to the King. He called her Dominique, and she was entirely in his
confidence. The young lady chatted with us after supper; she appeared to
be very naive. The next day, I talked to her in private. She said to
me, "How is the Count?" (It was the King whom she called by this title.)
"He will be very sorry not to be with me now; but he was obliged to set
off on a long journey." I assented to what she said. "He is very
handsome," said she, "and loves me with all his heart. He promised me an
allowance; but I love him disinterestedly; and, if he would let me, I
would follow him to Poland." She afterwards talked to me about her
parents, and about M. Lebel, whom she knew by the name of Durand. "My
mother," said she, "kept a large grocer's shop, and my father was a man
of some consequence; he belonged to the Six Corps, and that, as everybody
knows, is an excellent thing. He was twice very near being
head-bailiff." Her mother had become bankrupt at her father's death, but
the Count had come to her assistance, and settled upon her fifteen
hundred francs a year, besides giving her six thousand francs down. On
the sixth day, she was brought to bed, and, according to my instructions,
she was told the child was a girl, though in reality it was a boy; she
was soon to be told that it was dead, in order that no trace of its
existence might remain for a certain time. It was eventually to be
restored to its mother. The King gave each of his children about ten
thousand francs a year. They inherited after each other as they died
off, and seven or eight were already dead. I returned to Madame de
Pompadour, to whom I had written every day by Guimard. The next day, the
King sent for me into the room; he did not say a word as to the business
I had been employed upon; but he gave me a large gold snuff-box,
containing two rouleaux of twenty-five louis each. I curtsied to him,
and retired. Madame asked me a great many questions of the young lady,
and laughed heartily at her simplicity, and at all she had said about the
Polish nobleman. "He is disgusted with the Princess, and, I think, will
return to Poland for ever, in two months."--"And the young lady?" said I.
"She will be married in the country," said she, "with a portion of forty
thousand crowns at the most and a few diamonds." This little adventure,
which initiated me into the King's secrets, far from procuring for me
increased marks of kindness from him, seemed to produce a coldness
towards me; probably because he was ashamed of my knowing his obscure
amours. He was also embarrassed by the services Madame de Pompadour had
rendered him on this occasion.
Besides the little mistresses of the Parc-aux-cerfs, the King had
sometimes intrigues with ladies of the Court, or from Paris, who wrote to
him. There was a Madame de L-----, who, though married to a young and
amiable man, with two hundred thousand francs a year, wished absolutely
to become his mistress. She contrived to have a meeting with him: and
the King, who knew who she was, was persuaded that she was really madly
in love with him. There is no knowing what might have happened, had she
not died. Madame was very much alarmed, and was only relieved by her
death from inquietude. A circumstance took place at this time which
doubled Madame's friendship for me. A rich man, who had a situation in
the Revenue Department, called on me one day very secretly, and told me
that he had something of importance to communicate to Madame la Marquise,
but that he should find himself very much embarrassed in communicating it
to her personally, and that he should prefer acquainting me with it. He
then told me, what I already knew, that he had a very beautiful wife, of
whom he was passionately fond; that having on one occasion perceived her
kissing a little 'porte feuille', he endeavoured to get possession of it,
supposing there was some mystery attached to it. One day that she
suddenly left the room to go upstairs to see her sister, who had been
brought to bed, he took the, opportunity of opening the porte feuille,
and was very much surprised to find in it a portrait of the King, and a
very tender letter written by His Majesty. Of the latter he took a copy,
as also of an unfinished letter of his wife, in which she vehemently
entreated the King to allow her to have the pleasure of an interview--the
means she pointed out. She was to go masked to the public ball at
Versailles, where His Majesty could meet her under favour of a mask. I
assured M. de ------ that I should acquaint Madame with the affair, who
would, no doubt, feel very grateful for the communication. He then added,
"Tell Madame la Marquise that my wife is very clever and very intriguing.
I adore her, and should run distracted were she to be taken from me." I
lost not a moment in acquainting Madame with the affair, and gave her the
letter. She became serious and pensive, and I since learned that she
consulted M. Berrier, Lieutenant of Police, who, by a very simple but
ingeniously conceived plan, put an end to the designs of this lady. He
demanded an audience of the King, and told him that there was a lady in
Paris who was making free with His Majesty's name; that he had been given
the copy of a letter, supposed to have been written by His Majesty to the
lady in question. The copy he put into the King's hands, who read it in
great confusion, and then tore it furiously to pieces. M. Berrier added,
that it was rumoured that this lady was to meet His Majesty at the public
ball, and, at this very moment, it so happened that a letter was put into
the King's hand, which proved to be from the lady, appointing the
meeting; at least, M. Berrier judged so, as the King appeared very much
surprised on reading it, and said, "It must be allowed, M. le Lieutenant
of Police, that you are well informed." M. Berrier added, "I think it my
duty to tell Your Majesty that this lady passes for a very intriguing
person." "I believe," replied the King, "that it is not without
deserving it that she has got that character."
