have
received it. As we were about to rise, I said it would be as well to
draw up the decree at once, and M. le Duc d'Orleans approved. Noailles
pounced, like a bird of prey, upon paper and ink, and commenced writing.
I bent down and read as he wrote. He stopped and boggled at the
annulling of the ordonnance, and the prohibition against issuing one
again without authorisation by edict or decree of council. I dictated
the clause to him; he looked at the company as though questioning all
eyes.
"Yes," said I, "it was passed like that--you have only to ask again."
M. le Duc d Orleans said, "Yes." Noailles wrote. I took the paper, and
read what he had written. He received it back in fury, cast it among the
papers pell-mell into his bag, then shoved his stool almost to the other
end of the room, and went out, bristling like a wild boar, without
looking at or saluting anybody--we all laughing. M. le Duc and several
others came to me, and with M. le Comte de Toulouse, were much diverted.
M. de Noailles had, in fact, so little command over himself, that, in
turning to go out, he struck the table, swearing, and saying he could
endure it no longer.
I learnt afterwards, by frequenters of the Hotel de Noailles, who told it
to my friends, that when he reached home he went to bed: and would not
see a soul; that fever seized him, that the next day he was of a
frightful temper, and, that he had been heard to say he could no longer
endure the annoyances I caused him. It may be imagined whether or not
this softened me. The Duc de Noailles had, in fact, behaved towards me
with such infamous treachery, and such unmasked impudence, that I took
pleasure at all times and at all places in making him feel, and others
see, the sovereign disdain I entertained for him. I did not allow my
private feelings to sway my judgment when public interests were at stake,
for when I thought the Duc de Noailles right, and this often occurred,
I supported him; but when I knew him to be wrong, or when I caught him
neglecting his duties, conniving at injustice, shirking inquiry, or
evading the truth, I in no way spared him. The incident just related is
an illustration of the treatment he often received at my hands. Fret,
fume, stamp, storm, as he might, I cared nothing for him. His anger to
me was as indifferent as his friendship. I despised both equally.
Occasionally he would imagine, after there had been no storm between us
for some time, that I had become reconciled to him, and would make
advances to me. But the stern and terrible manner in which I met them,
--or rather refused to meet them, taking no more notice of his politeness
and his compliments, than as if they made no appeal whatever to my eyes
or ears,--soon convinced him of the permanent nature of our quarrel, and
drove him to the most violent rage and despair.
The history of the affair was, apparently, revealed by somebody to the
deputies of Perigueux (for this very evening it was talked of in Paris),
who came and offered me many thanks. Noailles was so afraid of me, that
he did not keep their business unsettled more than two days.
A few months afterwards Courson was recalled, amid the bonfires of his
province. This did not improve him, or hinder him from obtaining
afterwards one of the two places of councillor at the Royal Council of
Finance, for he was already Councillor of State at the time of this
affair of Perigueux.
An amusement, suited to the King's age, caused a serious quarrel. A sort
of tent had been erected for him on the terrace of the Tuileries, before
his apartments, and on the same level. The diversions of kings always
have to do with distinction. He invented some medals to give to the
courtiers of his own age, whom he wished to distinguish, and those
medals, which were intended to be worn, conferred the right of entering
this tent without being invited; thus was created the Order of the
Pavilion. The Marechal de Villeroy gave orders to Lefevre to have the
medals made. He obeyed, and brought them to the Marechal, who presented
them to the King. Lefevre was silversmith to the King's household, and
as such under the orders of the first gentleman of the chamber. The Duc
de Mortemart, who had previously had some tiff with the Marechal de
Villeroy, declared that it devolved upon him to order these medals and
present them to the King. He flew into a passion because everything had
been done without his knowledge; and complained to the Duc d'Orleans.
It was a trifle not worth discussing, and in which the three other
gentlemen of the chamber took no part. Thus the Duc de Mortemart,
opposed alone to the Marechal de Villeroy, stood no chance. M. le Duc
d'Orleans, with his usual love for mezzo termine, said that Lefevre had
not made these medals, or brought them to the Marechal as silversmith,
but as having received through the Marechal the King's order, and that
nothing more must be said. The Duc de Mortemart was indignant, and did
not spare the Marechal.
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