M E M I R S 
 
 THE COURT OP 
 
 HUE ANTOINETTE, 
 
 QUEEN OF FRANCE. 
 
 BY MADAME CAMPAN, 
 
 FIRST LADY OF THE BEDCHAMBER TO THE QUEEN. 
 
 ?HK THIRD LONDON EDITION; WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL 
 INTRODUCTION FROM "THE HEROIC WOMEN OF 
 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION," 
 
 BY M. DE LAMARTINE, 
 
 MEMBER OF THE EXECUTIVE GOVERNMENT OF FRAXCE. 
 
 t:W EDITION, WITH THREE ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 PAKKY \- MCMILLAN, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO A. HART, LATE CAREY & HART. 
 
 1854.
 
 Printed by T. K & P. G Collins.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE BY M. DE LAMAKTINE ill 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OF MADAME CAMFAN vii 
 
 AUTHOR'S PREFACE xlvii 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 COURT OF LOUIS XV. HIS CHARACTER THE KING'S DEBOTTER CHARAC- 
 TERS OF THE PRINCESSES RETIREMENT OF MADAME LOUISE TO THE CAR- 
 MELITES OF SAINT DENIS MADAME DU BARRY THE COURT DIVIDED 
 BETWEEN THE PARTY OF THE DUKE DE CHOISEUL AND THAT OF THE DUKE 
 D'AIGUILLON 53 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BIRTH OF MARIE ANTOINETTE ATTENDED BY A MEMORABLE CALAMITY 
 A FEATURE OF MARIA THERESA'S CHARACTER EDUCATION OF THE ARCH- 
 DUCHESSES PRECEPTORS PROVIDED FOR MARIE ANTOINETTE BY THE COURT 
 OF VIENNA PRECEPTOR SENT*HER BY THE COURT OF FRANCE ABBE DE 
 VERMOND CHANGE IN THE FRENCH MINISTRY CARDINAL DE ROHAN SUC- 
 CEEDS BARON DE BRETEUIL, AS AMBASSADOR AT VIENNA PORTRAIT OF 
 THAT PRELATE 68 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE ARCHDUCHESS IN FRANCE BRILLIANT RECEPTION OF 
 THE DAUPHINESS AT VERSAILLES SHE CHARMS LOUIS XV. MADAME DU 
 BARRY'S JEALOUSY COURT INTRIGUES THE DAUPHIN HIS BROTHERS, 
 AND THEIR WIVES . .78 
 
 2040323
 
 CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PACK 
 
 DEATH OF LOUIS XV. PICTURE OF THE COURT MADAME DU BARRY 
 DISMISSED DEPARTURE OF THE COURT TO CHOISY M. DE MAUREPAS 
 MINISTER INFLUENCE OF EXAMPLE UPON THE COURTIERS ENTHUSIASM 
 
 RAISED BY THE NEW REIGN MOURNING AT LA MUETTE THE QUEEN 
 
 THE KING AND THE PRINCES, HIS BROTHERS, ARE INOCULATED STAY AT 
 MARLY CALUMNIES AGAINST THE QUEEN BCEHMER, THE JEWELLER 
 MADEMOISELLE BERTIN CHANGES OF FASHION SIMPLICITY OF THE 
 COURT OF VIENNA EXTREME TEMPERANCE, DECORUM, AND MODESTY OF 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE .96 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 REVISION OF THE PAPERS OF LOUIS XV. BY LOUIS XVI. MAN IN THE 
 TRON MASK THE LATE KING'S INTEREST IN CERTAIN FINANCIAL COM- 
 PANIES REPRESENTATION OF IPHIGENIA IN AULIS THE KING GIVES 
 MTTLE TRIANON TO THE QUEEN THE ARCHDUKE MAXIMILIAN'S JOURNEY 
 TO FRANCE QUESTIONS OF PRECEDENCE MISADVENTURE OF THE ARCH- 
 DUKE LYING-IN OF THE COUNTESS D'ARTOIS THE POISSARDES CRY OUT 
 TO THE QUEEN TO GIVE HEIRS TO THE THRONE DEATH OF THE DUKE 
 DE LA VAUGUYON PORTRAIT OF LOUIS XVI. OF THE COUNT DE PRO- 
 VENCE OF THE COUNT D*ARTOIS \ 118 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SEVERE WINTER THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE APPOINTED SUPERIN- 
 TENDENT OF THE HOUSEHOLD THE COUNTESS JULES DE POLIGNAC APPEARS 
 AT COURT PORTRAIT OF M. DE VAUDREUIL DUKE AND DUCHESS DE DURAS 
 FASHIONABLE GAMES 135 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE DUKE DE CHOISEUL RETURNS TO COURT THE QUEEN OBTAINS A 
 
 PENSION OF 1200 FRANCS FOR CHAMFORT SHE INVITES GLUCK TO FRANCE 
 
 AND PATRONIZES MUSIC SUCCESSFULLY ENCOURAGEMENT GIVEN TO THE 
 ART OF PRINTING TURGOT : M. DE SAINT GERMAIN AMUSEMENT AT COURT 
 
 PARTICULARS OF THE HOUSEHOLD MASKED BALLS AT THE OPERA THE 
 
 QUEEN GOES THERE ONE DAY IN A FIACRE ; SLANDEROUS REPORTS UPON 
 
 THE SUBJECT THE HERON PLUME PORTRAIT OF THE DUKE DE LAUZUN 
 
 THE QUEEN'S ATTACHMENT TO THE PRINCESS HE LAMBALLE AND THE 
 DUCHESS DE POLIGNAC ANECDOTE OF THE ABBE DE VERMOND . . 148
 
 CONTENTS. T 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PAG* 
 
 JOSEPH THE SECOND VISITS FRANCE HIS RECEPTION AT THE OPERA 
 
 FETE GIVEN TO HIM BY THE QUEEN AT TRIANON FIRST PREGNANCY OF 
 
 THE QUEEN VOLTAIRE'S RETURN TO PARIS DUEL BETWEEN THE COUNT 
 
 D'ARTOIS AND THE DUKE DE BOURBON RETURN OF THE CHEVALIER D'EON 
 TO FRANCE PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO HIS MISSIONS, AND THE CAUSES 
 
 OF HIS DISGUISE NIGHT PROMENADES UPON THE TERRACE OF TRIANON 
 
 COUPLETS AGAINST THE QUEEN INDIGNATION OF LOUIS XVI. THE BIRTH 
 
 OF MADAME 165 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PUBLIC REJOICINGS DEATH OF MARIA THERESA ; THE QUEEN'S AFFLIC- 
 TION ANECDOTES OF MARIA THERESA BIRTH OF THE DAUPHIN BANK- 
 RUPTCY OF THE PRINCE DE GUEMENEE THE DUCHESS DE POL1GNAC IS 
 APPOINTED GOVERNESS OF THE CHILDREN OF FRANCE JEALOUSY OF THE 
 
 COURT PEOPLE INTERESTING PARTICULARS STAY AT TRIANON MODE 
 
 OF LIFE THERE PRESUMPTION OF THE DUKE DE FRONSAC AMERICAN 
 WAR FRANKLIN M. DE LA FAYETTE ORDER FOR ADMITTING NONE BUT 
 GENTLEMEN TO THE RANK OF OFFICER SPIRIT OF THE THIRD ESTATE . 186 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 VISIT OF THE GRAND DUKE OF RUSSIA AND HIS DUCHESS TO FRANCE- 
 ENTERTAINMENT AND SUPPER AT TRIANON CARDINAL DE ROHAN COLD 
 
 RECEPTION GIVEN TO COUNT D ? HAGA (GUSTAVUS HI., KING OF SWEDEN) 
 
 PEACE WITH ENGLAND THE ENGLISH FLOCK INTO FRANCE CONDUCT TO 
 
 BE OBSERVED AT COURT MISSION OF THE CHEVALIER DE BRESSAC TO THE 
 QUEEN COURT OF NAPLES QUEEN CAROLINE, THE MINISTER ACTON 
 DEBATES BETWEEN THE COURTS OF NAPLES AND MADRID INSOLENT REPLY 
 OF THE SPANISH AMBASSADOR TO QUEEN CAROLINE INTERFERENCE OF 
 FRANCE MM. DE SEGUR AND DE CASTRIES APPOINTED MINISTERS THROUGH 
 THE QUEEN'S INFLUENCE TREACHERY OF M. DE MAUREPAS TOWARDS 
 M. NECKER APPOINTMENT OF M. DE CALONNE JUDICIOUS REFLECTIONS 
 OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 210 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE QUEEN IS DISSATISFIED WITH THE APPOINTMENT OF M. DE CALONNE 
 ACTS OF BENEVOLENCE PURCHASE OF SAINT CLOUD REGULATIONS OF IN- 
 TERNAL POLICE : IN THE QUEEN'S NAME STATE OF FRANCE BEAUMAR- 
 CHA1S MARRIAGE OF FIGARO CHARACTER OF M. DE VAUDREUIL . . 228 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, AND ANECDOTES, BY MADAME CAMPAJT . 239 
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS BY MADAME CAMPAN 279 
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS AND OFFICAL DOCUMENTS . 294
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE, 
 
 BY 
 
 M. DE LAMARTINE. 
 
 THE first of the characters of the Heroic Women of the 
 French Revolution, is Marie Antoinette, entitled to this pre- 
 eminence, whether in reference to the elevation of her rank, 
 the great influence she had on the Revolution, or the im- 
 mensity of her misfortunes. The daughter of kings, the wife 
 and mother of kings, the cynosure of all eyes in the most elegant 
 and polished capital of the world ; profuse amid profusion, the 
 envied and admired of all beholders, for station, personal charms, 
 and all the accessories which power, a throne, and youth, can 
 bring to happiness ; she saw that power annihilated, her throne 
 overturned, her husband murdered, her friends and adherents 
 massacred and exiled, her son handed over to a profligate and 
 debased ruffian (worse than death), her sister and daughter in 
 prison, herself in a dungeon and in rags, deprived of the common 
 necessaries, and debarred of all the sympathies that make life 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 ir BIOGBAPHICAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 dear even in the hovel ; the scoff of the indigent and outcast 
 wretches, whose existence is a disgrace to civilization. Who can 
 measure such a depth of woe ? What pen can do justice to 
 such a fall ? Her first-born and her lord, her sorrows for her 
 fallen state and dignity, herself the sport of circumstance and 
 football of fortune : or else appalling them by their chorus, 
 revealing the tremendous fulfilments of Providence's retributive 
 decrees on the iniquities of a race, in the crash of empire, and 
 the downfall of a line of despots, consummated in the least 
 offending and most harmless of all. 
 
 Marie Antoinette seemed to have been created by Nature to 
 contrast with the King, and to entail the eternal interest and 
 pity of posterity on one of those State dramas, which are imper- 
 fect unless the misfortunes of a woman complete them. Daughter 
 of Maria Theresa, she had begun life in the ptorms of the 
 Austrian monarchy, being one of the children the Empress held 
 by the hand, when she presented herself as a suppliant before 
 the faithful Hungarians, and those troops shouted, "Let us die 
 for our King, Maria Theresa." Her daughter, too, had the 
 heart of a king. On her arrival in France, her beauty had 
 dazzled the kingdom : that beauty was now in its full splendour.* 
 She was of a tall and flexible figure : a true daughter of the 
 Tyrol. The two children she had given the throne, far from 
 injuring, added to the impression of her person that character 
 of maternal majesty which sits well on the mother of a nation. 
 The presentiment of her misfortunes, the remembrance of the 
 tragic scenes of Versailles, the inquietudes of each day, had 
 rather paled her early bloom, at the time we are describing her. 
 The natural majesty of her person took nothing from the grace 
 
 * After the return of the King from Versailles to Paris.
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION. v 
 
 of her movements : her neck, well detached from her shoulders, 
 had those magnificent inflexions which give so much expression 
 to the attitudes. The woman was perceptible beneath the queen, 
 the tenderness of her heart under the majesty of her condition. 
 Her auburn hair was long and silky ; her lofty and rather pro- 
 jecting forehead joined the temples, in those fine curves which 
 impart so much delicacy and sensibility to that seat of thought 
 or soul in woman ; her eyes of that clear blue, which recalls the 
 sky of the North, or the waters of the Danube; the aquiline 
 nose a sign of courage; a large mouth, brilliant teeth, and 
 Austrian, that is, pouting lips ; the contour of her face was oval, 
 the physiognomy versatile in expression, and impassioned ; in 
 the whole of her features that splendour which cannot be de- 
 scribed, which darts from the look, the shadow, the reflections 
 of the countenance, enveloping the whole in a halo, resembling 
 the warm and coloured vapour in which objects touched by the 
 sun float; last expression of beauty which invests it with the 
 ideal, renders it charming and changes its attractions. With all 
 these charms, a soul thirsting for attachment, a heart easily 
 moved, but asking only to be fixed ; a smile pensive and intelli- 
 gent, which had nothing vulgar in intimacies and preferences, 
 because she felt herself worthy of friendship. This was Marie 
 Antoinette, as a woman.
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 MADAME CAMPAN. 
 
 THE private history of royal personages is a subject of gene- 
 ral interest. Their public actions are too much disguised by 
 formality, and restricted by ceremony, to afford any insight into 
 their inclinations or personal character. In order to reach these 
 elevated mortals, we must strip them of the lustre which daz- 
 zles us, and of the pomp in which they are enveloped. To such 
 an eminence docs fortune raise them, that, but for the indiscre- 
 tions of those who surround them, they would almost be regarded 
 as beings of a superior race. Our curiosity is also frequently 
 stimulated by a jealous feeling. The envy excited by the great- 
 ness of princes, is allayed by the contemplation of the appetites, 
 passions, and caprices in which they resemble the rest of man- 
 kind ; the self-love which their glory offends, is appeased by their 
 weaknesses. 
 
 The memoirs of Marie Antoinette will excite neither malig- 
 nity nor envy. Can there yet exist a feeling adverse to her, 
 which the recollection of her misfortunes does not convert into 
 pity ? Scarcely has her brilliant appearance fixed our admira- 
 tion, when her woes claim our compassion. Whilst the heart is 
 still yielding to the fascination of her charms, it is wrung by her 
 sorrows : her happy hours are fled, before we have time to sym- 
 pathize in her short-lived felicity. Amidst the rejoicings with 
 which France hails her appearance, the courtly throngs who pay 
 
 2*
 
 viii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 homage to her, the gardens in which her simple taste delights, 
 our imagination is impressed with the fate that awaits her. From 
 the saloons of Versailles, or the groves of Trianon, we seem to 
 descry the towers of the Temple. Were it possible for the most 
 rigid severity to conceive the slightest reproach against her, it 
 would die on the lips, amidst the sighs of regret, and the accents 
 of grief. 
 
 Madame Campan's work will leave similar impressions. She 
 had numerous enemies. At court, where favour is closely fol- 
 lowed by envy, her success created jealousies; she was punished, 
 at the time of the Revolution, for the kindness with which she 
 had been honoured by the Queen. Those who never felt, as she 
 did, the point of the sword on their bosoms, on the memorable 
 10th of August, reproached her with timidity : those who never 
 threw themselves, like her, at the feet of Petion, entreating per- 
 mission to share the dangerous captivity of Marie Antoinette, 
 have called her fidelity in question. After having calumniated 
 her conduct, they endeavoured to raise a prejudice against the 
 spirit in which her Memoirs are written, even before their appear- 
 ance. These Memoirs are now published, and I have the gra- 
 tification of witnessing the confusion of disappointed malevo- 
 lence. Madame Campan has taken care not to furnish a triumph 
 to her enemies. A fragment of her manuscripts contains the 
 following passage : 
 
 "I shall relate what I have seen. I shall make known the 
 character of Marie Antoinette, her domestic habits, the way in 
 which she spent her time, her maternal affection, her constancy 
 in friendship, her dignity in misfortune. I shall, in some degree, 
 throw open her private apartments, where I have passed so many 
 hours with her, both in the happiest and the most sorrowful 
 years of her life." 
 
 She afterwards adds, in another inedited passage : 
 
 " I have lived long ; fortune has afforded me opportunities of 
 seeing and forming an opinion of the celebrated women of seve- 
 ral periods. I have been intimate with young persons, whose 
 elegance and amiable disposition will be remembered long after
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. is 
 
 they have ceased to exist ; but never have I found, in any class 
 or age, a woman of so fascinating a character as Marie Antoi- 
 nette ; one who, notwithstanding the dazzling splendour of 
 royalty, retained such tenderness of heart j who, under the pres- 
 sure of her own misfortunes, showed more sensibility to the woes 
 of others. I never saw one so heroic in danger, so eloquent 
 when occasion required, so unreservedly gay in prosperity." 
 
 These words are sufficient to make known the character of the 
 work, the lively interest which animates it, and the sentiments 
 in which it originated. They almost induce me to pity the ene- 
 mies of Madame Campan, whose hatred and hopes will be equally 
 disappointed by these Memoirs, which are piquant without the 
 aid of scandal, and in which the simple truth excites our deepest 
 sympathy.* 
 
 Let us now take a brief survey of her family, and her early 
 years. 
 
 JEANNE LO.UISE HENRIETTE GENET was born at Paris, on the 
 Gth of October, 1752. M. Genet, her father, had obtained, through 
 his own merit and the protection of the Duke de Choiseul, the 
 place of the first clerk in the oifice of the minister for foreign 
 affairs. Literature, which he had cultivated in his youth, was 
 now the solace of his leisure hours. 
 
 Surrounded by a numerous family, he made the instruction of 
 his children his chief recreation ; and omitted nothing which 
 was necessary to render them highly accomplished. The pro- 
 gress of the youthful Henriette, in the study of music and of 
 
 * A brief explanation, relative to the ensuing Notice, appears neces- 
 sary. None of the passages or anecdotes which it contains, will be 
 found in the Memoirs. For the anecdotes, I am indebted to the recol- 
 lection of the relations, friends, and pupils of Madame Campan. In 
 the perusal of her manuscripts, correspondence, and other papers, I 
 have collected interesting fragments, of which I have not hesitated 
 to make use. They give a tone of truth, both to the minutest particu- 
 lars and most important facts, which cannot fail to be attractive and 
 gratifying. These fragments are the more valuable from their being 
 entirely in Madame Carnpan's handwriting ; they will be distin- 
 guished accordingly, whenever quoted in the following pages.
 
 x BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 foreign languages, was such as to surprise the first masters ; the 
 celebrated Albaneze instructed her in singing, and Goldoni taught 
 her the Italian language. Tasso, Milton, Dante, and even 
 Shakspeare, soon became familiar to her. But her exercises 
 were particularly directed to the acquisition of a fine style of 
 reading. From prose to verse, from an ode to an epistle, a co- 
 medy, or a sermon, she was instructed to pass, with the requisite 
 variations of modulation and delivery. Rochon de Chabannes, 
 Duclos, Barthe, Marmontel, and Thomas, took pleasure in hear- 
 ing her recite the finest scenes of Racine. Her memory and 
 genius, at the age of fourteen, charmed them ; they talked of 
 her talents in society ; and, perhaps, applauded them too highly. 
 A young female is always sure to pay dearly for the celebrity 
 she acquires : if she is beautiful, all the women become her 
 rivals ; if she has talents, there are many of the other sex weak 
 enough to be jealous of them. 
 
 Mademoiselle Genet was spoken of at court. Some ladies of 
 high rank, who took an interest in the welfare of her family, ob- 
 tained for her the place of reader to the princesses ; and a week 
 afterwards she left her father's house. To be at court, to wear 
 a long train, a hoop, and perhaps even rouge here was a change ! 
 here was joy ! Her presentation, and the circumstances which 
 preceded it, left a strong impression on her mind. "I was then 
 fifteen," she says, in a memorandum which she did not intend 
 for the press ; " my father felt some regret at yielding me up, 
 at so early an age, to the malignity of courtiers. When I put 
 on my court dress, for the first time, and went to embrace him 
 in his study, tears filled his eyes, and mingled with the expression 
 of his pleasure. I possessed some agreeable talents, in addition 
 to the instruction which it had been his delight to bestow on me. 
 He enumerated all my little accomplishments, to convince me 
 of the vexations they would not fail to draw upon me. " The 
 princesses ," said he, " will take pleasure in exercising your 
 talents ; the great have the art of applauding gracefully, and 
 always to excess. Be not too much elated with these compliments, 
 rather let them put you on your guard. Every time you receive
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xi 
 
 such flattering marks of approbation, the number of your ene- 
 mies will increase. I am warning you, my love, of the inevi- 
 table troubles attached to the course of life on which you are 
 entering ; and I protest to you, even now, whilst you are thus 
 transported with your good fortune, that could I have provided 
 for you otherwise, I would never have abandoned my dear girl 
 to the anxieties and dangers of a court." 
 
 " This language," adds Madame Campan, who wrote these 
 lines at St. Germain, in 1796, under the government of the Di- 
 rectory, " might lead one to imagine that my father had a prin- 
 ciple of republicanism in his heart ; but this would be an error. 
 He was a royalist in his political opinions, but he knew and 
 dreaded the abode of royalty. One may be a royalist and yet a 
 philosopher; just as a republican may sometimes be an in- 
 triguing, ambitious character." 
 
 Mademoiselle Genet, at fifteen, was somewhat less of a philo- 
 sopher than her father was at forty. Her eyes were dazzled by 
 the splendour which glittered at Versailles. " The Queen, 
 Maria Leckzinska, the wife of Louis XV. died," she says, "just 
 before I was presented at court. The grand apartments hung 
 with black, the great chairs of state raised on several steps, and 
 surmounted by a canopy adorned with plumes ; the caparisoned 
 horses, the immense retinue in court mourning, the enormous 
 shoulder-knots, embroidered with gold and silver spangles, which 
 decorated the coats of the pages and footmen all this magnifi- 
 cence had such an effect on my senses, that I could scarcely 
 support myself when introduced to the princesses. On the first 
 day of my reading in the inner apartment of the princess Vic- 
 toire, I found it impossible to pronounce more than two sen- 
 tences; my heart palpitated, my voice faltered, and my sight failed. 
 How well was the potent magic of the grandeur and dignity 
 which ought to surround sovereigns understood at Versailles ! 
 Marie Antoinette, dressed in white, with a plain straw hat and 
 a little switch in her hand, walking on foot, followed by a single 
 servant, through the walks leading to the Petit Trianon, would 
 never have thus disconcerted me ; and I believe this extreme sim-
 
 rii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 plicity was the first and only real fault of all those with which 
 she is reproached." 
 
 When once her awe and confusion had subsided, Mademoiselle 
 Genet was enabled to form a more accurate judgment of her 
 situation ; it was by no means attractive ; the court of the prin- 
 cesses, far removed from the revels and licentious pleasures to 
 which Louis XV. was addicted, was grave, methodical, and dull. 
 Madame Adelaide, the eldest of the princesses, lived secluded 
 in the interior of her apartments ; Madame Sophie was haughty ; 
 Madame Louise, a devotee. The gloomy pleasures of pride, and 
 the exercises of scrupulous devotion, have few charms for youth. 
 Mademoiselle Genet, however, never quitted the princesses' apart- 
 ments, but she attached herself most particularly to Madame 
 Victoire. This princess had possessed beauty; her countenance 
 bore an expression of benevolence, and her conversation was 
 kind, free, and unaifected. Mademoiselle Genet excited in her 
 that feeling which a woman in years, of an affectionate disposi- 
 tion, readily extends to young people who are growing up in her 
 sight, and who already possess some useful talents. Whole days 
 were passed in reading to the princess, as she sat at work in her 
 apartment. Mademoiselle Genet often saw Louis XV. there. 
 In the circle of her intimate friends she would sometimes relate 
 the following anecdote : 
 
 " One day, at the castle of Compiegne, the King came in 
 whilst I was reading to Madame. I rose and went into another 
 room. Alone, in an apartment to which there was no outlet 
 with no book but a Massillon, which I had been reading to the 
 princess happy in all the lightness and gayety of fifteen, I 
 amused myself with turning swiftly round, with my court hoop, 
 and suddenly kneeling down to see my rose-coloured silk petticoat 
 swelled around me by the wind. In the midst of this grave 
 employment enters his majesty, followed by the princess. I 
 attempt to rise ; my feet stumble, and down I fall in the midst 
 of my robes, puffed out by the wind. "Daughter" said Louis 
 XV. laughing heartily, " I advise you to send a reader that 
 maker cheeses bark to school"
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xiii 
 
 There was nothing very severe in this lesson. But the rail- 
 leries of Louis XV. were often much more poignant, as Made- 
 moiselle Genet had already experienced on another occasion, 
 which, thirty years afterwards, she could not relate without an 
 emotion of surprise and fear, which it seemed as if she had never 
 overcome. " Louis XV.," she said, '.' had the most imposing 
 presence. His eyes remained fixed upon you all the time he 
 was speaking ; and notwithstanding the beauty of his features, 
 he inspired a sort of fear. I was very young, it is true, when 
 he first spoke to me ; you shall judge whether it was in a very 
 gracious manner. I was fifteen. The King was going out to 
 hunt ; a numerous retinue followed him ; he stopped opposite 
 me. ' Mademoiselle Genet/ said he, ' I am assured you are 
 very learned, and understand four or five foreign languages.' ' I 
 know only two, sire/ I answered, trembling. ' Which are they ?' 
 1 English and Italian.' ' Do you speak them fluently ?' ( Yes, 
 sire, very fluently.' 'That is quite enough to drive a husband 
 mad.' After this pretty compliment the King went on ; the 
 retinue saluted me, laughing ; and for my part, I remained mo- 
 tionless with surprise and confusion for some moments on the 
 spot." 
 
