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

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Two things were related to me by M. Duclos at the time of the attempt on
the King's life.

The first, relative to the Comte de Sponheim, who was the Duc de
Deux-Ponts, and next in succession to the Palatinate and Electorate of
Bavaria. He was thought to be a great friend to the King, and had made
several long sojourns in France. He came frequently to see Madame. M.
Duclos told us that the Duc de Deux-Ponts, having learned, at Deux-Ponts,
the attempt on the King's life, immediately set out in a carriage for
Versailles: "But remark," said he, "the spirit of 'courtisanerie' of a
Prince, who may be Elector of Bavaria and the Palatinate tomorrow. This
was not enough. When he arrived within ten leagues of Paris, he put on
an enormous pair of jack-boots, mounted a post-horse, and arrived in the
court of the palace cracking his whip. If this had been real impatience,
and not charlatanism, he would have taken horse twenty leagues from
Paris."--"I don't agree with you," said a gentleman whom I did not know;
"impatience sometimes seizes one towards the end of an undertaking, and
one employs the readiest means then in one's power. Besides, the Duc de
Deux-Ponts might wish, by showing himself thus on horseback, to serve the
King, to whom he is attached, by proving to Frenchmen how greatly he is
beloved and honoured in other countries." Duclos resumed: "Well," said
he, "do you know the story of M. de C-----? The first day the King saw
company, after the attempt of Damiens, M. de C----- pushed so vigorously
through the crowd that he was one of the first to come into the King's
presence, but he had on so shabby a black coat that it caught the King's
attention, who burst out laughing, and said, 'Look at C-----, he has had
the skirt of his coat torn off.' M. de C----- looked as if he was only
then first conscious of his loss, and said, 'Sire, there is such a
multitude hurrying to see Your Majesty, that I was obliged to
fight my way through them, and, in the effort, my coat has been
torn.'--'Fortunately it was not worth much,' said the Marquis de Souvre,
'and you could not have chosen a worse one to sacrifice on the
occasion.'"

Madame de Pompadour had been very judiciously advised to get her husband,
M. le Normand, sent to Constantinople, as Ambassador. This would have a
little diminished the scandal caused by seeing Madame de Pompadour, with
the title of Marquise, at Court, and her husband Farmer General at Paris.
But he was so attached to a Paris life, and to his opera habits, that he
could not be prevailed upon to go. Madame employed a certain M.
d'Arboulin, with whom she had been acquainted before she was at Court, to
negotiate this affair. He applied to a Mademoiselle Rem, who had been an
opera-dancer, and who was M. le Normand's mistress. She made him very
fine promises; but she was like him, and preferred a Paris life. She
would do nothing in it.

At the time that plays were acted in the little apartments, I obtained a
lieutenancy for one of my relations, by a singular means, which proves
the value the greatest people set upon the slightest access to the Court.
Madame did not like to ask anything of M. d'Argenson, and, being pressed
by my family, who could not imagine that, situated as I was, it could be
difficult for me to obtain a command for a good soldier, I determined to
go and ask the Comte d'Argenson. I made my request, and presented my
memorial. He received me coldly, and gave me vague answers. I went out,
and the Marquis de V-----, who was in his closet, followed me. "You wish
to obtain a command," said he; "there is one vacant, which is promised me
for one of my proteges; but if you will do me a favour in return, or
obtain one for me, I will give it to you. I want to be a police officer,
and you have it in your power to get me a place." I told him I did not
understand the purport of his jest. "I will tell you," said he;
"Tartuffe is going to be acted in the cabinets, and there is the part of
a police officer, which only consists of a few lines. Prevail upon
Madame de Pompadour to assign me that part, and the command is yours." I
promised nothing, but I related the history to Madame, who said she would
arrange it for me. The thing was done, and I obtained the command, and
the Marquis de V----- thanked Madame as if she had made him a Duke.

The King was often annoyed by the Parliaments, and said a very remarkable
thing concerning them, which M. de Gontaut repeated to Doctor Quesnay in
my presence. "Yesterday," said he, "the King walked up and down the room
with an anxious air. Madame de Pompadour asked him if he was uneasy
about his health, as he had been, for some time, rather unwell. 'No,'
replied he; 'but I am greatly annoyed by all these remonstrances.'--'What
can come of them,' said she, 'that need seriously disquiet Your Majesty?
Are you not master of the Parliaments, as well as of all the rest of the
kingdom?'--'That is true,' said the King; 'but, if it had not been for
these counsellors and presidents, I should never have been stabbed by
that gentleman' (he always called Damiens so). 'Ah! Sire,' cried Madame
de Pompadour. 'Read the trial,' said he. 'It was the language of those
gentlemen he names which turned his head.'--'But,' said Madame, 'I have
often thought that, if the Archbishop--[M. de Beaumont]--could be sent to
Rome--'--'Find anybody who will accomplish that business, and I will give
him whatever he pleases.'" Quesnay said the King was right in all he had
uttered. The Archbishop was exiled shortly after, and the King was
seriously afflicted at being driven to take such a step. "What a pity,"
he often said, "that so excellent a man should be so obstinate."--"And so
shallow," said somebody, one day. "Hold your tongue," replied the King,
somewhat sternly. The Archbishop was very charitable, and liberal to
excess, but he often granted pensions without discernment.

