The duc d'Aiguillon--The duc de Fronsac--The duchesse de Grammont--The
meeting--Sharp words on both sides--The duc de Choiseul--Mesdames
d'Aiguillon--Letter from the duc d'Aiguillon--Reply of madame du
Barry--Mademoiselle Guimard--The prince de Soubise--Explanation--The
Rohans--Madame de Marsan--Court friendships
The duc de Richelieu, who was in haste to go to Guienne, lost no time in
presenting to me the duc d'Aiguillon. He was not young, but handsome and
well made, with much amiability and great courage. A sincere friend, no
consideration could weaken his regard; an adversary to be dreaded, no
obstacle could repress his boldness. His enemies--and amongst them
he included the whole magistracy--his enemies, I say, have used him
shamefully, but he treated them too ill for them to be believed in
any thing they say of him. If he were ambitious, he had the excuse of
superior merit, and if he showed himself too severe in one particular,
it proceeded from an energy of mind which did not allow him to have more
pity for others than they had for him. Do not, my friend, think that the
attachment I had for him can transport me beyond just limits. Since he
is in his grave, my illusions, if I had any, have dissipated. I only
give to my deceased friends the tribute due to them--truth and tears.
But really, without thinking of it, I am attributing to myself these
virtues without necessity, forgetting that you are not one of those who
would fain render me as black as possible in the eyes of posterity.
In proportion as the first sight of the uncle had prejudiced me against
him, so much more did it propitiate me towards the nephew. I saw in him
a generous heart, and a genius capable of lofty actions which you would
vainly have sought for in the maréchal de Richelieu. No doubt at the
beginning of our _liaison_ the duc d'Aiguillon only saw in me a woman
who could be useful to his projects and plans; but soon his heart joined
the alliance, and a devotion of calculation was succeeded by a vehement
passion, of which I was justly proud, as it subdued to my chains the
most accomplished of courtiers.
Our first interview was lively. The maréchal and he supported the
conversation with much gaiety. M. de Richelieu, as I have already told
you, had neither wit nor information, but possessed that ease of the
first circles, those manners of high breeding, those courtly graces,
which often surpass wit and information.
"My nephew," said he to the duke, "madame can do much for us, but we
must first do something for her. Without support, without friends, she
will be lost at Versailles; let us be her partisans if she will allow
it, and let her youth have the benefit of our experience."
The tone in which the duc d'Aiguillon replied delighted me. He said he
was but too happy to serve me, and begged me to rely on him as I would
on myself.
"But," he continued, "but we have to struggle with a powerful party. The
duchesse de Grammont and her brother are not the persons to give up the
field without striking a blow. But, madame, by the assistance of your
happy and lovely star, I will enter the lists with pleasure, and if a
glance of your eyes will recompense a conqueror, I shall be he."
"Oh," exclaimed the duke, "my nephew's a second Amadis in gallantry, and
of undaunted courage. You will be satisfied with him, madame, much more
than with my son, who only resembles the family in his defects."
The duc de Fronsac was justly hated by his father; he was what is called
a decided scamp, without one redeeming point or virtue. Dissipated
without agreeableness, a courtier without address, a soldier without
courage, he thoroughly deserved his bad reputation. He was not hated,
because hatred implies a species of honor, but he was universally
despised. His father hated him; he hated his father. The reciprocity was
edifying. I have often seen the duc de Fronsac, and always with disgust.
He had incurred the extremity of punishment; when trying to carry off a
butcher's daughter, he rendered himself guilty of the triple crimes of
arson, rape, and robbery. This was the most splendid deed of his life,
at least his father said so, the only one in which he had shown--guess
what for, my friend, I will not pen the cynical word made use of by his
father. It must be confessed that we sometimes kept very bad company at
Versailles. The king, who abhorred degrading actions, did not like
the duc de Fronsac, but was full of kindly feeling towards the duc
d'Aiguillon. The latter experienced the extent of his favor in his
long and obstinate struggle with the parliament of Bretagne. It must be
owned, that if he gained the victory at court, he decidedly lost it in
the city, and I was publicly insulted on this account in the most brutal
manner. However, the friendship which his first interview inspired me
with, I have always preserved unaltered.
The week glided away, and each day my fortune seemed more fully assured.
