Madame du Barry separates from madame de Bearn--Letters between
these ladies--Portrait of madame de lHôpital--The ladder--The
bell--Conversation with madame de Mirepoix--First visit to Chantilly--
Intrigues to prevent the countess from going thither--The king's
Displeasure towards the princesses--The archbishop de Senlis The spoiled
child of fortune, I had now attained the height of my wishes. The king's
passion augmented daily, and my empire became such as to defy the utmost
endeavors of my enemies to undermine it. Another woman in my place would
have employed her power in striking terror amongst all who were opposed
to her, but for my own part I contented myself with repulsing their
attempts to injure me, and in proceeding to severity only when my
personal interests were too deeply concerned to admit of my passing the
matter over in silence.
There was no accusation too infamous to be laid to my charge; amongst
other enormities they scrupled not to allege that I had been the
murderess of Lebel, the king's _valet-de-chambre_, who died by poison!
Was it likely, was it probable that I should seek the destruction of him
to whom I owed my elevation, the most devoted of friends, and for whom
my heart cherished the most lively sense of gratitude? What interest
could I possibly derive from the perpetration of such a crime? The
imputation was too absurd for belief, but slander cares little for the
seeming improbability of such an event. The simple fact remained that
Lebel was dead, of course the cruel and unjust consequence became in the
hands of my enemies, that I had been the principal accessory to it.
My most trifling actions were misrepresented with the same black
malignity. They even made it a crime in me to have written to madame
de Bearn, thanking her for her past kindnesses, and thus setting her
at liberty to retire from the mercenary services she pretended to
have afforded me. And who could blame me for seeking to render myself
independent of her control, or for becoming weary of the tyrannical
guidance of one who had taken it into her head that I had become her
sole property, and who, in pursuance of this idea, bored and tormented
me to death with her follies and exactions, and even took upon herself
to be out of humor at the least indication of my attaching myself to
any other lady of the court. According to her view of things, gratitude
imposed on me the rigorous law of forming an intimacy with her alone; in
a word, she exercised over me the most galling dominion, which my family
had long counselled me to shake off; in truth, I was perfectly tired of
bearing the yoke her capricious and overbearing temper imposed upon me,
but I determined, if possible, to do nothing hastily, and to endure it
with patience as long as I could. But now that the number of my female
friends was augmented by the addition of the marquise de Montmorency and
the comtesse de l'Hôpital I determined no longer to bear the constant
display of madame de Bearn's despotic sway, and finding no chance of
accommodating our tastes and humors, I resolved to free myself from her
thraldom. Another powerful reason for this measure was the dislike with
which the king regarded her; not that she was deficient in birth or
good breeding, but amidst the polish of high life she occasionally i
ntroduced the most vulgar and provincial manners, a fault of all others
most offensive to the king, whose disgust was further excited by the
undisguised avidity with which, at every opportunity, she sought to turn
her admission to the king's private society to account, by preferring
some request or soliciting some particular favor. Instead of giving
herself up to the joy and hilarity that reigned around, she seemed
always on the watch to seize every possible advantage to herself.
Immediately that the king was apprized of my intention of dismissing her
from any further cares for me, "You are quite right," said he, "to get
rid of this troublesome woman, who never visits us without calculating
the degree of interest she can derive from it, and seems to me, whenever
she approaches me, as tho' she were devising some fresh petition to
obtain from me. And now, too, that the first ladies of the court fill
your drawing-rooms, why should you endure her importunate presence?"
Strengthened by these sentiments on the king's part, I lost no time in
writing to madame de Bearn a letter, of which many false copies were
circulated; however, I subjoin the following as the veritable epistle
addressed by me to the countess:--
"MADAME,--It would be the height of selfishness on my part to tax
further the kindness and attention you have been pleased to show me. I
am well aware how many public and private duties claim your care, and I
therefore (with much regret) beg to restore to you that liberty you have
so generously sacrificed to my interests. Conscious of the ennui which
oppresses you in this part of the country, I write to entreat that you
will allow no consideration connected with me to detain you longer in a
place so irksome, but, since our visit to Marly is concluded, fly upon
the wings of impatience to the gay scenes of Paris and Luxembourg. Be
assured that it will at all times afford me much pleasure to evince the
gratitude with which I shall ever remain,
"Madame, yours sincerely,
"THE COMTESSE Du Barry."
"P. S. I am commissioned to entreat your acceptance of the accompanying
casket; it is the gift of one whose favors are never refused; you
will easily guess, to whom I allude, and I doubt not bring yourself to
conform to the usual custom."