Madame de Pompadour had many vexations in the midst of all her grandeur.
She often received anonymous letters, threatening her with poison or
assassination: her greatest fear, however, was that of being supplanted
by a rival. I never saw her in a greater agitation than, one evening, on
her return from the drawing-room at Marly. She threw down her cloak and
muff, the instant she came in, with an air of ill-humour, and undressed
herself in a hurried manner. Having dismissed her other women, she said
to me, "I think I never saw anybody so insolent as Madame de Coaslin. I
was seated at the same table with her this evening, at a game of
'brelan', and you cannot imagine what I suffered. The men and women
seemed to come in relays to watch us. Madame de Coaslin said two or
three times, looking at me, 'Va tout', in the most insulting manner. I
thought I should have fainted, when she said, in a triumphant tone, I
have the 'brelan' of kings. I wish you had seen her courtesy to me on
parting."--"Did the King," said I, "show her particular attention?" "You
don't know him," said she; "if he were going to lodge her this very night
in my apartment, he would behave coldly to her before people, and would
treat me with the utmost kindness. This is the effect of his education,
for he is, by nature, kind-hearted and frank." Madame de Pompadour's
alarms lasted for some months, when she, one day, said to me, "That
haughty Marquise has missed her aim; she frightened the King by her grand
airs, and was incessantly teasing him for money. Now you, perhaps, may
not know that the King would sign an order for forty thousand LOUIS
without a thought, and would give a hundred out of his little private
treasury with the greatest reluctance. Lebel, who likes me better than
he would a new mistress in my place, either by chance or design had
brought a charming little sultana to the Parc-aux-cerfs, who has cooled
the King a little towards the haughty Vashti, by giving him occupation,
has received a hundred thousand francs, some jewels, and an estate.
Jannette--[The Intendant of Police.]--has rendered me great service, by
showing the King extracts from the letters broken open at the
post-office, concerning the report that Madame de Coaslin was coming into
favour: The King was much impressed by a letter from an old counsellor of
the Parliament, who wrote to one of his friends as follows: 'It is quite
as reasonable that the King should have a female friend and
confidante--as that we, in our several degrees, should so indulge
ourselves; but it is desirable that he should keep the one he has; she
is gentle, injures nobody, and her fortune is made. The one who is now
talked of will be as haughty as high birth can make her. She must have
an allowance of a million francs a year, since she is said to be
excessively extravagant; her relations must be made Dukes, Governors of
provinces, and Marshals, and, in the end, will surround the King, and
overawe the Ministers.'"
Madame de Pompadour had this passage, which had been sent to her by M.
Jannette, the Intendant of the Police, who enjoyed the King's entire
confidence. He had carefully watched the King's look, while he read the
letter, and he saw that the arguments of this counsellor, who was not a
disaffected person, made a great impression upon him. Some time
afterwards, Madame de Pompadour said to me, "The haughty Marquise behaved
like Mademoiselle Deschamps,
[A courtesan, distinguished for her charms, and still more so for an
extraordinary proof of patriotism. At a time when the public Treasury
was exhausted, Mademoiselle Deschamps sent all her plate to the Mint.
Louis XIV. boasted of this act of generous devotion to her country. The
Duc d'Ayen made it the subject of a pleasantry, which detracted nothing
from the merit of the sacrifice--but which is rather too gay for us to
venture upon.]
and she is turned off." This was not Madame's only subject of alarm. A
relation of Madame d'Estrades,
[The Comtesse d'Estrades, a relative of M. Normand, and a flatterer of
Madame de Pompadour, who brought her to Court, was secretly in the pay of
the Comte d'Argenson. That Minister, who did not disdain la Fillon, from
whom he extracted useful information, knew all that passed at the Court
of the favourite, by means of Madame d'Estrades, whose ingratitude and
perfidiousness he liberally paid.]
