Some military men in France enjoy considerable incomes only for having

been in five or six battles, whilst the subjects of the state have

ruined themselves in defraying the expences of the war. Thus do abuses

creep into the best foundations.

After settling the pensions, the next thing taken in hand was to

retrieve the finances from the terrible disorder into which they were

fallen. They who understood the history of France affirmed, that for

twenty reigns past the kingdom had never been so distressed; and the

national debt being immense, a plan for the discharge of them became

absolutely necessary. A sinking fund was projected, but when funds were

to be appointed for the sinking-fund, those of the crown were found to

be all mortgaged. I myself was a witness to his majesty’s great

uneasiness, when the ministers and counsellors of state laid open to him

the condition of things. _Gentlemen_, said he to them, _you had better

have advised me against the war, than to make it on such burthensome

conditions_. Some taxes were taken off; but several imposts, created for

the charges of the war, were continued after the peace, &c. &c.

Such was the situation of France after the definitive treaty of

Aix-la-Chapelle. The domestic affairs of the crown were in no better

condition. The ministers had, during the war, assumed an unlimited

authority, made themselves despotic in their offices, and behaved

towards the subjects with that austerity which is the result of

uncontrouled power.

Whilst all Europe was congratulating itself on the general peace, advice

came to Versailles that the English were very angry with George the

Second, for having agreed to the French proposals. The parliament

addressed him for a copy of the overtures for a general pacification, to

be laid before the house.

Marshal Saxe being present when this was related to the king, said,

_Sir, those Englishmen must be very quarrelsome; they have made a peace

with us, and having now no enemy, they are for quarrelling with their

King_. I have heard very knowing politicians say, that the divisions in

Great Britain between the subjects and the Prince, are the basis of the

general tranquillity of Europe.

However, on the peace, the face of Versailles was quite changed; that

solicitous look which throws a shade even on diversions was quite

vanished; the hurry of business had ceased, and the king was now come to

himself. This tranquility of the court caused a great agitation in the

city; several women began to form designs on the King’s heart.

Among these was one Madame la Poupeliniere, married to a financier, who

had raised her from the dirt, from whence he himself likewise sprung.

They had a most delightful and splendid seat at Passy, which was always

crowded with the worst company.

I have been often told, that this woman would faint away whenever my

name happened to be mentioned. She used to say, that I had thrust myself

into her rank at court, that I held her place about the king, and that

all the honours paid to me at Versailles, of right belonged to her. She

would, at any rate, be Lewis the Fifteenth’s mistress.

This was a scheme put into her head by the Duke de Richelieu; mean time

he practised on her heart, to give it a turn for tenderness. This

intrigue was carried on with an air of mystery. The Duke used, at

nights, to convey himself into the lady’s chamber through an opening

contrived in the chimney; and this opening Richelieu assured her should,

in no long time, conduct her to the little apartments of Versailles. In

the interim, this creature, to make herself more worthy of the

Sovereign, prostituted herself to one of his subjects; but a

chambermaid, in a fit of resentment, discovered the whole mystery. The

financier, who had for some time wanted to get rid of his wife, gladly

embraced this opportunity; he made the public witness to his infamy, so

that all Paris flocked to see the ungrateful perfidy of this ambitious

woman.

The gallant perhaps, now no less satiated than the husband, made very

light of the discovery; and came to Versailles, not imagining that the

court as yet knew any thing of the matter; but I had intelligence of his

adventure an hour before it was made public. The King was alone in my

apartment when he came in; _Sir_, (said I to him) _there is not in all

Europe a more close agent in amorous intrigues than his Grace of

Richelieu there before you; for to be the more secret with the ladies

whom he would bring acquainted with your Majesty, he visits them through

the chimney_. The King asked me what I meant; I immediately unfolded the

riddle to him, which set us a laughing, and Richelieu himself laughed as

much as any.

Other women likewise laid out for the little apartments at Versailles,

and got into them without going under ground. Lewis XV. was very fond of

these flighty amours, of which possession is both the beginning and end.