The jewels sent were a pair of ear-rings and an _agrafe_ of emeralds
encircled with diamonds. The king was desirous of bestowing upon madame
de Bearn this particular mark of his recollection of her services
towards me, but it did not allay the indignation with which she
expressed her sense of my bitter ingratitude, as she termed it, as
tho' her interested cooperation had not been sufficiently repaid.
Nevertheless, she forbore to come to a decided quarrel with me, but
satisfied herself with loading me with every reproach in private, whilst
she wrote to thank me for all the favors I had bestowed upon her, and
entreated I would keep her remembrance alive in the mind of my royal
protector. As there was nothing offensive in the style of the letter I
showed it to the king; when he came to the part where madame de Bearn
recommended herself to his kind recollection, and expressed her desire
to be permitted to throw herself once more at his feet, "Heaven preserve
me," cried he, "from receiving this mark of the lady's respect. No, no,
she is bad enough at a distance; I should be bored to death were she so
near to me as she prays for. Thank God we have got rid of her, and now
trust to your own guidance; try the powers of your own wings to bear you
in safety, I feel persuaded you will never be at a loss."
About this time the prince de Soubise, anxious to evince that he no
longer retained any feelings of coolness towards me, requested his
mistress, madame de l'Hôpital, to call upon me. This lady, without being
a regular beauty, was yet very attractive. She was past the meridian of
her charms, but what she wanted in youth she amply compensated for by
the vivacity and brilliancy of her conversation, as well as the freedom
of her ideas, which made her the idol of all the old libertines of the
court. The prince de Soubise was greatly attached to her, and preferred
her in reality, to mademoiselle Guimard, whom he only retained for
form's sake, and because he thought it suitable to his dignity to have
an opera dancer in his pay; this nobleman (as you will find) had rather
singular ideas of the duties attached to his station.
Madame de l'Hôpital had had a vast number of gallant adventures, which
she was very fond of relating. I shall mention two of the most amusing,
which will serve to convey an idea of the skilfulness and ready wit with
which she extricated herself from the most embarrassing circumstances.
A young man, whose love she permitted, whose name was the chevalier
de Cressy, was obliged, in order to visit her, to scale a terrace upon
which a window opened, which conducted to the sleeping-room of his
mistress. He was generally accompanied by his valet, a good-looking
youth, who, disliking a state of idleness, had contrived to insinuate
himself into the good graces of the lady's maid. The valet, during
his master's stay with madame, had likewise ascended the terrace, and
penetrated, by the aid of another window, into the chamber where reposed
the object of his tender love. All this was accomplished with as little
noise as possible, in order to prevent the mischance of awakening the
marquis de l'Hôpital, who was quietly asleep in an adjoining room.
One clear moonlight night, at the very instant when M. de Cressy
was about to step out of the window, in order to return to his own
apartment, a terrible crash of broken glass was heard. The terrified
chevalier sought the aid of his ladder, but it had disappeared. Not
knowing what to do, the chevalier returned to madame de l'Hôpital, who,
seized with terror, had only just time to conceal him in her chamber,
when the marquis opened his window to ascertain the cause of all this
confusion. In an instant the alarm spread, and heads were popped out
of the different windows of the castle, each vieing with the other in
vociferating "Thieves! thieves! murder! fire!"
The unfortunate author of all this disturbance was the unlucky valet;
who, in his overeagerness to reach his Dulcinea, had attempted to climb
his ladder so nimbly, that it fell down, and, striking against the
windows of a room near which he had fixed it, had broken several panes
of glass. The poor valet never stopped to replace the ladder; but,
terrified as well as hurt by his rapid descent, scrambled off as well as
he could, abandoning his master in his present critical situation.
The ladder thrown down in the courtyard was abundant proof that some
audacious attempt had been made upon the lives and safety of the
inhabitants of the castle; and the general determination was to catch
the thieves: for, it was presumed, as no outlet for their escape was
discernible, that they must be concealed within its walls. The servants,
with their master at their head, were speedily assembled for the
purpose, when the absence of the chevalier de Cressy was observed. Where
could he be? was the general wonder. Was it possible that, amidst the
universal uproar with which the castle had resounded, he had slept so
soundly as to be yet unconscious of all this bustle? An over-officious
friend was upon the point of going to his chamber, to ascertain
the cause of his absenting himself at such a moment, when madame de
l'Hôpital sent to request her husband would come to her immediately.
