CHAPTER XIV

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The princesses consent to the presentation of madame du
Barry—Ingenious artifice employed by the king to offer a
present to the duc de la Vauguyon—Madame du Barry’s letter
respecting it—The duke’s reply—The king’s letter—The
court in despair—Couplets concerning madame du Barry—Her
presentation—A change in public opinion—An evening party
at the house of the countess—Joy of her partizans—
Conversation with the chancellor respecting the lady of the
marÉchal de Mirepoix

The departure of the comtesse de Bercheny was announced to the princesses in the manner least likely to provoke their regrets. Nevertheless, a rumor never slept at Versailles, a whisper was quickly circulated thro’-out the castle, that this sudden and unexpected journey had originated in the king’s weariness of her continual philippics against me; and it was clearly comprehended by all, that a similar disgrace would be the portion of those who should offend the monarch whilst seeking to procure my humiliation. This show of firmness was sufficient to repress the daring flights of those self-constituted heroines, whose courage lasted only whilst the king was silent, and who trembled like a leaf before the slightest manifestation of his will. Still the cabal against me, tho’ weakened, was not destroyed; it was too strong for the present shock to dissolve it; and altho’ none was sufficiently hardy to declare open war, plots were constantly going on to ensnare me.

Meanwhile madame Victoire, left to herself, could not long support such excessive animosity; and the duc de la Vauguyon profiting by the species of lassitude into which she appeared to have fallen, led her without difficulty to act in conformity to the king’s wishes.

There remained now therefore but madame AdÉlaÏde to overcome, and the task became more difficult in proportion to the elevated rank she occupied at court. By priority of birth she held the first place there; and hitherto this superiority had been ceded to her without dispute, more particularly since the hand of death had removed both the queen her mother, and the dauphiness her sister-in-law. She therefore could only view with uneasiness the prospect of another appearing on the stage whose influence would be greater than hers; and who (until the young dauphiness should attain to years of maturity) might deprive her of all honors but those due to her birth. Madame AdÉlaÏde was gifted with good sense, affability of manners, and a kind and compassionating heart towards all who needed her aid; her disposition was good, but she loved dominion, and the least show of resistance to her wishes was painful and offensive to her. She was determined to uphold the duc de Choiseul; and my decided manner towards that minister plainly evinced how little I should feel inclined to support her view of things. There were therefore several reasons for my presence at court being unpleasant to madame AdÉlaÏde.

Against her therefore did the duc de la Vauguyon direct his batteries. She received his attack with the most determined obstinacy; all was in vain, she was unconquerable, and the most skilfully devised plans were insufficient to surmount her resistance; it was therefore necessary to have recourse to the clergy, who were at that time completely led by the Jesuits; each member of the church, up to the archbishop of Paris, was called upon to interfere, or their names were employed in default of their presence. It was pointed out to madame AdÉlaÏde that I possessed good intentions with feelings of religion, which, however stifled by the freedom of the age, only required careful management to produce a rich development. The success of this last mode of attack astonished the duke himself; and madam, dazzled by the hopes of my conversion, as well as weary of hostilities, yielded her consent to my being presented. After these private negotiations the four sisters met at the house of the elder one; and there they decided that since the king had so expressly manifested his pleasure relative to my presentation, they should conform to the desire of their father, by receiving me with every possible mark of courtesy.

The duc de la Vauguyon hastened to communicate to me this happy state of things; and my joy was so great, that I embraced him with the sincerest warmth, assuring him that I should always look upon him as my best friend, and seek to testify my regard at every opportunity that fell in my way of forwarding his interests.

Some days afterwards the king brought me a splendid ring, worth thirty-six thousand livres.

“You must send this jewel to your good friend the duke,” said he.

“I dare not,” replied I. “I fear lest it should draw forth his displeasure.”

“No, no,” cried the king, “‘tis not the fashion at court to construe gifts like this into insults, but I should wish this trifle to be presented in an indirect manner”; and, after having considered a moment, “I have it,” exclaimed he, “I have thought of a clever expedient; let us put this ring upon the finger of that Chinese mandarin before us, and give the figure with the ring, considering it merely an appendage to it. Assuredly the most disinterested man cannot refuse to accept a china figure.”