 It would, however, have been well if Louis XV. had never 
 indulged in more cutting repartees. Kings have no right to be 
 scoffers : raillery is a warfare that requires equal arms ; and one 
 can never banter to advantage with a wit who commands twenty 
 millions of men. Justice however demands the acknowledgment, 
 that although this monarch was often the aggressor, he endured 
 the smartest retorts without losing his temper. Even the unex- 
 pected familiarity of attacks of this kind might be a pungent 
 novelty to a King, so long wearied by the burthen of greatness. 
 With an easy temper, a melancholy turn, a satirical genius, this 
 prince, majestic in his court, irresolute in council, agreeable (it 
 is said) at an evening party, could not escape from ennui without 
 the aid of intemperance or debauchery. A woman, whose youth 
 and beauty were sullied by prostitution, astonished Versailles at 
 this time by the disgraceful influence she had acquired. Ma-
 
 xiv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 dame du Barry was effecting the dismissal of the minister, who 
 had just negotiated the marriage of the dauphin with the arch- 
 duchess Marie Antoinette of Austria. The intrigues of the 
 favourite, the rivalship between the -Dukes de Choiseul and 
 d'Aiguillon, the disgrace, of the one, and the shameful eleva- 
 tion of the other, occupied the last moments of the reign of 
 Louis XV. 
 
 The Duke de Choiseul, fickle, haughty, and violent, but 
 agreeable, brilliant, and generous, had an active mind, great 
 talents, and vast ideas. By means of alterations which had be- 
 come necessary in the army, new establishments in the navy, 
 new institutions and alliances, he wished to raise France from 
 the abasement into which she had sunk through a long series of 
 reverses. He sought the support of public opinion; was a 
 friend to parliaments, an enemy to the Jesuits, and wielded power 
 with a light and jpsy hand, llesistunce, provided it was open 
 and honourable, cBd not exasperate him ; he had faith in the 
 docility of a nation, whose government wished to render it 
 happy at home, powerful and respectable abroad. His pride, a 
 natural failing, became a virtue, when it taught him never to 
 Btoop to flatter shameful caprices. He was beloved whilst in 
 power ; sought, I had almost said flattered, when in exile ; and 
 he even inspired courtiers with courage to remain faithful to the 
 unfortunate; a virtue they had never known before. 
 
 D'Aiguillon, with much address, boldness, and perseverance, 
 was obdurate, despotic, and tyrannical ; in his command, as well 
 as in the ministry, his authority was only evinced by his severi- 
 ties. He gained credit for talents, because he possessed the 
 spirit of intrigue, and much ambition; but the division of Po- 
 land, effected, as it were, in his sight, has for ever blasted his 
 reputation as a politician and a man. As a subtle courtier, a 
 bad man, and an unskilful minister, he became obnoxious to 
 public hatred, which, though he defied it, overwhelmed him 
 at last. 
 
 The Duke d'Aiguillon did not understand, that force is but 
 one of the least springs of power, when power is not supported
 
 OP MADAME CAMPAN.^. rv 
 
 by the confidence created by extensive information, great services 
 performed, and, above all, by striking successes. He was de- 
 ceived by the example of his grandfather. Richelieu, while he 
 oppressed the great, rendered essential services to France ; his 
 genius induced the nation to overlook his despotism. The abase- 
 ment of Austria ; the humiliation of Spain ; the violent restora- 
 tion of order in the state ; the honours of literature ; the encou- 
 '*- ragcment of commerce, redeemed, in a great degree, the tyran- 
 nical acts of which he -is justly accused. He imparted to the 
 measures of government something of the loftiness of his own 
 character. Undoubtedly he was feared, but he commanded 
 admiration ; and nothing induces people to forgive attacks made 
 upon their rights, except the glory which dazzles them, or the 
 happiness they enjoy. 
 
 The Duke de Choiseul has been reproached with having aban- 
 doned the system of foreign policy eonceivedfby Cardinal Riche- 
 lieu ] it seems to me, that it would be more just to accuse the 
 Duke d'Aiguillon of having eudeavoured, at a later period, to 
 follow that system, without understanding it. Since the time 
 of Louis XIII., France and Austria had changed places; the 
 one still rising, the other sinking. Under Louis XV. the house 
 of .Bourbon reigned at Naples and Madrid, as well as at Ver- 
 sailles. The triumphs of the arms of France, or the wisdom of 
 her treaties, had successively acquired Alsace, Franche-Comte, 
 Flanders, and Lorraine. The magnanimous Maria Theresa had 
 .just replaced a mutilated crown on her head ; the pride of the 
 heiress of Rodolph of Hapsburgh had stooped so low as to natter 
 the -vanity of Jeanne Poisson, Marchioness of Pompadour, by 
 calling her her friend. A warlike power suddenly arising close 
 to Austria, excited her jealousy, and occupied her attention and 
 her forces. The Duke de Choiseul, being minister, was at 
 liberty to direct his attention to a greater distance. 
 
 After the battle of Pultowa, Russia, long confined to the 
 frozen regions of the north, began to be reckoned as one of the 
 European powers. Four women, successively placed on the 
 
 VOL. i. 3
 
 - 
 
 xvi BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 throne of the Czars, had completed the work of a great man 
 A persevering system of aggrandisement, and, what is more 
 extraordinary, a system openly declared, was rapidly carrying 
 into effect. Now that Russia has adopted only so much of the 
 arts and civilization of Europe as may increase her military 
 power, without enervating her soldiers ; now that these people, 
 born on a barren soil, in a severe climate, have breathed the 
 sweet, pure air of our countries, if that powerful colossus, which 
 already presses the centre of Europe, should, with its extended 
 arms, succeed in reaching from the Baltic to the Mediterranean, 
 what refuge, what rampart, would remain for the independence 
 of the threatened nations ? They could find no security but in 
 the coalition of the southern states; which is precisely the 
 object of the family compact, prudently conceived, and effected 
 with address by the Duke de Choiseul, which strengthened the 
 alliance with Austria. Instead, therefore, of accusing the shal- 
 lowness of the minister, it appears to me, that it would now be 
 more just to do honour to his foresight. Nevertheless, the alliance 
 with Austria was then the customary pretext for the attacks 
 directed against him. 
 
 I would willingly have avoided these details, had not the rival- 
 ship of the two ministers been intimately connected with the 
 history of the times respecting which Madame Campan is about 
 to speak. The Duke de Choiseul had the parliaments, the philo- 
 sophers, and public opinion, on his side. On that of the Duke 
 d' Aiguillon were the devotees and Madame du Barry ; the two 
 factions disputed the last wishes of the dying Louis XV. ; they 
 disturbed the first years of Louis XVI. ; and the fatal influence 
 which the And- Austrian party exercised over the fate of the 
 youthful Marie Antoinette, will presently appear. 
 
 The idea of uniting the daughter of Maria Theresa with the 
 grandson of Louis XV. had been conceived by the Duke de 
 Choiseul before his disgrace. By this marriage he cemented the 
 alliance of the two states, and thought he was securing for him- 
 self the favour of a new reign. Thus was explained the sense
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xvii 
 
 of that distich, according to which Austria was to expect more 
 from marriage, than from war or treaties.* 
 
 The youth, beauty, and disposition of the princess, were every- 
 where the subjects of conversation. Who, that had seen her 
 quit her family, to take a place on the first steps of the most 
 splendid throne in Europe, would have ventured to form the 
 slightest doubt of her future happiness ? Maria Theresa, happy, 
 though afflicted, had no other uneasiness, on her dear daughter's 
 account, than that which arose from their separation ; and yet 
 prophetic voices seemed already to threaten the future evils 
 which awaited her. 
 
 Madame Campan often related an anecdote which she had 
 heard from the governor of the children of Prince Kaunitz. 
 There was at that time at Vienna, a doctor named Gassner, who 
 had fled thither to seek an asylum against the persecutions of 
 his sovereign, one of the ecclesiastical electors. Gassner, gifted 
 with an extraordinary warmth of imagination, imagined that he 
 received inspirations. The Empress protected him; saw him 
 occasionally; rallied him on his visions, and, nevertheless, lis- 
 tened to them with a degree of interest. " Tell me," said she 
 to him, one day, "whether my Antoinette will be happy." 
 Gassner turned pale, and remained silent. Being still pressed 
 by the Empress, and wishing to give a general kind of expres- 
 sion to the idea with which he seemed deeply occupied ; "Ma- 
 dame," he replied, " there are crosses for all shoulders."^ 
 
 * I do not believe that the Turks are remarkable for saying good 
 things ; but they are, perhaps, better informed than is generally ima- 
 gined, as to the interests of the Christian powers, and the views, 
 means, and resources of their cabinets. It is said that the Grand 
 Signer, on receiving the decree of the Convention, which ordained the 
 abolition of royalty in France, could not help saying, "At least the 
 Republic will not marry an archduchess." This saying is rather too 
 French to be Turkish ; but it is smart, which is quite enough to make 
 people quote it. 
 
 f Jean Joseph Gassner, born at Bratz, on the frontiers of the Tyrol, 
 was a celebrated pretender to miraculous powers, and actually believed 
 
 '
 
 xviii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 These words were sufficient to make an impression on tbte 
 imagination of the Germans. Traditions preserved in their 
 country, and repeated to them in infancy; a mind directed 
 towards research, and to a belief in all that is vague and myste- 
 rious; a natural inclination to melancholy, seemed to prepare 
 them for receiving more vividly these awful impressions and 
 secret warnings. Marie Antoinette, as will be seen in these Me- 
 moirs, was far from being able to repel and overcome the emo- 
 tions of involuntary terror. Goethe, her countryman, the cele- 
 brated author of Wertcr, abandoned himself, more than any one, 
 to the influence of these presentiments, which it is often difficult 
 for reason to triumph over. An unfavourable omen had occur- 
 red to him on the young princess's arrival in France. 
 
 Goethe, who was then young, was completing his studies at 
 Strasburg. In an isle in the middle of the Rhine, a pavilion 
 had been erected, intended to receive Marie Antoinette and her 
 suite. "I was admitted into it," says Goethe, in his Memoirs. 
 " On my entrance, I was struck with the subject depicted in the 
 tapestry with which the principal pavilion was hung, in which 
 were seen Jason, Creusa, and Medea, that is to say, a represen- 
 tation of the most fatal union commemorated in history. On 
 the left of the throne, the bride, surrounded by friends and dis- 
 tracted attendants, was struggling with a dreadful death. Jason, 
 on the other side, was starting back, struck with horror at the 
 sight of his murdered children ; and the Fury was soaring into 
 the air, in her chariot drawn by dragons." Superstition apart, 
 this strange coincidence was really striking. The husband, the 
 bride, and the children, were victims in both cases ; the fatal 
 omen seemed accomplished in every point. Maria Theresa might 
 have repeated the fine verses which the father of Creusa ad- 
 dresses to his expiring daughter, in the Medea of Corneille : 
 
 This, then, my child, the hymeneal day, 
 
 The royal union anxiously expected ! 
 
 Stern fate extinguishes the bridal torch, 
 
 And for thy marriage-bed, the tomb awaits thee. 
 
 himself endowed with the faculty of curing a multitude of disorders, 
 by the mere imposition of his hands.
 
 OP MADAME CAMPAN. xix 
 
 But if we seek fatal omens, those which attended the marriage 
 
 7 O 
 
 festivities at Paris, may well suffice. The occurrences at the 
 Place Louis XV. are generally known, and it is unnecessary to 
 itate how the conflagration of the scaffolds intended for the fire- 
 yorfcs, the.magistrates' want of foresight, the avidity of robbers, 
 ibo murderous career of the coaches, brought on and aggravated the 
 disasters of the day ; or how the young dauphiness, coming from 
 Versailles, by the Cours la Reine, elated with joy, brilliantly 
 decorated, and eager to witness the rejoicings of the whole people, 
 fled, struck with consternation, and drowned in tears, whilst the 
 dreadful scene, and the cries of the dying, pursued her dis- 
 tracted imagination. 
 
 Having been led to notice this calamitous event, I will briefly 
 notice one of the scenes it presented. Amidst this distracted 
 multitude, pressed on every side, trampled under the horses' 
 feet, precipitated into the ditches of the Rue Royale and the 
 Square, was a young man with a girl with whom he was in love. 
 She was beautiful; their attachment had lasted several years; 
 pecuniary causes had delayed their union ; but the following day 
 they were to be married. For a long time the lover, protecting 
 his mistress, keeping her behind him, covering her with his own 
 person, sustained her strength and courage. But the tumult, the 
 cries, the terror, and peril, every moment increased. "I am 
 sinking," she said ; " my strength fails I can go no farther." 
 " There is yet a way," cried the lover, in despair ; " get on my 
 shoulders." He feels that his advice has been followed, and the 
 hope of saving her whom he loves, redoubles his ardour and 
 strength. He resists the most violent concussions : with his 
 arms firmly extended before his breast, he with difficulty forces 
 his way through the crowd; at length he clears it. Arrived at 
 one of the extremities of the place, having set down his precious 
 burthen, faltering, exhausted, fatigued to death, but intoxicated 
 with joy, he turns round ; it was a different person. Another, 
 more active, had taken advantage of his recommendation; his 
 beloved was no more ! 
 
 The sensibility and benevolence of Marie Antoinette miti- 
 3*
 
 XT BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 gated calamities which she had not power to remedy. Madame 
 Campari, from that time, was placed sufficiently near her, to 
 estimate all the emotions of her generous heart. The marriage 
 of the dauphin had been celebrated in the month of May, 1770. 
 None of the princes, his brothers, were yet married ; the dau- 
 phiness had, at first, no intimate society but that of the prin- 
 cesses. Of these the most affable was Madame Victoire ; and 
 it was to her that Marie Antoinette paid her most constant visits. 
 There she almost always met Mademoiselle Genet, whose talents 
 and similar age to her own, attracted her notice. Mademoi- 
 selle Genet often accompanied her on the harp or piano, when 
 she amused herself with singing the airs of Gretry. The 
 dauphiness was also frequently present at the readings which 
 took place at the princess's; she already appreciated the unction 
 of the petit-careme, and the brilliant imagination of a poet, who 
 afterwards mourned her misfortunes in affecting verses. 
 
 At court, where favour leads to fortune, the regard with which 
 the princesses and the dauphiness honoured Mademoiselle Genet, 
 was soon observed. Her establishment was talked of, and she 
 soon afterwards married M. Campan, whose father was secretary 
 of the Queen's closet.* Louis XV. bestowed on her a pension 
 
 * The family of Campan, originally from the valley of Campan, in 
 Berne, had adopted the name of that place, as their own surname. 
 Their true name was Berthollet. The celebrated chemist, whom the 
 sciences have lately lost (in 1822), was related to this family. I find in 
 the manuscripts before me, a trait highly honourable to his character. 
 
 " On the side of the Berthollets," said Madame Campan to her son, 
 in a paper intended for his information, " one of the most dis- 
 tinguished members of the institute must be of the same family ; but 
 from a sense of dignity, and a repugnance for those who frequented 
 the court, and were in favour, he said to several persons at Paris, in 
 1788, that he was related to a Berthollet Campan, who had a place 
 about the Queen, at Versailles, but that he felt no inclination to go 
 and explain his relationship to that gentleman, feeling apprehensive of 
 passing for a worshipper of influence and fortune. My advice," adds 
 Madame Campan, " would have been, to seek a man who evinced a 
 character so different from that which is usually met with in persons 
 in the situation to which fate had destined us."
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xxi 
 
 of 5000 livrcs, and the dauphincss secured her a place as feinme 
 de chambre, allowing her, at the same time, to continue her 
 duties as reader to the princesses. 
 
 It is here that the Memoirs of Madame Campan may truly be 
 said to begin ; the first chapter, descriptive of the court of Louis 
 XV. being only a lively introduction. During a period of 
 twenty years, from the marriage festivities to the attack of the 
 10th of August, Madame Campan never quitted Marie An- 
 toinette. On the Queen's side all was goodness and unreserved 
 confidence ; it will be seen whether Madame Campan did not 
 return the favour of her patroness by gratitude, faith, and de- 
 votedness, proof against all calamity, and superior to all danger. 
 In speaking of Marie Antoinette, she has depicted the hatred of 
 her enemies, the avidity of her flatterers, and the disinterested 
 ness of the real friends whom she possessed, although seated on 
 the throne. But, as she generally confines herself to the do- 
 mestic circle in which Marie Antoinette delighted, it is indispen- 
 sably necessary to take a survey of the spirit of that period, and 
 particularly the manners of society. 
 
 I shall not recall the scandalous years of the regency, a period 
 when the court, escaping from the constraint of a long course of 
 hypocrisy, combined the excesses of debauchery with sarcasms 
 of the most audacious impiety. But it is necessary to . notice 
 particularly the reign of Louis XV. ; because, during that 
 reign, corruption presented two distinct periods. Of the first of 
 these, Richelieu was the model and the hero. To love without 
 pleasure ; to yield without resistance ; to part without regret ; 
 to call duty a weakness, honour a prejudice ; delicacy affectation 
 such were the manners of the times ; seduction had its code, 
 and immorality was reduced to principles. Even these rapid 
 successes soon tired those who obtained them ; perhaps, because 
 the facility with which triumphs were gained, diminished their 
 value. Courtiers and rich financiers maintained, at enormous 
 expense, beauties with whom they were not expected even to be 
 acquainted ; vice became a mere luxury of vanity ; and the con-
 
 xiii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 dition of a courtesan led rapidly to fortune, I had almost said to 
 honour. 
 
 In the years preceding the accession of Louis XVI. to the 
 throne, and those immediately following, society presented a 
 new spectacle. Manners were not improved, but altered. By a 
 strange abuse, apologies were found for depravity, in the philo- 
 sophical ideas which daily grew more fashionable. The new 
 partisans of these principles promulgated such noble maxims, 
 thought and discoursed so well, that they were not obliged to act 
 with propriety. Men might be inconstant husbands, and women 
 faithless wives, so that they spoke with respect, with enthusiasm, 
 of the sacred duties of marriage. The love of virtue and of 
 mankind was sufficient, without practical morality. Women, 
 surrounded by their lovers, discussed the means of regenerating 
 social order. There was not a philosopher admitted into one 
 of the fashionable circles, who did not modestly compare him- 
 self to Socrates with Aspasia ; and Diderot, the daring author 
 of Philosophical Thoughts,* the licentious writer of the Bijoux 
 Indiscrets, though he aspired to the glory of Plato, did not 
 blush to imitate Petronius. 
 
 Let it not, however, be supposed, that it is my intention to 
 censure the philosophers ; if their conduct was irregular, most 
 of their doctrines were pure, and have passed from their writings 
 into our morals. If the ties of kindred have been drawn closer ; 
 if we are better husbands, fathers, and citizens ; if vice is des- 
 pised j if young people, intent on serious studies, reject disdain- 
 fully the licentious works which the libertinism of their fathers 
 encouraged, we owe these advantages to a new order of things. 
 In morality, as well as in politics, legislation, and finances, the 
 philosophers have led the way to useful reforms. Their writings, 
 ill understood at that period, but read with avidity, gave them 
 a great influence over public opinion. The court, long accus- 
 tomed to the influence which wit, polished manners, and the habit 
 of filling great offices, secured to it, was astonished to see this 
 new power springing up by its side. Instead of opposing, it 
 
 * Pensies Philosophiques. 

 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xxiii 
 
 flattered this competitor. Enthusiasm gained on every mind ; 
 it was at the tables and in the drawing-rooms of the first nobles, 
 that the distinctions of rank were boldly treated as prejudices. 
 These principles of equality often found partisans amongst the 
 nobility, who were the more zealous in defending them, because 
 this conduct appeared a proof of their generosity. It became 
 almost an acknowledged truth, that merit was superior to birth ; 
 and it is fair to add, that there was amongst the nobility at that 
 time, as there is now, a great number of men who were unin- 
 terested in protesting against this new doctrine. 
 
 Thus, whilst the middling classes were rising, proud of their 
 knowledge, their talents, their attainments, the higher ranks 
 seemed to meet them half-way, through sentiments of curiosity 
 and benevolence : the court was still a slave to the laws of 
 etiquette, whilst the distinctions of rank were banished from 
 social life. Hence, in my opinion, an accusation which incon- 
 siderate vanity has often repeated against Marie Antoinette, falls 
 to the ground of itself. When she appeared at Versailles, she 
 found every one inclined to a change which the state of manners 
 rendered inevitable ; and her beauty, wit, grace, and majestic 
 carriage, gave her so many real advantages, as entitled her to 
 despise the childish importance of etiquette. 
 
 After all, what is etiquette ? Nothing but a symbol of the 
 involuntary respect which mankind pay to courage, genius, 
 glory, and virtue. True politeness disdains ceremony ; and true 
 greatness may dispense with it. The noble familiarity of Henry 
 IV. was applauded ; he had, however, performed great actions 
 enough, to allow of affability and plainness in his manners. The 
 memory of his achievements dignified him still more than his 
 rank ; in seeing the King, men recollected the knight ; by his 
 side still hung the sword he had worn at Courtras ; and the 
 French unanimously acknowledged the generous hand that had 
 fed Paris during its rebellion. The illusions of etiquette were 
 necessary to Louis XV. ; Louis XIV. might have dispensed with 
 them ; his throne, resplendent with the triumph of arms, litera- 
 ture, and the fine arts, was glorious enough without them. But
 
 xxiv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 he was ambitious to be more than a great King : and this demi- 
 god, reduced by misfortunes and infirmities, to his original place 
 in the first ranks of human life, endeavoured to conceal the 
 ravages of disease, calamity, and age, under the vain pomp of 
 ceremony. Princes may be excused for being the regulators of 
 etiquette, since they are its principal slaves. 
 
 From the cradle to the tomb, in sickness and in health, at 
 table, at council, in the chase, in the army, in the midst of their 
 court, in their private apartments, princes, in France, were 
 governed by ceremonial rules. The injudicious laws of etiquette 
 pursued them, even to the mysteries of the nuptial bed. Judge 
 how impatiently a young princess, lively, affectionate, and free, 
 bred in the simplicity of the German courts, must have endured 
 the tyrannical customs which never suffered her for a single 
 instant, to be a wife, mother, or friend, but reduced her to the 
 dignified ennui of being always a Queen. The respectable lar'y, 
 who was placed near her as a vigilant minister of the laws of 
 etiquette, instead of alleviating their weight, rendered their 
 yoke intolerable to her. The evil was not, however, so serious, 
 when it only affected the attendants ; because in these cases, the 
 Queen used merely to laugh at it. Let Madame Campan 
 herself relate an anecdote on this subject, in which she was 
 concerned. 
 
 " Madame de Noailles," she says in a manuscript fragment, 
 " abounded in virtues ; I cannot pretend'to deny it. Her piety, 
 charity, and irreproachable morals, rendered her worthy of 
 praise ; but etiquette was to her a sort of atmosphere, at the 
 slightest derangement of the consecrated order, one would have 
 thought she would have been stifled, and that life would forsake 
 her frame. 
 
 " One day, I unintentionally threw this poor lady into a ter- 
 rible agony ; the Queen was receiving, I know not whom some 
 persons just presented, I believe ; the lady of honour, the 
 Queen's tire-woman, and the ladies of the bed-chamber, were 
 behind the Queen. I was near the throne, with the two women 
 on duty. All was right ; at least I thought so. Suddenly, I
 
 OF MADAME CAMP AN. xxv 
 
 perceived the eyes of Madame de Noailles fixed on mine. She 
 made a sign with her head, and then raised her eyebrows to the 
 top of her forehead, lowered them, raised them again ; then 
 began to make little signs with her hand. From all this panto- 
 mime, I could easily perceive that something was not as it should 
 be ; and as I looked about on all sides to find out what it was, 
 the agitation of the countess kept increasing. The Queen, who 
 perceived all this, looked at me with a smile ; I found means to 
 approach her majesty, who said to me in a whisper, Let down 
 your lappets, or the countess will expire. All this bustle arose 
 from two unlucky pins, which fastened up my lappets, whilst 
 the etiquette of costume said, ' Lappets hanging down.' " 
 
 Nevertheless, this contempt of the solemn vanities of etiquette, 
 became the pretext for the first reproaches levelled at the Queen. 
 In fact, what misconduct might not be dreaded from a princess 
 who could absolutely go out without a hoop ! and who, in the 
 saloons of Trianon, instead of discussing the important rights to 
 chairs and stools, good-naturedly invited everybody to be 
 seated.* The Anti- Austrian party, ever discontented and vin- 
 
 * Even for the suppression of the most ridiculous customs, the Queen 
 was never forgiven. The respectable dowagers, who had passed their 
 innocent youth in the court of Louis XV., and even under the regency, 
 considered the abolition of the hoop as a violation of morals. Ma- 
 dame Campan herself, says, in some part of her Memoirs, almost with 
 regret, that the great ruffs and fardingales worn in the court of the 
 last of the Valois, were not adopted without a motive : that those 
 appendages, indifferent in appearance, actually had the effect of 
 banishing every idea of gallantry. 
 