"Sir," said she, when they were alone, "the disturbance which has
thus broken our rest is not the work of thieves, but originates in the
shameless licentiousness of a man unworthy of his name and the rank he
occupies. The chevalier de Cressy, forgetful of his being your guest,
and of respecting the honor of all beneath your roof, has dared to carry
on a base intrigue with my woman, in whose apartment you will find him
at this very minute. A conduct so profligate and insulting fills me with
an indignation which I think that you, sir, after what you have heard,
cannot but partake."
The marquis de l'Hôpital, who did not see the thing in the same serious
light, sought to appease the virtuous indignation of his lady, and went
himself to release the chevalier from his place of concealment; leading
him thro' his own apartment to join the crowd of armed servants, who,
as may be supposed, were unable to detect the supposed invaders of their
repose.
On the following morning the chevalier as agreed upon, wrote a
penitential letter to madame, entreating her pardon for his improper
attentions to her servant, whom she affected to dismiss with every mark
of gravest displeasure. The weeping Abigail threw herself at the feet of
her mistress: and the compassionate marquis (before whom the scene was
enacted), touched with pity, implored his lady to receive the afflicted
and penitent Javotte once more into her service. This was at length
granted to his solicitations; and Javotte received a hundred louis as
the price of her silence, and found it sufficient compensation for the
bad opinion the marquis entertained of her virtue.
The second trick the marchioness played her husband was not less
amusing.
The chevalier de Cressy and herself could not meet so frequently as both
desired; and whilst suffering under the void occasioned by his absence,
chance threw in her way a young relative of her husband's, a youth of
about eighteen, as beautiful as Love, and as daring as that god. They
were then in the country during the fine days of summer, and both time
and place were favorable to the prosecution of their growing passion.
One day madame de l'Hôpital and her cousin were sauntering about the
park heedless of the approaching dinner-hour, and equally deaf to the
sound of the dinner-bell, which rung its accustomed peal in vain for
them whose ears were occupied in listening to sweeter sounds. At length
the master of the house, alarmed at the protracted absence of his wife
and friend, went himself, attended by many guests assembled at his
house, in search of the stray ones; the servants likewise received
orders to disperse themselves over the grounds in different directions;
and madame de l'Hôpital and her companion were only aroused to a
recollection of the flight of time by hearing their names loudly shouted
by a dozen different voices. Fortunately they were just in time to
separate in opposite paths, and thus to enter the castle without any
suspicion being excited of their having been so recently in each other's
company. The marquis angrily remonstrated with his lady for having
obliged him to send in search of her, and she excused herself by
protesting that she had not heard the dinner-bell. The marquis replied,
that the thing was impossible; and after some angry discussion the
matter rested there.
A few days after this the marchioness, with her husband and cousin, were
rambling over the grounds, when they found themselves at the entrance of
a hermitage, where madame de l'Hôpital had told the marquis she had
sat down to rest herself on the day of her failing to attend the
dinner-hour. M. de l'Hôpital resumed the dispute, by protesting that
from this situation the dinner-bell might easily be heard: the lady
continued firm in protesting it could not, till, at last, feigning
extreme anger, she exclaimed. "Well then, sir, since you refuse to
believe _my_ assertion, go yourself and ring the bell as loudly as you
please, your cousin will remain here with me, and determine if it be
possible to distinguish the sound from here."
The fool of a marquis set off in the height of his zeal to convince
his wife, and, arriving at the turret where the bell was placed,
began ringing it with all his might and main, leaving the lovers the
undisturbed opportunity they were not slow in taking advantage of. When
the marquis had ceased his chimes, the loving pair went to meet him.
"Well, my good cousin," inquired he, as they approached, "which of us
was right? Could you hear it or not?"
"Yourself, most assuredly," replied the young man, not without a slight
blush. "I can assure you that both madame and myself heard the bell the
whole time you were ringing it."
"There, I told you so; I told you so"; cried the delighted husband,
triumphantly rubbing his hands.
I thought when this lively and piquant adventure was related to me, that
it was well worthy of being immortalized by the pen of a La Fontaine.
The marchioness gave these anecdotes with a grace and talent peculiarly
her own; and I sometimes imagined that some of the many she favored
us with had perhaps taken place in a more recent period than that she
assigned to them; and that, in order to divert our suspicions as to who
were the real actors, she frequently substituted the _past_ for what
should have been with more correctness the _present_ time. With manners
so calculated to win, she could not fail being a delightful companion,
altho' in my heart I could not help giving the preference to the society
of the maréchale de Mirepoix.
