The chase was every day the amusement of the King, and the Queen was
obliged to make it hers. But it was always the same. Their Catholic
Majesties did me the singular honour to invite me to it once, and I went
in my coach. Thus I saw this pleasure well, and to see it once is to see
it always. Animals to shoot are not met with in the plains. They must
be sought for among the mountains,--and there the ground is too rugged
for hunting the stag, the wild boar, and other beasts as we hunt the
hare,--and elsewhere. The plains even are so dry, so hard, so full of
deep crevices (that are not perceived until their brink is reached), that
the best hounds or harriers would soon be knocked up, and would have
their feet blistered, nay lamed, for a long time. Besides, the ground is
so thickly covered with sturdy vegetation that the hounds could not
derive much help from their noses. Mere shooting on the wing the King
had long since quitted, and he had ceased to mount his horse; thus the
chase simply resolved itself into a battue.
The Duc del Orco, who, by his post of grand ecuyer, had the
superintendence of all the hunting arrangements, chose the place where
the King and Queen were to go. Two large arbours were erected there, the
one against the other, entirely shut in, except where two large openings,
like windows, were made, of breast-height. The King, the Queen, the
captain of the guards, and the grand ecuyer were in the first arbour with
about twenty guns and the wherewithal to load them. In the other arbour,
the day I was present, were the Prince of the Asturias, who came in his
coach with the Duc de Ponoli and the Marquis del Surco, the Marquis de
Santa Cruz, the Duc Giovenazzo, majordomo, major and grand ecuyer to the
Queen, Valouse, two or three officers of the body-guard, and I myself.
We had a number of guns, and some men to load them. A single lady of the
palace followed the Queen all alone, in another coach, which she did not
quit; she carried with her, for her consolation, a book or some work, for
no one approached her. Their Majesties and their suite went to the chase
in hot haste with relays of guards and of coach horses, for the distance
was at least three or four leagues; at the least double that from Paris
to Versailles. The party alighted at the arbours, and immediately the
carriages, the poor lady of the palace, and all the horses were led away
far out of sight, lest they should frighten the beasts.
Two, three, four hundred peasants had early in the morning beaten the
country round, with hue and cry, after having enclosed it and driven all
the animals together as near these arbours as possible. When in the
arbour you were not allowed to stir, or to make the slightest remarks, or
to wear attractive colours; and everybody stood up in silence.
This period of expectation lasted an hour and a half, and did not appear
to me very amusing. At last we heard loud cries from afar, and soon
after we saw troops of animals pass and repass within shot and within
half-shot of us; and then the King and the Queen banged away in good
earnest. This diversion, or rather species of butchery, lasted more than
half an hour, during which stags, hinds, roebucks, boars, hares, wolves,
badgers, foxes, and numberless pole-cats passed; and were killed or
lamed.
We were obliged to let the King and Queen fire first, although pretty
often they permitted the grand ecuyer and the captain of the guard to
fire also; and as we did not know from whom came the report, we were
obliged to wait until the King's arbour was perfectly silent; then let
the Prince shoot, who very often had nothing to shoot at, and we still
less. Nevertheless, I killed a fox, but a little before I ought to have
done so, at which, somewhat ashamed, I made my excuses to the Prince of
the Asturias, who burst out laughing, and the company also, I following
their example and all passing very politely.
In proportion as the peasants approach and draw nearer each other, the
sport advances, and it finishes when they all come close to the arbours,
still shouting, and with nothing more behind them. Then the coaches
return, the company quits the arbours, the beasts killed are laid before
the King. They are placed afterwards behind the coaches. During all
this, conversation respecting the sport rolls on. We carried away this
day about a dozen or more beasts, some hares, foxes, and polecats. The
night overtook us soon after we quitted the arbours.
And this is the daily diversion of their Catholic Majesties.
It is time now, however, to resume the thread of my narrative, from which
these curious and little-known details have led me.