But his humours did not in the least abate the affection with which he

honoured me, always returning to me more constant than ever.

Since the peace, the Count de Maurepas took a pleasure in censuring

every thing that was done at court, and giving it a ridiculous turn.

This minister had his private suppers like the King himself; and here it

was where, every night, the crown was turned into drollery.

Several disputes had passed between us since my living at Versailles,

and in which he had used me with much pride and haughtiness; his passion

made him forget his rank, and use words quite unbecoming such a man as

he. I slightly intimated it to the King, being unwilling to hurt a man

who was of use to the state.

It has been given out, that my very first design on my coming to

Versailles was to supplant this minister. Now that such a thought should

have come into my mind, is not possible. The King, in giving me a

character of his chief ministers, spoke with great approbation of the

Count de Maurepas, which alone was sufficient to make me take a liking

to him. But a close assiduity in dry and difficult affairs, for above

thirty years successively, had extremely soured his temper, so that at

times no body durst go near him. M. le Guai, his first clerk, told me,

that in those moments he was bristled like a porcupine; his harshness

infected his correspondence, scolding those who were a thousand leagues

from him, and treating them without any regard to their rank and

character. He wrote to the French consul, at one of the Levant ports, in

the following manner:

“I order you, Sir, to write to me no more, but repair to France in

the first ship; and come to Paris, where you are to wait my orders,

without appearing at court.

I am, &c.”

His caustic temper mingled itself even with his feasts, and would break

out even in the midst of pleasure and sociality. It was in these parties

that he was most fluent and licentious in satire. I was one day

informed, that he had spoken against me in very indecent terms, and had

even brought in the King. I at first determined flatly to complain to

his Majesty, but on reflection I chose to write to himself.

“_Sir, I am informed of your scandalous speeches concerning me, and

even the King your master. As for what you say of me, it gives me

no manner of concern; but I cannot overlook any scurrility on the

King. I value his reputation; and be assured, that if you do not

alter your behaviour toward him, I shall lay it before him, and you

must expect the punishment which such an offence deserves._

_I am, &c._”

All the effect of this letter was, that it increased his malignity

towards me, saying to those who were at supper with him; _Now,

Gentlemen, my disgrace is surely at hand, Pompadour threatens me_: then,

reassuming his gravity, he added, by way of reflection, _See what

Versailles is come to_; _the very women of pleasure pretend to domineer

there_. These words were precisely reported to me; however, I took no

notice of them; but some time after, this minister, amidst his cups,

sang some scandalous couplets against the King himself, and before a

great deal of company. Of this insolence I informed his Majesty, and he

was ordered to quit the court.

His exile making a great noise in the world, and a construction being

put on it which affected his probity and character, I begged of the King

to declare in public, that he was satisfied with his conduct. His

Majesty did so; and let this serve as a specimen of his temper; a

prince, after being insolently ridiculed by a subject who owed him great

obligations, still vouchsafed to shew tenderness for him.

The government was at a loss for a person fit to succeed M. Maurepas at

the head of the marine, as now it was become a state mystery. It had

been under Maurepas’s sole management during thirty years. M. Rouillé

was pitched on, though no great genius; but he had formed specious

plans, and assured the King that within three years he should have a

navy of fourscore ships of the line. _I wish_, said the King, _he may

make his words good, but I much fear he will fall very short_.

Italy was perfectly at ease; the infant Don Philip had made his entrance

into Parma: we heard at Versailles that he lived very gaily there amid

concerts, plays, and balls. _I am afraid_, said the King, _that young

Prince is too fond of balls, and my daughter will be perpetually

dancing_.

M. de Noailles used to say, that _every country dance of Don Philip, in

Italy, cost Spain a hundred thousand livres; and his mother had paid the

fiddlers before-hand_.

The Duke of Modena was restored to his dominions, and had all Don

Philip’s passion for splendour and entertainments; but the war had

ruined him: the Duchess used to say openly, in the palace, _his Highness

has not wherewith to make one single minuet step_. She came to court

without shoes, to shew the King the indigence to which the war had

reduced their duchy. _Madam_, said his Majesty to her, _I am not in a

much better condition myself; but I have a shoe-maker, who, if you

please, shall wait on you_.

