Book: The Secret Memoirs of Louis XV./XVI, Complete

U >> Unknown >> The Secret Memoirs of Louis XV./XVI, Complete




A man, who was quite as astonishing as this fortune-teller, often visited
Madame de Pompadour. This was the Comte de St. Germain, who wished to
have it believed that he had lived several centuries.

[St. Germain was an adept--a worthy predecessor of Cagliostro, who
expected to live five hundred years. The Count de St. Germain pretended
to have already lived two thousand, and, according to him, the account
was still running. He went so far as to claim the power of transmitting
the gift of long life. One day, calling upon his servant to, bear
witness to a fact that went pretty far back, the man replied, "I have no
recollection of it, sir; you forget that I have only had the honour of
serving you for five hundred years."

St. Germain, like all other charlatans of this sort, assumed a theatrical
magnificence, and an air of science calculated to deceive the vulgar.
His best instrument of deception was the phantasmagoria; and as, by means
of this abuse of the science of optics, he called up shades which were
asked for, and almost always recognised, his correspondence with the
other world was a thing proved by the concurrent testimony of numerous
witnesses.

He played the same game in London, Venice, and Holland, but he constantly
regretted Paris, where his miracles were never questioned.

St. Germain passed his latter days at the Court of the Prince of Hesse
Cassel, and died at Plewig, in 1784, in the midst of his enthusiastic
disciples, and to their infinite astonishment at his sharing the common
destiny.]

One day, at her toilet, Madame said to him, in my presence, "What was the
personal appearance of Francis I.? He was a King I should have
liked."--"He was, indeed, very captivating," said St. Germain; and he
proceeded to describe his face and person as one does that of a man one
has accurately observed. "It is a pity he was too ardent. I could have
given him some good advice, which would have saved him from all his
misfortunes; but he would not have followed it; for it seems as if a
fatality attended Princes, forcing them to shut their ears, those of the
mind, at least, to the best advice, and especially in the most critical
moments."--"And the Constable," said Madame, "what do you say of
him?"--"I cannot say much good or much harm of him," replied he. "Was
the Court of Francis I. very brilliant?"--"Very brilliant; but those of
his grandsons infinitely surpassed it. In the time of Mary Stuart and
Margaret of Valois it was a land of enchantment--a temple, sacred to
pleasures of every kind; those of the mind were not neglected. The two
Queens were learned, wrote verses, and spoke with captivating grace and
eloquence." Madame said, laughing, "You seem to have seen all this."--"I
have an excellent memory," said he, "and have read the history of France
with great care. I sometimes amuse myself, not by making, but by letting
it be believed that I lived in old times."--"You do not tell me your age,
however, and you give yourself out for very old. The Comtesse de Gergy,
who was Ambassadress to Venice, I think, fifty years ago, says she knew
you there exactly what you are now."--"It is true, Madame, that I have
known Madame de Gergy a long time."--"But, according to what she says,
you would be more than a hundred"--"That is not impossible," said he,
laughing; "but it is, I allow, still more possible that Madame de Gergy,
for whom I have the greatest respect, may be in her dotage."--"You have
given her an elixir, the effect of which is surprising. She declares that
for a long time she has felt as if she was only four-and-twenty years of
age; why don't you give some to the King?"--"Ah! Madame," said he, with a
sort of terror, "I must be mad to think of giving the King an unknown
drug." I went into my room to write down this conversation. Some days
afterwards, the King, Madame de Pompadour, some Lords of the Court, and
the Comte de St. Germain, were talking about his secret for causing the
spots in diamonds to disappear. The King ordered a diamond of middling
size, which had a spot, to be brought. It was weighed; and the King said
to the Count, "It is valued at two hundred and forty louis; but it would
be worth four hundred if it had no spot. Will you try to put a hundred
and sixty louis into my pocket?" He examined it carefully, and said, "It
may be done; and I will bring it you again in a month." At the time
appointed, the Count brought back the diamond without a spot, and gave it
to the King. It was wrapped in a cloth of amianthus, which he took off.
The King had it weighed, and found it but very little diminished. The
King sent it to his jeweller by M. de Gontaut, without telling him
anything of what had passed. The jeweller gave three hundred and eighty
louis for it. The King, however, sent for it back again, and kept it as
a curiosity. He could not overcome his surprise, and said that M. de St.
Germain must be worth millions, especially if he had also the secret of
making large diamonds out of a number of small ones. He neither said
that he had, nor that he had not; but he positively asserted that he
could make pearls grow, and give them the finest water. The King, paid
him great attention, and so did Madame de Pompadour. It was from her I
learnt what I have just related. M. Queanay said, talking of the pearls,
"They are produced by a disease in the oyster. It is possible to know
the cause of it; but, be that as it may, he is not the less a quack,
since he pretends to have the elixir vitae, and to have lived several
centuries. Our master is, however, infatuated by him, and sometimes
talks of him as if his descent were illustrious."