wife to the Marquis de C----, had made the most pointed advances to the
King, much more than were necessary for a man who justly thought himself
the handsomest man in France, and who was, moreover, a King. He was
perfectly persuaded that every woman would yield to the slightest desire
he might deign to manifest. He, therefore, thought it a mere matter of
course that women fell in love with him. M. de Stainville had a hand in
marring the success of that intrigue; and, soon afterwards, the Marquise
de C-----, who was confined to her apartments at Marly, by her relations,
escaped through a closet to a rendezvous, and was caught with a young man
in a corridor. The Spanish Ambassador, coming out of his apartments with
flambeaux, was the person who witnessed this scene. Madame d'Estrades
affected to know nothing of her cousin's intrigues, and kept up an
appearance of the tenderest attachment to Madame de Pompadour, whom she
was habitually betraying. She acted as spy for M. d'Argenson, in the
cabinets, and in Madame de Pompadour's apartments; and, when she could
discover nothing, she had recourse to her invention, in order that she
might not lose her importance with her lover. This Madame d'Estrades
owed her whole existence to the bounties of Madame, and yet, ugly as she
was, she had tried to get the King away from her. One day, when he, had
got rather drunk at Choisy (I think, the only time that, ever happened to
him), he went on board a beautiful barge, whither Madame, being ill of an
indigestion, could not accompany him. Madame d'Estrades seized this
opportunity. She got into the barge, and, on their return, as it was
dark, she followed the King into a private closet, where he was believed
to be sleeping on a couch, and there went somewhat beyond any ordinary
advances to him. Her account of the matter to Madame was, that she had
gone into the closet upon her own affairs, and that the King, had
followed her, and had tried to ravish her. She was at full liberty to
make what story she pleased, for the King knew neither what he had said,
nor what he had done. I shall finish this subject by a short history
concerning a young lady. I had been, one day, to the theatre at
Compiegne. When I returned, Madame asked me several questions about the
play; whether there was much company, and whether I did not see a very
beautiful girl. I replied, "That there was, indeed, a girl in a box near
mine, who was surrounded by all the young men about the Court." She
smiled, and said, "That is Mademoiselle Dorothee; she went, this evening,
to see the King sup in public, and to-morrow she is to be taken to the
hunt. You are surprised to find me so well informed, but I know a great
deal more about her. She was brought here by a Gascon, named Dubarre or
Dubarri, who is the greatest scoundrel in France. He founds all his
hopes of advancement on Mademoiselle Dorothee's charms, which he thinks
the King cannot resist. She is, really, very beautiful.. She was
pointed out to me in my little garden, whither she was taken to walk on
purpose. She is the daughter of a water-carrier, at Strasbourg, and her
charming lover demands to be sent Minister to Cologne, as a
beginning."--"Is it possible, Madame, that you can have been rendered
uneasy by such a creature as that?"--"Nothing is impossible," replied
she; "though I think the King would scarcely dare to give such a scandal.
Besides, happily, Lebel, to quiet his conscience, told the King that the
beautiful Dorothee's lover is infected with a horrid disease;" and, added
he, "Your Majesty would not get rid of that as you have done of the
scrofula." This was quite enough to keep the young lady at a distance.
"I pity you sincerely, Madame," said I, "while everybody else envies
you." "Ah!" replied she, "my life is that of the Christian, a perpetual
warfare. This was not the case with the woman who enjoyed the favour of
Louis XIV. Madame de La Valliere suffered herself to be deceived by
Madame de Montespan, but it was her own fault, or, rather, the effect of
her extreme good nature. She was entirely devoid of suspicion at first,
because she could not believe her friend perfidious. Madame de
Montespan's empire was shaken by Madame de Fontanges, and overthrown by
Madame de Maintenon; but her haughtiness, her caprices, had already
alienated the King. He had not, however, such rivals as mine; it is
true, their baseness is my security. I have, in general, little to fear
but casual infidelities, and the chance that they may not all be
sufficiently transitory for my safety. The King likes variety, but he is
also bound by habit; he fears eclats, and detests manoeuvring women. The
little Marechale (de Mirepoig) one day said to me, 'It is your staircase
that the King loves; he is accustomed to go up and down it. But, if he
found another woman to whom he could talk of hunting and business as he
does to you, it would be just the same to him in three days.'"
I write without plan, order, or date, just as things come into my mind;
and I shall now go to the Abbe de Bernis, whom I liked very much, because
he was good-natured, and treated me kindly. One day, just as Madame de
Pompadour had finished dressing, M. de Noailles asked to speak to her in
private. I, accordingly, retired. The Count looked full of important
business. I heard their conversation, as there was only the door between
us.