[The following is a specimen of the advantages taken of his natural
kindness. Madame la Caille, who acted the Duennas at the Opera Comique,
was recommended to him as the mother of a family, who deserved his
protection, The worthy prelate asked what he could do for her.
"Monseigneur," said the actress, "two words from your hand to the Duc de
Richelieu would induce him to grant me a demi-part." M. de Beaumont, who
was very little acquainted with the language of the theatre, thought that
a demi-part meant a more liberal portion of the Marshal's alms, and the
note was written in the most pressing manner. The Marshal answered, that
he thanked the Archbishop for the interest he took in the Theatre
Italien, and in Madame la Caille, who was a very useful person at that
theatre; that, nevertheless, she had a bad voice; but that the
recommendation of the Archbishop was to be preferred to the greatest
talents, and that the demi-part was granted.]

He granted one of an hundred louis to a pretty woman, who was very poor,
and who assumed an illustrious name, to which she had no right. The fear
lest she should be plunged into vice led him to bestow such excessive
bounty upon her; and the woman was an admirable dissembler. She went to
the Archbishop's, covered with a great hood, and, when she left him, she
amused herself with a variety of lovers.

Great people have the bad habit of talking very indiscreetly before their
servants. M. de Gontaut once said these words, covertly, as he thought,
to the Duc de ------, "That measures had been taken which would,
probably, have the effect of determining the Archbishop to go to Rome,
with a Cardinal's hat; and that, if he desired it, he was to have a
coadjutor."

A very plausible pretext had been found for making this proposition, and
for rendering it flattering to the Archbishop, and agreeable to his
sentiments. The affair had been very adroitly begun, and success
appeared certain. The King had the air, towards the Archbishop, of
entire unconsciousness of what was going on. The negotiator acted as if
he were only following the suggestions of his own mind, for the general
good. He was a friend of the Archbishop, and was very sure of a liberal
reward. A valet of the Duc de Gontaut, a very handsome young fellow, had
perfectly caught the sense of what was spoken in a mysterious manner. He
was one of the lovers of the lady of the hundred Louis a year, and had
heard her talk of the Archbishop, whose relation she pretended to be. He
thought he should secure her good graces by informing her that great
efforts were being made to induce her patron to reside at Rome, with a
view to get him away from Paris. The lady instantly told the Archbishop,
as she was afraid of losing her pension if he went. The information
squared so well with the negotiation then on foot, that the Archbishop
had no doubt of its truth. He cooled, by degrees, in his conversations
with the negotiator, whom he regarded as a traitor, and ended by breaking
with him. These details were not known till long afterwards. The lover
of the lady having been sent to the Bicetre, some letters were found
among his papers, which gave a scent of the affair, and he was made to
confess the rest.

In order not to compromise the Duc de Gontaut, the King was told that the
valet had come to a knowledge of the business from a letter which he had
found in his master's clothes. The King took his revenge by humiliating
the Archbishop, which he was enabled to do by means of the information he
had obtained concerning the conduct of the lady, his protege. She was
found guilty of swindling, in concert with her beloved valet; but, before
her punishment was inflicted, the Lieutenant of Police was ordered to lay
before Monseigneur a full account of the conduct of his relation and
pensioner. The Archbishop had nothing to object to in the proofs which
were submitted to him; he said, with perfect calmness, that she was not
his relation; and, raising his hands to heaven, "She is an unhappy
wretch," said he, "who has robbed me of the money which was destined for
the poor. But God knows that, in giving her so large a pension, I did
not act lightly. I had, at that time, before my eyes the example of a
young woman who once asked me to grant her seventy louis a year,
promising me that she would always live very virtuously, as she had
hitherto done. I refused her, and she said, on leaving me, 'I must turn
to the left, Monseigneur, since the way on the right is closed against
me: The unhappy creature has kept her word but too well. She found means
of establishing a faro-table at her house, which is tolerated; and she
joins to the most profligate conduct in her own person the infamous trade
of a corrupter of youth; her house is the abode of every vice. Think,
sir, after that, whether it was not an act of prudence, on my part, to
grant the woman in question a pension, suitable to the rank in which I
thought her born, to prevent her abusing the gifts of youth, beauty, and
talents, which she possessed, to her own perdition, and the destruction
of others." The Lieutenant of Police told the King that he was touched
with the candour and the noble simplicity of the prelate. "I never
doubted his virtues," replied the King, "but I wish he would be quiet."
This same Archbishop gave a pension of fifty louis a year to the greatest
scoundrel in Paris. He is a poet, who writes abominable verses; this
pension is granted on condition that his poems are never printed. I
learned this fact from M. de Marigny, to whom he recited some of his
horrible verses one evening, when he supped with him, in company with
some people of quality. He chinked the money in his pocket. "This is my
good Archbishop's," said he, laughing; "I keep my word with him: my poem
will not be printed during my life, but I read it. What would the good
prelate say if he knew that I shared my last quarter's allowance with a
charming little opera-dancer? 'It is the Archbishop, then, who keeps
me,' said she to me; 'Oh, la! how droll that is!'" The King heard this,
and was much scandalised at it. "How difficult it is to do good!" said
he.

