The interference of madame de Mirepoix, originating, as it did, in the duc de Choiseul, let me at once into the secret of his fears and the extent of my own power. The knowledge of the weakness of my adversary redoubled my energy; and from this moment, I allowed no day to pass without forwarding the great work, till I succeeded in effecting the duke’s ruin and securing my own triumph. The pamphleteers in the pay of my enemies, and those who merely copied these hirelings, assert that one evening after supper, when Louis was intoxicated with wine and my seductions, I prevailed upon him to sign a lettre de cachet against his minister, which he immediately revoked when the break of day had restored to him his senses. This was a malicious falsehood. You shall hear the exact manner in which the lettres de cachet were signed.

On the evening of the 23d of December, his majesty having engaged to sup with me, I had invited M. de Maupeou, the duc de la VrilliÈre, and the prince de Soubise. It appears, that the king, previously to coming, had gone to visit the dauphiness; he had not mentioned whither he was going, so that his attendants believed him to be in my apartments, and directed M. d’Oigny, post-master general, to seek him there. The baron brought with him a packet of opened letters; when he saw me alone he wished to retire, for the servants, believing him to be one of the expected guests, had ushered him in. However, I would not permit him to go until the king’s arrival; and, half sportively, half seriously, I took from him his letters, protesting I would detain them as hostages for his obedience to my desires. At this moment Louis XV entered the room; and M. d’Oigny, having briefly stated his business, bowed and departed. The baron was a very excellent man, possessing an extensive and intelligent mind; he wrote very pleasing poetry, and had not his attention been occupied by the post he filled, he might have made a conspicuous figure in literature.

When we were left to ourselves, I said to the king,

“Now, then, for this interesting and amusing budget; for such, I doubt not, it will prove.”

“Not so fast, madam, if you please,” replied Louis XV; “perhaps these papers may contain state secrets unfit for your eye.”

“Great secrets they must be,” said I, laughing, “confided thus to the carelessness of the post.” So saying, I broke the seal of the envelope so hastily, that the greater part of the letters and notes were scattered over the carpet.

“I entreat your majesty’s pardon,” said I, “but I will repair the mischief as far as I can.”

I stooped to collect the fallen papers, and the king had the gallantry to assist me: we soon piled the various letters upon a tray, and began eagerly to glance over their contents. My good fortune made me select from the mass those epistles addressed to the members of the country parliaments; they were filled with invectives against me, insulting mention of the king, and praises of the duc de Choiseul. I took especial care to read them in a loud and distinct voice.

“This really is not to be endured,” cried Louis XV; “that the mistaken zeal of these long-robed gentlemen should make them thus compliment my minister at my expense.”

“So much the worse for you, sire,” replied I, “considering that you continue to prefer your minister to every other consideration.”

As I continued searching through the letters, I found and read the following phrase:—“Spite of the reports in circulation, I do not believe it possible that M. de Choiseul will be dismissed; he is too necessary to the king, who, without him would be as incapable as a child of managing his affairs: his majesty must preserve our friend in office in spite of himself.”

When I had finished, the king exclaimed, in an angry tone, “We shall see how far the prophecy of these sapient gentlemen is correct, and whether their ‘friend’ is so important to me that I dare not dismiss him. Upon my word, my minister has placed himself so advantageously before his master, as to exclude him entirely from the eyes of his subjects.”

Whilst these words were speaking, M. de Maupeou and M. de la VrilliÈre were announced; the king, still warm, let fall some words expressive of his displeasure at what had happened. The gauntlet was thrown; and so well did we work upon the irritated mind of Louis XV, that it was determined M. de Choiseul should be dismissed the following day, December 24, 1770. Chanteloup was chosen for the place of his retreat, and M. de la VrilliÈre, by the dictation of the king, wrote the following letter to the duke:—

“Cousin,-, The dissatisfaction caused me by your conduct compels me to request you will confine yourself to your estate at Chanteloup, whither you will remove in four and twenty hours from the date hereof. I should have chosen a more remote spot for your place of exile, were it not for the great esteem I entertain for the duchesse de Choiseul, in whose delicate health I feel much interest. Have a care that you do not, by your own conduct, oblige me to adopt harsher measures; and hereupon I pray God to have you in his keeping.”