I have seen him frequently: he appeared to be about fifty; he was neither
fat nor thin; he had an acute, intelligent look, dressed very simply, but
in good taste; he wore very fine diamonds in his rings, watch, and
snuff-box. He came, one day, to visit Madame de Pompadour, at a time
when the Court was in full splendour, with knee and shoe-buckles of
diamonds so fine and brilliant that Madame said she did not believe the
King had any equal to them. He went into the antechamber to take them
off, and brought them to be examined; they were compared with others in
the room, and the Duc de Gontaut, who was present, said they were worth
at least eight thousand louis. He wore, at the same time, a snuff-box of
inestimable value, and ruby sleeve-buttons, which were perfectly
dazzling. Nobody could find out by what means this man became so rich
and so remarkable; but the King would not suffer him to be spoken of with
ridicule or contempt. He was said to be a bastard son of the King of
Portugal.

I learnt, from M. de Marigny, that the relations of the good little
Marechale (de Mirepoix) had been extremely severe upon her, for what they
called the baseness of her conduct, with regard to Madame de Pompadour.
They said she held the stones of the cherries which Madame ate in her
carriage, in her beautiful little hands, and that she sate in the front
of the carriage, while Madame occupied the whole seat in the inside. The
truth was, that, in going to Crecy, on an insupportably hot day, they
both wished to sit alone, that they might be cooler; and as to the matter
of the cherries, the villagers having brought them some, they ate them to
refresh themselves, while the horses were changed; and the Marechal
emptied her pocket-handkerchief, into which they had both thrown the
cherry-stones, out of the carriage window. The people who were changing
the horses had given their own version of the affair.





I had, as you know, a very pretty room at Madame's hotel, whither I
generally went privately. I had, one day, had visits from two or three
Paris representatives, who told me news; and Madame, having sent for me,
I went to her, and found her with M. de Gontaut. I could not help
instantly saying to her, "You must be much pleased, Madame, at the noble
action of the Marquis de ------." Madame replied, drily, "Hold your
tongue, and listen to what I have to say to you." I returned to my
little room, where I found the Comtesse d'Amblimont, to whom I mentioned
Madame's reception of me. "I know what is the matter," said she; "it has
no relation to you. I will explain it to you. The Marquis de -------has
told all Paris, that, some days ago, going home at night, alone, and on
foot, he heard cries in a street called Ferou, which is dark, and, in
great part, arched over; that he drew his sword, and went down the
street, in which he saw, by the light of a lamp, a very handsome woman,
to whom some ruffians were offering violence; that he approached, and
that the woman cried out, 'Save me! save me!' that he rushed upon the
wretches, two of whom fought him, sword in hand, whilst a third held the
woman, and tried to stop her mouth; that he wounded one in the arm; and
that the ruffians, hearing people pass at the end of the street, and
fearing they might come to his assistance, fled; that he went up to the
lady, who told him that they were not robbers, but villains, one of whom
was desperately in love with her; and that the lady knew not how to
express her gratitude; that she had begged him not to follow her, after
he had conducted her to a fiacre; that she would not tell him her name,
but that she insisted on his accepting a little ring, as a token of
remembrance; and that she promised to see him again, and to tell him her
whole history, if he gave her his address; that he complied with this
request of the lady, whom he represented as a charming person, and who,
in the overflowing of her gratitude, embraced him several times. This is
all very fine, so far," said Madame d'Amblimont, "but hear the rest. The
Marquis de exhibited himself everywhere the next day, with a black ribbon
bound round his arm, near the wrist, in which part he said he had
received a wound. He related his story to everybody, and everybody
commented upon it after his own fashion. He went to dine with the
Dauphin, who spoke to him of his bravery, and of his fair unknown, and
told him that he had already complimented the Duc de C---- on the affair.
I forgot to tell you," continued Madame d'Amblimont, "that, on the very
night of the adventure, he called on Madame d'Estillac, an old gambler,
whose house is open till four in the morning; that everybody there was
surprised at the disordered state in which he appeared; that his bagwig
had fallen off, one skirt of his coat was cut, and his right hand
bleeding. That they instantly bound it up, and gave him some Rota wine.
Four days ago, the Duc de C---- supped with the King, and sat near M. de
St. Florentin. He talked to him of his relation's adventure, and asked
him if he had made any inquiries concerning the lady. M. de St.
Florentin coldly answered, 'No!' and M. de C---- remarked, on asking him
some further questions, that he kept his eyes firmed on his plate,
looking embarrassed, and answered in monosyllables. He asked him the
reason of this, upon which M. de Florentin told him that it was extremely
distressing to him to see him under such a mistake. 'How can you know
that, supposing it to be the fact?' said M. de ------, 'Nothing is more
easy to prove,' replied M. de St. Florentin. 'You may imagine that, as
soon as I was informed of the Marquis de ------'s adventure, I set on
foot inquiries, the result of which was, that, on the night when this
affair was said to have taken place, a party of the watch was set in
ambuscade in this very street, for the purpose of catching a thief who
was coming out of the gaming house; that this party was there four hours,
and heard not the slightest noise.' M. de C was greatly incensed at this
recital, which M. de St. Florentin ought, indeed, to have communicated to
the King. He has ordered, or will order, his relation to retire to his
province.

