Madame du Barry succeeds in alienating Louis XV from the due de
Choiseul--Letter from madame de Grammont--Louis XV--The chancellor
and the countess--Louis XV and the abbé de la Ville--The maréchale de
Mirepoix and madame du Barry
Matters now assumed an air of importance. My struggle with the des
Choiseuls had become a deadly war, which could only be terminated either
by his downfall or my dismissal from court; this latter measure was not
very probable; an old man is not easily detached from a woman whom he
loves, and each day only added to my ascendancy over the mind of the
king. It is true, that the same force of habit which enchained Louis XV
to me bound him likewise to M. de Choiseul. The idea of change terrified
him; and so great was his dread of fresh faces, that he would have
preferred dying with his old minister, to creating a younger one who
might witness his end. Happily the duke himself brought on the crisis of
his fate; his power was cramped on all sides, yet, resolved not to lay
it down till the last extremity, he sought to stay his failing credit
with the rising influence of the dauphiness. His enemies were not slow
in pointing out to the king his minister's frequent visits and great
assiduities to a foreign princess, and enlarged upon the fatal effects
this new alliance might produce to the monarchy.
Meanwhile the chancellor, threatened by the parliaments, saw only one
way of averting the storm which was about to burst on his head. This was
to introduce into the cabinet persons entirely devoted to himself;
but to accomplish his purpose, it was necessary to exclude the duc de
Choiseul and his party. M. de Maupeou came to me in December, and after
having gently scolded me for what he termed my carelessness, he showed
me a letter from the duchesse de Grammont, which, he said, would
wonderfully aid our plans. This letter was written to one of the
presidents of the parliament of Toulous, M. de ----. I cannot give you
his name; for, although I have preserved the original of the letter, I
have mislaid the envelope on which the address was written. I here give
you a copy of this curious and important production:--
"MONSIEUR LE PRESIDENT,--I promised to give you the exact details of all
that passed in this gay metropolis, and 'tis with much pleasure I sit
down to fulfill my engagement. Things go on much as usual, or, perhaps,
I should be speaking more correctly, were I to say they are rapidly
progressing from bad to worse. We have no longer a king in France;
all power is lodged in the hands of one sprung from the most infamous
origin; who, in conjunction with others as intriguing as herself,
seeks only to ruin the kingdom, and to degrade it in the eyes of other
nations.
"The noble firmness of sovereign courts is odious to people of this
class; thus you may imagine the detestation in which they regard the
candid and loyal conduct of the duke. I n the hopes of procuring the
dismissal of my brother, they have chosen for his successor wretch
loaded with crimes, a coward, an extortioner, a murderer--the duc
d'Aiguillon. As for you gentlemen, who now constitute our parliament,
your places will soon be filled by a magistracy drawn from the dregs of
society; a troop of slaves, deaf and blind, except as he who pays them
best will have them exercise those powers.
"This is no time for indolent repose; we must at once courageously and
unanimously defeat the guilty schemes of our enemies. So long as my
brother retains his present post he will support you with his best
interest; but, should he be dismissed, your business will soon be
finished.
"I beg my best remembrances, first, to your excellent lady, and after
her, to madame B. and madame L., not forgetting the marquise de Chalret,
whose wit is truly Attic; nor the marquise de P--s, who conceals beneath
the graceful exterior of a Languedocian the soul of one of Corneille's
Roman matrons. For yourself rely upon my warmest friendship and
endeavours to serve you. My brother is most anxious to know you, after
the flattering manner in which I have mentioned you to him. When will
you gratify us both by visiting Paris?
"Ever yours,"
Nothing could have arrived more _à propos_ for our purpose than this
letter. I was still engaged in its perusal when the king was announced;
I wished to hurry it back into the hands of M. de Maupeou; but he, more
crafty than I, requested I would keep it.
"It is fitting," said he, "that it should be seen by the right person."
Louis XV, astonished at the strange scene, inquired what it meant.
