The duc d'Aiguillon brings an order for the immediate departure of
madame du Barry--The king's remarks recapitulated--The countess holds
a privy council--Letter to madame de Mirepoix and the ducs de Cossé and
d'Aiguillon--Night of departure--Ruel--Visit from madame de Forcalquier
I said I did not expect the duc d'Aiguillon; and the grief which was
spread over his features, and the large tears which stood in his eyes,
persuaded me but too plainly that all hope was at an end.
"Is the king dead?" cried I, in a stifled voice.
"No, madam," replied he, "Louis XV still lives, nor is it by any means
certain that the misfortune you apprehend is in store for us."
"He sends me from him, then," exclaimed I, with a convulsive cry, "and
my enemies have triumphed."
"His majesty is but of human nature, madam," replied the duke; "he feels
himself dangerously ill, dreads the future, and believes that he owes
his people a sort of reparation for past errors."
"How, my lord duke," interrupted I, "this grave language in your
lips--but no matter. Inform me only at whose desire you state these
melancholy facts; speak, I am prepared for your mission, be it what it
may."
"You shall hear everything, madam," replied the duke, leading me to an
arm-chair. I seated myself; my sisters-in-law, my niece, and comte Jean
stood around me, eagerly waiting the duke's communication. "A few hours
after you had been removed from his chamber, the king inquired of the
princess Adélaïde whether it were generally known at Paris that he had
the small-pox. The princess replied in the affirmative, adding:
"'The archbishop of Paris was here twice during yesterday to inquire
after you.'
"'Yet I belong more properly to the diocese of Chartres,' returned the
king, 'and surely M. de Fleury would not interest himself less about me
than M. de Beaumont.'
"'They are both truly anxious about you, my dearest father, and if you
would only see them--'
"'No, no,' answered Louis XV; 'they must not be taken from the duties
of their respective dioceses; besides, in case of need, I have my grand
almoner.'
"Madame Adélaïde did not venture to urge the matter further just then,
and, after a short interval of silence, a message was brought from you,
inquiring whether you could see the king, to which he himself replied,
that he felt inclined to sleep, and would rather not see any person that
night. I was in the chamber, and he very shortly called me to him, and
said:
"'Duc d'Aiguillon, I have the small-pox; and you are aware that there
is a sort of etiquette in my family which enjoins my immediately
discharging my duties as a Christian.'
"'Yes, sire, if the malady wore a serious aspect; but in your case--'
"'May God grant,' replied he, 'that my disorder be not dangerous;
however, it may become so, if it is as yet harmless, and I would fain
die as a believer rather than an infidel. I have been a great sinner,
doubtless; but I have ever observed Lent with a most scrupulous
exactitude. I have caused more than a hundred thousand masses to be
said for the repose of unhappy souls; I have respected the clergy, and
punished the authors of all impious works, so that I flatter myself I
have not been a very bad Christian.'
"I listened to his discourse with a heavy heart, yet I still strove to
reassure the king respecting his health, of which, I assured him, there
was not the slightest doubt.
"'There is one sacrifice,' said the king, in a low and hurried tone,
'that my daughter Louise, her sisters, and the clergy, will not be long
in exacting from me in the name of etiquette. I recollect the scene of
Metz, and it would be highly disagreeable to me to have it repeated at
Versailles; let us, therefore, take our precautions in time to prevent
it. Tell the duchesse d'Aiguillon that she will oblige me by taking the
comtesse du Barry to pass two or three days with her at Ruel.'
"'How, sire!' exclaimed I, 'send your dearest friend from you at a time
when you most require her cares?'
"'I do not send her away,' answered the king, with mournful tenderness,
'I but yield to present necessity; let her submit as she values my
happiness, and say to her, that I hope and believe her absence will be
very short.'"
The duke here ceased his recital, which fully confirmed all my previous
anticipations. My female relatives sobbed aloud, while comte Jean,
compressing his lips, endeavoured to assume that firmness he did not
really possess. By a violent effort I forced myself to assume a sort of
resignation.
"Am I required to depart immediately?" inquired I.
"No," said the duke; "to leave the château in the middle of the night
would be to assume the air of a flight, we had better await the coming
day; it will, besides, afford time to apprize the duchess."
While the duc d'Aiguillon was thus gone to arrange for my departure, I
requested to be left alone. My heart was oppressed, and I felt the need
of venting my grief upon some friendly bosom. After a few moments, spent
in collecting my thoughts, I addressed two letters, one to the maréchale
de Mirepoix, and the other to the duc de Cossé; to the former I wrote on
account of my retirement to Ruel, bewailed the sad turn my prospects
had assumed, expressed my deep concern for the severe illness of my
excellent friend and benefactor, begging of her to defend my character
from all unjust attacks, and to allow me to be blamed for no faults but
such as I had really been guilty of. I concluded with these words, "I
set out at seven o'clock to-morrow morning; the duchesse d'Aiguillon
will conduct me to Ruel, where I shall remain until I am ordered
elsewhere."
To the duke I merely sent a short account of my present prospects, hour
of departure, etc. And, my feelings somewhat relieved by the penning of
these epistles, I threw myself upon a couch to await the morning. Upon
awaking, I received the following note from the duchesse d'Aiguillon:--
"MADAME LA COMTESSE,--I owe his majesty many thanks for the pleasing,
yet mournful, task he has allotted me. Your kindness to my family,
independently of my private regard for you, gives you the surest claim
of my best services during this afflicting period. Let me beseech of you
not to despair, but cheerfully anticipate brighter days.
"I will call for you at seven o'clock, and if you approve of it, we
will use my carriage. Ruel is entirely at your disposal and that of your
family."
This note was truly characteristic of its amiable writer, who at court
passed for a cold-hearted, frigid being, whilst, in reality, the warm
feelings of her excellent heart were reserved for her chosen friends.