I have shown in its place the motive which made me desire my embassy; it
was to obtain the 'grandesse' for my second son, and thus to "branch" my
house. I also desired to obtain the Toison d'Or for my eldest son, that
he might derive from this journey an ornament which, at his age, was a
decoration. I had left Paris with full liberty to employ every aid, in
order to obtain these things; I had, too, from M. le Duc d'Orleans, the
promise that he would expressly ask the King of Spain for the former
favour, employing the name of the King, and letters of the strongest kind
from Cardinal Dubois to Grimaldo and Father Aubenton. In the midst of
the turmoil of affairs I spoke to both of these persons, and was
favourably attended to.
Grimaldo was upright and truthful. He conceived a real friendship for
me, and gave me, during my stay at Madrid, all sorts of proofs of it.
He said that this union of the two Courts by the two marriages might
influence the ministers. His sole point of support, in order to maintain
himself in the post he occupied, so brilliant and so envied, was the King
of Spain. The Queen, he found, could never be a solid foundation on
which to repose. He wished, then, to support himself upon France, or at
least to have no opposition from it, and he perfectly well knew the
duplicity and caprices of Cardinal Dubois. The Court of Spain, at all
times so watchful over M. le Duc d'Orleans, in consequence of what had
passed in the time of the Princesse des Ursins, and during the Regency,.
was not ignorant of the intimate and uninterrupted confidence of this
prince in me, or of the terms on which I was with him. These sort of
things appear larger than they are, when seen from afar, and the choice
that had been made of me for this singular embassy confirmed it still
more! Grimaldo, then, might have thought to assure my friendship in his
behalf, and my influence with M. le Duc d'Orleans, occasion demanding it;
and I don't think I am deceiving myself in attributing to him this policy
while he aided me to obtain a favour, at bottom quite natural, and which
could cause him no inconvenience.
I regarded the moment at which the marriage would be celebrated as that
at which I stood most chance of obtaining what I desired, and I
considered that if it passed over without result to me, all would grow
cold, and become uncertain, and very disagreeable. I had forgotten
nothing during this first stay in Madrid, in order to please everybody,
and I make bold to say that I had all the better succeeded because I had
tried to give weight and merit to my politeness, measuring it according
to the persons I addressed, without prostitution and without avarice, and
that's what made me hasten to learn all I could of the birth, of the
dignities, of the posts, of the alliances, of the reputation of each, so
as to play my cards well, and secure the game.
But still I needed the letters of M. le Duc d'Orleans, and of Cardinal
Dubois. I did not doubt the willingness of the Regent, but I did doubt,
and very much too, that of his minister. It has been seen what reason I
had for this.
These letters ought to have arrived at Madrid at the same time that I
did, but they had not come, and there seemed no prospect of their
arriving. What redoubled my impatience was that I read them beforehand,
and that I wished to have the time to reflect, and to turn round, in
order to draw from them, in spite of them, all the help I could. I
reckoned that these letters would be in a feeble spirit, and this opinion
made me more desirous to fortify my batteries in Spain in order to render
myself agreeable to the King and Queen, and to inspire them with the
desire to grant me the favours I wished.
A few days before going to Lerma I received letters from Cardinal Dubois
upon my affair. Nobody could be more eager or more earnest than the
Cardinal, for he gave me advice how to arrive at my aim, and pressed me
to look out for everything which could aid me; assuring me that his
letters, and those of M. le Duc d'Orleans, would arrive in time. In the
midst of the perfume of so many flowers, the odour of falsehood could
nevertheless be smelt. I had reckoned upon this. I had done all in my
power to supply the place of these letters. I received therefore not as
gospel, all the marvels Dubois sent me, and I set out for Lerma fully
resolved to more and more cultivate my affair without reckoning upon the
letters promised me; but determined to draw as much advantage from them
as I could.
Upon arriving at Lerma I fell ill as I have described, and the small-pox
kept me confined forty days: The letters so long promised and so long
expected did not arrive until the end of my quarantine. They were just
what I expected. Cardinal Dubois explained himself to Grimaldo in turns
and circumlocution, and if one phrase displayed eagerness and desire, the
next destroyed it by an air of respect and of discretion, protesting he
wished simply what the King of Spain would himself wish, with all the
seasoning necessary for the annihilation of his good offices under the
pretence that he did not wish to press his Majesty to anything or to
importune him.