"A most shameful piece of scandal, sire," replied I.
"An infamous epistle," added the chancellor, "which one of my friends
managed to abstract from the post-office, and forwarded to me: I brought
it to madame la comtesse, that she might admire the determined malice of
our enemies."
"You excite my curiosity," cried Louis XV. "Madame, have the kindness to
allow me to see this paper."
"Indeed, sire," exclaimed I, "I know not whether I ought to obey your
majesty, so entirely has the writer of the letter forgotten the respect
duc to your sacred person."
"Oh," said the king, "I do not fear that; I am but too well used to the
offence to feel astonishment at its occurrence."
I placed the paper in the hand of Louis XV, whose eye easily recognised
the handwriting of madame de Grammont. "Ah, ah!" cried he, "is it so?
let us see what this restless lady has to say of us all." I watched the
countenance of the king as he read, and saw the frown that covered it
grow darker and darker; nevertheless he continued to read on without
comment till he had reached the end; then sitting down and looking full
at the chancellor, he exclaimed,
"Well, M. de Maupeou, and what do you think of this business?"
"I am overwhelmed with consternation, sire," replied he, "when I think
that one of your majesty's ministers should be able to conspire thus
openly against you."
"Stay," cried Louis hastily, "that fact is by no means proved. The
duchesse de Grammont is a mad woman, who involves the safety of her
brother; if I only believed him capable of such treachery, he
should sleep this night in the Bastille, and to-morrow the necessary
proceedings should be commenced against him: as for his sister, I will
take care of her within four good walls, and avenge myself for her past
misconduct, by putting it out of her power to injure me further."
"Sire," said I, in my turn, "remember she is a woman; I beseech you to
pardon her, and let the weight of your just indignation fall upon her
brother."
"Chancellor," cried the king, "this business must not be lightly passed
over."
"Nor without due consideration," replied M. de Maupeou, "your majesty
may look upon this letter as the basis of a secret plot: as for the
duchess, I am of my cousin's opinion; despise her audacious attempts,
but spare not her brother; he alone is the guilty as well as dangerous
person."
The king made no answer, but rose, and crushing the letter in his hand,
threw it from him.
"Would," exclaimed he at last, "that the fiends had those who take such
delight in disgusting me with my very existence. Heavens! how justly may
I say I despise all men; nor have I a much better opinion of your sex,
madame la comtesse, I must warn you."
"Much obliged, sire," cried I; "really I was not prepared for such
gallantry. It is rather hard that you should quarrel with me because
this disagreeable duchess behaves ill! Upon my word it is very
unpleasant!"
"Come, come," said Louis XV, kissing my cheek, "don't you be a naughty
child; if I had not you, where should I turn for consolation amidst the
torments by which I am surrounded? Shall I tell you? In the midst of all
these perplexing affairs, there are moments in which I fear I may not be
promoting the happiness of my people."
"Your majesty is greatly mistaken," replied the chancellor; "the nation
in general must esteem themselves most happy under your reign; but it
will always happen that ill-disposed persons seek to pervert the public
opinion, and to lead men's minds astray. The duchess, when travelling,
was the faithful and active agent of her brother. The duke, to
secure his stay in the ministry, will eagerly avail himself of every
adventitious aid; within your kingdom he seeks the support of the
parliaments and philosophers; without, he claims the succour of Germany
and Spain. Your majesty is certainly master of your own will, and it
would ill become me to point out the path you should tread; but my duty
compels me to say, that the duc de Choiseul is the greatest enemy of the
royal house: of this he gave me a convincing proof in the case of your
august son; and now, if he fancied he should find it more advantageous
to have the dauphin for his master--"
"Chancellor of France," cried Louis, much agitated, "do you know what
you are asserting?"
"The truth, sire," I exclaimed. "The public voice accuses the duc de
Choiseul of the death of your son; they declare--"
"How! you, too, madam!" exclaimed the king looking at me fixedly.