 Although such a precaution may appear, at least, a little singular, 
 in the dissolute court of Henry III., I shall not pretend to deny the 
 efficacy of the fardingale ! I will only add a little anecdote quoted by 
 Laplace. 
 
 "M. de Fresne Forget, being one day in company with Queen 
 Marguerite, told her he was astonished how men and women with such 
 great ruffs, could eat soup without spoiling them ; and still more, how 
 the ladies could be gallant, with their great fardingales. The Queen 
 made no answer at that time, but, a few days after, having a very large 
 ruff on, and some louilli to eat, she ordered a very long spoon to be
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 dictive, became spies upon her conduct, exaggerated her slight- 
 est errors, and calumniated her most innocent proceedings. 
 11 What seems unaccountable at the first glance," says Montjoie, 
 whose opinions must certainly be considered genuine ; " and 
 what overwhelms me with grief, is, that the first attacks on the 
 reputation of the Queen, proceeded from the bosom of the court. 
 What interest could the courtiers have in seeking her destruc- 
 tion, which involved that of the King ? Was it not drying 
 up the source of all the advantages they enjoyed, or could 
 hope for?" 
 
 But these advantages and favours were no longer the exclu- 
 sive inheritance of a few powerful families. In distributing 
 benefits, the Queen sometimes thought proper to consult her 
 affections, and other rights besides those of an ancient origin. 
 "Judge," says Montjoie, "of the spite and fury of the great of 
 that class, when they saw the Queen dispense to others those 
 favours which they wished to be considered as due to them 
 alone ; it will then be easy to understand how she came to have 
 implacable enemies amongst those who were nearest her per- 
 son." It was not long before hatred and calumny found an- 
 other pretext. 
 
 That obscure and scandalous plot, which was to compromise 
 the most august name, and to dishonour that of a cardinal, was 
 already in preparation. It was conceived by an intriguing 
 female ; its principal agent was a forger of writings ; it was 
 seconded by a courtesan, unravelled by a minim, and related by 
 a Jesuit. As if the most singular coincidences were to appear 
 in this famous suit, together with the most odious contrasts, the 
 name of Valois, which had so long ago relapsed into oblivion, 
 now figured along with those of Rohan, Austria, and Bourbon ; 
 and, when everything conspired to accuse a libertine and credu- 
 
 bvought, and ate her bouilli with it, without soiling her ruff. Upon 
 which, addressing herself to M. de Fresne, she said, laughing, ' There 
 now, you see, with a little ingenuity, one may manage anything.' 
 ' Yes, faith, Madame,' said he, with simplicity, ' as far as regards the 
 soup, I am satisfied.' " ( Vol. II., page 350, of Laplace's Collection.)
 
 OP MADAME CAMPAN. xxvii 
 
 lous priest, a great lord, who with 800,000 livres per annum, 
 was nevertheless ruined, an ecclesiastical prince, at once the 
 dupe of a swindler, a woman of intrigue, and a quack ; yet it 
 was the Queen whom his credulity, as well, perhaps, as his 
 guilty hopes, injured ; it was Marie Antoinette to whom suspi- 
 cion was daringly attached. The court, the clergy, and the par- 
 liaments leagued together to humble the throne, and the princess 
 who sat on it. Instead of pitying, they blamed her : they did 
 not even pardon her indulgence of the grief and indignation of 
 an injured woman, wife, and Queen. 
 
 The issue of this famous suit is known. The cardinal was 
 acquitted. Madame de Lamotte being condemned and exposed, 
 fled, and hastened to publish a pamphlet of the most odious de- 
 scription against the Queen. From that moment, fatal for 
 Marie Antoinette, until her death, attacks of this species were 
 incessantly renewed against her. The spirit of party quickly 
 undertook the direction of them : the press and the graver be- 
 came equally subservient to the fury of her enemies. Obscene 
 prints, licentious verses, infamous libels, atrocious accusations 
 / have seen all, I have read all, and I wish I could add (like 
 that unfortunate princess, on one of the most honourable occa- 
 sions of her life), / have forgotten all. The perusal and view 
 of these monuments of implacable hatred, leave an impression 
 of sadness and disgust difficult to overcome, and increased by 
 the idea of the woes accumulated by calumny on the head of 
 the hapless Marie Antoinette. 
 
 Let us not anticipate events : It is not here that the picture 
 of the Queen's last misfortunes is to be found. Her imprison- 
 ment, her chains, her destitute condition, the outrages which 
 overwhelmed, the strength of mind which supported her, the 
 maternal affection which still attached her to life, the religious 
 sentiments from which she derived consolation ; all these affect- 
 ing and sublime particulars of a scene, concluded by so tragical 
 a catastrophe, belong to other memoirs ; but there is one reflec- 
 tion which that fatal catastrophe irresistibly excites. 
 
 When the terrible Danton exclaimed, " The kings of Europe 
 
 VOL. i. 4
 
 menace us ; it behaves us to defy them ; let us throw down to 
 them, as our gage, the head of a King !" These detestable 
 words, followed by so cruel, so lamentable an effect, belonged, 
 however, to a formidable piece of policy. But the Queen ! 
 What horrible reasons of state, could Danton, Collot d'Herbois, 
 and Robespierre allege against her ? Where did they find that 
 those Greeks and Romans, whose military virtues our soldiers 
 recalled, used to murder weak and defenceless beings ? What 
 savage greatness did they discover, in stirring up a whole nation 
 to avenge their quarrel on a woman ? What remained of her 
 former power ? Had not the 10th of August torn the diadem 
 from her brow ? She was a captive, a widow, trembling for her 
 children ! In those judges, who at once outraged modesty and 
 nature; in that people, whose vilest scoifs pursued her to the 
 scaffold, who could have recognised the affable, affectionate, sen- 
 sitive, generous people of France ? No, of all the crimes which 
 so shockingly disgraced the revolution, none is more calculated 
 to show to what a pitch the spirit of party, when it has fer- 
 mented in the most corrupt hearts, can deprave the character of 
 a nation. 
 
 The news of this dreadful event reached Madame Campan, 
 who was weeping over the misfortunes of her benefactress, in 
 her obscure retreat. She had not succeeded in her endeavours 
 to share the Queen's captivity ; and she expected, every moment, 
 a similar fate. After escaping, almost miraculously, from the 
 murdering fury of the Marseillois ; after being repulsed by Pe- 
 tion, when she implored the favour of being confined in the 
 Temple, denounced and pursued by Robespierre, and intrusted, 
 through the entire confidence of the King and Queen, with pa- 
 pers of the utmost importance, Madame Campan went to conceal 
 her charge and indulge her grief at Coubertin in the valley of 
 Chevreuse. Madame Auguie, her sister, had just committed 
 suicide, at the very moment of her arrest.* The scaffold awaited 
 
 * Maternal affection prevailed over her religious sentiments ; she 
 wished to preserve the wreck of her fortune for her children. Had 
 she deferred this fatal act for one day, she would have been saved ; the
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xxix 
 
 Madame Campan, when the 9th of Thermidor restored her to 
 life ; but did not restore to her the most constant object of her 
 thoughts, her zeal and her devotion. 
 
 A new career now opened to Madame Campan. The infor- 
 mation and talents she possessed, were about to become useful 
 to her. At Coubertin, surrounded by her nieces, she was fond 
 of directing their studies, as much to divert her mind for a time 
 from her troubles, as to form their disposition and judgment. 
 This maternal occupation had caused her ideas to revert to the 
 subject of education, and awakened once more the earliest incli- 
 nations of her youth. 
 
 Our taste and character develope themselves early in child- 
 hood. I remember, that in writing an account of the life of 
 Madame Roland, it appeared to me a most interesting spectacle, 
 to contemplate the first emotions of her intrepid soul, warmed, 
 even at the most tender age, with enthusiasm for the virtues of 
 antiquity. It was not without surprise that I considered a young 
 girl, at a period of life when pleasure and dress are usually the 
 chief occupations of her sex, fancying herself in solitude, Clelia 
 stemming the waves of Tiber ; or Cornelia exhibiting her 
 Gracchi, as her ornaments, to the Roman ladies. 
 
 Rising inclinations are suddenly developed and revealed by 
 circumstances. Many a general owes his epaulettes to the sight 
 of a review : and, in our times, the ceremony and pomp of pro- 
 cessions will, no doubt, make many a bishop. At the age of 
 twelve years, Mademoiselle Genet could never meet a school -of 
 young ladies, walking out for an airing, or passing through the 
 streets, without feeling ambitious of the situation, title, and 
 authority of their mistress. Her abode at court had diverted, 
 but not altered, her ideas and inclinations. At a more advanced 
 age, when able to enlarge the circle of her schemes, she envied 
 Madame de Maintenon, in the height of absolute power, not the 
 success of her ambitious hypocrisy, not the mysterious honour 
 
 cart which conveyed Robespierre to execution, stopped her funeral 
 procession !
 
 of a royal and clandestine union, but the glory of having 
 founded St. Cyr. 
 
 It will presently be seen, that Madame Campan had neither 
 the treasures nor the authority of Louis XIV. at her disposal, 
 for the realization of her plans. " A month after the fall of 
 Robespierre," she says, in a most interesting document, " I con- 
 sidered of the means of providing for myself, for a mother 
 seventy years of age, my sick husband, my child nine years 
 old, and part of my ruined family. I now possessed nothing in 
 the world but an assignat of five hundred francs. I had become 
 responsible for my husband's debts, to the amount of thirty 
 thousand francs. I chose St. Germain to set up a boarding-school ; 
 that town did not remind me, as Versailles did, both of the 
 happy times, and the first misfortunes of France, while it was 
 at some distance from Paris, where our dreadful disasters had 
 occurred, and where people resided, with whom I did not wish 
 to be acquainted. I took with me a nun of V Enfant- Jesus, to 
 give an unquestionable pledge of my religious principle?.* I 
 had not the means of printing my prospectus. I wrote a hun- 
 dred copies of it, and sent them to those persons of my acquaint- 
 ance who had survived our dreadful commotions. 
 
 "At the year's end I had sixty pupils; soon afterwards a hun- 
 dred. I bought furniture, and paid my debts. I rejoiced in 
 having met with this resource so remote from all intrigue." 
 
 The brilliant and rapid success of the establishment at St. 
 Germain, was undoubtedly owing to the talents, ^xperience, and 
 excellent principles of Madame Campan. Nevertheless, it must 
 be allowed, that she was wonderfully seconded by public opi- 
 nion. To court, cherish, and show attention to any person who 
 had been at court, was to defy and humble the reigning power ; 
 and every one knows that people never denied themselves that 
 pleasure in France. I was then very young, but I did not fail 
 to observe that disposition in those about me. All property 
 
 * The school of St. Germain was the first in which the opening of 
 an oratory was ventured on. The Directory was displeased at it, and 
 ordered it to be immediately shut up.
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xxxi 
 
 had changed hands; all ranks found themselves confusedly jum- 
 bled by the shocks of the revolution : society resembled a 
 library, in which the books have been replaced at random, after 
 tearing off the titles. The great lord dined at the table of the 
 opulent contractor ; and the marchioness, all brilliancy, wit, and 
 elegance, sat at the ball by the side of the clumsy peasant grown 
 rich. In the absence of the ancient distinctions and denomina- 
 tions, which had been described by the Directory, elegant man- 
 ners and polished language now formed an extraordinary kind 
 of aristocracy. The house of St. Germain, conducted by a lady, 
 who possessed the style, deportment, habits, and conversation 
 of the best society, was not only a school of knowledge, but a 
 school of the world. 
 
 " A literary man, a friend of Madame de Beauharnais," con- 
 tinued Madame Campan, in the manuscript now before me, 
 " mentioned my establishment to her. She brought me her 
 daughter, Hortense de Beauharnais, and her niece Emilie de Beau- 
 harnais. Six months afterwards she eame to inform me of her 
 marriage with a Corsican gentleman, who had been brought up 
 in the military school, and was then a general. I was requested 
 to communicate this intelligence to her daughter, who long 
 lamented her mother's change of name. 
 
 " I was also desired to watch over the education of little Eu- 
 gene de Beauharnais, who was placed at St. Germain, in the same 
 school with my son. 
 
 " My nieces, Mesdemoiselles Auguie, were with me, and slept 
 in the same room as the Mesdemoiselles Beauharnais. A great 
 intimacy took place between these young people. Madame de 
 Beauharnais set out for Italy, and left her children with me. 
 On her return, after the conquests of Bonaparte, that general 
 was much pleased with the improvement of his step-daughter ; 
 he invited me to dine at Malmaison, and attended two repre- 
 sentations of Esther, at my school." 
 
 One of these representations is connected with an anecdote, 
 which is almost historical. The Duchess of St. Leu played 
 Esther, the part of Elise was supported by the interesting and 
 
 4*
 
 xuii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 unfortunate Madame de Broc. They were united by the same 
 uniformity of age and inclinations, the same mutual friendship, 
 as are attributed to the characters in Racine's drama. Napo- 
 leon, who was then consul, his generals, ministers, and other 
 principal persons in the state, attended the representation. The 
 Prince of Orange was also observed there, whom the hope of 
 seeing Holland once more, and of re-establishing the rights of 
 his house, had at this period brought to France. The tragedy 
 of Esther was performed by the pupils, with the chorusses in 
 music. Every one knows, that in the chorus at the end of the 
 third act, the young Israelites rejoice in the hope of one day re- 
 turning to their native land : 
 A young female says : 
 
 " I shall see once more those dear fields."* 
 Another adds : 
 
 " I shall weep over the sepulchre of my forefathers."! 
 
 At these words, loud sobs were heard ; every eye was turned 
 towards a particular part of the room ; the representation was 
 interrupted for a moment. Napoleon, who sat in the first row, 
 leaned towards Madame Campan, who was behind him, and 
 asked her the cause of this agitation. "The Prince of Orange 
 is here," said she : " he perceived something in the verses 
 which have just been sung, applicable to his wishes and situa- 
 tion, and could not restrain his tears." The consul had already 
 different views: "What is said about returning home, does not 
 apply to him, however;" said he. 
 
 Previously to commencing this notice on the life of Madame 
 Campan, I went over that house at St. Germain which once 
 attracted such a splendid concourse. 
 
 I saw that garden, those long covered walks, which served for 
 promenades; those rooms in which Plantade gave instructions 
 in singing, and where Mademoiselle Godefroy, the best pupil of 
 
 * Je reverrai ces campagnes si cheres. 
 j- J'irai pleurer au tombeau de mes peres.
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xxxiii 
 
 a great master, taught painting. I saw that little closet which 
 many a giddy girl has entered in apprehension of a severe repri- 
 mand, and from which she was sure to come out impressed and 
 affected by good and kind admonitions. The appearance of 
 those places is still the same, but how different is their present 
 use ! To that lyceum which letters, science, and accomplish- 
 ments formerly embellished, the rigours and austerity of a cloister 
 have succeeded. Those scenes, in which the sounds of innocent 
 mirth, or the lessons of pleasing arts were alternately heard, are 
 become the asylum of fasting, prayer, and silence. The hall 
 of exercises, which served for a theatre, has been converted into 
 a chapel ; the catechism is taught under the roof which echoed 
 the harmonious verses of Racine; and a few verses of the 
 Psalms, or passages from the Fathers, will soon be substituted 
 for that inscription, which is still half legible on the whitened 
 walls : " Talents are the ornament of the rich, and the wealth 
 of the poor." 
 
 In 1802 and 1803, the period destined to produce this change 
 was still far distant. Never had the^ establishment at St. Ger- 
 main been in a more flourishing condition. What more could 
 Madame Campan wish for ? her fortune was very respectable : 
 her occupation and duties were agreeable to her taste. She saw 
 around her nothing but attachment and gratitude ; abroad she 
 met with nothing but esteem, kindness, and respect. Absolute 
 in her own house ; she seemed equally safe from the favours and 
 caprices of power. But the man who then disposed of the fate 
 of France at his pleasure, and regulated that of Europe with the 
 sword, was soon to determine otherwise. 
 
 By a decree, dated, as it were, from the field of battle, new 
 rewards and encouragements were secured and proposed to the 
 brave victors of Austcrlitz. The state undertook to bring up, 
 at the public expense, the sisters, daughters, or nieces of those 
 who were decorated with the cross of honour. The children of 
 the warriors killed or wounded in glorious battle, were to find 
 paternal care in the ancient abodes of the Montmorencys and 
 the Conde's , nor could those heroes themselves have devoted them
 
 xxxiv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 to a nobler purpose. Accustomed to concentrate around him 
 all superior talents, fearless himself of superiority, Napoleon 
 sought for a person qualified by experience, name, and abilities, 
 to conduct the institution of Ecouen ; he selected Madame 
 Campan. 
 
 She was now to reap the fruits of ten years' experience at St. 
 Germain. The establishment of Ecouen was wholly to create ; 
 Madame Campan, therefore, commenced this great undertaking. 
 Count Lacepede, the pupil, friend, and rival of Buffon, the 
 grand chancellor of the legion of honour, assisted her with his 
 enlightened advice. The watchful attention which the health, 
 instruction, and even the recreations of three hundred young 
 persons required ; the religious duties which formed the basis 
 of their education ; the distribution of their time ; the metho- 
 dical and graduated exercise of the powers of their understand- 
 ing ; the harmony of their principles and attainments with 
 their fortune, and the rank in society they were destined to 
 occupy ; the difficult art of seizing the principal features of a 
 character, discriminating .good from bad qualities, destroying 
 the germ of the one, and encouraging the others ; and of main- 
 taining order and promoting emulation amongst so many pupils 
 of different ages, inclinations, and tempers, without exciting 
 pride : all these cares of a complicated administration, all these 
 details of so delicate an employment, appeared simple, easy, and 
 natural when Madame Campan was seen to fulfil them. This 
 praise even her enemies could not deny her. At all hours she 
 was accessible to every one; hearing all questions submitted to 
 her with the greatest equality of temper, and deciding them with 
 extraordinary presence of mind, never addressing admonition, 
 reproach, or encouragement, but opportunely. Napoleon, who 
 could descend with ease from the highest political subjects to 
 the examination of the most minute details ; who was at much 
 at home in inspecting a boarding-school for young ladies, as in 
 reviewing the grenadiers of his guard ; to whom every species of 
 knowledge, every occupation, seemed familiar; whom it was 
 impossible to deceive, and who was not unwilling to find fault,
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xxxv 
 
 Napoleon, when he visited the establishment at Ecouen, was 
 forced to say, " It is all right."* 
 
 A second house was formed at St. Denis, on the model of that 
 of Ecouen. Perhaps Madame Campan might have hoped for a 
 title, to which her long labours gave her a right ; perhaps the 
 superintendence of the two houses would have been but the 
 fair recompense of her services ; but her fortunate years had 
 elapsed : her fate was now to depend on the most important events. 
 Napoleon had accumulated such a mass of power, as no one but 
 himself in Europe could overturn. The conqueror seemed to 
 take inward pleasure in destroying the work of the statesman. 
 France, content with thirty years of victories, in vain asked for 
 peace and repose. The army which had triumphed in the sands 
 of Egypt, on the summits of the Alps, and in the marshes of 
 Holland, was to perish although victorious, amidst the snows of 
 Russia. Kings and nations combined against a single man. The 
 territory of France was invaded. The orphans of Ecouen, from 
 the windows of the mansion which served as their asylum, saw, 
 in the distant plain, the fires of the Russian bivouacs, and once 
 more wept the deaths of their fathers. Paris capitulated. France 
 hailed the return of the descendants of Henry IV. : they re- 
 ascended the throne so long filled by their ancestors, which the 
 wisdom of an enlightened prince established on the empire of 
 the laws. 
 
 This moment, which diffused joy amongst the faithful ser- 
 vants of the royal family, and brought them the rewards of 
 their devotion, proved to Madame Campan a period of bitter 
 vexation. The hatred of her enemies had revived. The sup- 
 pression of the house of Ecouen had deprived her of her place ; 
 the most absurd calumnies followed her into her retreat : her 
 
 * Napoleon had wished to be informed of every particular of the 
 furniture, government, and order of the house, the instruction and 
 education of the pupils. The internal regulations were submitted to 
 him. One of the intended rules, drawn up by Madame Campan, pro- 
 posed that the children should hear mass on Sundays and Thursdays. 
 Napoleon himself wrote in the margin, every day.
 
 xxxvi BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 attachment to the Queen was suspected ; she was accused, not 
 only of ingratitude, but of perfidy : " And the object of these 
 slanders/' said a noble writer, who seemed to transfer into the 
 sentiments of friendship, the warmth which animated his filial 
 piety " the object of these calumnies, is that most faithful sub- 
 ject, who, during twenty-four years, never ceased to be attached 
 to the royal family of France : the reader and first attendant of 
 the unfortunate Queen j the no less intimate confidante of the 
 hapless King, who, during their protracted martyrdom, risked 
 more than her life for her august lord and lady; who never 
 said or did anything but their orders, but said and did all that 
 she was enjoined, however dangerous the task. The object of 
 these calumnies is Madame Campan, in whose favour Marie An- 
 toinette wrote, in 1792, a testamentary disposition, extremely 
 honourable to the devotion of the subject, and to the goodness 
 of the sovereign. It is Madame Campan, to whom Louis XVI. 
 in 1792, confided the most secret and dangerous papers; for 
 whom Louis XVI. in the cell of the Feuillans, on the 10th of 
 August, 1792, cut off two locks of his hair, giving her one for 
 herself, another for her sister, whilst the Queen, throwing her 
 arms about their necks by turns, said to them : " Unhappy 
 women, you are unfortunate only on my account : I am still 
 more wretched than you."* Slander has little effect on youth ; 
 the long futurity to which the young look forward, makes them 
 hope to triumph over it : but, in the decline of life, its darts are 
 envenomed with a mortal poison : the griefs which then oppress 
 the heart tear open all its old wounds. Those which Madame 
 
 * Extract of a manuscript Memoir, relating to Madame Campan. 
 
 Were it necessary to adduce another most respectable testimonial, 
 we might rely on the following letter, written to Madame Campan, on 
 the 27th of April, 1816, by the Duchess de Tourzel. 
 
 " I am perfectly sensible, madame, of the pain you must suffer from 
 everything which can possibly tend to throw any doubt on your attach- 
 ment and fidelity to the august princess, whom you had the honour to 
 serve, in the duties you performed about her person. 
 
 I have great pleasure, madame, in doing you the justice of declar- 
 ing that, during the three years in which my place afforded me fre-
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xxxvii 
 
 Campan had received were deep. Her sister, Madame Auguie, 
 had destroyed herself; M. Rousseau, her brother-in-law, had 
 perished a victim in the reign of terror. In 1813, a dreadful 
 accident had deprived her of her niece, Madame de Broc, one of 
 the most amiable and interesting beings that ever adorned the 
 earth. Madame Campan seemed destined to behold those whom 
 she loved go down to the grave before her. In the cemetery of 
 Pere la Chaise, amongst those ostentatious mausoleums, gene- 
 rally loaded with lying epitaphs ; by the side of those monu- 
 ments, most of which seem raised to flatter the pride of the 
 living rather than out of respect for the ashes of those who sleep 
 beneath them ; there is a modest grave, on which she has often 
 been seen to weep. No marble decorates it ; no inscription is 
 read upon it ; it is remarkable chiefly for its simplicity ; the 
 unostentatious turf, betraying a grief which shrinks from obser- 
 vation, is the only clue to the secret of the tomb. 
 
 After so many troubles, Madame Campan sought a peaceful 
 retreat. Paris, the abode of apathy and ambition, of the wicked 
 who promulgate slanders, and the fools who believe them; 
 Paris, inhabited by crowds of men, always equally ready to 
 flatter the powerful of the day, and to revile him whom they 
 flattered the day before ; Paris, its frivolity, its noisy pleasures, 
 its egotism, had for some years been insupportable to her. One 
 of her most beloved pupils, Mademoiselle Crouzet, had married 
 
 quent access to our great and too hapless Queen, I always observed 
 your readiness to show your respect and attachment. I have been 
 witness to her giving you proofs of a peculiar confidence, and to your 
 discretipn and fidelity in various circumstances ; which qualities you 
 particularly evinced on occasion of that unfortunate journey to Varen- 
 nes ; the reports raised on this subject against you, were the most un-I 
 just possible. I saw you at the Feuillans, on the night of the 10th of 
 August, offering the Queen the homage of your grief, although it was 
 not at that time your month of duty. This is a testimony which I pay 
 to truth, and I should think myself happy, if my letter could afford 
 any consolation to the anguish with which your heart is oppressed. 
 I am, madame, &c. 
 
