Spite of the merit of madame Boncault, and the many eulogiums I bestowed on her whilst relating her history to the king, I could not immediately obtain the post madame de Forcalquier had requested for this paragon of friends. His majesty replied to me by saying, that no doubt so many virtues merited a high reward, but that ere madame Boncault could be appointed lady in waiting to his granddaughter, she must be presented at court under some other name than the one she now bore.

“Oh, if that be all, sire,” replied I, “it will soon be effected. Ladies who have the good fortune to possess a rich dowry and powerful friends need never look far for a choice of husbands. Only let madame Boncault have reason to reckon upon your patronage, and she will have no lack of admirers.”

The king, always ready to oblige me, caused it to be understood throughout the chÂteau that he was desirous of seeing madame Boncault well established, as he had it in contemplation to confide to her a place of great trust. Immediately a score of suitors presented themselves; the preference was given to the comte de Bourbon Busset as the person most calculated in every respect to answer our purpose; he possessed elegant manners, an unblemished reputation, and a descent so illustrious as to be traced even to the reigning family. No sooner were the celebrations of this marriage over, than I procured the formal appointment of madame de Bourbon Busset to the post of lady in waiting to the new princess. This nomination tended greatly to increase the high opinion entertained of the judgment and discrimination of the comtesse de Forcalquier, and you may easily believe, from the friendship I bore this lady, that I fully entered into her triumph on the occasion.

When the comtesse de Bourbon Busset came to return me her acknowledgments for what I had done, she accompanied it with a request for a fresh interference on my part: this was to obtain for her husband the title of duke and peer. Accordingly I mentioned her wishes to the king, observing at the same time how very surprising it was that one so nearly related to the house of Bourbon should not have reached the honors of the ducal peerage: to which Louis XV replied, that he had no desire to increase the number of princes of the blood, of whom there were quite sufficient of legitimate birth without placing the illegitimate upon the same footing; that Louis XIV had been a sufficient warning of the folly of acting too indulgently towards these latter, who were only so many additional enemies to the royal authority. To all this I answered, that it was not fitting to treat the family of Bourbon Busset, however illegitimate might be its origin, as though it merely belonged to the petite noblesse, etc.; but my arguments were in vain, and, as the proverb says, “I talked to the wind.” My friends recommended me not to press the subject, and the matter ended there. However, in order to smooth the refusal as much as possible, I procured M. de Bourbon Busset the appointment of first gentleman usher to the young prince.

The establishment of the comtesse d’Artois was now formed. M. de ChÉglus, bishop of Cahors, had the post of first almoner; and strange to say, although a prelate, was a man of irreproachable virtue; he had little wit but strong sense, and was better known by his many charitable deeds than by the brilliancy of his sayings. He was eminently suited for the office now conferred on him; and those who knew him best were the least surprised to find the nomination had fallen on him.

I also procured a post in the establishment of the young couple for my sister-in-law, the comtesse d’Hargicourt. Her maiden name was Fumel, an ancient family in Guienne, and M. de Fumel, her father, was governor of the chÂteau Trompette at Bordeaux. This marriage had at first encountered many difficulties from the deadly hatred which existed in the chÂteau against us. Comte Jean, perceiving that things were going against us, applied to the king himself for assistance in the affair. Louis XV could not endure him, but his dislike was manifested only by an uneasy timidity in his presence, and he freely granted any request that would the soonest free him from his presence. The king acted upon the same principle in the present conjuncture; he bestowed a million of livres upon the comte d’Hargicourt, that is to say, 500,000 livres to be employed in paying the debts of the comte de Fumel, and in freeing his estates from a dowry of 60,000 livres to be paid to his daughter on her marriage, with various other clearances and payments; besides this my brother-in-law, comte d’Hargicourt, was appointed captain in the prince’s Swiss guards, one of the most honorable commissions that could have been conferred on him.