Besides, the preference evinced by this lady in so generously separating
herself from all her family, in order to attach herself to me, was
not without its full value in my eyes. I knew myself to be generally
disliked by her brother and sister-in-law, the prince and princesse
de Beauvau, the latter of whom was secretly the mistress of the duc de
Choiseul, over whom she exercised an equal empire with the duchesse de
Grammont, and I was every day the object of some fresh attack on their
part. I used sometimes to complain of this to the maréchale. "My dear
friend," she would reply, "I am sorry, but cannot help it; in the midst
of times such as we live in, and in such a court too, the prince de
Beauvau aspires to be a noble Roman, and would fain be the Cato of his
country at least. When I recommend to him a greater degree of prudence,
he talks to me of virtue, as tho' at Versailles duty did not consist in
implicit obedience to the wishes of our royal master; either obedience
or absence from court is the golden rule laid down, from which none dare
deviate. As to my sister-in-law she aims at the heroic likewise, altho
her models are formed from another school; in fact, she has pored
over the romances of Cyrus. Cassander, and Clelia, till she is half
bewildered, and holds forth upon the virtues of these famous heroines,
till I am frequently upon the point of exclaiming, 'Ah, my dear, it is
all very fine; but Clelia and Mandane would not have shared their bed
with the duc de Choiseul.'"
By these lively sallies the maréchale succeeded in diverting my anger
from her relations, and I generally forgot my resentment in a hearty fit
of laughter, brought on by her sprightly conversation. I found myself
becoming daily more attached to her, and her presence helped to console
me for the many vexations I continually encountered.
The greatest disagreeableness I encountered was occasioned by the
capricious behavior of the princesses, who sometimes received me with
pleasure and at others evinced a disposition to annoy me in every
possible way, according as it suited the whims and wishes of those about
them. The following may serve as an instance of their versatility.
The prince de Condé having announced his intention of giving a grand
Fête at Chantilly, the princesses declared they would not be present if
I were there. The prince de Condé, spite of his claims to the character
of a great man, was nevertheless one of the most subtle courtiers;
and as soon as he was informed of the princesses' intention, he came,
without ceremony, to explain the matter to me. This was the first visit
he had honored me with. "Madame," said he, "I had flattered myself you
would have embellished Chantilly with your presence; but the beauties
of the court, too justly alarmed at the idea of being eclipsed by your
dazzling charms, have so successfully manoeuvred, that they have wrought
upon the royal daughters of our august monarch to declare, that the
beauty of their attending nymphs shall not be effaced by yours. You have
too much good sense to see the affair in any but its true light; and the
disappointment your absence will inflict on me would be too cruelly
felt for endurance, did I not seek to pacify my anxious wishes on the
subject, by obtaining your promise to pay me a visit when the king next
honors Chantilly with his presence."
I felt deeply flattered by the invitation. The prince continued to pay
me several elegant and gallant compliments; and I was, upon the whole,
charmed with our interview. However, the king was highly displeased with
his daughters' proceedings. "I have a great inclination," said he,
"to forbid their going to Chantilly at all. Upon my word, if I were to
listen to them, they would fain make of me the same puppet they allow
themselves to become in the hands of the greatest simpleton who will
take the trouble of leading them."
I endeavored to appease his anger, by reminding him, that he could not
expect perfection from his daughters; and that, forced as they were
to hear me continually spoken ill of by my enemies, it was next to
impossible they should be able to prevent themselves from adopting
the opinion of those around them. "And that," said he, "is what I
principally find fault with. What have they to do with aping the tone
of those about them; and what point of their duty teaches them to detest
those whom I love? I will take care to let them know my displeasure."
All my endeavors were in vain; I could obtain no change of his purpose;
and, summoning the archbishop de Senlis, he spoke to him in a manner
that plainly evinced his intention of making him responsible for the
actions of the princesses. Poor M. de Roquelaure called all the saints
in paradise to witness his innocence.
"Silence, sir," exclaimed the king, "I am perfectly certain this affair
has not gone on without your knowledge and probable participation. I
know you well for a person devoted to the ladies, as a gay, gallant
gentleman need be: I know likewise that you expend the revenues of your
bishopric and livings upon the prettiest girls of Paris; thus I can
hardly suppose you would have counselled my daughters' conduct. No, I
blame those wicked and vindictive scandal-mongers, whose age is their
only protection, and those intriguing men who beset my daughters' ears."
"Sire," protested the trembling bishop, "I entreat you to believe I am
innocent of the whole affair."
"Sir," interrupted the king, "I know well that you are as good a
courtier as a prelate, but still I believe you merely ape your betters;
and far from entertaining any personal dislike to the comtesse du Barry,
you would not object to receive either the archbishopric of d'Albi or
Sens from her hands, were they in her power to bestow."