 CROY D'HAVRE, DUCHESSE DE TOURZEL."
 
 xxxviii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 a physician at Mantes, a man of talent, distinguished for 
 information, frankness, and cordiality.* Madame Campan paid 
 her pupil a visit. Mantes is a pretty little town. The woods 
 of Rosny, which surround it ; the Seine, which laves it with its 
 waters ; isles planted with lofty poplars, and shady walks, which 
 promise an agreeable solitude, render Mantes a pleasant, cheer- 
 ful residence. This abode pleased her. She soon fixed her 
 habitation there. A few intimate friends formed a pleasant 
 society, in which she took pleasure. She enjoyed, with surprise, 
 a little tranquillity, after so many disturbances. The revisal of 
 her Memoirs, the arrangement of the interesting anecdotes 
 of which her Recollections were to consist, were the only affairs 
 which ever diverted her mind from the one powerful sentiment 
 which attached her to life. 
 
 She lived only for her son ; for him alone she would have 
 wished for favour or riches : he was her consolation, her wealth, 
 her hope ; in him she had concentrated all the inclinations of a 
 heart often deceived in its affections. M. Campan deserved the 
 tenderness of his mother. No sacrifice had been spared for his 
 education. He was accomplished, had much taste, and made 
 agreeable verses. After having pursued that course of study, 
 which, under the imperial government, produced men of distin- 
 guished merit, he was waiting till time and circumstances should 
 afford him an opportunity of devoting his services to his coun- 
 try. Although the state of his health was far from good, it did 
 not threaten any rapid or premature decay : he was, however, 
 after a few days' illness, suddenly taken from his family. How 
 was the mother to be informed of this loss ? Who could bear 
 
 * M. Maignes, physician to the infirmaries at Mantes. Madame 
 Campan found in him, both in her mental and bodily affliction, a friend 
 and comforter, of whose merit and affection she knew the value. The 
 attentions which he constantly paid her in the course of her illness, 
 induced him to write an account of it, which evinces his great know- 
 ledge of physiology, and in which he has faithfully preserved the last 
 conversation of Madame Campan. In communicating this mauscript to 
 me, he favoured me with many interesting particulars, for which I have 
 now the pleasure of thanking him.
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xxiix 
 
 to inflict this mortal blow ? M. Maignes, in an account with 
 which he was pleased to intrust us, describes this sad moment 
 with mournful accuracy. " I never witnessed so heart-rending 
 a scene/' he says, " as that which took place when Marshal 
 Ney's lady, her niece, and Madame Pannelier, her sister, came 
 to acquaint her with this misfortune. When they entered her 
 apartment, she was in bed. All three at once uttered a piercing 
 cry. The two ladies threw themselves on their knees, and 
 kissed her hands, which they bedewed with tears. Before they 
 could speak to her, she read in their faces, that she no longer 
 possessed a son. At that instant her large eyes, opening widely, 
 seemed to wander. Her face grew pale, her features changed, 
 her lips lost their colour, she struggled to speak, but uttered 
 only inarticulate sounds, accompanied by piercing cries. Her 
 gestures were wild her reason was suspended. Every part of 
 her being was in agony. Her respiration scarcely sufficed for 
 the efforts which this unhappy mother made to express her 
 grief, and give vent to her sufferings. To this state of anguish 
 and despair no calm succeeded, until her tears began to flow. 
 Never in my life did I see anything so sad and so awful : never 
 will the impression I received be effaced from my memory. 
 Friendship, and the tenderest cares, succeeded for a moment in 
 calming her grief, but not in diminishing its power. This 
 violent crisis had disturbed her whole organization. A cruel 
 disorder, which requires a still more cruel operation, soon mani- 
 fested itself. The presence of her family, a tour which she 
 made in Switzerland, a residence at the waters of Baden, and, 
 above all, the sight, the tender and charming conversation of a 
 person by whom she was affectionately beloved, occasionally 
 diverted her mind, but relieved her sufferings only in a very 
 slight degree. She returned to Mantes, resolved to undergo 
 the operation ; and, from that moment, far from betraying a 
 moment's weakness or hesitation, she herself hastened the mo- 
 ment, which, as she said, was to restore her to hope and health. 
 With the strength of mind which defies pain, she combined the 
 energy of will which masters it. Not a cry, not a gesture 
 VOL. r. 5
 
 xl BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 escaped her. So much courage astonished old warriors accus- 
 tomed to the sight of fields of battle, and surprised the profes- 
 sional men themselves.* Up to the moment of commencing 
 the operation, she discoursed freely and calmly with them. 
 The pain which followed the operation, did not seem to have 
 altered her serenity. " Gentlemen," said she, cheerfully, to her 
 physicians, "/ had much rather hear you talk, than see 
 you act." 
 
 The operation was performed with extraordinary promptitude, 
 and the most complete success, by M. Voisin, a most skilful sur- 
 geon of Versailles. No unfavourable symptoms appeared ; the 
 wound cicatrized ; Madame Campan was thought to be restored 
 to her friends ; but the disorder was in the blood ; it took ano- 
 ther course ; the chest became affected. " From that moment," 
 says M. Maignes, who watched her malady with all the solici- 
 tude of friendship, " I could never look on Madame Campan as 
 living; she herself felt that she belonged no more to this 
 world." 
 
 When she thought of her family, of her friends at Manfes, 
 and of all those who loved her with the most lively affection, her 
 heart failed, and in those moments of affecting weakness, she 
 would say, " I shall not die, doctor, shall I ?" But soon re- 
 suming her courage, she imparted to others a hope which she 
 no longer cherished herself. She constantly saw near her a 
 woman who had never quitted her for forty years ; who had 
 shared in her troubles as well as in her hours of prosperity ; who 
 guessed her thoughts, watched her slightest wishes, and repaid 
 her unbounded confidence, by the attentions of the tenderest 
 attachment : here all who knew Madame Campan will name 
 Madame Yoisin. " Courage," said she, " death will not separate 
 two friends like us."f 
 
 * Colonel Heme, one of the best officers of the old army, assisted 
 the surgeons during the operation. 
 
 j- Death, in fact, will not separate them. The family of Madame 
 Campan has erected a tomb to her in the cemetery of Mantes. It 
 bears a simple epitaph on a column of white marble, surmounted by
 
 OF MADAME CAMP AN. xll 
 
 She herself set the example of the strength of mind with 
 which she wished to inspire others. Sometimes looking back to 
 the days of her youth, she saw, in imagination, the young girl 
 so lively and gay, surprised by Louis XV. in the midst of her 
 play. Sometimes she thought with emotion on the kindness 
 with which Marie Antoinette repaid her attachment. "The 
 bull's-eye at Versailles," said she, "will never forgive me, for 
 having obtained the confidence of the King and Queen. The 
 demands of a swarm of flatterers were frequently unjust, and 
 when the Queen condescended to consult me, I spoke with 
 sincerity."* 
 
 Sometimes the fate of France occupied her thoughts. The 
 light, which the throne itself diffuses, was, in her opinion, the 
 only security against the extravagant claims of some individuals. 
 " Power," said she, " now resides in the laws. In any other 
 situation it would be misplaced. But this truth escapes them. 
 The dust of old parchments blinds them."f 
 
 The day before her death, " My friend," she said, to her phy- 
 sician, " I throw myself into the arms of Providence ; that is the 
 only invisible support that can sustain us. The idea is consol- 
 ing ; I am much attached to the simplicity of my religion : I 
 revere it; I hate all that savours of fanaticism." J When her 
 codicil was presented for her signature, her hand trembled ; " It 
 would be a pity," she said, "to stop, when so fairly ou the 
 road." 
 
 The day she died her window was opened. The sky was 
 clear, the air pure and fresh. " This resembles the air and cli- 
 mate of Switzerland," said she } "I passed there two months 
 
 an urn. Tufts of dahlia adorn the four corners of the monument : be- 
 neath is the vault which contains her ashes. The friend she has left 
 will repose near her. 
 
 * M. Maigne's account. 
 
 f Ibid. 
 
 J Ibid. Before she submitted to an operation which is almost al- 
 ways fatal, Madame Campan had scrupulously fulfilled her religious 
 duties.
 
 xlii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 of unmixed happiness. Her soul is so noble, and our hearts 
 
 understand each other so well !" 
 
 Her dissolution rapidly approached. Her mind had lost 
 nothing of its strength. " Notwithstanding my condition/' said 
 she, " I am desirous of expressing my thoughts." " I was a 
 little way from her bed," adds her physician, whose words we 
 have quoted. " She called me in rather a higher tone than usual : 
 I ran to her. Then, reproaching herself for this little hastiness, 
 ' How imperious one is/ she said, ' when one has no time for 
 politeness.' A moment after, she was no more." 
 
 Her friends witnessed her decease on the 16th of March, 
 1822. The cheerfulness she displayed throughout her malady, 
 had nothing forced or affected in it. Her character was natu- 
 rally powerful and elevated. At the approach of death, she 
 evinced the soul of a sage, without abandoning for an instant her 
 feminine character ; without renouncing the hopes and consola- 
 tions of a Christian. Her religion inclined to indulgence and 
 mildness, which is constantly the case with those whose piety is 
 more a matter of faith and sentiment than of formal observance. 
 Though she had long lived in the higher circles, she did not des- 
 pise the human race. The envious had never been able to excite 
 a feeling of hatred in her mind ; the ungrateful had not wearied 
 her benevolence. Her credit, her time, her plans belonged to 
 her friends ; her purse was always open to the unfortunate. 
 
 One profound sentiment, her attachment to the Queen one 
 constant study, the education of youth, occupied her whole life. 
 Napoleon once said to her, " the old systems of education were 
 good for nothing what do young women stand in need of, to be 
 well brought up in France ?" " Of mothers !" answered Madame 
 Campan. " It is well said," replied Napoleon. " Well, Ma- 
 dame, let the French be indebted to you for bringing up mothers 
 for their children." Madame Campan's answer contains the 
 leading idea of her system of education. All the cares of this 
 excellent preceptress tended to enable her pupils to be one day 
 the teachers of their own daughters. The instructions which she 
 read on Sundays to the young ladies at St. Germain ; the little
 
 OP MADAME CAMPAN. xliii 
 
 anecdotes which she composed, as much for their instruction as 
 for her own amusement } the work which she was finishing at 
 the moment of her death, and which contains the fruits of 
 twenty years' experience, are all directed to the same object.* 
 " Women/' said she to her friends, " have lost the empire which 
 chivalric gallantry formerly gave them. They would now dis- 
 dain that which they obtained, at a later period, in the boudoir, 
 or on the brilliant stage of the court. Their new dominion ought 
 to be founded upon good morals, and not in opposition to them. 
 Their success, although perhaps less striking, will be more satis- 
 
 * Madame Campan has left several manuscript tales and plays, of 
 which we shall only quote the titles : " The Old Woman of the Cabin ; 
 Arabella, or the English Boarding-School ; the two Educations ; The 
 Little Strolling Players ; The Amateur Concerts, &c." The object of 
 all these is the instruction of youth. In her last moments she was 
 completing a work of a more elevated class, On the Education of Women. 
 No one could do more ample justice to this interesting title, than her- 
 self. I will quote the first words of this Treatise : 
 
 "My work will be destitute," she said, "of the attraction of those 
 fictions almost always connected with plans of education ; and the 
 quantity of details which I must lay before my readers, gives me some 
 uneasiness. I am also fearful of being led away by my partiality for 
 those innocent and lovely creatures, of whom an amiable crowd sur- 
 rounded me for so many years, and to whom I have been indebted for 
 such delightful hours ; sometimes I am doubtful, whether a sort of 
 slowness, the first sad infirmity of age, does not prolong my discourses 
 in spite of me ; then I recollect, that I am dedicating my work to my 
 former pupils, who are now mothers of families : I consider that in 
 devoting to them the fruit of long experience, I am speaking to them 
 of their dearest affections : and then I feel encouraged." 
 
 This work will probably appear, as soon as the different pieces which 
 Madame Campan had finished, can be arranged. Her plays will be 
 added. 
 
 It is generally known, that Madame Campan has published the Con- 
 versations of a Mother with her Daughters. These dialogues have 
 been translated into Italian and English. Madame Campan understood 
 the latter language extremely well. She had given lessons in English 
 to the Queen, and preserved exercises written in that language by 
 Marie Antoinette, until her house was burnt, on the 10th of August. 
 5*
 
 xliv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE 
 
 factory and durable. Every day adds to their information, 
 without detracting from the lighter gf aces, the modest virtues of 
 their sex. But it is not sufficient for their beauty to please, for 
 their wit to charm ; they must command esteem by their qua- 
 lities j their talents must be destined to form the delight of 
 their family, and the circle of their duties must become that of 
 their pleasures likewise." 
 
 Surrounded by pupils to whom her conversation was a reward, 
 whether she talked to them of the duties of their sex, or of 
 the most interesting facts in history, the inquisitive, attentive 
 crowd pressed around her, eager to catch every word. Some- 
 times her judicious and keen understanding would draw a salu- 
 tary lesson from a little amusing story. In past events, she often 
 sought traits calculated to enlighten their minds and elevate their 
 sentiments. I call on all the pupils of Ecouen to bear witness, 
 how often she spoke to them of Louis IV., of Charles V., of Louis 
 XII., of Henry IV., in particular, and of the virtues with which 
 they and their successors had adorned the throne. When she came 
 to the stormy period of the revolution, she would explain to 
 them the outrages committed against royal majesty, tell them 
 of the descendants of kings living in a foreign land, of Louis 
 XVI. and his misfortunes, of the Queen and the afflictions she 
 had been made to endure. These recitals affected their young 
 hearts. When they heard her talk of the royal family of 
 France, the daughters of Napoleon's warriors learned the respect 
 that should be paid to calamity, and the gratitude due for benefits 
 received. 
 
 Beyond the walls of the mansion of Ecouen, in the village 
 which surrounds it, Madame Campan had taken a small house 
 where she loved to pass a few hours in solitary retirement. 
 There, at liberty to abandon herself to the memory of the past, 
 the superintendent of the imperial establishment became, once 
 more, for the moment the first femme de chambre to Marie An- 
 toinette. To the few friends whom she admitted into this 
 retreat,, she would show, with emotion, a plain muslin gown 
 which the Queen had worn, and which was made from a part
 
 OF MADAME CAMPAN. xlv 
 
 of Tippoo Saib's present. A cup, out of which Marie Antoinette 
 had drunk, a writing stand, which she had long used, were, in 
 her eyes, of inestimable value ; and she has often been discovered 
 sitting, in tears, before the picture which represented her royal 
 mistress. 
 
 " Pardon me, august shade ! unhappy Queen, pardon me," 
 she says, in a fragment I have preserved in her handwriting; 
 " thy portrait is near me whilst I am writing these words. My 
 imagination, impressed with the remembrance of thy sorrows, 
 every instant directs my eyes to those features which I wish to 
 animate, and to read in them whether I am doing service to thy 
 memory in writing this work. When I look at that noble 
 head, which fell by the fury of barbarians, tears fill my eyes, 
 and suspend my narration. Yes, I will speak the truth, by which 
 thy shade can never be injured; truth must prove favourable to 
 her whom falsehood so cruelly wronged." 
 
 What should I add to these eloquent words ? Madame Campan 
 is no more ; let those who slandered her life now insult her me- 
 mory ; her writings will defend her better than I can. 
 
 F. BARRIERE.
 

 
 
 AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 THE shelves of our libraries bend under the weight of printed 
 works relating to the last years of the eighteenth century. The 
 grand moral and political causes of our revolutions have already 
 been ably traced by superior intellects. But posterity will look 
 also for the secret springs by which these events were brought 
 about. Nothing but memoirs, penned by ministers and favour- 
 ites, will alone satisfy the inquisitiveness of our descendants, and 
 even these, only to a certain extent ; for kings very seldom 
 yield unbounded confidence. The sovereign intrusts to one of 
 those who surround him, a secret mission, no way militating 
 against his own known sentiments ; and developes to him all 
 the details of some affair of high interest. The courtier pro- 
 ceeds under a persuasion of the importance of his mission ; but 
 while his pride is flattering itself, while he reposes on a cer- 
 tainty that the royal heart has been opened before him, he little 
 suspects, in the blindness of his vanity, the thousand folds, al- 
 ways to be concealed from him, which that heart contains. He 
 is but the dupe and tool of him whose confidant he fancies him- 
 self. Some other person has, perhaps, at the very same moment, 
 received an opposite commission, which, probably, no more tal- 
 lies with the real designs of the prince than the former. Each 
 singly thinks himself the sole depositary of his sovereign's 
 thoughts ; and upon this hollow basis each erects his shadowy 
 edifice of a credit which he does not possess. 
 
 This court-game is especially in vogue when the superior power 
 
 (47)
 
 xlviii PREFACE. 
 
 is under the necessity of satisfying, or of conciliating, opposite 
 opinions, without really adopting either. But the practice of 
 thus scattering marks of an illusory confidence has this result, 
 that when the time of commotion and faction arrives, the sove- 
 reign finds himself without any solid support, or disinterested 
 attachment. 
 
 Louis XVI. possessed an immense crowd of confidants, ad- 
 visers, and guides : he selected them even from among the fac- 
 tions which attacked him. Never, perhaps, did he make a full 
 disclosure to any one of them, and certainly he spoke with sin- 
 cerity to but very few. He invariably kept the reins of all 
 secret intrigues, in his own hand ; and thence, doubtless, arose 
 the want of co-operation and the weakness which were so con- 
 spicuous in his measures. From these causes considerable 
 chasms will be found in the detailed history of the revolution. 
 
 In order to become thoroughly acquainted with the latter years 
 of the reign of Louis XV., memoirs written by the Duke de Choi- 
 seul, the Duke d'Aiguillon, the Marshal de Richelieu,* and the 
 Duke de la Vauguyon, should be before us. To give us a faith- 
 ful portrait of the unfortunate reign of Louis XVI., the Marshal 
 ctu Muy, M. de Maurepas, M. de Vergennes, M. de Malesherbes, 
 the Duke d'Orleans, M. de la Fayette, the Abbe" de Vermond, 
 the Abbe" Montesquiou, Mirabeau, the Duchess de Polignac, and 
 the Duchess de Luynes, should have noted faithfully in writing 
 all the transactions in which they took decided parts. ~f As to the 
 secret history of affairs of a later period, it has been disseminated 
 
 * I heard the Marshal de Richelieu desire M. Campan, who was 
 librarian to the Queen, not to buy the Memoirs, which would certainly 
 be attributed to him after his death, declaring them false by anticipa- 
 tion : and adding, that he was ignorant of orthography, and had never 
 amused himself with writing. Shortly after the death of the marshal, 
 one Soulavie put forth Memoirs of the Marshal de Richelieu. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 f Nothing hinders the partial realization of this supposition. Among 
 the personages here enumerated by Madame Campan, we know some, 
 whose names may very shortly appear to Memoirs of great interest. 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 PREFACE. xlix 
 
 among a much greater number of persons ; there are ministers 
 who have published memoirs, but solely when they had their 
 own measures to justify, and then they confined themselves to 
 the vindication of their own characters, without which powerful 
 motive they probably would have written nothing. In general, 
 those nearest to the sovereign, either by birth or by office, have 
 left no memoirs ; and in absolute monarchies the main springs 
 of great events will be found in particulars which the most 
 exalted persons alone could know. Those who have had but 
 little under their charge, find in that little no subject for a book; 
 and those who have long borne the burthen of public business, 
 conceive themselves to be forbidden by duty, or by respect for 
 authority, to disclose all they know. Others again preserve 
 notes, with the intention of reducing them to order, when they 
 shall have reached the period of a happy leisure ; vain illusion 
 of the ambitious, which they cherish, for the most part, but as 
 a veil to conceal from their sight the terrifying image of their 
 inevitable downfall ! and when that event, at length, takes 
 place, despair deprives them of fortitude to dwell upon the 
 dazzling period which they never cease to regret. 
 
 And yet the historian, who is sometimes perplexed at having 
 to choose among the differing versions presented to him by 
 contemporaries, is much more so if writings are wanting to him. 
 He then has recourse to tradition, and trusts to popular talk ; 
 he draws portraits from the political caricatures sketched by 
 hatred, or by flattery; calumny is perpetuated, and some noble 
 characters remain blackened for ever. An ill conducted enter- 
 prise is called criminal; and a successful villain becomes a 
 hero. History, thus written, furnishes no lesson ; it is either 
 a romance, or a polluted and unconnected collection of libels, 
 which perhaps brought the smile of contempt even into the face 
 of him who wrote them. 
 
 Louis XVI. meant to write his own memoirs : the manner in 
 which his private papers were arranged, pointed out this design. 
 The Queen, also, had the same intention; she long preserved a 
 large correspondence, and a great number of minute reports,
 
 1 PREFACE. 
 
 made in the spirit and upon the event of the moment. But after 
 the 20th of June, 1792, she was obliged to burn the larger por- 
 tion of what she had so collected. Some parts of the correspond- 
 ence preserved by the Queen, were conveyed out of France. 
 
 Considering the rank and situations of the persons I have 
 named, as capable of elucidating, by their writings, the history 
 of our political storms, it will not be imagined that I aim at 
 placing myself on a level with the daughters of Louis XV., or 
 with Marie Antoinette. I knew the characters of those prin- 
 cesses ; I became privy to some extraordinary facts, the publi- 
 cation of which may be interesting, and the truth of the details 
 will form the merit of my work. 
 
 I was very young when I was placed about the princesses, 
 the daughters of Louis XV., in the capacity of reader. I was 
 acquainted with the court of Versailles, before the time of 
 the marriage of Louis XVI. with the archduchess Marie An- 
 toinette. 
 
 My father, who was employed in the department of Foreign 
 Affairs, enjoyed the reputation due to his talents, and to his 
 useful labours. He had travelled much. Frenchmen, on their 
 return home from foreign countries, bring with them a love for 
 their own, increased in warmth ; and no man was more pene- 
 trated with this feeling, which ought to be the first virtue of 
 every placeman, than my father. Men of the first celebrity, 
 academicians, and learned individuals, both natives and foreign- 
 ers, sought my father's acquaintance ; and were gratified by being 
 admitted into his house. 
 
 Twenty years before the Revolution, I often heard it remarked 
 that the imposing character of the power of Louis XIV. was no 
 longer to be found in the palace of Versailles ; that the institu- 
 tions of the ancient monarchy were rapidly sinking; and that 
 the people, crushed beneath the weight of taxes, were miserable 
 though silent; but that they began to give ear to the bold 
 speeches of the philosophers, who loudly proclaimed their suffer- 
 ings, and their rights; and in short, that the age would not
 
 PREFACE. li 
 
 pass away without the occurrence of some grand shock, which 
 would unsettle France, and change the course of its progress. 
 
 Those who thus spoke, were almost all partisans of M. Tur- 
 got's system of administration : they were Mirabeau the father, 
 Doctor Quesnay, Abbe Baudeau, and Abbe Nicoli, charge" 
 d'affaires to Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, and as enthu- 
 siastic an admirer of the maxims of the innovators as his 
 sovereign. 
 
 My father sincerely respected the purity of intention of these 
 politicians. With them he acknowledged many abuses in the 
 government ; but he did not give these political sectarians credit 
 for the talent necessary for conducting a judicious reform. He 
 told them frankly, that in the art of moving the great machine 
 of government, the wisest of them was inferior to a good police 
 magistrate ; and that, if ever the helm of affairs should be put 
 into their hands, they would be speedily checked in the execu- 
 tion of their schemes, by the immeasurable difference existing 
 between the most brilliant theories and the simplest practice of 
 administration. 
 
 In one of these conversations, which, young as I was, engaged 
 my attention, I heard my father compare the monarchy of France 
 to a beautiful and antique statue : he agreed, that the pedestal 
 which supported it was mouldering away ; and that the con- 
 tours of the statue were disappearing under the parasitical plants 
 which were gradually covering it. " But," he inquired, with a 
 feeling of painful apprehension, "where is the artist skilful 
 enough to repair the base, without shaking the statue ?" Such 
 adepts were not to be found; and the attempts at restoration 
 only precipitated ruin. The storm of passion burst, the whole 
 monument gave way, and its fall jarred all Europe ! 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Court of Louis XV. His Character The King's Debotter Characters 
 of the Princesses Retirement of Madame Louise to the Carmelites 
 of Saint Denis Madame du Barry The Court divided between the 
 Party of the Duke de Choiseul and that of the Duke d'Aiguillon. 
 
 I WAS fifteen years of age when I was appointed reader to 
 the princesses. I will begin by describing the court at that 
 period. 
 
 Maria Leckzinska was just dead ; the death of the dauphin 
 had preceded hers by three years ; the Jesuits were suppressed, 
 and piety was to be found at court only in the apartments of the 
 princesses. The Duke de Choiseul was in power. 
 
 The King thought of nothing but the pleasures of the chase ; 
 it might have been imagined that the courtiers indulged thenW- 
 selves in epigrammatizing, by hearing them say seriously on 
 those days when the King did not hunt, the King does nothing 
 to-day. 
 
 Little journeys were also affairs of great importance with the 
 King. On the first day of the year, he noted down in his 
 almanac the days of departure for Compiegne, for Fontaine- 
 
 (53)
 
 64 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 bleau, Choisy, &c. The weightiest matters, the most serious 
 events, never deranged this distribution of his time. 
 