The love of the king increased, he heaped presents on me perpetually,
and seemed to think he never could do enough for me. The bounties of
Louis XV were known, and instantly aroused against me the two enemies
with whom I had been threatened--the duc de Choiseul and the duchesse de
Grammont, his sister. I must say, however, that, at first, the brother
contented himself with despising me, but the duchesse was furious; I had
offended her feminine self-love, and she could not forgive me. I have
told you that she obtained possession of the king by stratagem. This is
fact. She was in a place of concealment during a regal debauch, and when
Louis left the table, with his head heated by wine, she awaited him in
his bed to commit a sort of violence on him. What curious ambition! As
soon as this noble lady learned my position, she was desirous of knowing
who I was, and I have been told since all the measures she took to learn
this. She did not confine her search to the circle of Versailles, but
hastened to prosecute her inquiries in Paris with M. de Sartines. The
lieutenant of police not suspecting the favor that awaited me, as well
as that which I already enjoyed, and on the other hand persuaded of that
of the Choiseul family, set all his bloodhounds on my traces. They did
not fail to bring him back a thousand horrible tales about me, with
which he gratified the duchesse, who, thinking thereby to do me a severe
injury, spread in the château a multitude of prejudicial tales against
me, hoping that they would reach the ears of the king and disgust him
with his amour. It was at this juncture that appeared in the "_Nouvelles
a la Main_" those infamous articles, collected in what they call the
Collection of Bachaumont. From the same source proceeded the songs _à la
Bourbonnaise_ which filled Paris, and were sung about everywhere. These
scandals produced no other effect than increasing the attachment which
the king had for me, and to diminish that which he felt for the duc de
Choiseul.
Passion never reasons; if it had common sense, it would perceive that it
cannot disgust a lover by vilifying his mistress, but, on the contrary,
interests his self-love in supporting her. Thus all these intrigues
scathed me not; I did not mention to my counsellor comte Jean an insult
which I met with in the park at Versailles from madame de Grammont. I
did not tell it to the king, not wishing to create any disturbance
at court. I avenged myself by myself, and think I conducted myself
remarkably well in this adventure, which was as follows:
I was walking in the garden with Henriette, who had given me her arm;
it was early in the morning, and the walks appeared solitary. We walked
towards towards the side of the Ile d'Amour, when we heard the steps of
two persons who came behind us. Henriette turned her head and then said
to me, "Here are mesdames de Brionne and de Grammont." I knew the latter
but very slightly, and the former not at all. Certainly she could not
have been there by chance; they knew I should be there, and wished to
see me closely. Not suspecting what was to follow, I was delighted at
the rencontre. They passed us with head erect, haughty air; looked at
me with a disdainful stare, laughed rudely and walked away. Altho' such
behavior offended me, it did not put me out of humor; I thought it very
natural for madame de Grammont to be irritated against me. Henriette had
less magnanimity. She repeated so often how impertinent it was thus to
insult a female honored by the bounties of the king, and so far excited
my feelings, that instead of returning as prudence suggested, I followed
the steps of these ladies. I did not proceed far before I rejoined
them; they were seated on a bench, awaiting my arrival as it appeared.
I passed close to them, and at that moment the duchesse de Grammont,
raising her voice, said,
"It must be a profitable business to sleep with every body."
I was excessively nettled, and instantly retorted, "At least I cannot
be accused of making a forcible entry into any person's bed." The arrow
went to the mark and penetrated deeply. The whole countenance of the
duchesse turned pale, except her lips, which became blue. She would have
said something foolish, but madame de Brionne, more cool because touched
less nearly, placed her hand over her companion's mouth. I in my turn
walked away with Henriette, laughing till tears came into my eyes at
this pleasing victory.
The duchesse de Grammont, who had no further inclination to laugh, told
the whole to her brother. He, who loved her excessively, too much so
perhaps, reprimanded her, nevertheless, and pointed out to her the
disadvantage in an open struggle with me. Madame de Brionne was enjoined
to secrecy, but that did not prevent her from confiding the affair to
the dowager duchesse d'Aiguillon.
This latter was a lady of most superior merit, uniting to much wit more
solid acquirements. She spoke English like a native. Her death, which
happened in 1772, was a great misfortune to her son, to whom she
gave the most excellent counsel. She told my adventure to her
daughter-in-law, who, excessively ambitious, saw, without any pain,
the increasing attachment of her husband for me. I must tell you, in a
parenthesis, that I always lived on the best terms with her, and that,
in my disgrace, her friendship did not weaken. I must do her this
justice. All my _faithful friends_ have not been equally faithful
towards me.
These two ladies knowing this occurrence, the duc d'Aiguillon was not
long kept in ignorance that something had happened. He came in haste to
see me, and inquired what it was. But he asked in vain, I would not tell
him. My secrecy hurt him, and on his return home he wrote to me. As
I have great pleasure in telling you all that recalls this amiable
gentleman to my mind, I will transcribe his letter, which will give you
an opportunity of judging of the turn of his mind.
"I am very unhappy, madame. I had flattered myself with having obtained
your confidence, but the obstinate silence which you have kept with
me has cruelly informed me of my mistake. Allow the deep interest with
which you have inspired me to offer a suggestion. You know nothing of
forms, you are unacquainted with our usages: you require a friend who
shall direct and counsel you. Why should you not select a man entirely
devoted to you, and as equally so to the king, the king whose affections
you possess--and who could refuse them to you? I pause. Nothing is more
dangerous than to use a pen where we have a heart overflowing like mine.
Be more gracious towards me, I ask it of you in charity, and take no
pleasure in driving me to twofold desperation. Adieu, madame, etc.
"Signed, the Duc D'A."