I have never admired those general lovers who profess to love every one,
nor do I feel quite sure it is a very strong recommendation to say a
person is beloved by all who know her. Read, now, a striking contrast
to the short but sympathizing billet of madame d'Aiguillon, in the
following heartless letter f rom the maréchale de Mirepoix, which was
put into my hands as I was ascending the carriage.
"MY LOVELY COUNTESS,--I am all astonishment! Can it be possible that you
are to quit Versailles? You are right in saying you have been the friend
of every one, and those who could speak ill of you are to be pitied
for not having had better opportunities of understanding your real
character. But fear not, the dauphiness is virtue personified, and the
dauphin equally perfect. Every thing promises a peaceful and indulgent
reign, should we have the misfortune to lose his present majesty. Still
there will always be a great void left at Versailles; as far as I am
concerned, I have passed so much of my time with you, that I cannot
imagine what I shall do with my evenings; it will cost me much of my age
to alter habits and customs now so long fixed and settled, but such is
life; nothing certain, nothing stable. We should imitate cats in our
attachments, and rather identify ourselves with the house than the
possessor of it. I trust you have secured an ample provision for the
future; neglect not the present, to-morrow may come in vain for you.
"Be sure you let me know the spot to which you permanently retire, and I
will endeavour to see you as frequently as my engagements will admit of.
"Adieu, _ma belle petite_."
Spite of the bitterness of my feelings, this letter drew a smile to
my lips; the allusion to cats which had escaped the maréchale exactly
applied to her own character, of which I had been warned before I became
acquainted with her; but her protestations of warm and unutterable
attachment had gained my confidence, and I allowed myself to be guided
implicitly by her.
The duchesse d'Aiguillon was waiting for me while I perused the above
letter; at length, with a sigh, I prepared to quit that palace of
delights where I had reigned absolute mistress. I cast a mournful look
around me, on those splendid walks, fountains and statues, worthy the
gardens of Armida, but where there reigned, at this early hour, a sort
of gloomy silence; whilst, in that chamber where love had well nigh
deified me and recognised me as queen of France, lay extended the
monarch so lately my protector and friend.
It was the Wednesday of the fifth of May that I took my seat in the
carriage of the duchesse d'Aiguillon accompanied by my sister-in-law and
the vicomtesse Adolphe, who would not forsake me. Bischi remained
with madame d'Hargicourt, whose duties detained her with the comtesse
d'Artois. Her husband also remained at Versailles, while comte Jean and
his son proceeded to Paris. I will not attempt to describe the emotions
with which I quitted my magnificent suite of apartments, and traversed
the halls and staircases already crowded by persons anxiously awaiting
the first intimation of the king's decease. I was wrapped in my pelisse,
and effectually eluded observation. It has been said that I left
Versailles at four o'clock in the morning, but that was a mere invention
on the part of my servants to baffle the curiosity of those who might
have annoyed me by their presence.
We pursued our way in mournful reflection, whilst madame d'Aiguillon,
with her wonted goodness, sought by every means to distract me from
the dejection in which I was buried. Her husband, who remained with the
king, engaged to write me a true account of all that transpired during
my absence, and I shall very shortly present you with a specimen of
the fidelity with which he performed his promise. The duchess did the
honours of Ruel.
"Here," said she, "the great cardinal Richelieu loved to repose himself
from the bustle and turmoil of a court."
"I think," answered I, "it would have been less a favourite with his
eminence had it been selected for his abode on the eve of his disgrace."
Immediately upon my arrival I retired to bed, for fatigue had so
completely overpowered me that I fell into a heavy slumber, from which
I did not awake till the following day; when I found the duchesse
d'Aiguillon, my sister-in-law, Geneviève Mathon, and Henriette, seated
by my bed: the sight of them was cheering and gratifying proof of my not
being as yet abandoned by all the world.
I arose, and we were just about to take our places at table, when
madame de Forcalquier arrived. I must confess that her presence was an
agreeable surprise to me; I was far from reckoning on her constancy in
friendship, and her present conduct proved her worthy of her excellent
friend, madame Boncault, whose steady attachment I had so frequently
heard extolled. The sight of her imparted fresh courage to me, and I
even resumed my usual high spirits, and in the sudden turn my ideas
had taken, was childish enough to express my regrets for the loss of
my downy and luxurious bed at Versailles, complaining of the woeful
difference between it and the one I had slept on at Ruel.
The duchesse d'Aiguillon, who must have pitied the puerility of such a
remark, gently endeavoured to reconcile me to it by reminding me that
both the marquise de Pompadour and the cardinal de Richelieu had reposed
upon that very couch.
I endeavoured to return some sportive reply, but my thoughts had flown
back to Versailles, and my momentary exhilaration was at an end. Tears
rose to my eyes and choked my attempts at conversation; I therefore
begged the duchess would excuse me, and retired to my apartment until
I could compose myself; but the kind and attentive friend to whose
hospitality I was then confided needed no further mention of my hard
couch, but caused the best bed Ruel contained to be prepared for me by
the time I again pressed my pillow.
This same evening brought M. de Cossé, who could no longer repress his
impatience to assure me of his entire devotion. He appeared on this
occasion, if possible, more tender and more respectful in his manner of
evincing it than ever.
We supped together without form or ceremony, the party consisting of
mesdames d'Aiguillon, de Forcalquier, and myself, mademoiselle du Barry,
and the vicomtesse Adolphe, the prince de Soubise and the duc de Cossé.
But the meal passed off in sorrowful silence; each of us seemed to
abstain from conversation as though the slightest remark might come
fraught with some painful allusion. On the following day I received the
letter from the duc d'Aiguillon which you will find in the following
chapter.