 Etiquette still existed at court with all the strictness it had 
 acquired under Louis XIV.; dignity alone was wanting. As 
 to gayety, it was out of the question : Versailles no longer pre- 
 sented an assemblage graced by French wit and elegance. The 
 focus of wit and information was Paris. 
 
 Since the death of the Marchioness de Pompadour, the King 
 had no awowed mistress ; he contented himself with the plea- 
 sures he derived from his little seraglio of the Parc-au-Cerfs. 
 It is well known that the monarch found the separation of 
 Louis de Bourbon from the King of France, the most pleasing 
 feature of his royal existence. They would have it so; they 
 thought it for the best; was his way of expressing himself when 
 the measures of his ministers were unsuccessful. The King 
 delighted to manage the most disgraceful particulars of his pri- 
 vate expenses himself; he one day sold to a head clerk in the 
 war department, a house, in which one of his mistresses had 
 lodged ; the contract ran in the name of Louis de Bourbon ; and 
 the purchaser himself took in a bag the price of the house in 
 gold to the King in his private closet. 
 
 Louis XV. saw very little of his family; he came every 
 morning, by a private staircase, into the apartment of Madame 
 Adelaide. He often brought and drank there, coffee that he 
 had made himself. Madame Adelaide pulled a bell, which 
 apprised Madame Victoire of the King's visit; Madame Vic- 
 toire, on rising to go to her sister's apartment, rang for Madame 
 Sophie, who in her turn rang for Madame Louise. The apart- 
 ments of the princesses were of very large dimensions. Madame 
 Louise occupied the farthest room. The latter poor princess 
 was deformed and very short : she used to run with all her 
 might to join the daily meeting; but in spite of her haste, 
 having a number of rooms to cross, she frequently had only 
 just time to embrace her father before he set out for the chase 
 
 Every evening at six, the ladies interrupted my reading to 
 them, to accompany the princes to Louis XV. ; this visit was
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 55 
 
 called the King's dcbottcr* and was marked by a kind of 
 etiquette. The princesses put on an enormous hoop, which set 
 out a petticoat ornamented with gold or embroidery; they 
 fastened a long train round their waists, and concealed the 
 undress of the rest of their clothing by a long cloak of black 
 taffety which enveloped them up to the chin. The gentlemen 
 ushers, the ladies in waiting, the pages, the esquires, and the 
 ushers bearing large flambeaux, accompanied them to the King. 
 In a moment the whole palace, generally so still, was in motion ; 
 the King kissed each princess on the forehead, and the visit 
 was so short, that the reading which it interrupted was fre- 
 quently resumed at the end of a quarter of an hour : the 
 princesses returned to their apartments, untied the strings of 
 their petticoats and trains, resumed their tapestry, and I 
 returned to my book. 
 
 During the summer season, the King sometimes came to the 
 residence of the princesses before the hour of his dclotter. One 
 day he found me alone in Madame Victoire's closet, and asked 
 me where Coclie\ was : I stared, and he repeated his question, 
 but without being at all the more understood. "When the King 
 was gone, I asked madame of whom he spoke. She told me 
 that it was herself, and very coolly explained to me, that being 
 the fattest of his daughters, the King had given her the familiar 
 name of Coche; and that he called Madame Adelaide, Loque;^ 
 Madame Sophie, Graille; and Madame Louise, Chiffe.\\ No- 
 thing but the zest of these contrasts could afford the King any 
 amusement in the use of such words. The people of his house- 
 hold observed that he knew a great number of them, and it 
 was supposed that he had learned them from his mistresses; 
 possibly, too, he had amused himself with picking them out 
 from dictionaries. If this style of speaking betrayed the habits 
 and tastes of the King, his manner, however, savoured nothing 
 of such vulgarity; his walk was easy and noble; he had a 
 
 * Debotter meaning the time of unbooting.- Tr. 
 j- The fat pig. J Rag. 
 
 \ Scrap. II Bad silk, or stuff. 
 
 6*
 
 66 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 dignified carriage of the head; and his aspect, without being 
 severe, was imposing : he combined great politeness with a truly 
 regal demeanour, and gracefully saluted the humblest female 
 whom curiosity led into his path. 
 
 He was very expert in a number of little trifling matters, 
 which never occupy attention but for want of something better 
 to employ it; for instance, he would knock off the top of an 
 egg-shell, very cleverly, at a single stroke of his fork; he there- 
 fore always ate eggs when he dined in public, and the Parisian 
 cockneys, who came on Sundays to see the King dine, returned 
 home less struck with his fine figure than with the dexterity 
 with which he broke his eggs. 
 
 Repartees of Louis XV. which marked the keenness of his wit 
 and the elevation of his sentiments, were quoted with pleasure 
 in the assemblies of Versailles. They have been recorded in 
 collections of anecdotes, and are generally known. 
 
 This prince was still beloved ; it was wished that a style of 
 life, suitable to his age and dignity, should at length cast a veil 
 over the follies of the past, and justify the love cherished by 
 the French for his youth. It gave them pain to judge him 
 harshly. The princesses were blamed for not seeking to prevent 
 the danger of the King's forming an intimacy with some new 
 favourite. Madame Henriette, twin sister of the Duchess of 
 Parma, was much regretted; for she had considerable in- 
 fluence over the King's mind, and it was remarked, that if 
 she had lived, she would have been assiduous in finding him 
 amusements in the bosom of his family ; that she would have 
 followed him in his short excursions, and would have done the 
 honours of the petits soupers which he was so fond of giving in 
 his private apartments. 
 
 The princesses had too much neglected the means of pleasing 
 the King ; but this obviously arose from the little attention he 
 had paid them in their youth. 
 
 In order to console the people under their sufferings, and to 
 shut their eyea to the real depredations of the treasury, the 
 ministers occasionally pressed the most extravagant measures
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 67 
 
 of reform, in the King's household, and even on his personal 
 expenses. 
 
 Cardinal Fleury, who in truth had the merit of re-establish- 
 ing the finances, carried this system of economy so far, as to 
 obtain from the King the suppression of the household and edu- 
 cation of the four younger princesses. They were brought up 
 as mere boarders, in a convent, eight leagues distant from the 
 coast. Saint-Cyr would have been more suitable for the recep- 
 tion of the King's daughters ; probably the cardinal was infected 
 with some of those prejudices which will always attach to even 
 the most useful institutions; and which, since the death of 
 Louis XIV., had been raised against the noble establishment 
 of Madame de Maintenon. He preferred intrusting the educa- 
 tion of the princesses to a provincial sisterhood. Madame Louise 
 often assured me, that at twelve years of age she was not mistress 
 of the whole alphabet, and never learned to read fluently until 
 after her return to Versailles. 
 
 Madame Victoire attributed certain paroxysms of panic terror, 
 which she was never able to conquer, to the violent alarms she 
 experienced at the Abbey of Fontevrault, when she was sent, by 
 way of penance, to pray alone, in the vault where the sisters 
 were interred. No salutary foresight had been exerted to pre- 
 serve these princesses from those dismal impressions, against 
 which the most unenlightened mother knows how to guard her 
 children. 
 
 A gardener belonging to the abbey died raving mad : his 
 habitation, without the walls, was in the neighbourhood of a 
 chapel of the abbey, where the princesses were taken to repeat 
 the prayers for those in the agonies of death. Their prayers 
 were more than once interrupted by the shrieks of the dying 
 man. 
 
 The most absurd indulgences were mixed with these cruel 
 practices. Madame Adelaide, the eldest of the princesses, was 
 haughty and passionate : the good sisters never failed to give 
 way to her ^idiculous fancies. The dancing-master, the only 
 professor of graceful accomplishments who had followed the
 
 68 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ladies to Fontevrault, was teaching them a dance then much in 
 fashion, ;vhich "was called the rose-coloured minuet. Madame 
 Adelaide insisted that it should be named the blue minuet. The 
 teacher resisted her whim, and urged that he should be laughed 
 at, at court, if the princess should talk of a blue minuet. The 
 princess refused to take her lesson, stamped, and repeated blue, 
 blue. Rose, rose, said the master. The sisterhood assembled to 
 decide the important case ; the nuns cried blue with the prin- 
 cess; the minuet was re-christened, and she danced. Among 
 women so little worthy of the office of an instructress, there 
 was, however, one sister, who, by her judicious tenderness, and 
 by the useful proofs which she gave of it to the princesses, enti- 
 tled herself to their attachment, and obtained their gratitude : 
 this was Madame de Soulanges, whom they afterwards caused to 
 be appointed abbess of Royal-Lieu.* They also toot upon them- 
 selves the promotion of this lady's nephews ; those of Madame 
 Mac-Carthy, who had weakly indulged her charge, carried for a 
 long time the musket of the King's guard at the door of the 
 princesses, without the latter thinking of advancing their for- 
 tune. 
 
 When the princesses, still very young, returned to court, they 
 enjoyed the friendship of the dauphin, and profited by his advice. 
 They devoted themselves ardently to study, and gave up almost 
 the whole of their time to it ; they enabled themselves to write 
 French correctly, and acquired a good knowledge of history. 
 Madame Adelaide, in particular, had a most insatiable desire 
 to learn ; she was taught to play upon all instruments from the 
 horn (will it be believed !) to the Jew's harp. Italian, English, 
 
 * This excellent woman fell a victim to the revolutionary madness. 
 She and her numerous sisters were led to the scaffold on the same day. 
 While leaving the prison, they all chanted the Veni Creator, upon the 
 fatal car. When arrived at the place of execution they did not inter- 
 rupt their strains. One head fell, and ceased to join its voice with the 
 celestial chorus but the strain continued. The abbess suffered last , 
 and her single voice, with increased tone, still raised the devout ver- 
 8icle. It ceased at once it was the silence of death ! 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 69 
 
 the higher branches of the mathematics, turning and dialling, 
 successively filled up the leisure moments of the princesses. 
 Madame Adelaide was graced for a short time with a charming 
 figure : but never did beauty vanish so quickly. Madame Vic- 
 toire was handsome, and very graceful ; her address, mien, and 
 smile, were in perfect accordance with the goodness of her heart. 
 Madame Sophie was remarkably ugly ; never did I behold a per- 
 son of so revolting an appearance : she walked with the greatest 
 rapidity ; and, in order to recognise people without looking at 
 them, she had acquired the habit of leering on one side, like a 
 hare. This princess was so exceedingly diffident, that a person 
 might be with her daily, for years together, without hearing her 
 utter a single word. It was asserted, however, that she dis- 
 played talent, and even attractiveness, in the society of some 
 favourite ladies. She taught herself a great deal, but she 
 studied alone ; the presence of a reader would ham disconcerted 
 her very much. There were, however, occasionl^lh which this 
 princess, generally so untractable, became all at once affable and 
 condescending, and manifested the most communicative good 
 nature ; this would happen during a storm ; she was afraid of 
 it, and so great was her alarm on such an occasion, that she 
 then approached the most humble, and would ask them a 
 thousand obliging questions ; a flash of lightning made her 
 squeeze their hands ; a peal of thunder would drive her to em- 
 brace them ; but with the return of the calm, the princess re- 
 sumed her stiffness, her reserve, and her repulsive air, and passed 
 every one without taking the slightest notice, until a fresh storm 
 restored to her, at once, her terror and her affability. 
 
 These ladies found, in a beloved brother, whose excellent 
 qualities are known to all Frenchmen, a guide in everything 
 wanting to their education, so much neglected in infancy. In 
 their august mother, Maria Leckzinska, they possessed the noblest 
 model of every pious and social virtue : that princess, by her 
 eminent qualifications and her modest dignity, veiled the failings 
 with which, most unhappily, the King was justly reproachable; 
 and while she lived,, she preserved in the court of Louis XV.
 
 60 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 that suitable and imposing tone which alone supports the respect 
 due to power. The princesses, her daughters, were worthy of 
 her; and, if a few degraded beings did aim the shafts of ca- 
 lumny at them, these shafts dropped harmless, warded off by 
 the high idea entertained of the elevation of their sentiments, 
 and the purity of their conduct. 
 
 If the ladies had not tasked themselves with numerous occu- 
 pations, they would have been much to be pitied. They loved 
 walking, but could enjoy nothing beyond the public gardens of 
 Versailles : they would gladly have cultivated flowers, but could 
 have no others than those in their windows. 
 
 The Marchioness de Durfort, since Duchess de Civrac,* afforded 
 Madame Victoire the sweets of an amiable society. The prin- 
 cess spent almost all her evenings with that lady ; and at length 
 fancied herself one of her family. 
 
 Madame dttJNarbonne had, in a similar way, taken pains to 
 make her intimate acquaintance agreeable to Madame Adelaide. 
 
 Madame Louise had for many years lived in great seclusion : 
 I read to her five hours a day ; my voice frequently betrayed the 
 exhaustion of my lungs ; the princess would then prepare su- 
 gared water for me, place it by me, and apologize for making me 
 read HO long, on the score of having prescribed a course of read- 
 ing for herself. 
 
 One evening, while I was reading, she was informed that M. 
 Bertin, minister of the escheats, desired to speak with her : she 
 went out abruptly, returned, resumed her silks and embroidery, 
 and made me resume ruy book ; when I retired, she commanded 
 me to be in her closet the next morning at eleven o'clock. 
 When I got there, the princess was gone out ; I learned that 
 she had gone at seven in the morning to the convent of the Car- 
 melites of Saint Denis, where she was desirous of taking the 
 
 * The Duchess de Civrac, grandmother of two heroes of La Vendee, 
 Lescure and La Roche-Jaquelin, by the marriage of her eldest daughter 
 with M. d'Onissau; and of the unfortunate Labedoyere, by the mar- 
 riage of her second daughter with M. de Chastellux. 
 
 Note by Madame Campari.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 61 
 
 veil. I went to Madame Victoire. There I heard that the 
 King alone had been acquainted with Madame Louise's project; 
 that he had kept it faithfully secret, and that, having long pre- 
 viously opposed her wish, he had only on the preceding evening 
 sent her his consent; that she had gone alone into the convent, 
 where she was expected ; and that, a few minutes afterwards, she 
 had made her appearance at the grate, to show the Princess de 
 Guistel, who had accompanied her to the convent-gate, and to 
 her attendant, the King's order to leave her in the monastery. 
 
 Upon receiving the intelligence of her sister's departure, 
 Madame Adelaide gave way to violent paroxysms of rage ; and 
 reproached the King bitterly for the secrecy which he had 
 thought it his duty to preserve. Madame Victoire missed the 
 society of her favourite sister, but she only shed tears in silence 
 on her abandonment of them. The first time I saw this excel- 
 lent princess after that event, I threw myself at her feet, kissed 
 her hand, and asked her, with all the confidence of youth, whe- 
 ther she would quit us as Madame Louise had done ? She 
 raised me, embraced me, and said, pointing to the sofa upon 
 which she was extended, " Make yourself easy, my dear ; I shall 
 never have Louise's courage. I love the conveniences of life 
 too well ; this couch is my destruction." As soon as I obtained 
 permission to do so, I went to Saint Denis to see my august 
 and holy mistress; she deigned to receive me with her face 
 uncovered, in her private parlour ; she told me she had just left 
 the wash-house, and that it was her turn that day to attend to 
 the linen. " I greatly misused your youthful lungs, for two 
 years, before the execution of my project," added she : "I knew 
 that here I could read none but books tending to our salvation, 
 and I wished to review all the historians that had inte- 
 rested me." 
 
 She informed me, that the King's consent for her to go to 
 Saint Denis, had been brought to her while I was reading ; she 
 prided herself, and with reason, upon having returned to her 
 closet without the slightest mark of agitation, though she said 
 she felt so keenly, that she could scarcely regain her chair.
 
 62 .MEMOIRS OF 
 
 She added, that moralists were right, when they said that hap- 
 piness does not dwell in palaces ; that she had proved it ; and 
 that, if I desired to be happy, she advised me to come and 
 enjoy a retreat in which the liveliest imagination might find full 
 exercise in the contemplation of a better world. I had no 
 palace, no earthly grandeur to sacrifice to Grod; nothing but the 
 society of an affectionate family ; but it is precisely there, that 
 the moralists whom she cited have placed true happiness. I 
 replied, that in private life, the absence of a beloved and che- 
 rished daughter would be too cruelly felt by her family. The 
 princess said no more on the subject. 
 
 The seclusion of Madame Louise was attributed to various 
 motives : some were unkind enough to suppose it to have been 
 occasioned by her mortification at being, in point of rank, the 
 last of the princesses. I think I penetrated the true cause. 
 
 Her souL^ras lofty; she loved everything sublime; often, 
 while I wa^MpLding, she would interrupt me to exclaim, "That 
 is beautiful ithat is noble !" There was but one brilliant action 
 that sh'6> could perform to quit a palace for a cell, and rich gar- 
 ments for a frieze gown. She achieved it. 
 
 I saw Madame Louise two or three times more at the grate. 
 I was informed of her death by Louis XVI. " My aunt Louise," 
 said he to me, "your old mistress, is just dead at Saint Denis. 
 I have this moment received intelligence of it. Her piety and 
 resignation were admirable, and yet the delirium of my good 
 aunt recalled to her recollection that she was a princess, for her 
 last words were : To paradise, quick, quick, full speed. No 
 doubt she thought she was again giving orders to her groom." 4 
 
 Madame Victoire, good, sweet-tempered, and affable, lived 
 with the most amiable simplicity in a society wherein she was 
 much caressed : she was adored by her household. Without 
 quitting Versailles, without sacrificing her indolent sofa, she 
 fulfilled the duties of religion with punctuality, gave to the poor 
 
 Since Madame Cainpan relates this anecdote, we will not dispute 
 its authenticity; but it seems to agree but little with the pious senti- 
 ments and reserved manners of Louis XVI. Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 63 
 
 all that she possessed, and strictly observed lent and the fasts. 
 It is true that the table of the princesses had acquired a reputa- 
 tion for dishes of abstinence, which the assiduous parasites at 
 that of their maitre d'hotel spread abroad. Madame Victoire 
 was not indifferent to good living, but she had the most religious 
 scruples respecting dishes which it was allowable for her to eat 
 of at penitential times. I saw her one day exceedingly tor- 
 mented by her doubts about a water fowl, which was often served 
 up to her during lent. The question to be irrevocably deter- 
 mined, was, whether it was fish or flesh. She consulted a 
 bishop, who happened to be of the party : the prelate imme- 
 diately assumed a decided tone of voice, and the grave attitude of a 
 judge in the highest court of appeal. He answered the princess 
 that it had been resolved, that in a similar case of doubt, after 
 dressing the bird, it should be pricked over a very cold silver 
 dish; that if the gravy of the animal congealed within a quar- 
 ter of an hour, the creature was to be accounted flesh ; but if 
 the gravy remained in an oily state, it might b'e eaten at all 
 times without scruple. Madame Victoire immediately made the 
 experiment : the gravy did not congeal ; and this was a source of 
 great joy to the princess, who was very partial to that sort of 
 game. The abstinence which so much occupied the .attention 
 of Madame Victoire, was so disagreeable to her, that she listened 
 with impatience for the striking of the midnight hour of holy 
 Saturday ; and then she was immediately supplied with a good 
 dish of fowl and rice, and sundry other succulent viands. She 
 confessed, with such amiable candour, her taste for good cheer 
 and the comforts of life, that one must have been as severe in 
 principle as insensible to the excellent qualities of the princess, 
 to blame her for it. 
 
 Madame Adelaide had more talents than Madame Victoire ; 
 but she was altogether deficient in that kindness which alone 
 creates affection for the great : abrupt manners, a harsh voice, 
 and a short way of speaking rendered her more than imposing. 
 She carried the idea of the prerogative of rank to a high pitch. 
 
 VOL. i. 7
 
 64 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 One of her chaplains was unlucky enough to say Dominus vobis- 
 cum, with rather too easy an air : the princess rated him soundly 
 for it after mass, and told him to remember that he was not a 
 bishop, and not to think again of officiating in the style of a 
 prelate. 
 
 The ladies lived quite separate from the King. Since the 
 death of Madame de Pompadour he had lived alone. The eu3- 
 mies of the Duke de Choiseul did not know in what society, nor 
 through what channel they could prepare and bring about the 
 downfall of the man who stood in their way. The King was 
 connected only with women of so low a class, that they could 
 not be made use of for any regular intrigue; moreover the 
 parc-aux-cerfs was a seraglio the beauties of which were often 
 changed ;* it was desirable to give the King a mistress who might 
 form a circle round her, and in whose drawing-room, through 
 the power of daily insinuations, the long standing attachment 
 of the King for the Duke de Choiseul might be overcome. It 
 is true that Madame du Barry was selected from a class suffi- 
 ciently low. Her origin, her education, her habits, and every- 
 thing about her, bore a vulgar and shameful character ; but by 
 marrying her to a man who dated his nobility from 1400, it 
 was thought scandal would be avoided. The conqueror of Mahon 
 conducted this vile intrigue, j" Such a mistress was judiciously 
 
 * Details respecting the parc-aux-cerfs will be found amongst the 
 Anecdotes and Recollections. Note by the Editor. 
 
 } It appeared at this period as if every feeling of dignity was lost. 
 " Few noblemen of the French court," says a writer of the time, 
 " preserved themselves from the general corruption. The Marshal de 
 Brissac was one of the latter. He was bantered on the strictness of 
 his principles of honour and honesty ; it was thought strange that he 
 should be offended at being thought, like so many others, exposed to 
 hymeneal disgrace. Louis XV., who was present, and laughed at Us 
 angry fit, said to him : Come, M. de Brissac, don't be angry ; 'tis lut 
 a trifling evil; take courage.' ' Sire,' replied M. de Brissac, 'I possosa 
 all kinds of courage, except that which can brave shame.' " 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 66 
 
 selected for the diversion of the latter years of a man weary of 
 grandeur, fatigued with pleasure, and cloyed with voluptuous- 
 ness. Neither the wit, the talents, the graces of the Marchio- 
 ness de Pompadour, her regular beauty, nor even her love for 
 the King, would have had any further influence over that worn- 
 out being. 
 
 He wanted a Roxalana of familiar gayety, without any respect 
 for the dignity of the sovereign. Madame du Barry one day so 
 far forgot propriety, as to desire to be present at a council of 
 state : the King was weak enough to consent to it : there she 
 remained ridiculously perched up, on the arm of his chair, 
 playing off all sorts of childish monkey tricks, calculated to 
 please an old sultan. 
 
 Another time she snatched a packet of sealed letters from the 
 King's hand ; among them she had observed one from Count de 
 Broglie ; she told the King that she knew that vile Broglie spoke 
 ill of her to him, and that for that once, at least, she would 
 make sure he should read nothing respecting her. The King 
 wanted to get the packet again ; she resisted, and made him 
 run two or three times round the table, which was in the middle 
 of the council-chamber, and at length passing the fire-place, she 
 threw the letters into the grate, where they were consumed. 
 The King became furious ; he seized his audacious mistress by 
 the arm, and put her out of the door without speaking to her. 
 Madame du Barry thought herself utterly disgraced; she 
 returned home, and remained two hours, alone, abandoned to the 
 utmost distress. The King went to her : the countess, in tears, 
 threw herself at his feet, and he pardoned her. 
 
 Madame la Marechale de Beauvau, the Duchess de Choiseul, and 
 the Duchess de Grammont, had renounced the honour of the 
 King's intimate acquaintance, rather than share it with Madame 
 du Barry. But a few years after the death of Louis XV., Ma- 
 dame la Marechale, being alone at the Val, a house belonging 
 to M. de Beauvau, Mademoiselle de Dillon saw the countess's 
 calash take shelter in the forest of Saint-Germain during a vio-
 
 66 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lent storm. She invited her in, and the countess herself related 
 these particulars, which I had from Madame do Beauvau.* 
 
 The Count du Barry, surnamed le rout (the profligate) and 
 Mademoiselle du Barry advised, or rather prompted Madame du 
 Barry in furtherance of the plans of the party of the Marshal 
 de Richelieu, and the Duke d'Aiguillon. Sometimes they set 
 her to act even in such a way, as to have an useful influence upon 
 great political measures. Under pretence that the page who 
 accompanied Charles the First in his flight, was <* du Ba.rry or 
 Barrymore, they persuaded the Countess du Barry to buy in 
 London that fine portrait which we now have in the museum. 
 She had the picture placed in her drawing-room, and when she 
 saw the King hesitating upon the violent measure of breaking 
 up his parliament, and forming that which was called the Mau- 
 peou parliament, she desired him to look at the portrait of a 
 King, who had given way to his parliament. 
 
 The men f ambition who were labouring to overthrow the 
 Duke de Choiseul, strengthened themselves by their concentra- 
 tion at the house of the favourite, and succeeded in their 
 project. The bigots, who never forgave that minister the sup- 
 pression of the Jesuits, and who had always been hostile to a 
 treaty of alliance with Austria, influenced the minds of the 
 princesses. The Duke de la Vauguyon, the young dauphin's 
 "overnor, inspired him with the same prejudices. 
 