"After this, you will judge, my dear, whether you were very likely to be
graciously received when you went open-mouthed with your compliment to
the Marquise. This adventure," continued she, "reminded the King of one
which occurred about fifteen years ago. The Comte d'E----, who was what
is called 'enfant d'honneur' to the Dauphin, and about fourteen years of
age, came into the Dauphin's apartments, one evening, with his bag-wig
snatched off, and his ruffles torn, and said that, having walked rather
late near the piece of water des Suisses, he had been attacked by two
robbers; that he had refused to give them anything, drawn his sword, and
put himself in an attitude of defence; that one of the robbers was armed
with a sword, the other with a large stick, from which he had received
several blows, but that he had wounded one in the arm, and that, hearing
a noise at that moment, they had fled. But unluckily for the little
Count, it was known that people were on the spot at the precise time he
mentioned, and had heard nothing. The Count was pardoned, on account of
his youth. The Dauphin made him confess the truth, and it was looked
upon as a childish freak to set people talking about him."

The King disliked the King of Prussia because he knew that the latter was
in the habit of jesting upon his mistress, and the kind of life he led.
It was Frederick's fault, as I have heard it said, that the King was not
his most steadfast ally and friend, as much as sovereigns can be towards
each other; but the jestings of Frederick had stung him, and made him
conclude the treaty of Versailles. One day, he entered Madame's
apartment with a paper in his hand, and said, "The King of Prussia is
certainly a great man; he loves men of talent, and, like Louis XIV., he
wishes to make Europe ring with his favours towards foreign savans. There
is a letter from him, addressed to Milord Marshal, ordering him to
acquaint a 'superieur' man of my kingdom (D'Alembert) that he has
granted him a pension;" and, looking at the letter, he read the
following words: "You must know that there is in Paris a man of the
greatest merit, whose fortune is not proportionate to his talents and
character. I may serve as eyes to the blind goddess, and repair in some
measure the injustice, and I beg you to offer on that account. I
flatter myself that he will accept this pension because of the pleasure
I shall feel in obliging a man who joins beauty of character to the most
sublime intellectual talents."

[George Keith, better known under the name of Milord Marshal, was the
eldest son of William Keith, Earl Marshal of Scotland. He was an avowed
partisan of the Stuarts, and did not lay down the arms he had taken up in
their cause until it became utterly desperate, and drew upon its
defenders useless dangers. When they were driven from their country, he
renounced it, and took up his residence successively in France, Prussia,
Spain, and Italy. The delicious country and climate of Valencia he
preferred above any other.