I extolled the king’s idea as being a most happy one; and he immediately fitted the ring upon the little finger of the mandarin, which I caused to be carried to the duc de la Vauguyon with the following billet:—

“MONSIEUR LE DUC,—You have been my best friend; ‘tis to your kind offices that I owe the confirmation of my happiness; but I would secure the continuance of your valuable friendship, and for that purpose I send you a little magical figure, which, placed in your cabinet, will compel your thoughts to occupy themselves with me in spite of yourself. I am superstitious enough to rely greatly upon the talismanic virtue of the charmed porcelain; and further, I must tell you, that I was not its purchaser in the first instance, neither did I adorn it for your acceptance. I should not have ventured to offer more than the assurance of my everlasting esteem and regard for your acceptance. The trifle sent comes from a higher source; and the august hand so dear to both of us, deigned to preside over the arrangement. Should there be in it anything at all repugnant to your feelings, I beseech you bear me no ill will for it; for truly, I may say, I should never have summoned courage to do that which has just been done by him whom all unite in loving and esteeming.”

* The duke replied,—“Your talisman is welcome; yet its magic power, far from augmenting the warmth of my feelings towards you, would have diminished it on account of a certain accessory with which my friendship could have well dispensed: however, what you say on the subject closes my lips. I gratefully acknowledge the daily favors bestowed upon me from the august hand of whom you speak; and I receive with the deepest respect (mingled with regret) the gracious present he deigns to convey to me by you. I own that I should have preferred, to the splendid jewel which bedecked the finger of your deity, a Chinese counterpart, which might indeed have enabled all admiring gazers to say, ‘these two are truly a pair.’ As for yourself, who would fain pass for nobody in the munificent gift, I thank you at least for the flattering place you assign me in your recollection. Be assured I feel its full value, and you may confidently reckon upon the disposal of my poor credit as well as command the little influence I may be said to possess in the castle. Adieu, madame, I entreat your acceptance of the expression of my most sincere and respectful devotion.”

The king, having read M. de la Vauguyon’s letter, sent immediately to the china manufactory to purchase the fellow mandarin so much coveted by the duke, and caused it to be conveyed to him with the following words:—

“MY DEAR GOVERNOR—You are a kind-hearted creature I know, and a great promoter of domestic harmony; to fain unite the wife with the husband. Heaven grant that such a measure may indeed bring about your proposed felicity! However, by way of furthering your schemes, I send the Chinese lady, whose beauty I trust will not disturb your repose, for in spite of your sanctity, I know you can be as gallant as the rest of us, and possibly this beautiful mandarin may prove to be more lovely in your eyes, than in those of the husband for whom she is destined; but, in sober earnestness, I would wish you to be convinced that my intention is not to attempt payment for the services rendered me, but simply to evince my sense of their value. There is one beside me at this moment who has given me a kiss to transmit to you—You will easily guess who has had the audacity to enlist me into her service upon such an occasion.”

This was one of the recompenses offered to the duc de la Vauguyon, as a compensation for the public clamor and dislike which sprung up against him in consequence of his zeal for my service. At Versailles, the general ferment was at its height, when it became generally known that I had triumphed over all obstacles, and that my presentation was certainly to take place. In the midst of all this the desperate odium fell upon the duc de la Vauguyon, and a general attack was made upon him: his virtues, reputation, talents, qualities, were made the subject of blame and scandal—in a word, he was run down by public opinion. But the leaders of the cabal were not the less struck by the news of my success, which sounded in their ears like the falling of a thunder-bolt.

The silly princess de GuemÉnÉ, who, with her husband, has since become a bankrupt to so enormous and scandalous an amount, flew without delay to convey the tidings of my victory to the duchesse de Grammont, to whom it was a death-blow. All her courage forsook her; she shed bitter tears, and displayed a weakness so much the more ridiculous, as it seemed to arise from the utmost despair. She repaired to madame AdÉlaÏde, before whom she conducted herself in the most absurd and extravagant manner. The poor princess, intimidated by the weakness she herself evinced, in drawing back after she had in a manner espoused the opposite party, durst not irritate her, but, on the contrary, strove to justify her own change of conduct towards me, by urging the impossibility of refusing obedience to the express command of the king.

The other princesses did not evince greater firmness when overwhelmed by the complaints of the cabal, and in a manner bent their knee before the wives of the French nobility, asking their pardon for their father’s error in selecting a mistress from any rank but theirs. About this period a song, which I admired greatly, was circulated abroad. My enemies interpreted it to my disadvantage, but I was far from being of the same opinion. It was successively attributed to the most clever men in Paris, and I have myself met with four who each asserted himself to be the author; in justice it should be ascribed to him who appeared the most calculated to have written it, and who indeed claimed it for his own—the chevalier de Boufflers. I do not know whether you recollect the lines in question. I will transcribe them from memory, adding another couplet, which was only known amongst our own particular circle, but which proves most incontestably the spirit of kindness with which the stanzas were composed.