Genoa was free, subject only to its own government, now re-established

on its ancient footing. The ambassador from the court of Vienna, meeting

that senate’s envoy in the great gallery of Versailles, said to him;

_Sir, the house of Austria forgives your republic its revolution, only

intends to be up with it_.

Rome was at rest, the foreign armies which, during the war, had been

such a burden and terror to it, being withdrawn.

Naples, now no longer under a necessity of exhausting itself of men and

money, was beginning to recover: all it stood in need of, was only quiet

enjoyment of its fertile soil and climate. Concerning this small state,

I remember a foreign minister once said to me, that _if ever he had been

so ambitious as to aim at a sovereignty, it would not be that of

Germany, France, or Spain, but to be King of Naples_. His reason was,

that _there the power was derived directly from heaven; and is the

immediate gift of God the Father himself_.

The nobility still complained at court of having greatly hurt their

fortunes in the war, and were continually solliciting compensations and

rewards.

The Prince of Conti, lately created Grand Prior of France, said openly,

that his horses had no hay. _I wonder_, said Marshal Belleisle, _they

are not yet dead, for so long ago as when we were at Coni, his Highness

used to complain of the scarcity of forage_.

Lewis XV. did all he could to repair the fortunes of the great by posts,

pensions, or governments; but he had a greater concern on his hands,

which was to repair that of the nation.

I remember once he mildly said to some, who were unbecomingly urgent,

that he would take care of them; _Have a little patience, I will provide

for all as far as possible; but before I attend to private houses, the

great family of the state must be provided for_. Another time he said,

before the whole court, to a groupe of officers who talked much of their

campaigns, and asked rewards: _Gentlemen, you have indeed done me great

services in the war, but it is my desire you will do me still a greater

in peace, which is to allow me first to ease those who have borne the

whole weight of the war. You only lent a hand_, _but they have

exhausted their whole substance in it_, &c. &c.

Marshal Belleisle was not overlooked; besides pensions, ranks, and

honours heaped on him, all the bodies of the state, as it were, strove

which should pay him the greatest marks of respect. The French Academy

itself, on his leaving Paris to go to his government, composed a formal

harangue, proving him the deliverer of France. A man of wit has called

the members of the French academy _the most elegant liars in Europe_.

The new naval minister was busily searching for timber, seamen, and

money, all over the provinces; but he looked for what was not to be

found. On his return to Versailles, appeared the following memorial, by

an unknown hand.

MEMORIAL on the MARINE.

“FRANCE should not think of forming a navy gradually; such a plan is

impracticable; for the English, who have an eye to the building of

every ship we put on the stocks, and build additional ships in

proportion, thereby always secure a superiority.

“Thus Great Britain having, at present, a hundred ships of the line more

than France, will consequently always exceed us by that number, were we

to build three hundred ships of war within ten years.

“We have often set about forming a navy, but our endeavours have always

been defeated by the Britons. They have taken our ships in times of

profound peace, and declared themselves our enemies by sea, before any

war had commenced; their vigilance in preventing any thing which might

affect the superiority of their navy, pays no regard to justice or good

faith. A King of England would be immediately dethroned by his subjects,

should he be for adhering to the treaties made with France. It is a

tacit maxim with that nation, that a treaty is to subsist only whilst

France builds no ships.

“Time, which to all other disorders of government brings a remedy, here

renders the disease incurable: building therefore is too slow a way;

they know at London the very day when any ship of war is finished, and

when to be launched.

“This part of political strength must be formed at once, and unknown to

the admiralty of England. We should without delay apply to Holland,

Denmark, the republic of Genoa, and Venice; and there, at once, purchase

a proper number of ships; and if those states cannot fully supply us,

there is Malta, Algiers, Tripoli, Constantinople, &c. No matter from

what nation we have ships, or how they are built, if they will but hold

men and guns.

