The duc de la Vauguyon and the comtesse du Barry--The marquis de
Chauvelin and the comtesse--M. de Montbarrey and the comtesse--
Intrigues--Lebel--Arrival of the du Barry family--The comte
d'Hargicourt--The demoiselles du Barry--Marriage of the comtesse--The
marquis de Bonrepos--Correspondences--The broken glass
The prince de Soubise was not the only person who wished to act in the
capacity of mentor to me. M. the duc de la Vauguyon attempted also to
be the guide of my youth. This nobleman was too much of a Jesuit not to
have a nose of prodigiously fine scent. He perceived that the wind was
in my favor, and approached me in consequence. I have mentioned to
you his first visit, and he made me a second a few days afterwards.
He appeared very affable, very conciliating, and insisted particularly
several times, and that without any apparent motive, that the king,
not being now engaged in the ties of wedlock, he should choose some
agreeable companion, and assuredly could not do better than select
me. The day after this visit, early in the morning, the duke sent me a
splendid bouquet, a homage which he afterwards repeated, and then called
on me a third time.
During this visit after a conversation on the embarrassments of an
introduction at Versailles, he proposed that I should avoid them.
"You cannot conceal from yourself," he said, "how powerful will be the
cabal against you; and, without including the Choiseuls, you will have
especially to fear the pious party, who will only see in your intimacy
with the king, allow me to say, a crying scandal, and one not profitable
for religion."
"If the pious party unite with those who are not so to destroy me," I
rejoined, laughing, "I shall have all France against me."
"No; but perhaps all the château. But there is a way of averting the
storm. Attach yourself to the party of honest men who have been so
greatly calumniated--the Jesuits. Philosophy, supported by the duc de
Choiseul, has repressed them; but the high clergy and the _mesdames
royales_ are attached strongly to them, and you would interest them in
your fortune by favoring these worthy fathers."
"What! monsieur le duc," cried I, "will _messeigneurs_ the clergy of
France, and _mesdames royales_ and their suite be favorable to me, if I
use my influence with the king in espousing the cause of the society of
Jesus?"
"Certainly, madame, and I am authorized to promise you. I give you my
word for this. Endeavor to re-establish the order, and there will not be
one of us but will be zealous in supporting you."
"I certainly am desirous of pleasing your friends; but I can see that,
from the first moment of my appearance at court, I shall be at open war
with the Choiseuls and the parliaments."
"What matters it? I confess that the victory will not be easy at first,
but there is no need to exaggerate the difficulties. It is true that the
king has esteem for the duc de Choiseul, but he has much affection for
you, which avails much more.
"As for the parliaments, he hates them, and for many years has been
desirous of ridding himself of them entirely, and he will effect this by
the help of God and your interference."
"This will be hard work for one so weak as I am."
"Oh, you are sufficiently powerful, I assure you. Only confide in me,
the intermediary between you and my friends, let me guide you, and I
will steer to the right port. What do you think of this, madame?"
"Oh! monsieur le duc, it is not at a moment that we can give a positive
reply to such grave matters. I content myself in assuring you, that I
have for you as much confidence as respect, and should be very happy to
obtain your protection."
"My protection! Oh, heaven, madame, you are jesting. It is I who should
be honored by your friendship."
"It is yours; but as yet I am nothing at court, and can do nothing there
until I have been presented. It is for my speedy presentation that my
friends should labor now."
"We will not fail, madame; and if you will allow me to come from time to
time to converse with you, we can take our measures."
"Your visits will always be agreeable."
Such was the conversation which I had with the duc de la Vauguyon. I
have given it somewhat at length, because it was the preface to a deep
intrigue which made a vast noise. I think I extricated myself very
well from the net in which the duke sought to catch me. I knew that his
situation at Versailles compelled me to act with caution towards him. He
was in good odor with _mesdames_, had the ear of the young dauphin and
the princes his brothers. He deceived me like a true Jesuit as he was,
in telling me that the _mesdames_ were well disposed towards me; and on
my side I cheated him with a promise of confidence and, friendship which
I never bestowed. Ah! my friend, again and again must I exclaim, what a
villainous place is a court!
Whilst the duc de la Vauguyon was seeking to enlist me under the banners
of heaven or the Jesuits, the marquis of Chauvelin also essayed to make
me his pupil; but as frank as he was amiable, this nobleman did not go
to work in a roundabout manner. He came to me loyally, requesting me to
consider his interests and mine.
"The king likes me," said he, "and I am attached to him body and soul.
He tenderly loves you, and I should have no difficulty in doing the same
thing; but as I am no longer of an age to inspire you with the passion
which I should feel towards you, I content myself with your friendship.
I have no enemy here, and no wish to hurt any person. Thus you need not
fear that I shall urge you to any measures that might compromise you. It
is the hatred of the kingdom that you will have to fear. France is about
to march in a better track, and the best plan is to follow its lead.
It pains me, madame, to use language which may appear severe to you; we
ought only to talk to you of your beauty and the love which it inspires.