The comte de Crussel and the prince d’Henin were named captains of the guard to M. d’Artois. This prince d’Henin was of such diminutive stature that he was sometimes styled, by way of jest, the “prince of dwarfs,” “the dwarf of princes.” He was the beloved nephew of the marÉchale de Mirepoix, whose fondness could not supply him with the sense he so greatly needed; he was besides very profligate, and continually running into some difficulty or other by his eager pursuit after pleasure. It is related of him, that the duc de Lauragnais, wearied with seeing the prince d’Henin for ever fluttering about his mistress, mademoiselle Arnoult, drew up a consultation, to inquire whether it were possible to die of ennui: this he submitted to several physicians and celebrated lawyers, who having united in replying affirmatively, he caused the consultation with its answer to be forwarded to the prince d’Henin, warning him henceforward to cease his visits to mademoiselle Arnoult; or, in the event of her death, he would certainly be taken up as a party concerned in effecting it.

The opposite party was now more irritated than ever by the many places and employments I caused to be given either to my own friends, or to those for whom they solicited my interest. The duchesse de Grammont, flattering herself that she might now take the field against me with advantage, arrived in Paris one fine morning from Chanteloup. Those about me were full of wrath, I know not for why, at her arrival, but I explained to them, that they were mistaken in supposing madame de Grammont an exile; she had voluntarily accompanied her brother into his retreat, and when that was no longer agreeable to her she returned to Paris. However, her journey did neither good nor harm; she had many invitations to fÊtes given in honor of herself, was frequently asked to dinners, balls, etc., but that was all; no person set their wits to work to reinstate her in the good graces of the king. I soon comprehended the forlorn hopes of my poor enemy, and my former animosity soon gave way to the play with which she inspired me.

About the period of the marriage of the comtesse d’Artois, an individual of some eminence fell into disgrace; this was the comte de Broglie. This gentleman, as you know, was private minister to Louis XV, intrusted for some time past with his correspondence, and affected the airs of a favorite. He solicited upon the present occasion the honor of going to meet the princess at the bridge of Beauvoisin, a request which was granted. This was not sufficient for him; he begged for a month’s leave of absence, with permission to proceed to Turin: this depended on the duc d’Aiguillon, who was by no means partial to the comte de Broglie. He said to me when speaking of him,

“I feel no inclination to oblige this minister; on the contrary, he may wait long enough for what he desires as far as I am concerned.

“I fear he will be greatly offended with you,” answered I.

“Oh, never mind that,” replied the duke; “if he grows sullen about it, why well; if he is loud and vehement, better still; and should his anger lead him to the commission of any act of folly, depend upon it we will take advantage of it.”

As I foresaw, the comte de Broglie was deeply offended, and wrote to the duc d’Aiguillon a letter full of imprudent expressions. This was exactly what this latter desired, who eagerly carried and read the paper to the different members of the council, who heard it with every expression of surprise and displeasure; the king viewed it as a piece of open rebellion, and resolved to punish the writer with his heaviest displeasure; the duc d’Aiguillon asked nothing better, and ere an hour had elapsed, the duc de la VrilliÈre received orders to draw up a lettre de cachet in which the king expressed his discontent of the comte de Broglie, deprived him of the commission he had given him to go and receive the princess of Savoy, and exiled him to BuffÉe, one of his estates near AngoulÊme.

This was a matter of great talk at the chÂteau; no one could imagine what had made the comte de Broglie conduct himself so foolishly. It was at this period that M. d Marchault said of him, when he saw him pass his house on his way to BuffÉe, “He has the ministry by the tail.”

M. de Broglie having gone, his majesty was compelled to look out for another confidant, and raised to that eminence M. Lemoine, clerk of his closet. M. Lemoine, in an inferior station had shown himself competent to fill the highest offices in the state. Such abilities are rare. He was an excellent lawyer, admirable chancellor of exchequer, and had the king said to him, “I make thee a general,” he would, the next day, have commanded armies and gained victories. Despite his merit he lived long unknown: the reason was obvious—he knew nothing of intrigue; and his wife, though pretty, was discreet; and these are not the means to advance a man at court.

Louis XV, who knew something of men when he chose to study them., was not slow in detecting the talent of Lemoine, and in consequence gave him that station in which de Broglie had been installed. No sooner had Lemoine glanced over the affairs submitted to his control, than he became master of them, as much as though they had occupied the whole of his life, and in a short time he gave to his situation an importance which it had never before reached. Unwilling, however, to incur hatred, he enveloped himself in profound mystery, so much so that nobody, with the exception of Messrs. d’Aiguillon and de Sartines, knew anything of his labors. This pleased the king, who was averse to publicity.