This written stammering savoured of the bombast of a man who had no
desire to serve me, but who, not daring to break his word, used all his
wits to twist and overrate the little he could not hinder himself from
saying. This letter was simply for Grimaldo, as the letter of M. le Duc
d'Orleans was simply for the King of Spain. The last was even weaker
than the first. It was like a design in pencil nearly effaced by the
rain, and in which nothing, connected appeared. It scarcely touched upon
the real point, but lost itself in respects, in reservations, in
deference, and would propose nothing that was not according to the taste
of the King! In a word, the letter withdrew rather than advanced, and
was a sort of ease-conscience which could not be refused, and which did
not promise much success.
It is easy to understand that these letters much displeased me. Although
I had anticipated all the malice of Cardinal Dubois, I found it exceeded
my calculations, and that it was more undisguised than I imagined it
would be.
Such as the letters were I was obliged to make use of them. The Abbe de
Saint-Simon wrote to Grimaldo and to Sartine, enclosing these letter, for
I myself did not yet dare to write on account of the precautions I was
obliged to use against the bad air. Sartine and Grimaldo, to whom I had
not confided my suspicions that these recommendations would be in a very
weak tone, were thrown into the utmost surprise on reading them.
They argued together, they were indignant, they searched for a bias to
strengthen that which had so much need of strength, but this bias could
not be found; they consulted together, and Grimaldo formed a bold
resolution, which astonished me to the last degree, and much troubled me
also.
He came to the conclusion that these letters would assuredly do me more
harm than good; that they must be suppressed, never spoken of to the
King, who must be confirmed without them in the belief that in according
me these favours he would confer upon M. le Duc d'Orleans a pleasure, all
the greater, because he saw to what point extended all his reserve in not
speaking to him about this matter, and mine in not asking for these
favours through his Royal Highness, as there was every reason to believe
I should do. Grimaldo proposed to draw from these circumstances all the
benefit he proposed to have drawn from the letters had they been written
in a fitting spirit, and he said he would answer for it; I should have
the 'grandesse' and the 'Toison d'Or' without making the slightest
allusion to the cold recommendations of M. le Duc d'Orleans to the King
of Spain, and of Dubois to him.
Sartine, by his order, made this known to the Abbe de Saint-Simon, who
communicated it to me, and after having discussed together with Hyghens,
who knew the ground as well as they, and who had really devoted himself
to me, I blindly abandoned myself to the guidance and friendship of
Grimaldo, with full success, as will be seen.
In relating here the very singular fashion by which my affair succeeded,
I am far indeed from abstracting from M. le Duc d'Orleans all gratitude.
If he had not confided to me the double marriage, without the knowledge
of Dubois, and in spite of the secrecy that had been asked for, precisely
on my account, I should not have been led to beg of him the embassy.
I instantly asked for it, declaring that my sole aim was the grandesse
for my second son, and he certainly accorded it to me with this aim, and
promised to aid me with his recommendation in order to arrive at it, but
with the utmost secrecy on account of the vexation Dubois would feel, and
in order to give himself time to arrange with the minister and induce him
to swallow the pill.
If I had not had the embassy in this manner, it would certainly have
escaped me; and thus would have been lost all hope of the grandesse, to
obtain which there would have been no longer occasion, reason, or means.
The friendship and the confidence of this prince prevailed then over the
witchery which his miserable preceptor had cast upon him, and if he
afterwards yielded to the roguery, to the schemes, to the folly which
Dubois employed in the course of this embassy to ruin and disgrace me,
and to bring about the failure of the sole object which had made me
desire it, we must only blame his villainy and the deplorable feebleness
of M. le Duc d'Orleans, which caused me many sad embarrassments, and did
so much harm, but which even did more harm to the state and to the prince
himself.
It is with this sad but only too true reflection that I finish the year
1721.