 * Chamfort relates differently, Madame du Barry's visit to the Val. 
 "Madame du Barry," says lie, "being at Vinccnnes, was curious to 
 see the Val. Madame de Beauvau was amused at the idea of going 
 there and doing the honours. She talked of what happened under 
 Louis XV. Madame du Barry was complaining of various matters, 
 which appeared to show that she was personally detested. ' By no 
 means,' said Madame de Beauvau, 'we aimed at nothing but your 
 place.' After this frank confession, Madame du Barry was asked if 
 Louis XV. did not say a great deal against her (Madame du Beauvau), 
 and Madame de Grammont. ' Oh ! a great deal.' 'Well, and what of 
 me, for instance ?' ' Of you, Madame ? That you are haughty and 
 intriguing, and that you lead your husband by the nose.' M. ae Beau- 
 vau was present. The conversation was soon changed." 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 07 
 
 Such was the state of the public mind, when the young arch- 
 duchess Marie Antoinette arrived at the court of Versailles, just 
 at the moment when the party which brought her, was about to 
 be overcome.* 
 
 Madame Adelaide openly avowed her dislike to a princess of 
 the house of Austria ; and when M. Campan went to receive his 
 orders, at the moment of setting off with the household of the 
 dauphiness, to go and receive the archduchess upon the frontiers, 
 ehe said, she disapproved of the marriage of her nephew with an 
 archduchess; and that, if she had had any order to give, it 
 would not have been to seek. 
 
 * See Historical Illustrations (A), for an account which explains the 
 strength, means, projects, and hopes of the two parties, which divided 
 the court of Louis XV. at that period. 
 
 Those historical pieces are divided into two classes Those which 
 Madame Campan herself had collected or arranged, will be marked by 
 Numbers. We shall continue to denote the documents we have col- 
 lected by capital letters. Note by the Editor.
 
 68 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 Birth of Marie Antoinette attended by a memorable Calamity A 
 Feature of Maria Theresa's Character Education of the Arch- 
 duchesses Preceptors provided for Marie Antoinette by the court 
 of Vienna Preceptor sent her by the Court of France Abb4 de 
 Vermond Change in the French Ministry Cardinal de Rohan suc- 
 ceeds Baron de Breteuil, as Ambassador at Vienna Portrait of 
 that Prelate. 
 
 MARIE-ANTOINETTE-JOSEPHE-JEANNE DE LORRAINE, Arch- 
 duchess of Austria, daughter of Francis de Lorraine and Maria 
 Theresa, was born on the 2d of November, 1755, the day of the 
 earthquake of Lisbon ; and this catastrophe, which appeared to 
 stamp the era of her birth with a fatal mark, without forming a 
 motive for superstitious fear with the princess, nevertheless made 
 an impression upon her mind. As the Empress already had a 
 great number of daughters, she ardently desired to have another 
 son, and playfully wagered against her wish with the Duke de 
 Parouka, who had insisted that she would give birth to an arch- 
 duke. He lost by the birth of the princess, and had executed 
 in porcelain a figure with one knee bent on the earth, and pre- 
 senting tablets, upon which the following verses by the cele- 
 brated Metastasio were engraved : 
 
 Io perdei : 1' augusta figlia 
 A pagar, m' a condannato ; 
 Ma s' e ver che a TOI somiglia, 
 Tutto il mondo ha guadagnato. 
 
 The Queen was fond of talking of the first years of her youth. 
 Her father, the Emperor Francis, had made a deep impression 
 upon her heart ; she lost him when she was scarcely seven years
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 69 
 
 old. One of those circumstances which fix themselves strongly 
 in the memories of children, frequently recalled his last caresses 
 to her. The Emperor was setting out for Inspruck; he had 
 already left his palace, when he ordered a gentleman to fetch 
 the archduchess Marie Antoinette, and bring her to his car- 
 riage. When she came, he stretched out his arms to receive 
 her, and said, after having pressed her to his bosom, "I wished 
 to embrace this child once more." The Emperor died suddenly 
 during the journey, and never saw his beloved daughter again. 
 
 The Queen often spoke of her mother, and with profound 
 respect, but she formed all her schemes for the education of her 
 children, by the essentials which had been neglected in her own. 
 Maria Theresa, who inspired awe by her great qualities, taught 
 the archduchesses to fear and respect rather than to love her, at 
 least I observed it in the Queen's feelings towards her august 
 mother. She therefore never desired to place between her own 
 children and herself, that distance which had existed in the im- 
 perial family. She cited a fatal consequence of it, which had 
 made upon her such a powerful impression as time had never 
 been able to efface. The wife of the Emperor Joseph II. was 
 taken from him in a few days, by an attack of small-pox of the 
 worst kind. Her coffin had recently been deposited in the vault 
 of the imperial family. The archduchess Josepha, who had 
 been betrothed to the king of Naples, at the instant she was 
 quitting Vienna, received an order from the Empress not to set 
 off without having offered up a prayer in the vault of her fore- 
 fathers. The archduchess, persuaded that she should take the 
 disorder to which her sister-in-law had just fallen a victim, 
 looked upon this order as her death-warrant. She loved the 
 young archduchess Marie Antoinette tenderly; she took her 
 upon her knees, embraced her with tears, and told her she was 
 about to leave her, not for Naples, but never to see her again ; 
 that she was then going down to the tomb of her ancestors, and 
 that she should shortly go again, there to remain. Her antici- 
 pation was realized ; a confluent small-pox carried her off in a
 
 TO MEMOIRS OF 
 
 very few days, and her youngest sister ascended the throne of 
 Naples in her place. 
 
 The Empress was too much taken up with high political in- 
 terests, to have it in her power to devote herself to maternal 
 attentions. The celebrated Van Swieten, her physician, went 
 daily to visit the young imperial family, and afterwards to 
 Maria Theresa, and gave the most minute details respecting the 
 health of the archdukes and archduchesses, whom she herself 
 sometimes did not see for eight or ten days at a time. As soon 
 as the arrival of a stranger of rank at Vienna was made known, 
 the Empress collected her family about her, admitted them to 
 her table, and by this concerted meeting induced a belief that 
 she herself presided over the education of her children. 
 
 The chief governesses being under no fear of inspection from 
 Maria Theresa, aimed at making themselves beloved by their 
 pupils, by the common and blameable practice of indulgence, so 
 fatal to the future progress and happiness of infancy. Marie An- 
 toinette was the cause of her governess being dismissed, through 
 a confession that all her copies and all her letters, were invariably 
 first traced out with pencil ; the Countess de Brandes was appointed 
 to succeed her, and fulfilled her duties with great exactness and 
 talent. The Queen looked upon her having been confided to her 
 care so late, as a misfortune, and always continued upon terms 
 of friendship with that lady. The education of Marie Antoi- 
 nette was certainly very much neglected.* The public prints, 
 however, teemed with assertions of the superior talents of Maria 
 Theresa's children. They often noticed the answers which the 
 young princesses gave in Latin to the harangues addressed to 
 them ; they uttered them, it is true, but without understanding 
 them : they knew not a single word of that language. 
 
 * With the exception of the Italian language, all that related to 
 belles lettres, and particularly to history, even that of her own country, 
 was almost entirely unknown to her. This was soon found out at the 
 court of France, and thence arose the generally received opinion, that 
 ehe was deficient in sense. It will be seen, in the course of these Me- 
 moirs, whether that opinion was well or ill founded. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 71 
 
 Mention was one day made to tho Queen, of a drawing made 
 by her, and presented by the Empress to M Gerard, chief secre- 
 tary of foreign affairs, on the occasion of his going to Vienna, to 
 draw up the articles for her marriage-contract. "I should blush," 
 said she, "if that proof of the quackery of my education were 
 shown to me. I do not believe that I ever put a pencil upon 
 that drawing." However, what had been taught her she knew 
 perfectly well. Her facility of learning was inconceivable, and 
 if all her teachers had been as well informed, and as faithful to 
 their duty as the Abb6 Metastasio, who taught her Italian, she 
 would have attained as great a proficiency in the other branches 
 of her education. The Queen spoke that language with grace 
 and ease, and translated the most difficult poets. She did not 
 write French correctly, but she spoke it with the greatest 
 fluency, and even affected to say that she had lost the German. 
 In fact, she attempted in 1787 to learn her mother-tongue, and 
 took lessons assiduously for six weeks ; she was obliged to re- 
 linquish them, finding all the difficulties which a Frenchwoman, 
 who should take up the study too late, would have to encounter. 
 In the same manner she gave up English, which I had taught 
 her for some time, and in which she had made rapid progress. 
 Music was the accomplishment in which the Queen most delighted. 
 She did not play well on any instrument, but she had become 
 able to read at sight, like a first-rate professor. She had attained 
 this degree of perfection in France, this branch of her education 
 having been neglected at Vienna, as much as the rest. A 
 few days after her arrival at Versailles, she was introduced to 
 her singing-master, La Garde, author of the opera of Egle*. She 
 made a distant appointment with him, needing, as she said, rest 
 after the fatigues of the journey, and the numerous fetes which 
 had taken place at Versailles; but the motive was, a desire to 
 conceal how ignorant she was of the rudiments of music. She 
 asked M. Campan whether his son, who was a good musician, 
 could give her lessons secretly for three months. " The dauphi- 
 ness," added she smiling, " must be careful of the reputation 
 of tne archduchess." The lessons were given privately, and at
 
 72 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the end of three months of constant application, she sent for M. 
 la Garde, and surprised him by her skill. 
 
 The desire to perfect Marie Antoinette in the study of the 
 French language, was probably the motive which determined 
 Maria Theresa to provide for her as teachers two French actors, 
 Aufresne, for pronunciation and declamation ; and one Sainville, 
 for taste in French singing; the latter had been an officer in 
 France, and bore a bad character. The choice gave just um- 
 brage to our court. The Marquis de Durfort, at that time am- 
 bassador at Vienna, was ordered to make a representation to the 
 Empress upon her selection. The two actors were dismissed, 
 and that princess required that an ecclesiastic should be sent to 
 her. It was at that period that the Duke de Choiseul was soli- 
 citous to send her a preceptor. Several eminent ecclesiastics 
 declined taking upon themselves so delicate an office ; others 
 who were pointed out by Maria Theresa (among the rest the 
 Abbe Grisel) belonged to parties which sufficed to exclude them. 
 
 The Archbishop of Toulouse, since Archbishop of Sens, one 
 day went to M. the Duke de Choiseul, at the moment when he 
 was really embarrassed upon the subject of this nomination ; he 
 proposed to him the Abbe de Vermond, librarian of the College 
 des Quatre Nations. The advantageous manner in which he 
 spoke of his protege" procured the appointment for the latter on 
 that very day j and the gratitude of the Abbe" de Vermond 
 towards the prelate was very fatal to France, inasmuch as after 
 seventeen years of persevering attempts to bring him into the 
 ministry, he succeeded at last in getting him named comptroller- 
 general and president of the council. 
 
 This Abbe de Vermond, of whom, because his powers always 
 remained in the shade, historians say but little, directed almost 
 all the Queen's actions. He had established his influence over 
 her at an age when impressions are the most durable ; and it 
 was easy to see, that he had only endeavoured to render himself 
 beloved by his pupil, and had troubled himself very little with 
 the care of instructing her. He might have even been accused 
 of having, by a sharp-sighted though culpable policy, left her
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 73 
 
 in ignorance. Marie Antoinette spoke the French language with 
 much grace, but wrote it less perfectly. The Abbe" de Vermond 
 revised all the letters which she sent to Vienna. The insup- 
 portable folly with which he boasted of it, developed the charac- 
 ter of a man more flattered at being admitted into her confidence, 
 than anxious to fulfil the high ofiice of her preceptor with pro- 
 priety. 
 
 His pride received its birth at Vienna, where Maria Theresa, 
 as much to give him authority with the archduchess, as to make 
 herself mistress of his character, permitted him to mix every 
 evening with the private circle of her family, into which the 
 future dauphiness had been admitted for some time. Joseph II., 
 the elder archduchesses, and a few noblemen honoured by the 
 confidence of Maria Theresa, composed the party ; and all that 
 could be expected from persons of exalted rank in reflections on 
 the world, on courts, and the duties of princes, were the usual 
 topics of conversation. The Abbe de Vermond, in relating these 
 particulars, confessed the means, which he had made use of to 
 gain admission into this private circle. The Empress, meeting 
 with him at the archduchess's, asked him if he had formed any 
 connections in Vienna ? " None, Madame," replied he ; " the 
 apartment of the archduchess and the hotel of the ambassador 
 of France, are the only places which the man honoured with the 
 care of the princess's education should frequent." A month 
 afterwards, Maria Theresa, through a habit common enough 
 among sovereigns, asked him the same question and received 
 precisely the same answer. The next day, he received an order 
 to be with the imperial family every evening. 
 
 It is extremely probable, from the constant and well known 
 intercourse between this man and Count Mercy, ambassador of 
 the empire during the whole reign of Louis XVI., that he was 
 useful to the court of Vienna,* and that he often caused the 
 
 * A person who had dined with the abbe* one day, at the Count de 
 Mercy's, said to that ambassador, how can you bear that tiresome 
 proser? "How can you ask it?" replied M. de Mercy ; "you could 
 answer the question yourself : it is because I want him." 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 74 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Queen to decide on measures, the consequences of which she did 
 not consider. Born in a low class of citizens,* imbued with all 
 the principles of the modern philosophy, and yet holding to the 
 hierarchy of the church more tenaciously than any other eccle- 
 siastic, vain, talkative, and, at the same time, cunning and 
 abrupt, very ugly, and affecting singularity, treating the most 
 exalted persons as his equals, sometimes even as his inferiors, 
 the Abb6 de Vermond received ministers and bishops when in 
 his bath ; but said at the same time that Cardinal Dubois was a 
 fool ; that a man such as he, having obtained power, ought to 
 make cardinals, and refuse to be one himself. 
 
 Intoxicated with the reception he had met with at the court 
 of Vienna, and having till then seen nothing of grandeur, the 
 Abb6 de Vermond admired and valued no other customs than 
 those of the imperial family ; he ridiculed the etiquette of the 
 house of Bourbon incessantly ; the young dauphiness was con- 
 stantly incited by his sarcasms to get rid of it, and it was he 
 who first induced her to suppress an infinity of practices of 
 which he could discern neither the prudence nor the political 
 aim. Such is the faithful portrait of that man, whom the 
 unlucky star of Marie Antoinette had reserved to guide her first 
 steps upon a stage, so conspicuous and so full of danger as that 
 of the court of Versailles. 
 
 It will be thought, perhaps, that I draw the character of the 
 Abbe de Vermond too unfavourably; but how can I view with 
 any complacency one, who, after having arrogated to himself the 
 office of confidant and sole counsellor of the Queen, guided her 
 with so little prudence, and caused us the mortification of seeing 
 that princess blend, with qualities which charmed all that sur- 
 rounded her, errors alike injurious to her reputation and her 
 happiness? When a man voluntarily takes upon himself 
 
 * The Abbe" de Vermond was the son of a village surgeon, and bro- 
 ther of an accoucheur, who had acted in that capacity for the Queen : 
 when he was with her majesty, in speaking to his brother, he never 
 addressed him otherwise than as Monsieur 1' Accoucheur. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 76 
 
 duties so important, complete success alone can justify his am- 
 bition. 
 
 While M. de Choiseul, satisfied with the person whom M. do 
 Brienne had presented, sent him to Vienna with every eulogium 
 calculated to inspire unbounded confidence, the Marquis de Dur- 
 fort sent off a valet de chambre, and a few French fashions ; and 
 then it was thought sufficient pains had been taken to form the 
 character of a princess destined to the throne of France. 
 
 It is universally known that the marriage of the dauphin with 
 the archduchess was determined upon during the administration 
 of the Duke de Choiseul. The Marquis de Durfort, who was to 
 succeed the Baron de Breteuil in the embassy to Vienna, was 
 appointed proxy for the marriage ceremony; but six months 
 after the dauphin's marriage, the Duke de Choiseul was dis- 
 graced and Madame de Marsan and Madame de Gue"menee, who 
 grew more powerful through the duke's disgrace, conferred that 
 embassy upon Prince Louis de Rohan, afterwards cardinal and 
 grand almoner. 
 
 Hence it will be seen, that the Gazette de France is a suffi- 
 cient answer to those ignorant libellers, who dared to assert, 
 that the young archduchess was acquainted with the Cardinal 
 de Rohan before the period of her marriage. A worse selection 
 in itself, or one more disagreeable to Maria Theresa, than that 
 which sent to her in quality of ambassador a man so light and 
 so immoral as Prince Louis de Rohan, could not have been 
 made. He possessed but superficial knowledge upon any sub- 
 ject, and was totally ignorant in diplomatic affairs. His repu- 
 tation had gone before him to Vienna, and his mission opened 
 under the most unfavourable auspices. In want -of money, and 
 the house of Rohan being unable to make him any considerable 
 advances, he obtained from his court a patent which authorized 
 him to borrow the sum of 600,000 livres upon his benefices, ran 
 in debt above a million, and thought to dazzle the city and court 
 of Vienna by the most indecent, and at the same time the most ill- 
 judged extravagance. He formed a suite of eight or ten gentle- 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 76 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 men of names sufficiently high-sounding; twelve pages equally 
 well born, a crowd of officers and servants, a company of cham- 
 ber musicians, &c. But this idle pomp did not last ; embar- 
 rassment and distress soon showed themselves ] his people no 
 longer receiving pay, abused the privileges of ambassadors in 
 order to make money, and smuggled* with so much effrontery, 
 that Maria Theresa, to put a stop to it without offending the 
 court of France, was compelled to suppress the privileges in this 
 respect of all the diplomatic bodies, a step which rendered the 
 person and conduct of Prince Louis odious in every foreign 
 court. He seldom obtained private audiences from the Empress, 
 who did not esteem him, and who expressed herself without re- 
 serve upon his conduct, both as a bishop and as an ambassador, f 
 He thought to obtain favour by assisting in the attempt to 
 effect a marriage between the archduchess Elizabeth, the elder 
 
 * I have often heard the Queen say, that in the office of the secre- 
 tary of the Prince de Rohan, there were sold in one year at Vienna, 
 more silk stockings, than at Lyons and Paris together. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 f This prelate, who was vain, light, and extravagant, had with him, 
 as counsellor and secretary to the embassy, a man of ability, adroit, 
 cunning, well-informed and industrious : he was a Jesuit. The Abbe" 
 Georgel enjoyed the full confidence of the Prince de Rohan, and deserved 
 it for his devotion and talent. A singular and romantic occurrence, 
 which he himself has related in the somewhat long but often interest- 
 ing memoirs he has left behind him, opened to him the secrets of the 
 court of Vienna. This anecdote will be found among the Illustrations : 
 it belongs to the history of an embassy, which, however Madame Cam- 
 pan may treat of it, was perhaps undignified, but was not without ad- 
 dress nor success in that kind of silent and underhand war waged by 
 diplomatists. (B). We will add to it a paper (C) worth perusal, on 
 account of the information it affords respecting the means formerly 
 employed at Vienna, London, Paris, in all courts, and particularity 
 Louis XIV., Maria Theresa, and Louis XV., for hiring intelligent spies, 
 corrupting the fidelity of clerks, detecting ciphers, and violating the 
 secrecy of letters: means disgraceful, but useful, which probity dis- 
 dains, at which governments blush, no doubt, and whioh they would do 
 Letter in not using. Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. T7 
 
 sister of Marie Antoinette, and Louis XV. ; an affair which was 
 awkwardly undertaken, and which Madame du Barry had no 
 difficulty in crushing. I have deemed it my duty to omit no 
 particular of the moral and political character of a man whose 
 existence was subsequently so fatal to the reputation of Marie 
 Antoinette.
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Arrival of the Archduchess in France Brilliant Reception of the 
 Dauphiness at Versailles She charms Louis XV. Madame du 
 Barry's jealousy Court Intrigues The Dauphin His Brothers, and 
 their Wives. 
 
 
 A SUPERB pavilion had been prepared upon the frontiers 
 
 near Kell : it consisted of a vast saloon, connected with two 
 apartments, one of which was assigned to the lords and ladies 
 of the court of Vienna, and the other to the suite of the dau- 
 phiness, composed of the Countess de Noailles, her lady of 
 honour ; the Duchess de Cosse, her tire-woman ; four ladies of 
 the bed-chamber ; the Count de Saulx-Tavannes, first gentleman 
 usher ; the Count de Tesse, first equerry ; the Bishop of Chartres, 
 chief almoner; the officers of the body-guards, and the pages. 
 
 When the dauphiness had been entirely undressed, even to 
 her body-linen and stockings, in order that she might retain 
 nothing belonging to a foreign court (an etiquette always ob- 
 served on such an occasion), the doors were opened ; the young 
 princess came forward, looking round for the Countess de Noail- 
 les ; then, rushing into her arms, she implored her, with tears 
 in her eyes, and with a heart-felt sincerity, to direct her, to ad- 
 vise her, and to be in every respect her guide and support. It 
 was impossible to refrain from admiring her aerial deportment : 
 her smile was sufficient to win the heart ; and in this enchant- 
 ing being, in whom the splendour of French gayety shone forth, 
 an indescribable but august serenity perhaps, also the some- 
 what proud position of her head and shoulders, betrayed the 
 daughter of the Caesars. 
 
 While doing justice to the virtues of the Countess de Noailles,
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 79 
 
 those sincerely attached to the Queen have always considered it 
 as one of the earliest misfortunes of the latter perhaps even 
 the greatest that she could experience on her entrance into the 
 world not to have found, in the person assigned her for an 
 adviser, an indulgent, enlightened woman, administering good 
 counsel with that sweetness which engages young persons to 
 follow it. The Countess de Noailles had nothing agreeable in 
 her appearance ; her demeanour was stiff and her mien severe. 
 She was perfect mistress of etiquette ; but she wearied the young 
 princess with it, without making her sensible of its importance. 
 So much ceremony was indeed oppressive ; but it was adopted 
 upon the expediency of presenting the young princess to the 
 French in such a manner as to command their respect; and 
 especially of guarding her by an imposing barrier against the 
 deadly shafts of calumny. It would have been proper to con- 
 vince the dauphiness, that in France her dignity depended much 
 upon customs by no means necessary at Vienna, to attract the 
 respect and love of the good and submissive Austrians towards 
 the imperial family. The dauphiness was thus perpetually tor- 
 mented by the remonstrances of the Countess de Noailles; and 
 at the same time prompted by the Abbe* de Vermond to ridicule 
 both the lessons upon etiquette, and her who gave them. She 
 preferred raillery to argument, and surnamed the Countess de 
 Noailles, Madame T Etiquette. This piece of humour gave rise 
 to a presumption that as soon as the young princess could follow 
 her own inclinations, she would free herself from these formal 
 customs.* 
 
 * The Countess de Noailles, the Queen's lady of honour, possessed 
 abundance of good qualities ; piety, charity, and irreproachable mo- 
 rals rendered her worthy of reverence ; but with all the frivolity which 
 a narrow mind could add even to the noblest qualifications, the coun- 
 tess was also abundantly provided. Etiquette was to her a kind of 
 atmosphere : at the slightest derangement of the prescribed order 
 of things, it might be imagined that she was on the point of being suf- 
 focated. The Queen required a lady of honour, who would explain to 
 her the origin of these forms ; very inconvenient, it must be confessed, 
 but invented as a fence against malevolence. The custom of having 
 
 8*
 
 80 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The entertainments which were given at Versailles, on the 
 marriage of the dauphin, were remarkably splendid. The dau- 
 phiness arrived there in time for her toilette, after having slept 
 at La Muette, where Louis XV. had been to receive her; and 
 where that prince, blinded by a feeling unworthy of a sovereign 
 and the father of a family, caused the young princess, the royal 
 family, and the ladies of the court, to sit down to supper with 
 Madame du Barry. 
 
 The dauphiness was hurt at this conduct; she spoke of it 
 openly enough to those with whom she was intimate, but she 
 knew how to conceal her dissatisfaction in public, and her 
 behaviour showed no signs of it. 
 
 She was received at Versailles in an apartment on the ground 
 floor, under that of the late Queen, which was not prepared for 
 her until six months after the day of her marriage. 
 
 The dauphiness, then fifteen years of age, beaming with 
 freshness, appeared to all eyes more than beautiful. Her walk 
 partook at once of the noble character of the princesses of her 
 house, and of the graces of the French ; her eyes were mild 
 her smile lovely. When she went to chapel, as soon as she had 
 taken the first few steps in the long gallery, she discerned, all 
 the way to its extremity, those persons whom she ought to 
 salute with the consideration due to their rank ; those on whom 
 she should bestow an inclination of the head; and lastly, 
 those who were to be satisfied with a smile, while they read in 
 
 ladies of honour, and gentlemen ushers, and that of wearing hoops of 
 three ells in circumference, were certainly invented to intrench all 
 young princesses so respectably, that the malicious gayety of the 
 French, their proneness to insinuations, and too often to calumny, 
 should not by any possibility find an opportunity to attack tkem. 
 
 The Countess de Noailles was incessantly teasing the Queen with a 
 thousand remonstrances, that she ought to have saluted this person in 
 one way, and that person in another. All Paris knew that the Queen 
 had named her Madame 1'Etiquette : according to their turn of mind, 
 some approved of this nick-name, and others condemned it ; but all 
 agreed that the young Queen was disposed to free herself from weari- 
 some ceremonies. Note by Madame Campan.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 81 
 
 her eyes a feeling of benevolence, calculated to console them 
 for not being entitled to honours. 
 