The duc d’Aiguillon could not conceal his joy at being freed from de Broglie, his most troublesome colleague. It was a grand point gained for him, as he could now make sure of the post of secretary-at-war, the main object of his ambition. He wished to be placed in the duc de Choiseul’s position, and to effect this he redoubled his attentions towards the king, who, though not really regarding him, at length treated him as the dearest of his subjects. There are inexplicable mysteries in weak characters; obstinacy alarms them, and they yield because they hate resistance.

The king was ennuied to death, and became daily more dull and heavy. I saw his gloom without knowing how to disperse it, but it did not make me particularly uncomfortable. Occupied with my dear duc de Brissac I almost forgot his majesty for him: the marÉchale de Mirepoix, who had more experience than I had in the affairs at Versailles, and who knew the king well, was alarmed at my negligence, and spoke to me of it.

“Do you not see,” she said, one day, “what a crisis is at hand?”

“What crisis?” I asked.

“The king is dying of ennui.”

“True.”

“Does it not alarm you?” said the marÉchale.

“Why should it?”

“What makes him so? Think well when I tell you that your mortal enemy has seized Louis XV; your most redoubtable enemy, ennui!”

“Very well; but what would you have me do?”

“You must amuse him.”

“That is easier said than done.”

“You are right, but it is compulsory. Believe me, kings are not moulded like other men: early disgusted with all things, they only exist in a variety of pleasures; what pleases them this evening will displease them tomorrow; they wish to be happy in a different way. Louis XV is more kingly in this respect than any other. You must devise amusements for him.”

“Alas,” I replied, “how? Shall I give him a new tragedy of la Harpe’s,—he will yawn; an opera of Marmontel,—he will go to sleep. Heavens! how unfortunate I am!”

“Really, my dear,” replied the marÉchale, “I cannot advise you; but I can quote a powerful example. In such a case madame de Pompadour would have admitted a rival near the throne.”

“Madame de Pompadour was very amiable, my dear,” I replied, “and I would have done so once or twice, but the part of Mother Gourdan does not suit me; I prefer that of her young ladies.”

At these words the marÉchale laughed, whilst I made a long grave face. At this instant comte Jean entered, and exclaimed,

“Really, ladies, you present a singular contrast. May I ask you, sister, what causes this sorrow? What ails you?”

“Oh, brother!” was my response, “the king is dying of ennui.”

“That is no marvel,” said my brother-in-law.

“And to rouse him,” I added, “it is necessary, the marÉchale says, that I must take a pretty girl by the hand, and present her to the king with these words: ‘Sire, having found that you grow tired of me, I present this lady to you, that you may amuse yourself with her.”

“That would be very fine,” replied comte Jean; “it would show him that you had profited by my advice.” Then, whispering in my ear, “You know, sister, I am capable of the greatest sacrifices for the king.”

“What are you saying, Comte Jean?” asked the marÉchale, who had heard some words.

“I said to my sister,” answered he, coolly, “that she ought to be executed to please the king.”

“And you, too, brother,” I cried.

“Yes, sister,” said he, with a theatrical tone, “I see the dire necessity, and submit to it unrepiningly. Let us yield to fate, or rather, let us so act as to make it favorable to us. The king requires some amusement, and let us find him a little wench. We must take heed not to present any fine lady: no, no; by all the devils—! Excuse me, marÉchale, ‘tis a habit I have.”

“It is nature, you mean,” replied the marÉchale: “the nightingale is born to sing, and you, comte Jean, were born to swear; is it not true?”

After this conversation the marÉchale went out, and Comte Jean departed to arrange his plans for the king’s amusement.

However, the ennui of Louis XV was somewhat dissipated by the tidings of the various incidents which occurred at the grand entry of the dauphin and dauphiness into Paris. We learnt that the duc de Brissac, as governor of Paris, on receiving the dauphiness, said,

“Madam, you see about you two hundred thousand lovers.” He was right; the princess looked like an angel. I had taken a mortal aversion to her. Alas! circumstances have too fully avenged me: this unfortunate queen loses popularity daily; her perfidious friends have sacrificed her to their interests. I pity her.