But in your situation, even that beauty may serve the interests of
France, and it is for that motive that I come to solicit you."
I replied to M. de Chauvelin with equal frankness. I told him that my
sole intentions were to confine myself to the circle of my duties; that
I had none but to please the king, and no intention of mixing myself
up with state affairs. This was my plan I can assure you. I flattered
myself that I could follow it, not dreaming of those political nuisances
into which I was precipitated in spite of myself. I added, nevertheless,
that in my situation, which was delicate, I would not refuse the
counsels of a faithful servant of the king, and that under this title M.
de Chauvelin should be consulted on important occasions.
The marquis de Chauvelin had too much good sense, too much knowledge of
the world, not to perceive a refusal concealed under this politeness.
The secret inclination of my heart had already led me to select the duc
d'Aiguillon for my director, and I could not reconcile myself to any
other. He contented himself with asking me again for my friendship,
which I willingly accorded him, and I have always found myself fortunate
in his. Thus did I accept the offers of service from the prince de
Soubise, the duc de la Vauguyon, and the marquis de Chauvelin.
A fourth sought to swell the ranks; the comte, afterwards prince, de
Montbarrey. This gentleman made up in pretensions for what he lacked
in talent. He was weak, self-important, selfish, fond of women, and
endeavored to preserve all the airs of a man of good breeding in the
midst of the grossest debauchery. He was full of respect for himself and
his house, of which in time of need he could cite the whole genealogy.
His nomination was a real scandal; no one dreamt of his ever being
minister of war. It was one of the thousand follies of old Maurepas,
whom the late king knew well, and called the ballad-maker of the
council.
The comte de Montbarrey, whom I had known at Paris, came to me one fine
day, fully powdered, performed, and apparelled. He had a smile on
his lip, a loud tone, and an insolent look. He came not to ask
my friendship, but my obedience. He told me that he loved me to
distraction, and of course my head must be equally towards him. He
amused me. I let him run out the full length of his line; and when he
had spun it all out, I said to him, "Monsieur, be so good as to call me
to the recollection of madame de Merfort."
She was one of the gambling ladies, and at her house I had formerly met
the chevalier de Montbarrey. My reply confounded him: he saw that he had
gone the wrong way to work with me; and, raising the siege, he left me
excessively embarrassed.
Figure to yourself, my friend, what confidence a man, lost in the
crowd of lower courtiers, could inspire me with; for to judge of the
proceedings of the comte de Montbarrey, it would have been necessary
to have seen him as he then was, and not what he became since the
imbecility of M. de Maurepas. When I told comte Jean of his visit, he
would not believe such insolence. You must know that my brother-in-law
also wished to direct me, but I did not consider him sufficiently
clever. His marvellous genius was eclipsed in politics. He swore at my
ingratitude, and I could only appease him by an offering of plenty of
money.
In the midst of this cross-fire of intrigues, one was devised against me
which might have terminated in my ruin; but, thanks to the indefatigable
activity of comte Jean, only served to fix me more firmly in my
situation. Lebel, of whom I have said nothing for this age, came to me
one day: his face was sad, and his look serious. By his manner I augured
that my reign had passed, and that I must quit my post. I awaited what
he should say with mortal impatience. At length he began thus:
"Madame, you have many bitter enemies, who are laboring to effect your
ruin with a blood-thirstiness which nothing can assuage. They have now
spread a report that you are not married. This infamous calumny--"
"Ah, is that all?" said I with joy; "no, my dear Lebel, this time they
do not calumniate me. The worthy creatures for once are right."
"What," said Lebel, in a tone of alarm almost comic, "what, are you
really not married?"
"No."
"Are you not the wife of the comte Guillaume du Barry?"
"No."
"Then you have deceived the king, and played with me."
"Lebel, my friend, take another tone. No one has any right to complain.
You have given me to the king as a person to please him; I do so. The
rest can be no matter of yours."
"Pardon me, madame; it is a matter of the greatest consequence to me. I
am terribly compromised in this affair, and you with me."
Lebel told me that the duchesse de Grammont had begged him to call upon
her, and had bitterly reproached him about the mistress he had procured
for the king; the duchesse affirmed that I was a nameless and unmarried
creature; and added, that it was his duty to make the king acquainted
with these particulars, unless I, the pretended wife of du Barry, would
consent to go to England when a large pension should be assured to me.
"No, my dear Lebel, I will not go to England; I will remain in France,
at Versailles, at the château. If I am not married I will be; the thing
is easily managed."
Lebel, somewhat assured, begged me to send for comte Jean, and when he
came he (Lebel) recommenced his tale of grief.
"You are drowning yourself in a glass of water," said my future
brother-in-law to him, beginning to treat him with less ceremony; "go
back to the duchesse de Grammont, and tell her that madame was married
at Toulouse. She will have an inquiry set on foot; in the mean while my
brother will arrive, and the marriage will take place. Then we will show
the rebels a real comtesse du Barry; and whether my sister-in-law be
a lady of six months' standing or only of yesterday, that is of no
consequence to the king of France."