I read and read again this epistle: it delighted me from beginning to
end. I found in it a depth of passion which did not displease me: I
perfectly comprehended the obscurity of the latter phrase. I needed
a sort of mentor superior to comte Jean, and I preferred the duc
d'Aiguillon to any other, because he pleased me. This feeling decided
me, and I replied to him in these terms:--
"You are wrong, monsieur, to be annoyed, and to think that I am not
disposed to grant you my confidence. It seems to me that I cannot place
myself in better hands. However, we do not know each other well enough
for me to repose in you at once: see me frequently, and then, with the
habit of being in your company, I will allow myself to glide quietly
into that state of confidence which you desire. Yes, I am indeed a
stranger to all that passes around me; my only support is the protection
with which the king honors me. That is all-powerful, but I will not
employ it unseasonably or improperly. I know that I need the counsels
of an honorable, prudent, and well-informed man. I accept, therefore, of
yours; I even ask them from you, if your friendship go along with them.
Adieu, monsieur. My regards are due to your uncle, the maréchal, the
first time you write to him."
This letter filled the duc d'Aiguillon with joy. Some days afterwards,
the prince de Soubise, who also wished to give me his advice, did not
attain the same success. It must be owned, that, for a man of the world,
he went about it in a very clumsy way. He committed the extreme error of
selecting mademoiselle Guimard as mediatrix between himself and me. This
lady came to me on the strength of our former acquaintance; she had so
little sense as not to perceive the immense distance between us which
a few days had caused, and that the opera-dancer kept by the prince de
Soubise could have no relation with the favorite of the king of France.
I endeavored, in vain, to make her perceive it, without mortifying her
too much. She always called me her dear friend, and fairly slaughtered
me with saying that _her_ prince would protect me. It was singular
for her to speak thus to me; to me from whom _her_ prince solicited
protection. She did not confine herself to this, she even insinuated to
me that I should be a gainer in some way. I laughed outright at this,
and said to the _valet de chambre_, who was stationed at the door, "Call
mademoiselle's servants." This annoyed her excessively; all the muscles
of her face were contracted with rage; but she restrained her wrath,
saluted me with an assumed respect, and went away, after having so
worthily acquitted herself of her foolish embassy.
She had quitted me for an hour, when I received a letter from him who
had sent her. The prince de Soubise begged me to grant him an interview,
in which he could enter into an explanation. I replied that I would
receive him, and he came the same day.
"I am much pained, madame," said he, on entering, "that mademoiselle
Guimard has communicated with so little address what I wished to say to
you."
"Prince, I think you would have done better to have been the bearer of
your own message. You know my station here, and would not have ridiculed
me as she has done."
M. de Soubise, much puzzled to know what she had said, asked me the
question.
"Why," I replied, "she said, that if I would follow your counsels, you
would pay me for my condescension."
"Ah! madame," he exclaimed, "she has completely murdered me. I only
charged her to offer my services to you, and throw myself at your feet,
as I do now."
"Rise, prince, I do not accuse you of such folly, and promise not to
mention it: it is necessary, however, that you should know I have but
one part to play here, that of pleasing the king. Any other character
will not suit me. Honor me with your friendship, and accept mine in
return. I cannot, must not, have any other union with you."
Thus terminated this interview; it did not suit me to give the prince
de Soubise any hopes. He and all the Rohans would have lived on it; they
would have turned my confidence to their gain, and as they were for the
most part sharpers, or something akin to it, my name would soon have
been mixed up with some dirty transaction. His family was a hydra of
avarice, and would alone have swallowed up all the wealth of France. If
the king had taken one of the Rohan family for his mistress, I believe
that the finance department would not have sufficed for one year's
expenditure of this prodigal family. I had no objection to the prince de
Soubise coming to supper with me, but I did not feel myself disposed to
give him any control over my mind. I should have been ill-guided by a
man who had no government of himself.
If M, de Soubise did not depart satisfied, madame de Marsan, his
relative, to whom he related the bad success of his attempt, was not
more so. She was a woman to have governed a kingdom, had she been
allowed to do so. There was in her woman's head a capacity superior to
that of all the men of her family. She had a great deal of ambition, and
all her actions were the results of a premeditated plan. She would have
ruled the king, the princes, the princesses, favorites, mistresses, the
court, the city, the parliaments, and the army! Nothing would have been
impossible to her; she was adequate to any thing. Circumstances did not
give her the opportunity of displaying her genius. With great talents
and keen perception, she was reduced to the government of her own family
alone; that was but a trifling matter! In spite of her discontent,
madame de Marsan preserved a sort of neutrality towards me. She allowed
all sorts of ill to be spoken of me without ever repressing a word.
She was then mute and motionless. She saw me torn to pieces without
any emotion. However, when we were together she tried to cajole me in a
thousand ways, all the time detesting me in her heart; and I, who could
scarcely endure the sight of her, paid her a like number of little
attentions. Thus surrounded by hypocrites, I became one myself. We learn
to howl in the society of wolves.