The King came into Madame de Pompadour's room, one day, as she was
finishing dressing. "I have just had a strange adventure," said he:
"would you believe that, in going out of my wardroom into my bedroom, I
met a gentleman face to face?"--"My God! Sire," cried Madame, terrified.
"It was nothing," replied he; "but I confess I was greatly surprised: the
man appeared speechless with consternation. 'What do you do here?' said
I, civilly. He threw himself on his knees, saying, 'Pardon me, Sire;
and, above all, have me searched: He instantly emptied his pockets
himself; he pulled off his coat in the greatest agitation and terror: at
last he told me that he was cook to -----, and a friend of Beccari, whom
he came to visit; that he had mistaken the staircase, and, finding all
the doors open, he had wandered into the room in which I found him, and
which he would have instantly left: I rang; Guimard came, and was
astonished enough at finding me tete-a-tete with a man in his shirt. He
begged Guimard to go with him into another room, and to search his whole
person. After this, the poor devil returned, and put on his coat.
Guimard said to me, 'He is certainly an honest man, and tells the truth;
this may, besides, be easily ascertained.' Another of the servants of
the palace came in, and happened to know him. 'I will answer for this
good man,' said, he, 'who, moreover, makes the best 'boeuf a carlate' in
the world.' As I saw the man was so agitated that he could not stand
steady, I took fifty louis out of my bureau, and said, Here, sir, are
fifty Louis, to quiet your alarms: He went out, after throwing himself at
my feet." Madame exclaimed on the impropriety of having the King's
bedroom thus accessible to everybody. He talked with great calmness of
this strange apparition, but it was evident that he controlled himself,
and that he had, in fact, been much frightened, as, indeed, he had reason
to be. Madame highly approved of the gift; and she was the more right in
applauding it, as it was by no means in the King's usual manner. M. de
Marigny said, when I told him of this adventure, that he would have
wagered a thousand louis against the King's making a present of fifty, if
anybody but I had told him of the circumstance. "It is a singular fact,"
continued he, "that all of the race of Valois have been liberal to
excess; this is not precisely the case with the Bourbons, who are rather
reproached with avarice. Henri IV. was said to be avaricious. He gave
to his mistresses, because he could refuse them nothing; but he played
with the eagerness of a man whose whole fortune depends on the game.
Louis XIV. gave through ostentation. It is most astonishing," added he,
"to reflect on what might have happened. The King might actually have
been assassinated in his chamber, without anybody knowing anything of the
matter and without a possibility of discovering the murderer." For more
than a fortnight Madame could not get over this incident.

About that time she had a quarrel with her brother, and both were in the
right. Proposals were made to him to marry the daughter of one of the
greatest noblemen of the Court, and the King consented to create him a
Duke, and even to make the title hereditary. Madame was right in wishing
to aggrandise her brother, but he declared that he valued his liberty
above all things, and that he would not sacrifice it except for a person
he really loved. He was a true Epicurean philosopher, and a man of great
capacity, according to the report of those who knew him well, and judged
him impartially. It was entirely at his option to have had the reversion
of M. de St. Florentin's place, and the place of Minister of Marine, when
M. de Machault retired; he said to his sister, at the time, "I spare you
many vexations, by depriving you of a slight satisfaction. The people
would be unjust to me, however well I might fulfil the duties of my
office. As to M. de St. Florentin's place, he may live five-and-twenty
years, so that I should not be the better for it. Kings' mistresses are
hated enough on their own account; they need not also draw upon,
themselves the hatred which is directed against Ministers." M. Quesnay
repeated this conversation to me.