After this conversation Lebel delivered the message to the duchesse
de Grammont, who told him that she should write to Toulouse to the
attorney-general. This was what the comte Jean wished and he was
prepared for her.
But, you will say to me, was it certain that your asserted husband would
marry you? Were there no difficulties to fear? None. Comte Guillaume was
poor, talented, and ambitious; he liked high living, and would have sold
himself to the devil for riches. He was happy in marrying me. Comte Jean
would not have ventured such a proposal to his other brother, the comte
d'Hargicourt, who had much good sense and great notions of propriety,
and who at Versailles was called the _honnéte homme_; a distinction not
over flattering to his two brothers.
The same evening the whole family arrived, and was presented to me the
next day. My two future sisters-in-law frightened me at first with their
provincial manners and southern accent; but, after a few minutes,
I found that this Gascon pronunciation had many charms with it.
Mesdemoiselles du Barry were not handsome but very agreeable. One was
called Isabelle, whom they had nicknamed _Bischi_, the other's name was
Fanchon, and her name had been abbreviated to "_Chon_." The latter had
much talent, and even brought to Versailles with her, an instinctive
spirit of diplomacy which would have done honor to a practised courtier.
She would have been thought simple, unsophisticated, and yet was full of
plot and cunning.
I was soon much pleased with her, and the king became equally so. He was
always very much amused at hearing her talk _patois_ (provincially), or
recite the verses of one Gondouli, a poet of Languedoc. He used to make
her jump upon his knees; and altho' she had passed the first bloom
of youth, he played with her like a child. But what most particularly
diverted the king, was calling my sister-in-law by her nickname;
"_Petite Chon, grande Chon_," he was always saying, "do this, go there,
come here." Louis XV did the same with his own daughters: he had amongst
them a _Loque_, a _Graille_, a _Chiffe_, and they were the ladies
Victoire, Adélaïde, and Sophie, whom he thus elegantly designated. I so
soon saw the taste of the king for nicknames that I gave him one, it
was Lafrance. So far from being angry with me, he laughed to tears
every time that I called him so. I must confess, _en passant_, that
the anecdote about the coffee is true.* I will only justify myself by
saying, that if I expressed myself coarsely it was not in consequence
of my vulgar education, but because the king liked such modes of
expression.
*Louis XV had a habit of making his own coffee after
dinner. One day the coffee boiled over the sides of the
pot, and madame du Barry cried out, "Eh, Lafrance,
ton cafe f---- le camp." (author)
Let me revert to my marriage, which was performed secretly at the parish
of Saint Laurent. I believe the king knew of it, altho' he never alluded
to it any more than myself. Thus the malice of my enemies was completely
balked in this affair. Some days afterwards comte Jean received a letter
from the attorney-general of the parliament of Toulouse, M. the marquis
de Bonrepos-Riquet. This gentleman informed my brother-in-law that he
had been applied to, to institute an inquiry at all the notaries, and
amongst all the registers of the parishes for the proof of my marriage;
that he warned us to be on our guard, and that whatever diligence he
might be desired to employ, he should do nothing without informing us.
We felt the obligation of this proceeding, and my brother-in-law thanked
the attorney-general in my name as well as in his own. He told him that
it was not at Toulouse that the parties interested should make their
researches for my marriage certificate, but at Paris, either at the
parish church of Saint Laurent, or at the notary's, Lepot d'Auteuil. M.
de Bonrepos gave part of this reply to the duchesse de Grammont. Great
was the bustle amongst the Choiseuls! I leave you to judge of the
fury of the lady or ladies, for the contesse de Grammont was no less
irritated than the other, always prepossessed with the idea, that to
please the king was to wrong their family. The comtesse de Grammont had
not half the talent of the duchesse, she had only her faults. She
showed herself so rude and impertinent towards me, that I was at length
compelled, not to exile her of my own accord, but to allow that she
should be so served. But I anticipate, for this did not occur until the
following year.
The king by all his kindnesses endeavored to recompense me for these
attacks: he appeared charmed to see me surrounded by my husband's
family. He placed amongst the pages the vicomte Adolphe du Barry, son of
comte Jean, a young man of great promise, but whose destiny was so brief
and so unfortunate. My husband's family testified much affection for
me, as did the duc d'Aiguillon, to whom I daily attached myself. He
carefully kept from me all that could give me pain, and took a thousand
precautions that no unpleasant reports should reach me. If we passed a
short time without meeting he wrote to me, and I confess I was delighted
with a correspondence which formed my own style. Mademoiselle Chon, my
sister-in-law, and I also wrote to each other, and that from one room to
another. I remember that one day, having broken a glass of rock crystal
which she had given me, I announced my misfortune in such solemn style,
and with so well feigned a tone of chagrin, that the letter amused the
whole family. The king saw it, and was so much pleased that he kept it,
and next day sent me a golden goblet enriched with stones, which I gave
to Chon, to whom it rightfully belonged.