Lise, ta beautÉ sÉduit,
Et charme tout le monde.
En vain la duchesse en rougit,
Et la princesse en gronde,
Chacun sait que VÉnus naquit
De l’ecume de l’onde.

En rit-elle moins tous les dieux.
Lui rendre un juste hommage!
Et Paris, le berger fameux,
Lui donner l’avantage
MÊme sur la reine des cieux
Et Minerve la sage?

Dans le sÉrail du grand seigneur.
Quelle est la favorite?
C’est la plus belle au grÉ de coeur
Du maitre qui l’habite.
C’est le seul titre en sa faveur
Et c’est le vrai mÉrite.

Que Grammont tonne contre toi,
La chose est naturelle.
Elle voudrait donner la loi
Et n’est qu’ une mortelle;
Il faut, pour plaire au plus grand roi,
Sans orgueil etre belle.*

*From those readers who may understand this chanson in the
original, and look somewhat contemptuously on the following
version, the translator begs to shelter himself under the
well-known observation of Lord Chesterfield, “that
everything suffers by translation, but a a bishop!” Those
to whom such a dilution is necessary will perhaps be
contented with the skim-milk as they cannot get the cream.—TRANS.

Thy beauty, seductress, leads mortals astray, Over hearts, Lise, how vast and resistless thy sway. Cease, duchess, to blush! cease, princess, to rave—Venus sprang from the foam of the ocean wave. All the gods pay their homage at her beauteous shrine, And adore her as potent, resistless, divine! To her Paris, the shepherd, awarded the prize, Sought by Juno the regal, and Pallas the wise.

Who rules o’er her lord in the Turkish serail, Reigns queen of his heart, and e’er basks in his smile? ‘Tis she, who resplendent, shines loveliest of all, And beauty holds power in her magic thrall. Then heed not the clamors that Grammont may raise, How natural her anger! how vain her dispraise! ‘Tis not a mere mortal our monarch can charm, Free from pride is the beauty that bears off the palm.

This song was to be found in almost every part of France. Altho’ the last couplet was generally suppressed, so evident was its partial tone towards me, in the midst of it all I could not help being highly amused with the simplicity evinced by the good people of France, who, in censuring the king’s conduct, found nothing reprehensible but his having omitted to select his mistress from elevated rank.

The citizens resented this falling off in royalty with as much warmth and indignation as the grandees of the court; and I could enjoy a laugh on the subject of their angry displeasure as soon as my presentation was decided upon.

The intrigues carried on by those about the princesses, and the necessity of awaiting the perfect recovery of madame de Bearn, delayed this (to me) important day till the end of the month of April, 1770. On the evening of the 21st the king, according to custom, announced a presentation for the following day; but he durst not explain himself more frankly; he hesitated, appeared embarrassed, and only pronounced my name in a low and uncertain voice; it seemed as tho’ he feared his own authority was insufficient to support him in such a measure. This I did not learn till some time afterwards; and when I did hear it, I took the liberty of speaking my opinion upon it freely to his majesty.

On the next day, the 22d, I was solely engrossed with my dress: it was the most important era of my life, and I would not have appeared on it to any disadvantage. A few days previously, the king had sent me, by the crown jeweller, Boemer, a set of diamonds, valued at 150,000 livres, of which he begged my acceptance. Delighted with so munificent a present I set about the duties of the toilette with a zeal and desire of pleasing which the importance of the occasion well excused. I will spare you the description of my dress; were I writing to a woman I would go into all these details; but as I know they would not be to your taste, I will pass all these uninteresting particulars over in silence, and proceed to more important matter.

Paris and Versailles were filled with various reports. Thro’out the city, within, without the castle, all manner of questions were asked, as tho’ the monarchy itself was in danger. Couriers were dispatched every instant with fresh tidings of the great event which was going on. A stranger who had observed the general agitation would easily have remarked the contrast between the rage and consternation of my enemies and the joy of my partizans, who crowded in numbers to the different avenues of the palace, in order to feast their eyes upon the pageantry of my triumphal visit to court.