 Louis XV. was enchanted with the young dauphiness; all 
 his conversation was about her graces, her vivacity, and the 
 aptness of her repartees. She was yet more successful with 
 the royal family, when they beheld her shorn of the splendour 
 of the diamonds with which she had been adorned during the 
 earliest days of her marriage. When clothed in a light dress 
 of gauze or taffety, she was compared to the Venus di Medicis, 
 and the Atalanta of the Marly gardens. Poets sang her 
 charms, painters attempted to copy her features, AH ingenious 
 idea of one of the latter was rewarded by Louis XV. The 
 painter's fancy had led him to place the portrait of Marie 
 Antoinette in the heart of a full-blown rose. 
 
 The King continued to talk only of the dauphiness; and 
 Madame du Barry angrily endeavoured to damp his enthusiasm. 
 Whenever Marie Antoinette was the topic, she pointed out the 
 irregularity of her features, criticised the bon-mots quoted as 
 hers, and rallied the King upon his prepossession in her favour. 
 Madame du Barry was affronted at not receiving from the 
 dauphiness those attentions to which she thought herself enti- 
 tled; she did not conceal her vexation from the King; she 
 was afraid that the grace and cheerfulness of the young princess 
 would make the domestic circle of the royal family more agree- 
 able to the old sovereign, and that he would escape her chains ; 
 at the same time hatred to the Choiseul party contributed 
 powerfully to excite the enmity of the favourite. 
 
 It is known that the shameful elevation of Madame du Barry 
 was the work of the anti-Choiseul party. The fall of that 
 minister took place in November, 1770, six months after his 
 long influence in the council had brought about the alliance 
 with the house of Austria, and the arrival of Marie Antoinette 
 at the court of France. The princess, young, open, volatile, 
 and inexperienced, found herself without any other guide than 
 the Abbe" de Vermond, in a court ruled by the enemy of the 
 minister who had brought her there, and in the midst of people
 
 82 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 who hated Austria, and detested an alliance with the imperial 
 house. 
 
 The Duke d'Aiguillon, the Duke de la Vauguyon, the Mar- 
 shal de Richelieu, the Rohans, and other considerable families, 
 who had made use of Madame du Barry to overthrow the duke, 
 could not flatter themselves, notwithstanding their powerful 
 intrigues, with a hope of being able to break off an alliance 
 solemnly announced, and involving such high political interest. 
 They therefore, without abandoning their projects, changed 
 their mode of attack ; and it will be seen how well the conduct 
 of the dauphin served as a basis for their hopes. 
 
 The dauphiness continually gave proof of both sense and feel- 
 ing. Sometimes even she suffered herself to be carried away 
 by those transports of compassionate kindness, which are not to 
 be controlled, either by rank, or by the customs which it estab- 
 lishes. 
 
 In consequence of the fire in the Place Louis XV., which 
 occurred at the time of the nuptial entertainments, the dauphin 
 and dauphiness sent their whole income for the year, to the 
 relief of the unfortunate families who lost their relatives on that 
 disastrous day. 
 
 This act of generosity is in itself of the number of those 
 ostentatious kindnesses, which are dictated by the policy of 
 princes, at least, as much as by their compassion : but the grief of 
 Marie Antoinette was genuine, and lasted several days ; nothing 
 could console her for the loss of so many innocent victims ; she 
 spoke of it, weeping, to her ladies, when one of them thinking, 
 no doubt, to divert her mind, told her that a great number of 
 thieves had been found among the bodies, and that their pockets 
 were filled with watches and other valuables : " They have at 
 least been well punished," added the person who related these 
 particulars. " Oh, no ! no, madame !" replied the dauphiness, 
 "they died by the side of honest people." 
 
 In passing through Rheims, in her way to Strasburg, she
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 83 
 
 said, " That town is the one, of all Prance, which I hope not to 
 see again for a long time."* 
 
 The dauphiness had brought from Vienna a considerable 
 number of white diamonds : the King added to them the gift 
 of the diamonds and pearls of the late dauphiness, and also put 
 into her hands a collar of pearls, of a single row, the smallest 
 of which was as lai-ge as a filbert, and which had been brought 
 into France by Anne of Austria, and appropriated by that prin- 
 cess to the use of the queens and dauphinesses of France.f 
 
 The three princesses, daughters of Louis XV., joined in 
 making her magnificent presents. Madame Adelaide at the 
 same time gave the young princess a key of the private corridors 
 of the castle j by means of which, without any suite, and with- 
 out being perceived, she could get to the apartment of her 
 aunts, and see them in private. The dauphiness, on receiving 
 the key, told them, with infinite grace, that if they had meant 
 to make her appreciate the superb presents they were kind 
 enough to bestow upon her, they should not at the same time 
 have offered her one of such inestimable value ; for that to the 
 key she should be indebted for an intimacy, and advice unspeak- 
 ably precious at her age. She did, indeed, make use of it very 
 frequently ; but Madame Victoire alone permitted her, as long 
 as she continued dauphiness, to visit her familiarly. Madame 
 Adelaide could not overcome her prejudices against Austrian 
 princesses, and was wearied with the somewhat obtrusive gayety 
 of the dauphiness. Madame Victoire was concerned at this, 
 feeling that their society and counsel would have been highly 
 useful to a young person, otherwise likely to meet with none but 
 
 * The coronation of the French kings takes place in Rheims : so that 
 when she should revisit that city, it would most probably be in conse- 
 quence of the death of her father-in-law, Louis XV. 
 
 f I mention this collar thus particularly, because the Queen thought 
 it her duty, notwithstanding this appropriation, to give it up to the 
 commission of the National Assembly, when they came to strip the 
 King and Queen of the crown diamonds. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 84 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 parasites and flatterers. She endeavoured, therefore, to induce 
 her to take pleasure in the society of the Marchioness de Dur- 
 fort, her maid of honour and favourite. Several agreeable 
 entertainments took place at the house of this lady : but the 
 Countess de Noailles and the Abb6 de Vermond soon opposed 
 these meetings. 
 
 A circumstance which happened in hunting near the village 
 of Acheres, in the forest of Fontainebleau, afforded the young 
 princess an opportunity of displaying her respect for old age, 
 and her compassion for misfortune. A very old peasant was 
 wounded by the stag ; the dauphiness jumped out of her calash, 
 placed the peasant, with his wife and children, in it, had the 
 family taken back to their cottage, and bestowed upon them 
 every attention and every necessary assistance. Her heart was 
 always open to the feelings of compassion ; and, under such cir- 
 cumstances, the recollection of her rank never checked the 
 effects of her sensibility. Several persons in her service entered 
 her room, one evening, expecting to find nobody there but the 
 officer in waiting; they perceived the young princess seated by 
 the side of this man, who was considerably in years ; she had 
 placed near him a bowl full of water ; was stanching the blood 
 which issued from a wound he had received in his hand, with 
 her handkerchief which she had torn up to bind it, and was ful- 
 filling- towards him all the duties of a pious nun of the order of 
 charity. The old man, affected even to tears, out of respect 
 left his august mistress to act as she thought proper. He had 
 hurt himself in endeavouring to bring forward some rather 
 heavy piece of furniture which the princess had asked him for. 
 
 In the month of July, 1770, an unfortunate occurrence that 
 took place in a family which the dauphiness honoured with her 
 favour contributed again to show not only her sensibility but also 
 the justness of her ideas. One of her women had a son who 
 was an officer in the gensdarmes of the guard j this young man 
 thought himself affronted by a clerk in the war department, and 
 imprudently sent him a formal challenge : he killed his adver-
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 85 
 
 sary in the forest of Coinpiegne ; the family of the young man 
 who was killed, being in possession of the challenge, demanded 
 justice. The King, distressed on account of several duels which 
 had recently taken place, had unfortunately declared that he 
 would show no mercy on the first event of that kind which could 
 be proved ; the culprit was therefore arrested. His mother, in 
 all the agitation of the deepest grief, hastened to throw herself 
 at the feet of the dauphiness, the dauphin and the young prin- 
 cesses; after an hour's supplication they obtained from the 
 King the favour so much desired. On the next day a lady of 
 rank who had certainly suffered herself to be prejudiced against 
 the gen'darme's mother, while congratulating the dauphiness, 
 had the malice to add, that the mother had neglected no means 
 of success on the occasion ; that she had solicited not only the 
 royal family, but even Madame du Barry. The dauphiness re- 
 plied, that the fact justified the favourable opinion she had 
 formed of the worthy woman ; that the heart of a mother should 
 hesitate at nothing for the salvation of her son ; and that in her 
 place, if she had thought it would be serviceable, she would have 
 thrown herself at the feet of Zamora.* 
 
 Some time after the marriage entertainments, the dauphiness 
 made her entry into Paris, and was received with transports of 
 joy. After dining in the King's apartment at the Tuileries, 
 she was forced, by the reiterated shouts of the multitude, with 
 which the garden was filled, to present herself upon the balcony 
 fronting the principal walk. On seeing such a crowd of heads 
 with their eyes fixed upon her, she exclaimed, " Great God, what a 
 concourse \" " Madame," said the old Duke de Brissac, gover- 
 nor of Paris, " I may tell you, without fear of offending the 
 dauphin, that they are so many lovers." j" The dauphin took no 
 
 * A little Indian, who carried the Countess du Barry's train. Louis 
 XV. often amused himself with the little marmoset ; having facetiously 
 made him governor of Luciennes, he received an annual income of 
 5000 francs. Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 f John Paul Timoleon de Cosse, Duke de Brissac and a Marshal of 
 France, the same who made the noble reply cited in our note at page
 
 86 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 umbrage at either acclamations or marks of homage of which the 
 dauphiness was the object. The most mortifying indifference, a 
 coldness which frequently degenerated into rudeness, were the 
 sole feelings which the young prince then manifested towards 
 her. Not all her charms could gain even upon his senses; he 
 threw himself, as a matter of duty, upon the bed of the dauphi- 
 ness, and often fell asleep without saying a single word to her. 
 This distance, which lasted a long time, was said to be the work 
 of the Duke de la Vauguyon. The dauphiness, in fact, had no 
 sincere friends at court, except the Duke de Choiseul and his 
 party. Will it be credited that the plans laid against Marie 
 Antoinette, went so far as to aim at a divorce ? I have been 
 assured of it by persons holding high situations at court, and 
 many circumstances tend to confirm the opinion. On the jour- 
 ney to Fontainebleau, in the year of the marriage, the inspectors 
 of public buildings were gained over to manage so that the apart- 
 ment intended for the dauphin, communicating with that of the 
 dauphiness, should not be finished ; and a temporary apartment 
 at the extremity of the building was assigned to him. The 
 dauphiness, aware that this was the result of intrigue, had the 
 courage to complain of it to Louis XV., who, after severe repri- 
 mands, gave orders so positive, that within the week the apart- 
 ment was ready. Every method was tried to continue and 
 augment the indifference which the dauphin long manifested to- 
 wards his youthful spouse. She was deeply hurt at it, but she 
 never suffered herself to utter the slightest complaint on the 
 subject. The dauphin's indifference to, nay, his contempt for 
 the charms which she heard extolled on all sides, never induced 
 her to break silence ; and occasional tears, which would invo- 
 luntarily burst from her eyes, were the sole symptoms of her 
 inward sufferings, discoverable by those in her service. 
 
 64 of this volume. At the courts of Louis XV. and XVI. he was a 
 model of the virtue, gallantry, and courage of the ancient knights. 
 Count de Charolais, finding him one day with his mistress, said to him 
 abruptly, "Go out, sir." " My lord," replied the Duke de Brissac, 
 with emphasis, "your ancestors would have said, 'come out.' " 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 87 
 
 Once only, when tired out with the misplaced remonstrances 
 of an old maid attached to her person, who wished to dissuade 
 her from riding on horseback, under the impression that it would 
 prevent her producing heirs to the crown : " Mademoiselle/' said 
 she, " in God's name do not teaze me ; be assured that I am 
 putting no heir in danger." 
 
 I thought it my duty to portray, early in these Memoirs, the 
 obscure, though ambitious man, who guided Marie Antoinette 
 from her infancy down to the fatal epoch of the revolution. 
 
 I have given the character of the daupliiness's maid of 
 honour; I have noticed some particulars of the prejudice of 
 Madame Adelaide, the eldest daughter of Louis XV., against the 
 house of Austria; I have spoken __ of the great kindness of the 
 second princess, Madame Victoire, and of her affection for Marie 
 Antoinette ; and lastly, I have sketched the character of Madame 
 Sophie, the King's third daughter, who did not afford to her 
 niece, even to the extent which her sisters did, the useful 
 resources of society. 
 
 The dauphiness found at the court of Louis XV., besides the 
 three princesses the King's daughters, the princes, also, brothers 
 of the dauphin, who were receiving their education; and the 
 ladies Clotilde and Elizabeth, still in the care of Madame de 
 Marsan, governess of the children of France. The eldest of the 
 two latter princesses, in 1777, married the Prince of Piedmont, 
 afterwards king of Sardinia. This princess was in her infancy 
 so extremely fat, that the people nick-named her gros Madame.* 
 
 * Madame Clotilde of France, a sister of the King, was in fact ex- 
 traordinarily fat for her height and age. One of her play-fellows, 
 having been indiscreet enough even in her presence to make use of the 
 nick-name given to her, immediately received a severe reprimand from 
 the Countess de Marsan, who hinted to her that she would do well in 
 not making her appearance again before the princess. Madame Clo- 
 tilde sent for her the next day : " My governess," said she, " has done 
 her duty, and I will do mine ; come and see us as usual, and think no 
 more of a piece of inadvertency, which I myself have forgotten." 
 
 This princess, so encumbered with body, possessed the most agreea- 
 ble and playful wit. Her affability and prepossessing grace rendered 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 88 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The second princess was the pious Elizabeth, the victim of her 
 respect and tender attachment for the King her brother, and 
 whose exalted virtues deserved a celestial crown.* She was still 
 Bcarcely out of her leading-strings at the period of the dauphin's 
 marriage. The dauphiness gave her a marked preference. The 
 governess, who sought to advance that one of the two princesses, 
 to whom nature had been least favourable, was offended at the 
 dauphiness' s partiality for Madame Elizabeth; and, by her in- 
 judicious complaints, weakened the friendship which yet sub- 
 sisted between M&dame Clotilde and Marie Antoinette. There 
 even arose some degree of rivalship upon the subject of educa- 
 
 her dear to all who came near her. A certain poet, whose mind was 
 solely occupied with the prodigious size of Madame Clotilde, when it 
 was determined that she should marry the Prince of Piedmont, com- 
 posed the following stanza. 
 
 To understand the humour, or rather the meaning of it, it must be 
 remembered that two princesses of Savoy had just married two French 
 princes. 
 
 Though we've only return'd one princess for the two, 
 
 Who from Piedmont were sent us of late ; 
 Yet surely no question or wrong can ensue, 
 Since the bargain's made up by her weight. 
 
 Note by the Editor. 
 
 * Elizabeth Phillipine Marie Helene of France, was born at Versailles, 
 on the 3d of May, 1764. " Madame Elizabeth," says M. de la Salle, 
 the author of a biographical article upon this interesting and unfortunate 
 princess, "had not, like Madame Clotilde, her sister, received from 
 nature that softness and flexibility of character which renders the 
 practice of virtue easy ; she evinced more than one mark of resemblance 
 to the Duke of Burgundy, the pupil of Fenelon. Education and piety 
 operated upon her as they did upon that prince : good precepts, and 
 the examples which surrounded her, adorned her with all good quali- 
 ties, with all virtues, and left her nothing of her original inclinations, 
 but amiable sensibility, lively impressions, and a firmness which seemed 
 formed to meet the dreadful trials for which heaven reserved her." 
 
 We shall have occasion more than once in the course of these Me- 
 moirs, and the whole of this collection, to observe her constant friend- 
 ship, her affecting resignation, her sublime self-devotion, and her 
 angelic sweetness, to the very moment in which she manifested the 
 calm and heroic courage of a martyr. Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 89 
 
 tion ; and that which the Empress Maria Theresa had bestowed 
 upon her daughters, was talked of openly and unfavourably 
 enough. The Abbe de Vermond thought himself affronted, took 
 a part in the quarrel, and added his complaints and jokes to those 
 of the dauphiness, upon the criticisms of the governess ; he even 
 indulged himself, in his turn, in reflections upon the tuition of 
 Madame Clotilde. Everything transpires at court. Madame de 
 Marsan was informed of all that had been said in the dauphi- 
 ness's circle, and was very angry with her on account of it. From 
 that moment, a party of intrigue, or rather of gossip, against 
 Marie Antoinette, was established round Madame de Marsan's 
 fireside ; her most trifling actions were there construed into ill ; 
 her gayety, and the harmless amusements in which she some- 
 times indulged in her own apartments, with the more youthful 
 ladies of her train, and even with the women in her service, 
 were stigmatized as criminal. Prince Louis de Rohan, sent 
 ambassador to Vienna by this society, was there the echo of 
 these unmerited comments, and entangled himself in a series of 
 culpable accusations, which he dignified with the name of zeal. 
 He incessantly represented the young dauphiness as alienating 
 all hearts, by levities unsuitable to the dignity of the French 
 court. The princess frequently received from the court of 
 Vienna, remonstrances, of the origin of which she could not 
 long remain in ignorance. From this period, the aversion which 
 she never ceased to manifest for the Prince de Rohan, must 
 be dated. 
 
 About the same time the dauphiness gained information of a 
 letter written by Prince Louis to the Duke d'Aiguillon, in 
 which the ambassador expressed himself in very unbecoming 
 terms respecting the intentions of Maria Theresa, with relation 
 to the partition of Poland. This letter of Prince Louis had 
 been read at the Countess du Barry's; the levity of the ambas- 
 sador's correspondence wounded the feelings and the dignity of 
 the dauphiness at Versailles, while at Vienna the representa 
 tions which he made to Maria Theresa against the young prin-
 
 90 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cess, terminated in rendering the motives of his incessant 
 complaints suspected by the Empress. 
 
 Maria Theresa, at length, determined on sending her private 
 secretary, Baron de Neni, to Versailles, with directions to observe 
 the conduct of the dauphiness with attention, and form a just 
 estimate of the opinion of the court, and of Paris, with regard 
 to that princess. The Baron de Neni, after having devoted suf- 
 ficient time and attention to the subject, undeceived his sove- 
 reign as to the exaggerations of the French ambassador; and 
 the Empress had no difficulty in detecting, among the calumnies 
 which his effrontery had conveyed to her, under the specious 
 name of anxiety for her august daughter, proofs of the enmity 
 of a party which had never approved of the alliance of the house 
 of Bourbon with her own.* 
 
 * The Empress Maria Theresa knew very well which of the persons 
 who composed the court of Louis XV. were favourable, and which un- 
 favourable, to Marie Antoinette. It is said, that at the moment of 
 that princess's departure for France, the Empress gave her the follow- 
 ing note in her own handwriting : 
 
 List of persons of my acquaintance. 
 
 The Duke and Duchess de Choiseul. 
 
 The Duke and Duchess de Praslin. 
 
 Hautefort. 
 
 The Du Chatelets. 
 
 D'Estre"es. 
 
 D'Aubeterre. 
 
 Count de Broglie. 
 
 The brothers De Montazet. 
 
 M. d'Aumont. 
 
 M. Gerard. 
 
 M. Blondel. 
 
 La Beauvau, a nun. 
 
 Her companion. 
 
 The Durforts. 
 
 To this last family you will take every opportunity of showing grati- 
 tude and attention. 
 
 The same to the Abbe" de Vermond : I have the welfare of these per- 
 sons at heart. My ambassador has orders to promote it. I shall be 
 Borry to be the first to violate my own principle, which is to recommend
 
 I 
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 91 
 
 .It .(M.3 period, the dauphiness, still unable to obtain any in- 
 fluonee over the heart of her husband, dreading Louis XV. , 
 justly imstrojst.'ng everything connected with Madame d'u Barry 
 and the Duke d'.&iguillon, had not deserved the slightest reproach 
 as to that sort of levity which hatred and her misfortunes after- 
 wards construed itto crime. The Empress, convinced of the 
 innocence of Marie Antoinette, directed the Baron de Neni to 
 solicit the recall of the Prince de Rohan, and to inform the minis- 
 ter for foreign affairs of all the motives which made her require 
 it ; but the hcruse of Rohan interposed between its protege and 
 the Austrian $nvoy, and an evasive answer merely was given. 
 
 It was not until two months after the death of Louis XV., 
 that the court of Vienna obtained his recall. The avowed 
 grounds for requiring it, were first, the public gallantries of 
 Prince Louis with women of the court and others of less distinc- 
 tion; secondly, his surliness and haughtiness towards other 
 
 nobody ; but you and I owe too much to these persons, not to seek all 
 opportunities of being serviceable to them, if we can do it without too 
 much impegno. 
 
 Consult with Mercy. I recommend to you in general all the Lorrains 
 in whatever you can do for them." 1 
 
 a Some details relative to this list will be found in the Historical Illustrations 
 (letter D.) 
 
 The existence of this list is not an impossibility. A curious fact related by the 
 Abbe Georgel, in his Memoirs, makes it likely: but it must not be forgotten that 
 Georgel, notwithstanding his apparent moderation, was one of the most dangerous 
 enemies of Marie Antoinette. Of this we warn the reader. 
 
 Goorgel, the secretary of the French embassy in Austria, obtained, by means of a 
 mysterious unknown person, as may be observed in reading note (B), the most 
 important secrets of the court of Vienna 
 
 " The masked man," says he, " one day placed in my hands two papers of secret 
 instructions sent to Count de Mercy, for him to give personally to the Queen. The 
 first for the King's inspection; the second for the Queen alone. The latter con- 
 tained advice as to the method to be adopted for compensating for the King's inex- 
 perience, and for profiting by the facility of his character, to influence the government 
 without appearing to interfere in it. The political lesson was given to Marie 
 Antoinette with much art ; she was led to feel that it wus the surest way to render 
 herself beloved by the French, whose happiness she might thereby secure; and at 
 the same time cement the union of the two houses of Austria and Bourbon." 
 
 What Georgel insinuates is obvious, and if the court of Vienna be skilful in ustruc- 
 tion, so is the abbe, in his hatred. Note by the Editor. 
 
 9*
 
 * 
 
 92 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 foreign ministers, which would have had more serious conse- 
 quences, especially with the ministers of England and Denmark, 
 if the Empress herself had not interfered ; thirdly, his contempt 
 for religion in a country where it was particularly necessary to 
 show respect for it (he had been seen frequently to dress him- 
 self in clothes of different colours, assuming the hunting uni- 
 forms of various noblemen whom he visited, with so much pub- 
 licity, that one day in particular, during the FSte Dieu, he and 
 all his legation in green uniforms, laced with gold, broke through 
 a procession which impeded them, in order to make their way to 
 a hunting party at the Prince de Paar's) ; and fourthly, the im- 
 mense debts contracted by him and his people, which were tar- 
 dily and only in part discharged.* 
 
 The succeeding marriages of the Count de Provence and Count 
 d'Artois, with two daughters of the King of Sardinia, increas- 
 ing the number of princesses of the same age as Marie Antoi- 
 nette's at Versailles, procured society for the dauphiness more 
 suitable to her age, and altered her mode of life. A pair of 
 tolerably fine eyes obtained for the Countess de Provence, upon 
 her arrival at Versailles, the only praises which could reasonably 
 be bestowed upon her. 
 
 The Countess d'Artois, though not deformed, was very small; 
 she had a fine complexion ; her face, tolerably pleasing, was not 
 remarkable for anything except the extreme length of her nose. 
 But being good and generous, she was beloved by those about 
 her, and even possessed some weight, as long as she was the only 
 one who had produced heirs to the crown."}" 
 
 * See (Historical Illustrations, letter E) the details given by the Abbe* 
 George!, secretary to the embassy to Vienna, on the recall of the car- 
 dinal. Note by the Editor. 
 
 } "Madame d'Artois," says a work of that period, "has made her 
 entry into Paris. The equipages were superb, and as tasteful as rich ; 
 she went, according to custom, to return thanks in the church of Saint 
 Genevieve. The princess possesses a highly interesting physiognomy, 
 and her skin is extremely fair. She was beheld with that pleasure 
 which arises from feeling ; on her side she appeared affected by the 
 applause lavished upon her." (Secret Correspondence of the Court.) 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 9S 
 
 From this time the closest intimacy subsisted between the 
 three young families. They took their meals together, except 
 only on those days when they dined in public. This manner of 
 living en famine continued until the Queen sometimes indulged 
 herself in going to dine with the Duchess de Polignac, when she 
 was governess ; but the evening meetings at supper were never 
 interrupted; they took place at the house of the Countess de 
 Provence. Madame Elizabeth made one of the party when she 
 had finished her education, and sometimes mesdames, the King's 
 aunts, were invited. This custom, which had no precedent at 
 court, was the work of Marie Antoinette, and she maintained it 
 with the utmost perseverance. 
 