"And why not, sire? I am merely repeating what is in every one's mouth."
"I have heard this horrible charge before," added the king; "the Jesuits
informed me of it, but I could not give credit to such a monstrosity."
"So much the worse," replied I; "in the world in which we live we should
always be on our guard."
"Sire," added the chancellor, with the most diabolical address, "I am
persuaded that M. de Choiseul is the most honourable man in the world,
and that he would shudder at the bare idea of any attempt upon the life
of your majesty; but his relations, friends, and creatures believe,
that, supported by the dauphiness, he would continue in office under
your successor. Who can answer for their honour? Who can assure you,
that some one among them may not do that for the duke which he would
never venture to attempt himself?
"This is the personal danger your majesty runs so long as M. de Choiseul
continues in office; were he dismissed, the world would soon abandon the
disgraced minister, and the dauphiness be amongst the first to forget
him."
The king was pale with agitation, and for some minutes continued
traversing the apartment with hasty strides; then he suddenly stopped.
"You are then convinced, M. de Maupeou," cried he, "that the duke is
leagued with the parliaments to weaken my authority?"
"There are palpable proofs to that effect," replied the chancellor;
"your majesty may recollect the skilful manner in which, on the 3d of
last September, he avoided attending you to parliament; most assuredly,
had he not been the friend of rebels, he would not have shrunk from
evincing by his presence how fully he shared your just indignation."
"That is but too true," cried Louis XV; "and I felt much annoyed at the
time, that he preferred going to amuse himself at the house of M. de
Laborde, when his duty summoned him to my side."
"Your majesty cannot fail to perceive how everything condemns him; his
personal conduct, equally with that of his sister, proves how little he
regards his royal master's interest; and should your clemency resolve
upon sparing him now, you may find your mercy produce fatal effects to
yourself."
"His dismissal," resumed the king, "would disorganize all my political
measures. Who could I put in his place? I know no one capable of filling
it."
"Your majesty's wisdom must decide the point," replied the chancellor.
"My duty is to lay before you the true state of things; this I have
done, and I know myself well enough not to intrude my counsel further.
Nevertheless, I cannot help remarking, that in your majesty's court
there are many as capable as M. de Choiseul of directing affairs--M.
d'Aiguillon, for example."
"Ah!" answered Louis XV; "this is not the moment, when M. d'Aiguillon
is smarting from his severe contest with the long robes, to elevate him
over the head of my hitherto-esteemed minister."
M. de Maupeou and myself perceived that we should best serve my friend's
cause by refraining from pressing the matter further, and we therefore
changed the conversation. Nevertheless, as what had already passed had
taken its full effect upon the king's mind, he suggested an idea which
I should never have dreamed of recommending; and that was to consult the
abbé de la Ville on the subject.
The abbé de la Ville, head clerk of foreign affairs, was a man who, at
the advanced period of fourscore, preserved all the fire and vivacity of
youth; he was acquainted with ministerial affairs even better than M.
de Choiseul himself. Having formerly belonged to the Jesuits, to whom he
was entirely devoted, he had appeared to accelerate the period of their
destruction; never had he been able to pardon his patron the frightful
part he had compelled him to enact in the business. Years had not
weakened his ancient rancour, and it might be said, that he had clung
to life with more than natural pertinacity, as unwilling to lay it
down till he had avenged himself on de Choiseul. Louis XV wrote to him,
desiring he would avail himself of the first pretext that occurred to
request an audience. This note was forwarded by a footman, the good
abbé easily divined that this mystery concealed some great design; he
therefore hastened to solicit an audience as desired. When introduced
into the cabinet of the king, his majesty inquired at once,
"Monsieur l' abbé, can I depend upon your discretion?"
"Sire," replied the abbé, with a blunt frankness, "I am sorry your
majesty can doubt it."