“Herein the strictest secrecy must be observed, and the purchases all

punctually made at one and the same appointed time; for should the

English get any intelligence of our design, they would either by open

force, or negotiation, prevent any such purchase.

“The want of seamen still remains; but here again we may supply

ourselves by the same method. In time of peace, the Maritime powers have

a great many more seamen than they want; it is only making good offers

to those men; for the sailor, like the soldier, is for the best bidder;

his natural Prince is money, &c. &c.”

M. Rouillé, on reading this memorial, said, _The author has forgot the

main thing, money. He would have us purchase a navy all at once, but

does not provide wherewith to pay for it at once_.

A statesman has often observed, that most of the projects offered at the

court of France are deficient in the very foundation. The schemer writes

on in prosecution of his notions, till meeting a rock, when all his

specious reasonings are wrecked.

M. de Belleisle told me that, in his closet, he had hundreds of memoirs

for increasing the revenue and the national wealth, inscribed to him by

the finest genius’s of the kingdom; and that he might perhaps publish

them with this title, _A collection of very fine, and very useless

projects_. “Idle people, said he, often have thoughts which the business

of placemen does not allow them to have:” and added, “that though

memorial writers do not always make good their points, yet their

strictures often put others on effectual improvements.”

After the peace, the King had sent the Duke de Mirepoix to London: on

which Marshal Saxe said, that this nobleman was perfectly fit for the

embassy, having a very handsome leg, and dancing prettily, which might

be of good consequence in a court which delighted in balls. The reasons

which induced the King to this choice, have always been unknown to me.

He never so much as mentioned it to me till it was done. A very

intelligent man, whom the king had often employed in state affairs, said

to me, at that time, “that M. de Mirepoix was neither supple nor

complaisant enough for the English; neither was he sufficiently

acquainted with the respective interests of the two nations: besides,

continued he, he has a great defect for an ambassador, he is too honest,

so that the English will impose on him.” He might perhaps have added,

with equal truth, that he had not a capacity equal to that employment.

M. de Mirepoix had spent his youth in diversions, and the latter part of

his life in war; now the science of negotiation is not learnt either at

the play-house or in the camp.

This minister’s constant note was, that the court of St. James’s was

perfectly pleased with the peace, and all its thoughts turned on the

enjoyment of it. He indeed wrote no more than he believed; for George

the Second made him believe whatever he pleased.

The English minister at Paris was my Lord Albemarle, like ours, no great

negociator. He had been taught his lesson by heart before he left

London, and when at Versailles only repeated it. On any representation

of the court of France being informed that the British court was making

military preparations, he answered, that it was a mistake. This M. de

Puisieux was continually saying to him, and his answer was ever the

same. English policy is much more easy than the French, having but one

path; so that when once a British minister has got into it, he need but

go straight on.

I saw this minister sometimes; he spoke our language better than common,

and expressed himself even with energy. He loved expence, and lived

nobleman-like, but he appeared to me to have one fault, though indeed it

is common to all the English; his very prodigalities had somthing of

parsimony in them. George the Second, who had a great kindness for him,

supplied his expences; for though he lived so high, he was very poor: an

Englishman, who had known him at London, speaking of his arrival at

Paris, said, “My Lord will get a mistress there, run in debt, and die by

some accident.” The prophecy was fully accomplished: He lived with a

girl, borrowed large sums, and died suddenly.

Lewis XV. was more constantly with me than ever; I had brought him to a

custom of seeing me every day, and never spending less than five or six

hours in my apartment: I accompanied him in all the journies, and had my

apartments in all the royal seats. The more I became acquainted with his

Majesty, the more I perceived the exceeding goodness of his heart.

My husband loudly complained of my living at Versailles, and wrote to me

a very passionate letter, full of reproaches against me, and still more

against the King; amidst other indiscreet terms, calling him tyrant. As

I was reading this letter, the King came into my apartment; I

immediately thrust it into my pocket; the emotion with which I received

his Majesty, shewed me to be under some disorder; I was for concealing

the cause, but on his repeated instances, I put my husband’s letter into

his hands. He read it through without the least sign of resentment: I

assured him that I had no share in his temerity; and the better to

convince him of it, desired that he would punish the writer severely.

