The king of Denmark--The courtesans of Paris--The duc de Choiseul and
the bishop of Orleans--Witty repartees of the king of Denmark--His visit
to madame du Barry--"The court of king Petaud," a satire--Letter of
the duc d'Aiguillon to Voltaire--The duchesse de Grammont
mystified--Unpublished letter of Voltaire's
From this moment, and in spite of all that comte Jean could say
against it, a new counsellor was admitted to my confidence. He was the
chancellor. The duc d'Aiguillon and he were on very good terms, and
these two, with the abbé Teray, of whom I shall speak to you presently,
formed a triumvirate, which governed France from the disgrace of M. de
Choiseul to the death of the king. But before I enter upon a detail
of those politics, of which you will find that I understand something,
allow me to continue the history of my presentation, and also to give
some account of Christian VII.
You know that his Danish majesty was expected with anything but pleasure
by the king of France, and with curiosity by the rest of the nation. Men
and women were impatient to see a king, under twenty years of age, who
was traversing Europe with a design of attaining instruction. Married
to a lovely woman, Caroline Mathilde, he had left her on the instant,
without suspecting that this separation would prove fatal to both. At
Paris, the real character of this prince was not known, but a confused
report of his gallantry was spread abroad, on which all the courtesans
of note in the city began to try all arts to please him, each hoping
to attract him to herself, and dip into his strong box. M. de Sartines
amused us one evening, the king and myself, by telling us of the plans
of these ladies. Some were going to meet his Danish majesty, others
were to await him at the barrier, and two of the most renowned,
mesdemoiselles Gradi and Laprairie, had their portraits painted, to send
to the young monarch as soon as he should arrive.
Christian VII entered Paris the latter end of the month of October,
1768. MM. de Duras complimented him in the king's name, and informed him
that they were charged with the office of receiving his commands during
his residence in Paris. The interview of the king and the illustrious
stranger took place at Versailles. Christian VII came thither in the
state-carriage, and was conducted by the duc de Duras into the apartment
of the dauphin, where he remained until Louis XV was prepared to receive
him. I had heard much discussion about this reception. It was said, that
to make a distinction between sovereign of a petty state and that of the
superb kingdom of France, it was requisite that the former should await
for some time the audience which the latter accorded. I am sure that
when the peace with Frederick was agitated, the face of Louis XV was not
more grave and serious than during this puerile debate about etiquette.
The duc de Choiseul, who had the control of foreign affairs, was in the
apartment to receive his Danish majesty, with his colleagues, the duc
de Praslin, the comte de Saint-Florentin (whom I have called by
anticipation duc de la Vrillière), M. Bertin, M. Mainon d'Invau,
controller of the finances, and M. de Jarente, bishop of Orleans and
one of the ministry. He kept himself somewhat in the background, as
tho' from humility. The duc de Choiseul came up to him, and said, with a
smile,
"Monseigneur, what brings you in contact with a heretic?"
"To watch for the moment of penitence."
"But what will you do if it become necessary to teach him his _credo_?"
M. de Jarente understood the joke, and was the first to jest upon his
own unepiscopal conduct, replying to the duc de Choiseul,
"There is a person present who knows it; he will whisper it to me, and,
if necessary, the _Veni Creator_ also."
The king of Denmark was congratulated by the duc de Choiseul,
who discharged this duty with as much grace as wit. Afterwards M.
Desgranges, master of the ceremonies, having announced that Louis XV was
visible, the king of Denmark, preceded by his gentlemen and the French
ministers and lords, went to the king's cabinet, in which two arm-chairs
precisely alike were prepared, but his majesty of Denmark positively
refused to be seated. He entered into conversation, and felicitated
himself on seeing a monarch, whose renown filled Europe, and whom
he should take as his model. During this conversation Christian VII
displayed the greatest amiability. Our king, speaking to him, said, "I
am old enough to be your father"; to which he replied, "All my conduct
towards you shall be that of a son." This was thought admirable; and
at the termination of the interview Louis XV appeared charmed with his
brother of Denmark. "He is a complete Frenchman," said he to me, "and I
should be sorry if he left me dissatisfied."
That same evening Christian VII visited monseigneur the dauphin, in whom
he did not find the urbanity of his grandfather. The conversation was
short and abridged out of regard to our prince, who only stammered,
without being able to find one polished phrase. Never was there in his
youth a more timid and awkwardly conducted prince than the present king.
I shall mention him and his brothers hereafter, but will now direct my
immediate attention to the king of Denmark. He supped the same evening
with Louis XV at a table with four and twenty ladies of the court,
selected from amongst those most celebrated for the charms of their
persons or their wit. As his Danish majesty was greatly struck with
madame de Flaracourt, the king asked him how old the lady might be in
his opinion.
"Thirty, perhaps," was the reply.
"Thirty, brother! she is fifty."
"Then age has no influence at your court." I shall not copy the
"_Gazette de France_" to tell you of the sojourn of Christian VII at
Paris. I am not writing the journal of this prince but of myself. The
king one day said to me,
"My brother of Denmark has expressed to the duc de Duras a great desire
to pay his respects to you, if you will accede to his wishes. I leave
you entirely sovereign mistress of yourself, not without some fear
however that the young king will steal away your heart from me."