Milord Marshal died in the month of May, 1778. It was he who said to
Madame Geoffrin, speaking of his brother, who was field-marshal in the
Prussian service, and died on the field of honour, "My brother leaves me
the most glorious inheritance" (he had just laid the whole of Bohemia
under contribution); "his property does not amount to seventy ducats." A
eulogium on Milord Marshal, by D'Alembert, is extant. It is the most
cruelly mangled of all his works, by Linguet]

The King here stopped, on seeing MM. de Ayen and de Gontaut enter, and
then recommenced reading the letter to them, and added, "It was given me
by the Minister for Foreign Affairs, to whom it was confided by Milord
Marshal, for the purpose of obtaining my permission for this sublime
genius to accept the favour. But," said the King, "what do you think is
the amount?" Some said six, eight, ten thousand livres. "You have not
guessed," said the King; "it is twelve hundred livres."--"For sublime
talents," said the Duc d'Ayen, "it is not much. But the philosophers
will make Europe resound with this letter, and the King of Prussia will
have the pleasure of making a great noise at little expense."

The Chevalier de Courten,--[The Chevalier de Courten was a Swiss, and a
man of talent.]--who had been in Prussia, came in, and, hearing this
story told, said, "I have seen what is much better than that: passing
through a village in Prussia, I got out at the posthouse, while I was
waiting for horses; and the postmaster, who was a captain in the Prussian
service, showed me several letters in Frederick's handwriting, addressed
to his uncle, who was a man of rank, promising him to provide for his
nephews; the provision he made for this, the eldest of these nephews, who
was dreadfully wounded, was the postmastership which he then held." M.
de Marigny related this story at Quesnay's, and added, that the man of
genius above mentioned was D'Alembert, and that the King had permitted
him to accept the pension. He added, that his sister had suggested to
the King that he had better give D'Alembert a pension of twice the value,
and forbid him to take the King of Prussia's. This advice he would not
take, because he looked upon D'Alembert as an infidel. M. de Marigny
took a copy of the letter, which he lent me.

A certain nobleman, at one time, affected to cast tender glances on
Madame Adelaide. She was wholly unconscious of it; but, as there are
Arguses at Court, the King was, of course, told of it, and, indeed, he
thought he had perceived it himself. I know that he came into Madame de
Pompadour's room one day, in a great passion, and said, "Would you
believe that there is a man in my Court insolent enough to dare to raise
his eyes to one of my daughters?" Madame had never seen him so
exasperated, and this illustrious nobleman was advised to feign a
necessity for visiting his estates. He remained there two months. Madame
told me, long after, that she thought that there were no tortures to
which the King would not have condemned any man who had seduced one of
his daughters. Madame Adelaide, at the time in question, was a charming
person, and united infinite grace, and much talent, to a most agreeable
face.





A courier brought Madame de Pompadour a letter, on reading which she
burst into tears. It contained the intelligence of the battle of
Rosbach, which M. de Soubise sent her, with all the details. I heard her
say to the Marechal de Belle-Isle, wiping her eyes, "M. de Soubise is
inconsolable; he does not try to excuse his conduct, he sees nothing but
the disastrous fortune which pursues him."--"M. de Soubise must, however,
have many things to urge in his own behalf," said M. de Belle-Isle, "and
so I told the King."--"It is very noble in you, Marshal, not to suffer an
unfortunate man to be overwhelmed; the public are furious against him,
and what has he done to deserve it?"--"There is not a more honourable nor
a kinder man in the world. I only fulfil my duty in doing justice to the
truth, and to a man for whom I have the most profound esteem. The King
will explain to you, Madame, how M. de Soubise was forced to give battle
by the Prince of Sage-Hildbourgshausen, whose troops fled first, and
carried along the French troops." Madame would have embraced the old
Marshal if she had dared, she was so delighted with him.

M. de Soubise, having gained a battle, was made Marshal of France: Madame
was enchanted with her friend's success. But, either it was unimportant,
or the public were offended at his promotion; nobody talked of it but
Madame's friends. This unpopularity was concealed from her, and she said
to Colin, her steward, at her toilet, "Are you not delighted at the
victory M. de Soubise has gained? What does the public say of it? He
has taken his revenge well." Colin was embarrassed, and knew not what to
answer. As she pressed him further, he replied that he had been ill, and
had seen nobody for a week.