_No, Madam_, said he to me, with that air of goodness which is so

natural to him, _your husband is unhappy, and should rather be pitied_.

History does not afford a like passage of moderation in an injured King.

My spouse, on being informed of it, left the kingdom to travel.

Though the peace had diffused quiet through Europe, it caused violent

agitations in the political bodies of France. The parliament of Paris,

amidst its many remonstrances to Lewis XV. exhorted him in a very fine

speech, to take off the _twentieth denier_. The deputies of that body

expressed themselves in this manner:

_So many millions of men now in indigence, stand in need of immediate

ease and relief; whereas, should they be still obliged to pay the

twentieth denier, they will be quite unable to lift up their heads

again, and repair their shattered fortune, and hence a general

despondency._

_Whole families will be reduced to the most dreadful distress, and thus

be afraid of leaving behind them a numerous issue, which would be a

burden to them whilst living, and to whom they can transmit no other

inheritance than their wretchedness._

_The number of children, who are the hope and support of the state, will

be continually decreasing, the villages will be thinned, trade languish,

and the culture of land in a great measure at a stand. The ruin of the

farmers will necessarily be followed by that of the nobility, as their

estates will suffer a very considerable diminution; and thus these

people, and that brave nobility, whose valour is their soul and chief

resource, will be involved in one common ruin._

Count Saxe used to call the deputies of the parliament the great-chamber

pedants. _They are for teaching the administration_, says he, _what it

knows better than themselves. They are always harping on the distempers

of the state, without any word of a remedy._ Once, as the first

president was delivering a pathetic harangue before the King, proving

the necessity of lessening the weight of the taxes, his Majesty cut him

short with these words: _Mr. President, let but the parliament enable me

to pay off the state debts, and defray the present expences of the

Monarchy, and very readily will I abolish every, tax, duty, and impost._

A man of wit, and who knows the French temper, used to say, that these

useless representations were become necessary, as keeping up the

people’s spirits, who, without a declared Protector, would think

themselves for ever undone.

In Cardinal de Fleury’s indolent ministry, and the subsequent wars, the

government had not been able to take into consideration an abuse which

manifestly tended to dispeople the monarchy. Religion, in all wise

governments, a source of population, was thinning the human species. All

France was mouldering away in convents: every town and village had

numerous communities of girls, who made vows against having children.

The following letter, which I received from a nun at Lyons, and

communicated to the King, occasioned deliberations for reforming this

abuse.

“MADAM,

“I was at first for writing to the Pope, but, on farther

reflection, I thought it would be full as well to apply to you. The

point is this: when I was but seven years of age, my parents shut

me up in the convent where I now am; and on my entering into my

fifteenth year, two nuns signified to me an order to take the veil.

I deferred complying for some time; for though quite a stranger to

every thing but the house I was in, yet I suspected there must be

another kind of world than the convent, and another state than that

of a nun; but the sister of _Jesus’s heart_, our mother, in order

to fix my call, said to me, that all women who married were damned,

because they lie with a man, and bore children: this set me

a-crying most bitterly for my poor mother, as burning eternally in

hell for having brought me into the world.

“I took the veil; but now that I am twenty years of age, and my

constitution formed, I daily feel that I am not made for this

state, and think I want something; and that something, or I am much

mistaken, is a husband.

“My talking continually of matrimony sets the community a-madding;

the sister of the _Holy Ghost_ tells me, that I am Jesus Christ’s

spouse; but, for my part, I feel myself much inclined to a second

marriage with a man.

“On a young girl’s coming into a convent, half a dozen wheedlers

get about her, and never leave her till they have persuaded her to

take the veil. Children are buried every day in monasteries, whilst

their early age does not admit of any solid reflections on the vows

they are drawn to make.

Memoirs of the Marchioness of Pompadour (vol. 1 of 2) · 第 5 / 9 段