Читать книгу Memoirs of the Comtesse Du Barry - baron de Etienne-Léon Lamothe-Langon - Страница 15

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The sieur Ledoux—The lettre de cachet—The duc de la Vrillière—Madame de Langeac—M. de Maupeou—Louis XV—The comte Jean

On that very evening, the king having come to me, I said to him,

“Sire, I have made acquaintance with M. de Sartines.”

“What! has he been to make friends with you?”

“Something like it: but he has appeared to me less culpable than I thought. He had only yielded to the solicitation of my personal enemy.”

“You cannot have one at my court, madame; the lieutenant of police would have done well not to have named her to you.”

“Thanks to him, however, I shall now know whom I ought to mistrust. I know also who is the author of the two scurrilous paragraphs.”

“Some scamp, no doubt; some beggarly scoundrel.”

“A monsieur Ledoux.”

“Ah, I know the fellow. His bad reputation has reached me. It must be stopped at last.”

So saying, Louis XV went to the chimney, and pulled the bell-rope with so much vehemence that ten persons answered it at once.

“Send for the duc de la Vrillière; if he be not suitably attired let him come in his night-gown, no matter so that he appear quickly.”

On hearing an order given in this manner a stranger might have supposed the king crazy, and not intent on imprisoning a miserable libeller. I interceded in his favor, but Louis XV, delighted at an opportunity of playing the king at a small cost, told me that it was no person’s business, and he would be dictated to by no one. I was silent, reserving myself until another opportunity when I could undertake the defence of the poor devil.

The duc de la Vrillière arrived, not in a dressing-gown, as the king had authorized, but in magnificent costume. He piqued himself on his expenditure, and always appeared superbly attired, altho’ the splendor of his apparel could not conceal the meanness of his look. He was the oldest secretary of state, and certainly was the least skilful, least esteemed, least considered. Some time after his death some one said of him in the presence of the duc d’Ayen, that he had been an unfortunate man, for he had been all his life the butt of public hatred and universal contempt. “Rather say,” replied the duke, “that he has been a fortunate man; for if justice had been rendered to him according to his deserts, he would have been hanged at least a dozen times.”

The duc d’Ayen was right: M. de la Vrillière was a brazen-faced rogue; a complete thief, without dignity, character, or heart. His cupidity was boundless: the lettres de cachet emanated from his office, and he carried on an execrable trade in them. If any person wished to get rid of a father, brother, or husband, they only had to apply to M. de la Vrillière. He sold the king’s signature to all who paid ready money for it. This man inspired me with an invincible horror and repugnance. For his part, as I was not disgusting, he contented himself with hating me; he was animated against me by his old and avaricious mistress, madame de Langeac, alias Subutin. Langeac could not endure me. She felt that it was better to be the mistress of Louis XV than that of the petit la Vrillière , for so her lover was called at court. I knew that she was no friend of mine, and that her lover sided with the Choiseuls against me; and was consequently the more delighted to see the little scoundrel come to receive the order for avenging me. He entered with an air of embarrassment; and whilst he made me a salute as low as to the king, this latter, in a brief severe tone, ordered him to send the sieur Ledoux to Saint Lazare forthwith. He departed without reply, and half an hour afterwards returned, to say that it was done. The king then said to him,

“Do you know this lady?”

“No, sire.”

“Well, I desire you henceforward to have the greatest consideration for her as my best friend, and whoever wishes to prove his zeal for me, will honor and cherish her.”

The king then invited him to sup with us, and I am sure that during the whole repast I was the hardest morsel he had to digest.

Some days afterwards I made acquaintance with a person much more important than the little duke, and destined to play a great part in the history of France. I mean M. de Maupeou, the late chancellor, who, in his disgrace, would not resign his charge. M. de Maupeou possessed one of those firm and superior minds, which, in spite of all obstacles, change the face of empires. Ardent, yet cool; bold, but reflective; the clamors of the populace did not astonish, nor did any obstacles arrest him. He went on in the direct path which his will chalked out. Quitting the magistracy, he became its most implacable enemy, and after a deadly combat he came off conqueror. He felt that the moment had arrived for freeing royalty from the chains which it had imposed on itself. It was necessary, he has said to me a hundred times, for the kings of France in past ages to have a popular power on which they could rely for the overturning of the feudal power. This power they found in the high magistracy; but since the reign of Louis XIII the mission of the parliaments had finished, the nobility was reduced, and they became no less formidable than the enemy whom they had aided in subduing.

“Before fifty years,” pursued M. de Maupeou, “kings will be nothing in France, and parliaments will be everything.”

Talented, a good speaker, even eloquent, M. de Maupeou possessed qualities which made the greatest enterprises successful. He was convinced that all men have their price, and that it is only to find out the sum at which they are purchasable.* As brave personally as a maréchal of France, his enemies (and he had many) called him a coarse and quarrelsome man. Hated by all, he despised men in a body, and jeered at them individually; but little sensible to the charms of our sex, he only thought of us by freaks, and as a means of relaxation. This is M. de Maupeou, painted to the life. As for his person, you know it as well as I do. I have no need to tell you, that he was little, ugly, and his complexion was yellow, bordering upon green. It must be owned, however, that his face, full of thought and intelligence, fully compensated for all the rest.