"Be satisfied, sir," replied the king, "I had no intention to offend
you; but I wish to consult you upon a point, the importance of which you
will fully appreciate; answer me without disguise. Do you believe that
the services of the duc de Choiseul are useful to my kingdom, and that
my interests would suffer were I to dismiss him?"
"Sire," replied M. de la Ville, without hesitation, "I protest to you,
as a man of honour, that the presence of the duc de Choiseul is by no
means essential to the ministry, and that your majesty's interests would
sustain not the slightest injury by his absence."
After this the abbé de la Ville entered into particulars unnecessary to
repeat here; it is sufficient to say, that all he advanced materially
aided our wishes. He afterwards reaped the reward of his friendly
services, for when the duc d'Aiguillon had displaced the duc de
Choiseul, he bestowed on M. de la Ville the title of _director of
foreign affairs_, an office created for him, and the bishopric _in
partibus_ of Tricomie. The good abbé did not, however, long enjoy his
honours, but ended his career in 1774.
This conversation had been repeated to me; and, on my side, I left no
means untried of preventing Louis XV from placing further confidence in
his minister; but, feeble and timid, he knew not on what to determine,
contenting himself with treating the duke coolly; he sought, by
continual rebuffs and denials to his slightest request, to compel him to
demand that dismissal he had not the courage to give.
Whilst these things were in agitation, madame de Mirepoix, who had been
for some days absent from Versailles, came to call upon me. This
lady possessed a considerable share of wit; and, although on the most
intimate terms with me, had not altogether broken off with the des
Choiseuls, to whom she was further bound on account of the prince de
Beauvau, her brother. It therefore excited in me no surprise, when I
heard that the des Choiseuls had called on her to ascertain, whether it
would not be possible, through her mediation, to come to some terms with
me.
"And you must not be angry with me," continued she, "for undertaking the
_negotiation_; I well foresaw all the difficulties, and entertained no
hopes of its success, but upon second thoughts, I considered it better I
should accept the mission; for, in case of a negative being returned,
it will be safe in my keeping, and I will not add to the chagrin of a
failure the shame of a defeat."
"It is my opinion," replied I, "that all propositions coming from these
people should be rejected; they have compelled me to raise between them
and myself an immense wall of hatred, not less difficult to surmount
than the grand wall of China."
"Yet," replied the maréchale, smiling, "they are disposed to pay any
price for so doing."
"I have friends," said I, "from whom I can never separate myself."
"They are willing that your friends shall be theirs likewise," cried
she, "for they see that M. de Maupeou, the duc de la Vrillière, and
the abbé Terray, are provided for, and that the duc d'Aiguillon alone
remains to be suitably established; M. de Choiseul would be happy to aid
him in obtaining the post of minister of naval affairs."
"Well, and the duchesse de Grammont," inquired I, "would she visit me?"
"Oh, as to that, I know nothing about it, and can venture no opinion; my
commission does not extend so far."
"I understand you," said I; "she seeks for peace only as it would enable
her the better to carry on her hostilities against me. I am
sorry, madame la maréchale, that I cannot accept your terms for a
reconciliation."
"Remember, I pray of you, that I have been an ambassadress, and nothing
more," said madame de Mirepoix; "recollect I have spoken to you in the
words of others, not my own. I must beg of you to be secret; if you
divulge the particulars of this morning's conversation, it is I who
will suffer by it: your friends will be displeased with me for my
interference; and I have no inclination to provoke the anger of a party
so powerful as yours."
I promised the maréchale to observe an inviolable secrecy; and, so well
have I kept my promise, that you are the first person to whom I ever
breathed one syllable of the affair. I must own, that it struck me as
strange, that the duc de Choiseul should abandon his cousin, and consent
to take his seat beside the duc d'Aiguillon, whom he detested: perhaps
he only sought to deceive us all by gaining time, till the death of
the king. But what avails speculation upon the words and actions of
a courtier, whose heart is an abyss too deep for gleam of light to
penetrate?