Nothing could surpass the impatience with which I was expected; hundreds were counting the minutes, whilst I, under the care of my hairdresser and robemaker, was insensible to the rapid flight of time, which had already carried us beyond the hour appointed for my appearance. The king himself was a prey to an unusual uneasiness; the day appeared to him interminable; and the eagerness with which he awaited me made my delay still more apparent. A thousand conjectures were afloat as to the cause of it. Some asserted that my presentation had been deferred for the present, and, in all probability, would never take place; that the princesses had opposed it in the most decided manner, and had refused upon any pretense whatever to admit me to their presence. All these suppositions charmed my enemies, and filled them with hopes which their leaders, better informed, did not partake.

Meanwhile the king’s restlessness increased; he kept continually approaching the window to observe what was going on in the court-yard of the castle, and seeing there no symptoms of my equipage being in attendance, began to lose both temper and patience. It has been asserted, that he gave orders to have the presentation put off till a future period, and that the duc de Richelieu procured my entrÉe by force; this is partly true and partly false. Whilst in ignorance of the real cause of my being so late, the king said to the first gentleman of the chamber,

“You will see that this poor countess has met with some accident, or else that her joy has been too much for her, and made her too ill to attend our court to-day; if that be the case, it is my pleasure that her presentation should not be delayed beyond to-morrow.”

“Sire,” replied the duke, “your majesty’s commands are absolute.”

These words, but half understood, were eagerly caught up, and interpreted their own way by those who were eager to seize anything that might tell to my prejudice.

At length I appeared; and never had I been more successful in appearance. I was conducted by my godmother, who, decked like an altar, was all joy and satisfaction to see herself a sharer in such pomp and splendor. The princesses received me most courteously; the affability, either real or feigned, which shone in their eyes as they regarded me, and the flattering words with which they welcomed my arrival, was a mortal blow to many of the spectators, especially to the ladies of honor. The princesses would not suffer me to bend my knee before them, but at the first movement I made to perform this act of homage, they hastened to raise me, speaking to me at the same time in the most gracious manner.

But my greatest triumph was with the king. I appeared before him in all my glory, and his eyes declared in a manner not to be misunderstood by all around him the impetuous love which he felt for me. He had threatened the previous evening to let me fall at his feet without the least effort on his part to prevent it. I told him that I was sure his gallantry would not allow him to act in this manner; and we had laid a bet on the matter. As soon as I approached him, and he took my hand to prevent me, as I began to stoop before him, “You have lost, sire,” said I to him.

“How is it possible to preserve my dignity in the presence of so many graces?” was his reply.

These gracious words of his majesty were heard by all around him. My enemies were wofully chagrined; but what perfected their annihilation was the palpable lie which my appearance gave to their false assertions. They had blazoned forth everywhere that my manners were those of a housemaid; that I was absurd and unladylike in my conduct; and that it was only requisite to have a glimpse of me to recognize both the baseness of my extraction, and the class of society in which my life had been hitherto spent.

But I showed manners so easy and so elegant that the people soon shook off their preconceived prejudice against me. I heard my demeanor lauded as greatly as my charms and the splendor of my attire. Nothing could be more agreeable to me. In a word, I obtained complete success, and thenceforward learnt experimentally how much the exterior and a noble carriage add to the consideration in which a person is held. I have seen individuals of high rank and proud behavior who carried no influence in their looks, because their features were plain and common place; whilst persons of low station, whose face was gifted with natural dignity, had only to show themselves to attract the respect of the multitude.

Nothing about me bespoke that I was sprung from a vulgar stock, and thus scandal of that kind ceased from the day of my presentation; and public opinion having done me justice in this particular, slander was compelled to seek for food elsewhere.

That evening I had a large circle at my house. The chancellor, the bishop of Orleans, M. de Saint-Florentin, M. Bertin, the prince de Soubise, the ducs de Richelieu, de la Trimouille, de Duras, d’Aiguillon, and d’Ayen. This last did not hesitate to come to spy out all that passed in my apartments, that he might go and spread it abroad, augmented by a thousand malicious commentaries. I had also M. de Sartines, my brother-in-law, etc. The duc de la Vauguyon alone was absent. I knew beforehand that he would not come, and that it was a sacrifice which he thought himself compelled to make to the cabal. The ladies were mesdames de Bearn and d’Aloigny, with my sisters-in-law. Amongst the ladies presented they were the only ones with whom I had formed any intimacy; as for the rest I was always the “horrible creature,” of whom they would not hear on any account.