The King had another mistress, who gave Madame de Pompadour some
uneasiness. She was a woman of quality, and the wife of one of the most
assiduous courtiers.

A man in immediate attendance on the King's person, and who had the care
of his clothes, came to me one day, and told me that, as he was very much
attached to Madame, because she was good and useful to the King, he
wished to inform me that, a letter having fallen out of the pocket of a
coat which His Majesty had taken off, he had had the curiosity to read
it, and found it to be from the Comtesse de ----- who had already yielded
to the King's desires. In this letter, she required the King to give her
fifty thousand crowns in money, a regiment for one of her relations, and
a bishopric for another, and to dismiss Madame in the space of fifteen
days, etc. I acquainted Madame with what this man told me, and she acted
with singular greatness of mind. She said to me, "I ought to inform the
King of this breach of trust of his servant, who may, by the same means,
come to the knowledge of, and make a bad use of, important secrets; but I
feel a repugnance to ruin the man: however, I cannot permit him to remain
near the King's person, and here is what I shall do: Tell him that there
is a place of ten thousand francs a year vacant in one of the provinces;
let him solicit the Minister of Finance for it, and it shall be granted
to him; but, if he should ever disclose through what interest he has
obtained it, the King shall be made acquainted with his conduct. By this
means, I think I shall have done all that my attachment and duty
prescribe. I rid the King of a faithless domestic, without ruining the
individual." I did as Madame ordered me: her delicacy and address
inspired me with admiration. She was not alarmed on account of the lady,
seeing what her pretentions were. "She drives too quick," remarked
Madame, "and will certainly be overturned on the road." The lady died.

"See what the Court is; all is corruption there, from the highest to the
lowest," said I to Madame, one day, when she was speaking to me of some
facts, that had come to my knowledge. "I could tell you many others,"
replied Madame; "but the little chamber, where you often remain, must
furnish you with a sufficient number." This was a little nook, from,
whence I could hear a great part of what passed in Madame's apartment.
The Lieutenant of Police sometimes came secretly to this apartment, and
waited there. Three or four persons, of high consideration, also found
their way in, in a mysterious, manner, and several devotees, who were, in
their hearts, enemies of Madame de Pompadour. But these men had not
petty objects in view: one: required the government of a province;
another, a seat in the Council; a third, a Captaincy of the Guards; and
this man would have obtained it if the Marechale de Mirepoix had not
requested it for her brother, the Prince de Beauvan. The Chevalier du
Muy was not among these apostates; not even the promise of being High
Constable would have tempted him to make up to Madame, still less to
betray his master, the Dauphin. This Prince was, to the last degree,
weary of the station he held. Sometimes, when teased to death by
ambitious people, who pretended to be Catos, or wonderfully devout, he
took part against a Minister against whom he was prepossessed; then
relapsed into his accustomed state of inactivity and ennui.

The King used to say, "My son is lazy; his temper is Polonese--hasty and
changeable; he has no tastes; he cares nothing for hunting, for women, or
for good living; perhaps he imagines that if he were in my place he would
be happy; at first, he would make great changes, create everything anew,
as it were. In a short time he would be as tired of the rank of King as
he now is of his own; he is only fit to live 'en philosophe', with clever
people about him." The King added, "He loves what is right; he is truly
virtuous, and does not want under standing."

M. de St. Germain said, one day, to the King, "To think well of mankind,
one must be neither a Confessor, nor a Minister, nor a Lieutenant of
Police."--"Nor a King," said His Majesty. "Ah! Sire," replied he, "you
remember the fog we had a few days ago, when we could not see four steps
before us. Kings are commonly surrounded by still thicker fogs,
collected around them by men of intriguing character, and faithless
Ministers--all, of every class, unite in endeavouring to make things
appear to Kings in any, light but the true one." I heard this from the
mouth of the famous Comte de St. Germain, as I was attending upon Madame,
who was ill in bed. The King was there; and the Count, who was a welcome
visitor, had been admitted. There were also present, M. de Gontaut,
Madame de Brancas, and the Abbe de Bernis. I remember that the very same
day, after the Count was gone out, the King talked in a style which gave
Madame great pain. Speaking of the King of Prussia, he said, "That is a
madman, who will risk all to gain all, and may, perhaps, win the game,
though he has neither religion, morals, nor principles. He wants to make
a noise in the world, and he will succeed. Julian, the Apostate, did the
same."--"I never saw the King so animated before," observed Madame, when
he was gone out; "and really the comparison with Julian, the Apostate, is
not amiss, considering the irreligion of the King of Prussia. If he gets
out of his perplexities, surrounded as he is by his enemies, he will be
one of the greatest men in history."