"Ah, sire," I replied, "that is an unjust suspicion; I should be angry
about it if it were not a joke, and would refuse to see the king of
Denmark did I not know how fully you are assured of my attachment to
you."
"I should not be so jealous, madame, if I did not set so much value on
it," was the reply of the king, as he kissed my hand.
The duc de Duras came the next day to inform me of the request of his
new king. It was agreed, in order to keep the interview secret, that
I should receive him at my own mansion in the Rue de la Jussienne,
and that he should come there without suite, and with the strictest
incognito. At the day and hour agreed he entered my house, escorting two
strangers of admirable presence. One was the king of Denmark, under
the name of comte de ------, and the other a nobleman of his suite.
Christian VII appeared to me a very handsome man. He had large and
singularly expressive eyes; too much so, perhaps, for their brilliancy
was not of good augury; and I was not surprised at hearing subsequently
that his reason had abandoned him, altho' he possessed and exerted his
wit most perfectly during our conversation, in which he displayed the
greatest gallantry. I could not reproach him with one single expression
that was objectionable, altho' the subject of conversation was delicate.
He discoursed of the feelings of the king towards me, and yet said not a
word that was unsuited or out of place, nothing but what was in the best
taste, and expressed with the utmost delicacy. I asked him if the ladies
of Denmark were handsome. "I thought, madame," was his reply, "until
now, that the ladies of my kingdom were the most lovely in Europe."
We did not talk of myself only: Christian VII spoke of Paris with
enthusiasm. "It is the capital of the world," he remarked, "and our
states are but the provinces." He sought out our most celebrated
_savants_ and _literati_, and was particularly delighted with
d'Alembert, Diderot, la Harpe, and M. the comte de Buffon. He greatly
regretted that Voltaire was not in Paris, and expressed his great desire
to see at Ferney the great genius (as he termed him) who instructed and
amused the world. He appeared weary of the fêtes which were given,
and especially with the deadly-lively company of the two Duras. It was
enough to kill you to have only one of them, and you may imagine the
torture of being bored with both. The duke had promised Louis XV to be
as amusing as possible too! After a conversation of three hours, which
his majesty (of course) said had appeared but of a moment, he left me
delighted with his person, wit, and manners.
When Louis XV saw me, he inquired my opinion of his Danish majesty.
"He is," I replied, "a well-educated king, and that they say is a
rarity."
"True," said Louis XV, "there are so many persons who are interested in
our ignorance, that it is a miracle if we escape out of their hands as
reasonable beings."
I went on to tell the king our conversation.
"Ah," cried he, "here is one who will increase the vanity of the
literary tribe: they want it, certainly. All these wits are our natural
born enemies; and think themselves above us; and the more we honor them,
the greater right do they assume to censure and despise us."
This was the usual burden of his song: he hated men of learning.
Voltaire especially was his detestation, on account of the numerous
epigrams which this great man had written against him; and Voltaire
had just given fresh subject of offence by publishing "_La Cour du Roi
Petaud_" ("The Court of the King Petaud,") a satire evidently directed
as strongly against the king as your humble servant. M. de Voltaire had
doubtless been encouraged to write this libel by the Choiseul party.
He was at a distance, judged unfavorably of me, and thought he could
scourge me without compromising himself.
It was comte Jean who brought me these verses, in which there was less
poetry than malevolence. I read them, was indignant, and wept. The duc
d'Aiguillon came, and finding me in tears, inquired the cause.
"Here," said I, giving him the poem, "see if you can bear so gross an
insult." He took the paper, cast his eyes over it, and having folded it
up, put it into his pocket.
"It was ill done," said he, "to show this to you. I knew of it
yesterday, and came now to talk with you of it."
"I rely on you to do me justice."
"_Miséricorde!_" cried the duke, "would you lose yourself in the eyes
of all France? You would place yourself in a fine situation by declaring
yourself the persecutrix of Voltaire. Only an enemy could have thus
advised you."
"That enemy was comte Jean."
"Then your imprudence equals your zeal. Do you not perceive the
advantage it would give to your adversaries were we to act in this
manner? To the hatred of the court would be united that of the
_literati_, women, and young persons. Voltaire is a god, who is not to
be smitten without sacrilege."
"Must I then tamely submit to be beaten?"
"Yes, for the moment. But it will not last long; I have just written
this letter to M. de Voltaire, that peace may be made between you:--
"SIR,--The superiority of your genius places you amongst the number of
the potentates of Europe. Every one desires, not only to be at peace
with you, but even, if it be possible, to obtain your esteem. I flatter
myself with being included in the ranks of your admirers; my uncle has
spoken to you many times of my attachment to your person, and I embrace
the opportunity of proving this by a means that now presents itself.
"Persons in whom you place too much confidence have spread abroad, under
your name, copies of a poem, entitled '_La Cour du Roi Petaud._' In
this, wherein insult is cast on a personage who should be exempt from
such offence, is also outraged, in a most indecent way, a lovely female,
whom you would adore as we do, if you had the happiness to know her. Is
it for the poet of the lover of Gabrielle to carry desolation into the
kingdom of the Graces?