"A circumstance has taken place," said he, "which I think it my duty to
communicate to the King; but I would not do so without first informing
you of it, since it concerns one of your friends for whom I have the
utmost regard and respect. The Abbe de Bernis had a mind to shoot, this
morning, and went, with two or three of his people, armed with guns, into
the little park, where the Dauphin would not venture to shoot without
asking the King's permission. The guards, surprised at hearing the
report of guns, ran to the spot, and were greatly astonished at the sight
of M. de Bernis. They very respectfully asked to see his permission,
when they found, to their astonishment, that he had none. They begged of
him to desist, telling him that, if they did their duty, they should
arrest him; but they must, at all events, instantly acquaint me with the
circumstance, as Ranger of the Park of Versailles. They added, that the
King must have heard the firing, and that they begged of him to retire.
The Abbe apologized, on the score of ignorance, and assured them that he
had my permission. 'The Comte de Noailles,' said they, 'could only grant
permission to shoot in the more remote parts, and in the great park.'"
The Count made a great merit of his eagerness to give the earliest
information to Madame. She told him to leave the task of communicating
it to the King to her, and begged of him to say nothing about the matter.
M. de Marigny, who did not like the Abbe, came to see me in the evening;
and I affected to know nothing of the story, and to hear it for the first
time from him. "He must have been out of his senses," said he, "to shoot
under the King's windows,"--and enlarged much on the airs he gave
himself. Madame de Pompadour gave this affair the best colouring she
could the King was, nevertheless, greatly disgusted at it, and twenty
times, since the Abbe's disgrace, when he passed over that part of the
park, he said, "This is where the Abbe took his pleasure." The King
never liked him; and Madame de Pompadour told me one night, after his
disgrace, when I was sitting up with her in her illness, that she saw,
before he had been Minister a week, that he was not fit for his office.
"If that hypocritical Bishop," said she, speaking of the Bishop of
Mirepoix, "had not prevented the King from granting him a pension of four
hundred louis a year, which he had promised me, he would never have been
appointed Ambassador. I should, afterwards, have been able to give him
an income of eight hundred louis a year, perhaps the place of master of
the chapel. Thus he would have been happier, and I should have had
nothing to regret." I took the liberty of saying that I did not agree
with her. That he had yet remaining advantages, of which he could not be
deprived; that his exile would terminate; and that he would then be a
Cardinal, with an income of eight thousand louis a year. "That is true,"
she replied; "but I think of the mortifications he has undergone, and of
the ambition which devours him; and, lastly, I think of myself. I should
have still enjoyed his society, and should have had, in my declining
years, an old and amiable friend, if he had not been Minister." The King
sent him away in anger, and was strongly inclined to refuse him the hat.
M. Quesnay told me, some months afterwards, that the Abbe wanted to be
Prime Minister; that he had drawn up a memorial, setting forth that in
difficult crises the public good required that there should be a central
point (that was his expression), towards which everything should be
directed. Madame de Pompadour would not present the memorial; he
insisted, though she said to him, "You will rain yourself." The King
cast his eyes over it, and said "'central point,'--that is to say
himself, he wants to be Prime Minister." Madame tried to apologize for
him, and said, "That expression might refer to the Marechal de
Belle-Isle."--"Is he not just about to be made Cardinal?" said the King.
"This is a fine manoeuvre; he knows well enough that, by means of that
dignity, he would compel the Ministers to assemble at his house, and then
M. l'Abbe would be the central point. Wherever there is a Cardinal in
the council, he is sure, in the end, to take the lead. Louis XIV., for
this reason, did not choose to admit the Cardinal de Janson into the
council, in spite of his great esteem for him. The Cardinal de Fleury
told me the same thing. He had some desire that the Cardinal de Tencin
should succeed him; but his sister was such an intrigante that Cardinal
de Fleury advised me to have nothing to do with the matter, and I behaved
so as to destroy all his hopes, and to undeceive others. M. d'Argenson
has strongly impressed me with the same opinion, and has succeeded in
destroying all my respect for him." This is what the King said,
according to my friend Quesnay, who, by the bye, was a great genius, as
everybody said, and a very lively, agreeable man. He liked to chat with
me about the country. I had been bred up there, and he used to set me a
talking about the meadows of Normandy and Poitou, the wealth of the
farmers, and the modes of culture. He was the best-natured man in the
world, and the farthest removed from petty intrigue. While he lived at
Court, he was much more occupied with the best manner of cultivating land
than with anything that passed around him. The man whom he esteemed the
most was M. de la Riviere, a Counsellor of Parliament, who was also
Intendant of Martinique; he looked upon him as a man of the greatest
genius, and thought him the only person fit for the financial department
of administration.