M. de Marigny came to see me one day, very much out of humour. I asked
him the cause. "I have," said he, "just been intreating my sister not to
make M. le Normand-de-Mezi Minister of the Marine. I told her that she
was heaping coals of fire upon her own head. A favourite ought not to
multiply the points of attack upon herself." The Doctor entered. "You,"
said the Doctor, "are worth your weight in gold, for the good sense and
capacity you have shewn in your office, and for your moderation, but you
will never be appreciated as you deserve; your advice is excellent; there
will never be a ship taken but Madame will be held responsible for it to
the public, and you are very wise not to think of being in the Ministry
yourself."

One day, when I was at Paris, I went to dine with the Doctor, who
happened to be there at the same time; there were, contrary to his usual
custom, a good many people, and, among others, a handsome young Master of
the Requests, who took a title from some place, the name of which I have
forgotten, but who was a son of M. Turgot, the 'prevot des marchands'.
They talked a great deal about administration, which was not very amusing
to me; they then fell upon the subject of the love Frenchmen bear to
their Kings. M. Turgot here joined in the conversation, and said, "This
is not a blind attachment; it is a deeply rooted sentiment, arising from
an indistinct recollection of great benefits. The French nation--I may
go farther--Europe, and all mankind, owe to a King of France" (I have
forgotten his name)--[Phillip the Long]--"whatever liberty they enjoy. He
established communes, and conferred on an immense number of men a civil
existence. I am aware that it may be said, with justice, that he served
his own interests by granting these franchises; that the cities paid him
taxes, and that his design was to use them as instruments of weakening
the power of great nobles; but what does that prove, but that this
measure was at once useful, politic, and humane?" From Kings in general
the conversation turned upon Louis XV., and M. Turgot remarked that his
reign would be always celebrated for the advancement of the sciences, the
progress of knowledge, and of philosophy. He added that Louis XV. was
deficient in the quality which Louis XIV. possessed to excess; that is
to say, in a good opinion of himself; that he was well-informed; that
nobody was more perfectly master of the topography of France; that his
opinion in the Council was always the most judicious; and that it was
much to be lamented that he had not more confidence in himself, or that
he did not rely upon some Minister who enjoyed the confidence of the
nation. Everybody agreed with him. I begged M. Quesnay to write down
what young Turgot had said, and showed it to Madame. She praised this
Master of the Requests greatly, and spoke of him to the King. "It is a
good breed," said he.

One day, I went out to walk, and saw, on my return, a great many people
going and coming, and speaking to each other privately: it was evident
that something extraordinary had happened. I asked a person of my
acquaintance what was the matter. "Alas!" said he, with tears in his
eyes, "some assassins, who had formed the project of murdering the King,
have inflicted several wounds on a garde-du-corps, who overheard them in
a dark corridor; he is carried to the hospital: and as he has described
the colour of these men's coats, the Police are in quest of them in all
directions, and some people, dressed in clothes of that colour, are
already arrested." I saw Madame with M. de Gontaut, and I hastened home.
She found her door besieged by a multitude of people, and was alarmed:
when she got in, she found the Comte de Noailles. "What is all this,
Count?" said she. He said he was come expressly to speak to her, and
they retired to her closet together. The conference was not long. I had
remained in the drawing-room, with Madame's equerry, the Chevalier de
Solent, Gourbillon, her valet de chambre, and some strangers. A great
many details were related; but, the wounds being little more than
scratches, and the garde-du-corps having let fall some contradictions, it
was thought that he was an impostor, who had invented all this story to
bring himself into favour. Before the night was over, this was proved to
be the fact, and, I believe, from his own confession. The King came,
that evening, to see Madame de Pompadour; he spoke of this occurrence
with great sang froid, and said, "The gentleman who wanted to kill me was
a wicked madman; this is a low scoundrel."

When he spoke of Damiens, which was only while his trial lasted, he never
called him anything but that gentleman.

I have heard it said that he proposed having him shut up in a dungeon for
life; but that the horrible nature of the crime made the judges insist
upon his suffering all the tortures inflicted upon like occasions. Great
numbers, many of them women, had a barbarous curiosity to witness the
execution; amongst others, Madame de P------, a very beautiful woman, and
the wife of a Farmer General. She hired two places at a window for
twelve Louis, and played a game of cards in the room whilst waiting for
the execution to begin. On this being told to the King, he covered his
eyes with his hands and exclaimed, "Fi, la Vilaine!" I have been told
that she, and others, thought to pay their court in this way, and
signalise their attachment to the King's person.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.