The conversation went on in this style for more than half an hour. The
king, who had amused himself highly at the terror of the bishop, left
off in excellent humor.
This interview had not been productive of equal amusement to M. de
Roquelaure, whose self-love had been deeply humbled by the way in which
the king had spoken. No sooner did he feel himself at liberty, than he
hastened to communicate to the princesses the violent displeasure they
had excited; and these ladies, so brave and daring whilst their father
appeared to offer no show of authority or anger, durst proceed no
further when they heard of his seriously disapproving of it; and they
felt the full inconsistency of their conduct, in first admitting me into
their presence, and then refusing to meet me at any other place. The
consequence of their deliberation upon the subject was to depute the
bishop de Senlis to call upon me. This accommodating prelate discharged
his mission with the utmost amenity, presenting me with the united
compliments of the royal sisters, who all joined in requesting the
pleasure of meeting me at Chantilly. Had not the prince de Condé held
out the flattering prospect of giving me a Fête wholly to myself, in all
probability I should have profited by their invitation; but knowing of
the secret intention of the prince, I returned for answer, "that it
was sufficiently flattering and gratifying to me, to find that I still
preserved any portion of the princesses' kind favor, but that I was
abundantly honored by the intimation of my presence being agreeable.
Nevertheless, as I had good authority for conjecturing that it might
not be equally so to many of the ladies of their court, I should abstain
from giving offence to any one by my presence."
"Ah, madame," cried M. de Roquelaure, "I entreat of you not to insist
upon my carrying the latter part of this message to the princesses, they
would be so much grieved."
"Well, then, sir," said I, "tell them that I am indisposed, and that the
state of my health will detain me at Versailles."
"That indeed," said he, "is a more respectful message; and further
I would venture to ask of your goodness, that since it is not your
pleasure to honor Chantilly with your presence, that you will have the
kindness to mention in the proper quarter, that far from my royal ladies
opposing any obstacle to your going, they would have been much delighted
with your presence there."
"Be assured, sir," answered I, "that I shall ever feel proud and
honored by the princesses' notice; and I will take care that the
faithful account of all their gracious condescension shall be faithfully
and loudly reported."
The bishop departed much pleased with the success of his negotiation;
and, above all, with the agreeable turn the affair had taken.
When I next saw the king, I said to him, "Your daughters, sire, are as
amiable as you would have them; they have been informed that some evil
disposed persons have asserted, that they had prohibited my being of the
party to Chantilly; and in order to testify how differently they were
disposed towards me, they despatched the bishop de Senlis."
"A most fit person to be intrusted with such a commission," replied the
king; "for I have, in every instance, endeavored to justify the
wishes of this holy pillar of the church, this worthy prelate with his
double-faced politeness, towards those whom he openly compliments, and
reviles in private, just as his interest may require it. Well! and what
did you say to him?"
"That I most humbly thanked the princesses, but that the state of my
health did not permit of my visiting Chantilly for the present."
"That is all very well," answered Louis XV; "you have framed your
excuse with much generosity, which I greatly fear will meet with a very
different turn; for if you do not accompany me to Chantilly, the
report circulated will be, that the princesses have forbidden you their
presence; which my dearly beloved daughters, whose characters I fully
understand, will neither affirm nor deny before the public, whilst in
private they will vow that they prohibited you from following them.
Always excepting madame Louise, who is an angel upon earth, as she will
most assuredly be one day in heaven, where I trust her prayers for me
and mine will be heard."
I did not at the time pay any particular attention to the latter part
of the king's discourse, for, indeed, the beginning was far more
interesting to me; but when I afterwards learnt that madame Louise had
quitted the grandeurs of Versailles for the gloom and austerity of a
convent I recollected it, and easily comprehended that it was spoken in
allusion to an event which took place some time afterwards, and of which
I shall speak in its proper place. However, the king's prediction was
exactly verified; and the report in general circulation was, that the
princesses had declared their intention of not going to Chantilly; it
was further rumored, that I was there, but in a private and concealed
manner. This is wholly untrue; the king would never have permitted such
a humiliation; nor do I believe I should have submitted to it had he
even desired it. However all this may be, he sought to recompense me for
his absence by writing a most delightful letter, which I will subjoin
for your gratification. To me it was of so much the greater value, that
having its royal writer's permission to show it, it became the first
death-blow I aimed at the cabal against me. The king possessed a much
greater portion of wit and talent than the weakness and timidity of his
character permitted to appear.