(Signed) “Louis,”

(and lower down) “PHILIPPEAUX”

When this letter was completed, I said to the king,

“Surely, sire, you do not mean to forget the duke’s faithful ally, M. de Praslin? It would ill become us to detain him when the head of the family has taken leave of us.”

“You are right,” replied the king, smiling; “besides, an old broom taken from a masthead would be as useful to us as he would.”

Then, turning to M. de la VrilliÈre, the king dictated the following laconic notice:—

“COUSIN,—I have no further occasion for your services; I exile you to Praslin, and expect you will repair thither within four and twenty hours after the receipt of this.”

“Short and sweet,” cried I.

“Now let us drop the subject,” said Louis; “let madame de Choiseul repose in peace to-night, and to-morrow morning, at eleven o’clock, go yourself, M. de la VrilliÈre, and carry my orders to the duke, and bring back his staff of office.”

“To whom will you give it, sire?” inquired the chancellor.

“I have not yet considered the subject,” replied the king.

At this instant M. de Soubise was announced. “Motus!” exclaimed the king, as M. de Soubise, little suspecting the nature of our conversation, entered the room. I profited by his coming to slip out of the room into my boudoir, from which I despatched the following note to M. d’Aiguillon:

“MY DEAR DUKE,—Victoria! We are conquerors; master and man quit Paris to-morrow. We shall replace them by our friends; and you best know whether you are amongst the number of them.”

When I returned to the drawing-room, the king exclaimed,

“Come, madam., you are waited for; the prince de Soubise has a very curious anecdote to relate, which befell a lady of his acquaintance; I begged of him to defer telling it till you rejoined us.”

“Are you afraid of ghosts?” inquired the marÉchal of me.

“Not this evening,” replied I; “to-morrow, perhaps, or the next day, I may be.”

This jest amused the king and the duc de la VrilliÈre, whilst M. de Maupeou, who seemed to fear lest I should by any indiscretion, reveal our secret, made a signal of impatience; to which I replied, by shrugging up my shoulders. Poor M. de Soubise, although he did not comprehend my joke, laughed at it as heartily as heartily as the rest who saw its application. “Oh! you courtier,” thought I We then entreated of him to commence the recital of his tale, which he did in the following words—

“There is in Lower Brittany a family gifted with a most singular endowment: each member of the family, male or female, is warned exactly one month previous to his or her decease of the precise hour and day in which it will take place. A lady belonging to this peculiar race was visiting me rather more than a month since; we were conversing quietly together, when, all at once, she uttered a loud cry, arose from her seat, endeavored to walk across the room, but fell senseless upon the floor. Much grieved and surprised at this scene, I hastily summoned my servants, who bestowed upon the unfortunate lady the utmost attention, but it was long ere she revived. I then wished to persuade her to take some rest. ‘No,’ cried she, rising and giving me orders for her immediate departure, ‘I have not sufficient time for rest; scarcely will the short period between me and eternity allow me to set my affairs in order.’ Surprised at this language, I begged of her to explain herself. ‘You are aware,’ said she, ‘of the fatal power possessed by my family; well, at the moment in which I was sitting beside you on this sofa, happening to cast my eyes on the mirror opposite, I saw myself as a corpse wrapped in the habiliments of death, and partly covered with a black and white drapery; beside me was an open coffin. This is sufficient; I have no time to lose: farewell, my friend, we shall meet no more’ Thunderstruck at these words, I suffered the lady to depart without attempting to combat her opinion. This morning I received intelligence from her son that the prophecy had been fulfilled—she was no more.”

When the marÉchal had finished, I exclaimed,

“You have told us a sad dismal tale; I really fear I shall not be able to close my eyes at all to-night for thinking of it.”