M. de Bernis remarked, "Madame is correct in her judgment, for she has no
reason to pronounce his praises; nor have I, though I agree with what she
says." Madame de Pompadour never enjoyed so much influence as at the
time when M. de Choiseul became one of the Ministry. From the time of
the Abbe de Bernis she had afforded him her constant support, and he had
been employed in foreign affairs, of which he was said to know but
little. Madame made the Treaty of Sienna, though the first idea of it
was certainly furnished her by the Abbe. I have been informed by several
persons that the King often talked to Madame upon this subject; for my
own part, I never heard any conversation relative to it, except the high
praises bestowed by her on the Empress and the Prince de Kaunitz, whom
she had known a good deal of. She said that he had a clear head, the
head of a statesman. One day, when she was talking in this strain, some
one tried to cast ridicule upon the Prince on account of the style in
which he wore his hair, and the four valets de chambre, who made the
hair-powder fly in all directions, while Kaunitz ran about that he might
only catch the superfine part of it. "Aye," said Madame, "just as
Alcibiades cut off his dog's tail in order to give the Athenians
something to talk about, and to turn their attention from those things he
wished to conceal."

Never was the public mind so inflamed against Madame de Pompadour as when
news arrived of the battle of Rosbach. Every day she received anonymous
letters, full of the grossest abuse; atrocious verses, threats of poison
and assassination. She continued long a prey to the most acute sorrow,
and could get no sleep but from opiates. All this discontent was excited
by her protecting the Prince of Soubise; and the Lieutenant of Police had
great difficulty in allaying the ferment of the people. The King
affirmed that it was not his fault. M. du Verney was the confidant of
Madame in everything relating to war; a subject which he well understood,
though not a military man by, profession. The old Marechal de Noailles
called him, in derision, the General of the flour, but Marechal Saxe, one
day, told Madame that Du Verney knew more of military matters than the
old Marshal. Du Verney once paid a visit to Madame de Pompadour, and
found her in company with the King, the Minister of War, and two
Marshals; he submitted to them the plan of a campaign, which was
generally applauded. It was through his influence that M. de Richelieu
was appointed to the command of the army, instead of the Marechal
d'Estrdes. He came to Quesnay two days after, when I was with him. The
Doctor began talking about the art of war, and I remember he said,
"Military men make a great mystery of their art; but what is the reason
that young Princes have always the most brilliant success? Why, because
they are active and daring. When Sovereigns command their troops in
person what exploits they perform! Clearly, because they are at liberty
to run all risks." These observations made a lasting impression on my
mind.

The first physician came, one day, to see Madame he was talking of madmen
and madness. The King was present, and everything relating to disease of
any kind interested him. The first physician said that he could
distinguish the symptoms of approaching madness six months beforehand.
"Are there any persons about the Court likely to become mad?" said the
King.--"I know one who will be imbecile in less than three months,"
replied he. The King pressed him to tell the name. He excused himself
for some time. At last he said, "It is M. de Sechelles, the
Controller-General."--"You have a spite against him," said Madame,
"because he would not grant what you asked"--"That is true," said he,
"but though that might possibly incline me to tell a disagreeable truth,
it would not make me invent one. He is losing his intellects from
debility. He affects gallantry at his age, and I perceive the connection
in his ideas is becoming feeble and irregular."--The King laughed; but
three months afterwards he came to Madame, saying, "Sechelles gives
evident proofs of dotage in the Council. We must appoint a successor to
him." Madame de Pompadour told me of this on the way to Choisy. Some
time afterwards, the first physician came to see Madame, and spoke to her
in private. "You are attached to M. Berryer, Madame," said he, "and I am
sorry to have to warn you that he will be attacked by madness, or by
catalepsy, before long. I saw him this morning at chapel, sitting on one
of those very low little chairs, which are only, meant to kneel upon.
His knees touched his chin. I went to his house after Mass; his eyes
were wild, and when his secretary spoke to him, he said, 'Hold your
tongue, pen. A pen's business is to write, and not to speak.'" Madame,
who liked the Keeper of the Seals, was very much concerned, and begged
the first physician not to mention what he had perceived. Four days
after this, M. Berryer was seized with catalepsy, after having talked
incoherently. This is a disease which I did not know even by name, and
got it written down for me. The patient remains in precisely the same
position in which the fit seizes him; one leg or arm elevated, the eyes
wide open, or just as it may happen. This latter affair was known to all
the Court at the death of the Keeper of the Seals.

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