"Your correspondents use you ill by leaving you in ignorance, that this
young person has immense favor here; that we are all at her feet; that
she is all powerful, and her anger is to be particularly avoided. She
is the more to be propitiated, as yesterday, in Presence of a certain
person whom your verses had greatly irritated, she took up your defence
with as much grace as generosity. You see, sir, that you ought not to be
on bad terms with her.
"My uncle allows me to see, as one of the initiated, what you call your
scraps, which are delicious feasts to us. I read them to the lady in
question, who takes great delight in reciting, or hearing others recite,
your verses, and she begs you will send her some as a proof of your
repentance. Under these circumstances, if your bellicose disposition
urges you on to war, we hope, before you continue it, that you will
loyally and frankly declare it.
"In conclusion, be assured that I shall defend you to my utmost, and am
for life,
"Yours, etc."
Whilst we were awaiting Voltaire's reply, I determined to avenge myself
on the duchesse de Grammont, who had encouraged him in his attack; and
thus did I serve this lady. Persuaded that she did not know the writing
of his Danish majesty, I wrote the following letter to her:--
"MADAME LA DUCHESSE,--I have struggled to this time to avoid confessing
to you how I am subdued. Happy should I be could I throw myself at your
feet. My rank alone must excuse my boldness. Nothing would equal my
joy if this evening, at the theatre at madame de Villeroi's, you would
appear with blue feathers in your head-dress. I do not add my name; it
is one of those which should not be found at the bottom of a declaration
of love."
In spite of all her penetration, the duchesse de Grammont did not
perceive, in the emphatic tone of this letter, that it was a trick.
Her self-love made her believe that a woman of more than forty could be
pleasing to a king not yet twenty. She actually went in the evening to
madame de Villeroi's dressed in blue, with a blue plumed head-dress. She
was placed next to his Danish majesty. Christian VII addressed her in
most courteous terms, but not one word of love.
The duchesse imagining that the prince was timid, looked at him with
eyes of tenderness, and endeavored to attract and encourage him by all
means she could devise, but the monarch did not understand her. The
duchesse then addressed a few words, which she hoped would lead to
an explanation, but, to her dismay, his majesty did not appear to
understand her. Madame de Grammont was furious at this affair. The duc
d'Aiguillon, who was close to her, had seen all, heard all, and related
particulars to me. The same day I told the king of my trick and
its success. He laughed excessively, and then scolded me for at all
compromising his Danish majesty.
"How, sire?" was my reply. "I did not sign his name; I have not forged
his signature. The vanity of the duchesse has alone caused all the
ridiculous portion of this joke. So much the worse for her if she did
not succeed."
I did not, however, limit my revenge to this. A second letter, in
the same hand, was addressed to my luckless enemy. This time she was
informed that she been made a butt of, and mystified. I learned from M.
de Sartines, who, after our compact, gave me details of all, the methods
she had pursued to detect the author of these two epistles, and put
a termination to all these inquiries, by denouncing myself to M. de
Sartines; who then gave such a turn to the whole matter, that the
duchesse could never arrive at the truth.
Voltaire, in the meantime, was not slow in reply; and as I imagine that
you will not be sorry to read his letter, I transcribe it for you:--
"MONSIEUR LE DUC,--I am a lost, destroyed man. If I had strength enough
to fly, I do not know where I should find courage to take refuge. I!
Good God! I am suspected of having attacked that which, in common with
all France, I respect! When there only remains to me the smallest power
of utterance, but enough to chant a _De profundis,_ that I should employ
it in howling at the most lovely and amiable of females! Believe me,
monsieur le duc, that it is not at the moment when a man is about to
render up his soul, that a man of my good feeling would outrage the
divinity whom he adores. No, I am not the author of the '_Cour du Roi
Petaud._' The verses of this rhapsody are not worth much, it is true;
but indeed they are not mine: they are too miserable, and of too bad a
style. All this vile trash spread abroad in my name, all those pamphlets
without talent, make me lose my senses, and now I have scarcely enough
left to defend myself with. It is on you, monsieur le duc, that I rely;
do not refuse to be the advocate of an unfortunate man unjustly accused.
Condescend to say to this young lady, that I have been before embroiled
with madame de Pompadour, for whom I professed the highest esteem;
tell her, that at the present day especially, the favorite of Caesar is
sacred for me; that my heart and pen are hers, and that I only aspire to
live and die under her banner.
"As to the scraps you ask for, I have not at this moment any suitable.
Only the best viands are served up at the table of the goddesses. If
I had any I would present them to the person of whom you speak to me.
Assure her, that one day the greatest merit of my verse will be to have
them recited by her lips; and entreat her, until she bestows immortality
on me, to permit me to prostrate myself at her beautiful feet.
"I will not conclude my letter, monsieur le duc, without thanking you
a thousand times for the advice you have given me. This proof of your
kindness will, if possible augment the sincere attachment I bear to you.
I salute you with profound respect."
As it is bold to hold the pen after having transcribed anything of M. de
Voltaire's, I leave off here for to-day.