“We must think of some means of keeping up your spirits,” answered Louis XV. “As for your story, marÉchal, it does not surprise me; things equally inexplicable are continually taking place. I read in a letter addressed by Philip V, of Spain, to Louis XIV, ‘that the spirit of Philip II, founder of the Escurial, wanders at certain intervals around that building.’ Philip V affirms that he himself witnessed the apparition of the spectre of the king.”

At this moment supper was announced. “Come, gentlemen,” said I, “let us seek to banish these gloomy ideas around our festive board.” Upon which the king conducted me to the supper-room, the rest of the company following us. Spite of all my efforts to be gay, and induce others to be so likewise, the conversation still lingered upon this dismal subject.

“Heaven grant,” exclaimed the chancellor, “that I may not soon have to dread a visit from the ghost of the deceased parliament; however, if such were the case, it would not prevent my sleeping.”

“Oh!” cried the king, “these long-robed gentlemen have often more effectually robbed me of sleep than all the spectres in the world could do; yet one night—”

“Well, sire,” said I, seeing that Louis was silent, “and what happened to you that night?”

“Nothing that I can repeat,” answered Louis XV, glancing around with a mournful look.

A dead silence followed, which lasted several minutes; and this evening, which was to usher my day of triumph, passed away in the most inconceivable dullness. What most contributed to render me uneasy was the reflection, that, at the very moment when we had freed ourselves of our enemies, we were ignorant who would fill their vacant places. This was an error, and a great one. My friends would not listen to the nomination of the Comte de Broglie, the Comte de Maillebois, the duc de la Vauguyon, any more than either M. de Soubise or M. de Castries. The abbÉ Terray, having upon one occasion proposed the marÉchal duc de Richelieu, he very narrowly escaped having his face scratched by M. d’Aiguillon, who cared very little for his dear uncle; but I have unintentionally wandered from the thread of my narrative; I will therefore resume it at once.

I had hoped that the king would this night have retired to his own apartment, and that I should have been enabled to hold a secret council with M. de Maupeou, and the ducs de la VrilliÈre and d’Aiguillon; but no such thing. Imagining, no doubt, that I should be kept awake by my fear of ghosts, his majesty insisted upon remaining with me, and I was compelled to acquiesce. He passed a very agitated night, much more occupied with the des Choiseuls than me; he could think of nothing, speak of nothing, but the sensation which their disgrace would produce; he seemed to dread his family, the nobility, the nation, Europe, and the whole world. I strove to re-assure him, and to inspire him with fresh courage; and, when he quitted me in the morning, I felt convinced that he would not again alter his determination.

As soon as Louis XV had left me, Comte Jean entered. Although concealed behind the curtain, and apparently not on the best terms with me, my brother-in-law nevertheless directed my actions, and gave me most excellent advice. It was not long ere the duc d’Aiguillon arrived; he had seen M. de Maupeou during the night, and learned from him the exile of the late minister, but beyond that fact he knew nothing. He inquired of me, with much uneasiness, whether anything had been decided in his behalf. I replied, that the king was as yet undecided in his choice of ministers, but that, if the duc d’Aiguillon came into office, he would, in all probability, be nominated to the administration of foreign affairs: the direction of the war-office had been my noble friend’s ardent desire.

Whilst we were thus conversing together on the 24th of December, 1770, eleven o’clock struck; and we could, from the windows, perceive M. de la VrilliÈre taking his way towards that part of the building occupied by M. de Choiseul when at the castle. This latter was in conversation with M. ConziÉ, bishop of Arras, when the arrival of the duc de la VrilliÈre, bearing the king’s commands, was signified to him. The prelate, not doubting but the mission related to affairs of importance, took his leave; de la VrilliÈre then presented the lettre de cachet, accompanying it with some remarks of his own upon the talents of the minister, and his regret at being selected for so unpleasant an office. “A truce to your feigned regrets, my lord duke,” replied the disgraced minister, sarcastically, “I am well assured my dismissal could not have been brought me by hands more ready to discharge the trust than yours.” Saying this, M. de Choiseul placed his credentials in the hands of the duke, and slightly bowing, turned his back upon him, as though he had forgotten his presence. M. de Choiseul then retired to summon his sister, to communicate to her and his wife the misfortune which had befallen him: he then set out for Paris, to make the necessary preparations for removing to Chanteloup. There an officer from the king, charged to accompany him to his place of exile, gave him his majesty’s orders that he should see no person, and receive no visits.