The king, on entering, embraced me before the whole party. “You are a charming creature,” said he to me, “and the brilliancy of your beauty has to-day reminded me of the device of my glorious ancestor.”

This was a flattering commencement; the rest of the company chimed in with their master, and each tried to take the first part in the chorus. The duc d’Ayen even talked of my grace of manner. “Ah, sir,” said I to him, “I have had time to learn it from Pharamond to the reigning king.”

This allusion was bitter, and did not escape the duke, who turned pale in spite of his presence of mind, on finding that I was aware of the malicious repartee which he had made to the king when talking of me, and which I have already mentioned to you. The chancellor said to me,

“You have produced a great effect, but especially have you triumphed over the cabal by the nobility of your manners and the dignity of your mien; and thus you have deprived it of one of its greatest engines of mischief, that of calumniating your person.”

“They imagined then,” said I to him, “that I could neither speak nor be silent, neither walk nor sit still.”

“As they wished to find you ignorant and awkward they have set you down as such. This is human nature: when we hate any one, we say they are capable of any thing; then, that they have become guilty of every thing; and, to wind up all, they adopt for truth to-day what they invented last night.”

“Were you not fearful?” inquired the king.

“Forgive me, sire,” I answered, “when I say that I feared lest I should not please your majesty; and I was excessively desirous of convincing mesdames of my respectful attachment.”

This reply was pronounced to be fitting and elegant, altho’ I had not in any way prepared it. The fact is, that I was in great apprehension lest I should displease the king’s daughters; and I dreaded lest they should manifest too openly the little friendship which they had towards me. Fortunately all passed off to a miracle, and my good star did not burn dimly in this decisive circumstance.

Amongst those who rejoiced at my triumph I cannot forget the duc d’Aiguillon. During the whole of the day he was in the greatest agitation. His future destiny was, in a measure, attached to my fortune; he knew that his whole existence depended on mine; and he expected from me powerful support to defend him against the pack of his enemies, who were yelping open-mouthed against him. He stood in need of all his strength of mind and equanimity to conceal the disquietude and perplexity by which he was internally agitated.

The comte Jean also participated in this great joy. His situation at court was not less doubtful; he had no longer reason to blush for his alliance with me, and could now form, without excess of presumption, the most brilliant hopes of the splendor of his house. His son, the vicomte Adolphe, was destined to high fortune; and I assure you that I deeply regretted when a violent and premature death took him away from his family. My presentation permitted his father to realize the chimera which he had pursued with so much perseverance. He flattered himself in taking part with me. I did not forget him in the distribution of my rewards; and the king’s purse was to him a source into which he frequently dipped with both hands.

The next day I had a visit from the chancellor.

“Now,” said he, “you are at the height of your wishes, and we must arrange matters, that the king shall find perpetual and varied amusements, with you. He does not like large parties; a small circle is enough for him; then he is at his ease, and likes to see the same faces about him. If you follow my advice you will have but few females about you, and select that few with discernment.”

“How can I choose them at all when I see so very few?” was my reply. “I have no positive intimacy with any court lady; and amongst the number I should be at a loss to select any one whom I would wish to associate with in preference to another.”

“Oh, do not let that disturb you,” he replied: “they leave you alone now, because each is intent on observing what others may do; but as soon as any one shall pay you a visit, the others will run as fast after you as did the sheep of Panurge. I am greatly deceived if they are not very desirous that one of them shall devote herself, and make the first dash, that they may profit by her pretended fault. I know who will not be the last to come and station herself amongst the furniture of your apartment. The marÉchale de Mirepoix was too long the complaisant friend of madame de Pompadour not to become, and that very soon, the friend of the comtesse du Barry.”

“Good heaven,” I exclaimed, “how delighted I should be to have the friendship of this lady, whose wit and amiable manners are so greatly talked of.”

“Yes,” said de Maupeou, laughing, “she is a type of court ladies, a mixture of dignity and suppleness, majesty and condescension, which is worth its weight in gold. She was destined from all eternity to be the companion of the king’s female friends.”

We both laughed; and the chancellor went on to say: “There are others whom I will point out to you by and by; as for this one, I undertake to find out whether she will come first of the party. She has sent to ask an audience of me concerning a suit she has in hand. I will profit by the circumstances to come to an explanation with her, about you. She is not over fond of the Choiseul party; and I augur this, because I see that she puts on a more agreeable air towards them.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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