This order did not proceed from me, but was the work of the duc de la VrilliÈre, who sought, by this paltry action, to avenge himself upon M. de Choiseul for the reception he had given him. It was wholly useless, however, for in the exile of the duke was seen a thing unheard of, perhaps, before, and, in all probability, unlikely ever to occur again—the sight of a whole court espousing the part of an exiled minister, and openly censuring the monarch who could thus reward his services. You, no doubt, remember equally well as myself the long file of carriages that for two days blocked up the road to Chanteloup. In vain did Louis XV express his dissatisfaction; his court flocked in crowds to visit M. de Choiseul.

On the other hand, the castle was not in a more tranquil state. At the news of the dismissal and banishment of M. de Choiseul, a general hue and cry was raised against me and my friends: one might have supposed, by the clamours it occasioned, that the ex-minister had been the atlas of the monarchy; and that, deprived of his succour, the state must fall into ruins. The princesses were loud in their anger, and accused me publicly of having conspired against virtue itself! The virtue of such a sister and brother! I ask you, my friend, is not the idea truly ludicrous?

The dauphiness bewailed his fall with many tears; at least, so I was informed by a lady of her suite, madame de Campan. This lady was a most loquacious person; she frequently visited my sister-in-law; and, thanks to her love of talking, we were always well-informed of all that was passing in the household of Marie Antoinette. However, the dauphin was far from sharing the grief Of his illustrious spouse. When informed of the dismissal of the duke, he cried out, “Well, madame du Barry has saved me an infinity of trouble—that of getting rid of so dangerous a man, in the event of my ever ascending the throne.” The prince did not usually speak of me in the most flattering terms, but I forgave him on the present occasion, so much was I charmed with his expression relative to the late minister; it afforded me the certainty that I should not have to dread the possibility of his recalling de Choiseul.

Whilst many were bewailing the downfall of the des Choiseuls, others, who had an eye more to self-interest, presented themselves to share in the spoils of his fortune. There were the princes de Soubise and de CondÉ, the duc de la Vauguyon, the comtes de Broglie, de Maillebois, and de Castries, the marquis de Monteynard and many others, equally anxious for a tempting slice of the ministry, and who would have made but one mouthful of the finest and best.

The marquise de 1’ HÔpital came to solicit my interest for the prince de Soubise, her lover. I replied, that his majesty would rather have the marÉchal for his friend than his minister; that, in fact, the different appointments had taken place; and that, if the names of the parties were not immediately divulged, it was to spare the feelings of certain aspirants to the ministry: madame de 1’ HÔpital withdrew, evidently much disconcerted at my reply. Certainly M. de Soubise must have lost his reason, when he supposed that the successor of M. de Choiseul would be himself, the most insignificant prince of France; he only could suppose that he was equal to such an elevation. However this may be, he took upon himself to behave very much like an offended person for some days; but, finding such a line of conduct produced no good, he came round again, and presented himself as usual at my parties, whilst I received him as though nothing had occurred.

I had more difficulty in freeing myself from the importunities of Messieurs de Broglie and de Maillebois. I had given to each of them a sort of promise; I had allowed them to hope, and yet, when the time came to realize these hopes, I told them, that I possessed much less influence than was generally imagined; to which they replied, that they knew my power to serve them was much greater than I appeared to believe. After a while, I succeeded in deadening the expectations of M. de Broglie, but M. de Maillebois was long ere he would abandon his pursuit. When every chance of success had left him, he gave way to so much violence and bitterness against M. d’Aiguillon, that the duke was compelled to punish him for his impudent rage. I will mention the other candidates for the ministry at another opportunity.