 The court of Versailles saw no change in point of etiquette 
 during the reign of Louis XV. Play took place at the house of 
 the dauphiness, as being the first female of the state. It had, 
 from the death of Queen Maria Leckzinska to the marriage of 
 the dauphin, been held at the abode of Madame Adelaide. This 
 removal, the result of an order of precedence not to be violated, 
 was not the less displeasing to Madame Adelaide, who estab- 
 lished a separate party for play in her apartments, and scarcely 
 ever went to that which not only the court in general, but also 
 the royal family, were expected to attend. The full-dress visits 
 to the King on his debotter were still continued. High mass 
 was attended daily. The airings of the princesses were nothing 
 more than rapid races in berlins, during which they were accom- 
 panied by body-guards, gentlemen ushers, and pages on horse- 
 back. They generally gallopped some leagues from Versailles. 
 Calashes were used only in hunting. 
 
 The young princesses were desirous to infuse animation into 
 their circle of associates, by something useful as well as plea- 
 sant. They agreed to learn and perform all the best plays of 
 the French theatre ; the dauphin was the only spectator ; the 
 three princesses, the two brothers of the King, and Messrs. 
 Campan, father and son, were the sole performers; but they 
 made it of the utmost importance to keep this amusement as 
 secret as an affair of state : they dreaded the censure of the
 
 94 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 King's aunts ; and they had no doubt that Louis XV. would 
 forbid such pastimes, if he knew of their existence. They 
 selected a retired room, which nobody had occasion to enter, for 
 their performance. A kind of proscenium, which could be 
 taken down, and shut up in a closet, formed the stage. The 
 Count de Provence always knew his part provokingly well ; the 
 Count d'Artois knew his tolerably well, and recited elegantly : 
 the princesses performed very indifferently. The dauphiness 
 acquitted herself in some characters with discrimination and 
 feeling. The chief pleasure of this amusement consisted in 
 their having all the costumes elegant and accurate. The dau- 
 phin entered into the spirit of the diversions of the young 
 family, laughed heartily at the comic characters as they came 
 on the scene, and from these amusements may be dated his dis- 
 continuance of the timid manner of his youth, and his taking 
 pleasure in the society of the dauphiness. 
 
 A wish to extend the list of pieces for performance, and the 
 certainty that these diversions would remain secret, had pro- 
 cured my father-in-law and my husband the honour of figuring 
 among the princes. 
 
 It was not till a long time afterwards that I learned these 
 particulars, M. Campan having kept the secret ; but an unfore- 
 seen event had well nigh exposed the whole mystery. One day, 
 the Queen desired M. Campan to go down into her closet to 
 fetch something that she had forgotten ; he was dressed for the 
 character of Crispin, and was rouged ; a private staircase led 
 direct to the theatre through the dressing-room. M. Campan 
 fancied he heard some noise, and remained still behind the door, 
 which was shut. A servant belonging to the wardrobe, who 
 was, in fact, on the staircase, had also heard some noise; and, 
 either from fear or curiosity, he suddenly opened the door ; the 
 figure of Crispin frightened him so, that he fell down back- 
 wards, shouting with all his might, " Help ! help !" My 
 father-in-law raised him up, made him recognise his voice, and 
 laid an injunction of silence as to what he had seen, upon him. 
 He felt himself, however, bound to inform the dauphiness of
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 95 
 
 what had happened ; and she was fearful that another similar 
 occurrence might betray their amusements : they were therefore 
 discontinued. 
 
 The princess occupied her time in her own apartment, in the 
 study of music and the parts in plays which she had to learn; 
 the latter exercise at least produced the beneficial effect of 
 strengthening her memory and familiarizing her with the 
 French language. 
 
 The Abbe de Vermond visited her daily, but took care to 
 avoid the imposing tone of a governor ; and would not, even as 
 reader, recommend the study of history. I believe he never 
 read a single volume of history in his life to his august pupil ; 
 and, in truth, there never existed a princess who manifested a 
 more marked aversion for all serious study. 
 
 While Louis XV. reigned, the enemies of Marie Antoinette 
 made no attempt to change public opinion with regard to her. 
 She was always the object of the wishes and love of the French 
 people in general, and particularly of the inhabitants of Paris, 
 who, being deprived of the pleasure of possessing her within 
 their city, went, at all opportunities, to Versailles the majority 
 of them attracted solely by the pleasure of seeing her. The 
 courtiers did not fully enter into the truly popular enthusiasm 
 which the dauphiness had inspired : the disgrace of the Duke 
 de Choiseul had removed her real support from her; and the 
 party which had continued in power since the exile of that 
 minister, was, politically, as much opposed to her family as to 
 herself. The dauphiness was, therefore, surrounded by enemies 
 at Versailles. 
 
 Nevertheless, everybody appeared outwardly desirous to please 
 her : the age of Louis XV., and the character of the dauphin, 
 were sufficient to warn the long-sighted sagacity of the courtiers, 
 of the important part reserved for the princess under the 
 following reign, in case the dauphin should become attached 
 to her.
 
 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Death of Louis XV. Picture of the Court Madame Du Barry dis- 
 missed Departure of the Court to Choisy M. de Maurepas Minister 
 Influence of Example upon the Courtiers Enthusiasm raised by 
 the new Reign Mourning at La Muette The Queen The King and 
 the Princes, his brothers, are inoculated Stay at Marly Calumnies 
 against the Queen Boehmer, the jeweller Mademoiselle Bertia 
 Changes of fashion Simplicity of the Court of Vienna Extreme 
 temperance, decorum and modesty of Marie Antoinette. 
 
 ABOUT the beginning of May, 1774, Louis XV., the strength 
 of whose constitution had promised a protracted life, was 
 attacked by a confluent small-pox, of the worst kind. The 
 King's daughters, at this juncture, inspired the dauphiness with 
 a feeling of respect and attachment, of which she gave them 
 repeated proofs when she ascended the throne. In fact, nothing 
 could be more admirable or more affecting than the courage 
 with which they braved that most horrible disease : the air of 
 the palace was infected ; more than fifty persons took the small- 
 pox, in consequence of having merely crossed the gallery of 
 Versailles; and ten died of it. 
 
 The end of the monarch was approaching. His reign, peace- 
 ful in general, had preserved a degree of strength imparted to 
 it by the power of his predecessor : on the other hand, his own 
 weakness had been preparing misfortunes for the prince who 
 was to reign after him. The scene was about to change ; hope, 
 ambition, joy, grief, and all those feelings which variously 
 affected the hearts of the courtiers, sought in vain to disguise 
 themselves under a calm exterior. It was easy to detect the 
 different motives which induced them all, every moment, to
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 97 
 
 repeat the question, " How is the King ?" At length, on the 
 10th of May, 1774, the mortal career of Louis XV. terminated.* 
 
 The Countess du Barry had, a few days previously, withdrawn 
 to Ruelle, to the Duke d'Aiguillon's : fourteen or fifteen persons 
 belonging to the court, thought it their duty to visit her there ; 
 their liveries were observed ; and these visits became for a long 
 time grounds for dislike. More than six years after the King's 
 death, one of those persons being spoken of, in the circle of the 
 royal family, I heard it remarked, " That was one of the fifteen 
 Ruelle carriages." 
 
 The whole court went to the castle ; the bull's eye was filled 
 with courtiers, and the whole palace with the inquisitive. The 
 dauphin had settled that he would leave it with the royal family, 
 the moment the King should breathe his last sigh. But upon 
 such an occasion, decency forbade that positive orders for de- 
 parture should be passed from mouth to mouth. The keepers 
 of the stables, therefore, agreed with the people who were in the 
 King's room, that the latter should place a lighted taper near a 
 
 * As soon as Louis XV. knew what was his disorder, he despaired 
 of recovery. "I do not intend," said he, "that the scenes of Metz 
 should be repeated :" and he ordered that Madame du Barry should be 
 sent away. But the friends of the favourite had not yet given up the 
 game. The two parties which divided the court, attacked each other 
 warmly at the foot of the bed whereon Louis XV. was extended. They 
 fought, it may be said, for the last sighs and doubtful commands of a 
 dying man. Louis XV. had religious duties to perform. The moment 
 for them, which one party was anxious to hasten, and the other had an 
 interest in delaying, occasioned the most scandalous scenes. What the 
 Abbe" Soulavie says on this subject, is doubtless not wholly true. For 
 instance, it is difficult to attribute to the rigid Christophe de Beaumont 
 any other motives than his strict principles, fervent piety, and the con- 
 sciousness of the sacred obligations which he had to discharge. But, 
 on the other hand, all is not false ; and it is not to be doubted, that 
 Soulavie has related a considerable number of particulars correctly, 
 when we compare his narrative, which we give in Historical Illustra- 
 tions, letter (F), with the picture of the same occurrences, drawn by 
 Baron de Besenval, in his Memoirs. Note by the Editor.
 
 98 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 window, and that at the instant of the King's decease, one of them 
 should extinguish it. 
 
 The taper was extinguished. On this signal, the body-guards, 
 pages, and equerries, mounted on horseback, and all was ready 
 for setting off. The dauphin was with the dauphiness. They 
 were expecting together the intelligence of the death of Louis 
 XV. A dreadful noise, absolutely like thunder, was heard in 
 the outer apartment : it was the crowd of courtiers who were 
 deserting the dead sovereign's anti-chamber, to come and bow to 
 the new power of Louis XVI. This extraordinary tumult in- 
 formed Marie Antoinette and her husband that they were to 
 reign ; and, by a spontaneous movement, which deeply affected 
 those around them, they threw themselves on their knees ; and 
 both pouring forth a flood of tears, exclaimed, " God ! guide 
 us, protect us, we are too young to govern." 
 
 The Countess de Noailles entered, and was the first to salute 
 Marie Antoinette as Queen of France. She requested their ma- 
 jesties would condescend to quit the inner apartments for the 
 grand saloon, to receive the princes and all the great officers, 
 who were desirous to do homage to their new sovereigns. Marie 
 Antoinette received these first visits leaning upon her husband, 
 her handkerchief held to her eyes, and in the most affecting 
 attitude : the carriages drove up, the guards and officers were 
 on horseback. The castle was deserted every one hastened to 
 fly from a contagion, to brave which no inducement now re- 
 mained. 
 
 On leaving the chamber of Louis XV., the Duke de Ville- 
 quier, first 'gentleman of the bed-chamber, ordered M. Andouillc", 
 the King's chief surgeon, to open the body and embalm it. The 
 chief surgeon must necessarily have died in consequence. " I 
 am ready," replied Andouille ; " but while I operate, you shall 
 hold the head : your office imposes this duty upon you." The 
 duke went off without saying a word, and the corpse was neither 
 opened nor embalmed. A few under-servants and poor women 
 continued with the pestiferous remains, and paid the last duty
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 99 
 
 to their master : the surgeons directed that spirits of wine should 
 be poured into the coffin. 
 
 The whole of the Court set off for Choisy, at four o'clock ; 
 mesdames, the King's aunts, in their private carriage ; and the 
 princesses under tuition with the Countess de Marsan, and their 
 sub-governesses. The King, the Queen, Monsieur the King's 
 brother, Madame, and the Count and Countess d'Artois, went in 
 the same carriage. The solemn scene that had just passed be- 
 fore their eyes the multiplied ideas offered to their imagina- 
 tions, by that which was just opening, had naturally inclined 
 them to grief and reflection : but by the Queen's own confession, 
 this impression, little suited to their time of life, wholly left 
 them before they had gone half of their journey : a word, oddly 
 pronounced by the Countess d'Artois, occasioned a general burst 
 of laughter and from that moment they dried their tears. The 
 intercourse between Choisy and Paris became astonishing : never 
 was a court seen in greater agitation. What influence will the 
 royal aunts have ? And the Queen ? What fate is reserved 
 for the Countess du Barry ? Whom will the young King choose 
 for his ministers ? All these questions were answered in a few 
 days. It was determined that the King's youth required him to 
 have a confidential person near him ; and that there should be a 
 prime minister. All eyes were turned upon Messrs, de Machault 
 and De Maurepas, both of them much advanced in years. The 
 first had retired to his estate, near Paris ; and the second to 
 Pont Chartrain, to which place he had long been exiled. The 
 letter summoning M. de Machault was already written, when 
 Madame Adelaide obtained that important appointment for M. 
 de Maurepas in preference. The page to whose care the first 
 letter had been actually consigned, was recalled.* 
 
 * This fact has been doubted : but I can assure the reader, that 
 Louis XVI. desired M. Campan to recall the page, whom he found ready 
 to mount his horse, and whom he desired to come back again to return 
 the letter to the King himself; and that the Queeu said to my father- 
 in-law: "If the letter had gone, M. de Machault would have been 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 100 MEMOlfeS OF 
 
 The Duke d'Aiguillon had been too openly known as the pri- 
 vate friend of the King's mistress; he was dismissed. M. de 
 Vergennes, at that time ambassador of France, at Stockholm, 
 was appointed minister for foreign affairs ; Count du Muy, the 
 intimate friend of the dauphin the father of Louis XVI., ob- 
 tained the war department. The Abb6 Terray in vain said, and 
 wrote, that he had boldly done all possible injury to the credi- 
 tors of the state during the reign of the late King; that order 
 was restored in the finances, and that nothing but good remained 
 to be done; and that the new court was about to enjoy the 
 advantages of the regenerating part of his plan of finance : all 
 these reasons, set forth in five or six memorials, which he sent 
 in succession to the King and Queen, did not prevail to keep 
 him in office. His talents were admitted ; but the odium which 
 his operations had unavoidably brought upon his character, 
 combined with the immorality of his private life, forbade his 
 further stay at court : he was succeeded by M. de Clugny.* 
 
 prime minister : for the King would never have consented to write a 
 second letter, in contradiction of his first intention." a 
 
 Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 * We find in a work of the times, an anecdote upon the subject of the 
 appointment of M. de Clugny, which we give without disputing it, though 
 without taking upon ourselves to vouch for its veracity. " Speculators 
 imagine they perceive in M. de Clugny's elevation, the dawn of success 
 for that party, which is endeavouring to restore M. de Choiseul to the 
 administration. It seems, however, that the efforts of the party will be 
 
 a If we may credit a contemporary writer, the Abbe de Radonvilliers was not with- 
 out influence in this latter determination. The secret motives which prompted the 
 King's old preceptor may be seen in Historical Illustrations, letter (G). Chamfort 
 telates the following anecdote upon the subject of the nomination of the Count de 
 Maurepas: 
 
 "It is a known fact, that the King's letter, sent to M. de Maurepas, was written 
 for M. de Machault. "What particular interest changed this disposition is known ; 
 but that which is not known, is, that M. de Maurepas stole, as it were, the place 
 which it is supposed was offered to him. The King wished only to converse with 
 him. At the end of the conversation, M. de Maurepas said to him : ' I will detail my 
 ideas to-morrow at the council.' It is related, too, that at this conversation, he said 
 to the King, 'Your majesty then nrikes me prime minister?' 'No,' replied the King, 
 I have no such intention. 1 'I understand,' said M. de Maurepas; 'your majesty 
 wisher I should teach you to do without one.' " Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 101 
 
 De Maupeou, the chancellor, was banished ; this gave universal 
 satisfaction; lastly, the reassembling of the parliaments pro- 
 duced the strongest sensation : Paris was in a delirium of joy, 
 and not more than one person in a hundred foresaw, that the 
 spirit of the ancient magistracy would be still the same ; and 
 that in a short time it would make new attempts upon the royal 
 authority. Madame du Barry had been ordered to retire to 
 Pont-aux-dames. This was a measure rather of necessity, than 
 of severity : a short period of compulsory retreat was requisite, 
 in order to break off her connection with state affairs com- 
 pletely. 
 
 The possession of Luciennes, and a considerable pension, were 
 continued to her.* Everybody expected the recall of M. de 
 
 unavailing. M. de Maurepas, "who is informed of all that passes, has 
 concerted with the King, a plan for discovering the mainspring of the 
 intrigue carrying on for the purpose of effecting his downfall. He 
 went to Pont Chartrain, after forewarning the monarch of all the steps 
 towards that object, which might be taken in his absence. Twice a 
 day did the Mentor receive a courier from his master, who informed 
 him of all that was done and said with the intention before alluded to. 
 One day the King apprised him, that an English newspaper had been 
 brought to him, in which it was said, that if the Duke de Choiseul were 
 named prime minister, as it appeared he would be, France would be- 
 come more powerful alone, than all the powers of Europe combined. 
 On the day of M. de Maurepas's return, the King said before the whole 
 court, ' I understand that M. de Choiseul is in Paris ; why is he not at 
 Chanteloup ? For any man who is fortunate enough to possess an estate, 
 this is the season for enjoying it.' All the duke's friends were dumb, 
 and the next day he himself left Paris." (Secret Correspondence of the 
 Court, v. 3, p. 10). Note by the Editor. 
 
 * The Countess du Barry never forgot the mild treatment she experi- 
 enced from the court of Louis XVI. ; during the most violent convul- 
 sion of the revolution, she signified to the Queen that there was not in 
 all France a female more grieved at the sufferings of her sovereign, 
 than herself; that the honour she had for years enjoyed, of living near 
 the throne, and the unbounded kindness of the King and Queen, had 
 so sincerely attached her to the cause of royalty, that she entreated 
 the Queen to honour her by disposing of all she possessed. Though 
 they did not accept her offer, their majesties were affected at her gra-
 
 102 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Choiseul; the regret occasioned by his absence among the 
 numerous friends whom he had left at court, the attachment of 
 a youttg princess, who was indebted to him for her elevation to 
 the throne of France, and all concurring circumstances, seemed 
 to foretell his return : the Queen entreated it of the King with 
 the liveliest importunities, but she met with an insurmountable 
 obstacle, and one which she had not foreseen. The King, it is 
 said, had imbibed the strongest prejudices against that minis- 
 ter,* from secret memoirs penned by his father, and which had 
 been committed to the care of the Duke de la Vauguyon, with 
 an injunction to place them in his hands as soon as he should 
 be old enough to study the art of governing. f It was by these 
 memoirs, that the esteem which he had conceived for Marshal 
 du Muy was inspired, and we may add that Madame Adelaide, 
 who at this early period possessed a powerful influence over the 
 decisions of the young monarch, confirmed the impressions 
 they had made. 
 
 titude. The Countess du Barry was, as is well known, one of the 
 victims of the revolution. She betrayed the lowest degree of weakness, 
 and the most ardent desire to live. She was the only woman who wept 
 upon the scaffold and implored for mercy. Her beauty and tears made 
 an impression on the populace, and the execution was hurried to a 
 conclusion. Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 * These prejudices did not arise from the pretended crime, of which 
 slander had accused this minister ; but principally from the suppression 
 of the Jesuits, in which he had in fact taken an active part. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 t It would be difficult to raise a doubt about the existence of these 
 memoirs, or rather these instructions, drawn up by the dauphin for the 
 guidance of his children. That prince was surrounded by men, whose 
 character he had studied, whose principles he approved, and whose 
 attachment he had ascertained: it appears natural in him to have 
 recommended them to his successor. One writer asserts, that he had 
 the list of them in his possession. We give it with the notes accompany- 
 ing it, and which will probably be received as true, when read with 
 a recollection of the progress made by several of the persons to whom 
 they relate, in the confidence, and at the court of Louis XVI. See 
 Historical Illustrations, under letter (H). Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 108 
 
 The Queen conversed with M. Campan on the regret she felt 
 at having been unable to contribute to the recall of JML de 
 Choiseul, and disclosed the cause of it to him. The Abbe de 
 Vermond, who, down to the time of the death of Louis XV., 
 had been on terms of the strictest friendship with M. Campan, 
 called upon him on the second day after the arrival of the court 
 at Choisy, and assuming a serious and austere air, said : " Sir, 
 the Queen was indiscreet enough yesterday, to speak to you of 
 a minister to whom she must of course be attached, and whom 
 his friends ardently desire to have near her; you are aware 
 that we must give up all expectation of seeing the duke at 
 court; you know the reasons why; but you do not know that 
 the young Queen, having mentioned the conversation in question 
 to me, it was my duty, both as her preceptor and her friend, 
 to remonstrate most sharply with her, on her indiscretion in 
 communicating to you those particulars of which you are in 
 possession. I am now come to tell you, that if you continue 
 to avail yourself of the good-nature of your mistress, to intrude 
 yourself into secrets of state, you will have me for your most 
 determined enemy. The Queen ought to have no other confi- 
 dant than myself here, respecting things that ought to remain 
 secret."* M. Campan answered, that he did not covet the 
 important and dangerous character at the new court, which the 
 abbe appropriated to himself; and that he should confine himself 
 to the duties of his office, being so satisfied with the continued 
 kindness with which the Queen honoured him, as to desire 
 nothing more. Notwithstanding this, however, he informed the 
 Queen, on the very same evening, of the injunction he had 
 received. She owned that she had mentioned their conversation 
 to the abbe"; that he had indeed seriously reproved her, in 
 order to make her feel the necessity of being secret in concerns 
 of business ; and she added : " The abbe cannot like you, my 
 
 * The Abbe" de Vermond was not blameable for preventing the Queen's 
 talking to one of the officers of her household about matters of import- 
 ance ; but he was so, for saying that he himself ought to be the deposi- 
 tary of the most momentous secrets. Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 10*
 
 104 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 dear Campan ; he did not expect that I should, on my arrival in 
 France, find in my household a man who would suit me so 
 exactly as you have done.* I know that he has taken umbrage 
 at it ; that is enough : I know, too, that you are incapable of 
 attempting anything to injure him in my esteem; an attempt 
 which would, besides, be vain, for I have been too long attached 
 to him. As to yourself, be tranquil with regard to the abbe's 
 hostility, which shall never in any way hurt you. We run no 
 risk of doing unjust actions, except when the persons about us 
 possess the treacherous art of disguising the motives of hatred 
 or ambition by which they are prompted." 
 
 The Abbe de Vermond having secured himself the office of 
 sole confidant to the Queen, was nevertheless agitated whenever 
 he saw the young monarch. The latter could not be ignorant, 
 that the abbe had been promoted by the Duke de Choiseul, and 
 was believed to favour the encyclopedists, against whom Louis 
 
 * The Abbe" de Vermond "was indeed not aware that the young prin- 
 cess would find in her household a well informed man, capable of amus- 
 ing her, by interesting and lively anecdotes of the courts of Louis XV., 
 the regent, and even of Louis XIV. The abb6 had taken pains at 
 Vienna, to prepossess the dauphiness against M. Moreau, an aged ad- 
 vocate in the councils, and historiographer of France, whose talents 
 had promoted him to the office of librarian to her. On the day after 
 the arrival of the dauphiness at Versailles, the Countess de Noailles 
 asked her what orders she had to give for M. Morcau. She replied, 
 that the only order she had for him was to give up the key of her 
 library to M. Campan, whom she installed into his office ; adding that 
 he might retain the title which the King had conferred upon him, but 
 that she did not accept of his services. Her dame d'honneur exclaimed 
 against this determination, and spoke very highly of M. Moreau's talents ; 
 but the princess was so prejudiced against him that she insisted upon 
 the execution of her order, and added that she would speak to the King 
 about the matter ; that she knew M. Moreau's abilities to be almost too 
 considerable, and that she desired to have no people about her, but 
 those on whom she could rely. The historiographer and librarian 
 never more appeared before the Queen. It is probable that the dau- 
 phiness had been informed of the connection of M. Moreau with the 
 Duke d'Aiguillon, and some members of that minister's party. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan,
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 105 
 
 XVI. entertained a latent prejudice, although he suffered them 
 to gain so great an ascendancy during his reign. The abbe 
 therefore guessed that he could not stand very well with the 
 King. He had moreover observed, that never, while dauphin, 
 had that prince addressed a single word to him ; and that he 
 very frequently answered him with a shrug of the shoulders. 
 He therefore determined on writing to Louis XVI., and inti- 
 mated that he owed his situation at court solely to the confidence 
 with which the late King had honoured him ; and that habits 
 contracted during the Queen's education placing him continually 
 in the closest intimacy with her, he could not enjoy the honour 
 of remaining near her majesty, without the King's consent. 
 Louis XVI. sent back his letter, after writing upon it these 
 words : " I permit the Abbe de Vermond to continue his office 
 about the Queen." 
 
 Although, at the period of his grandfather's death, Louis 
 XVI. had not availed himself of his marital privilege, he began 
 to be exceedingly attached to the Queen. The first period of so 
 deep a mourning not admitting of indulgence in the diversion 
 of hunting, he proposed to her walks in the gardens of Choisy : 
 they went out like man and wife, the young King giving his 
 arm to the Queen, and accompanied by a very small suite. The 
 influence of this example had such an effect upon the courtiers, 
 that the next day several couples, who had long, and for good 
 reasons, been disunited, were, to the amusement of the whole 
 court, seen walking upon the terrace with the same apparent 
 conjugal intimacy. Thus they spent whole hours, braving the 
 intolerable wearisomcness of their protracted t&e-a-t&tcs, out of 
 mere obsequiousness. 
 
 The self-devotion of mesdames for the King their father, 
 throughout his dreadful malady, had produced that effect upon 
 their health, which was generally apprehended. On the fourth 
 day after their arrival at Choisy, the three princesses were 
 attacked by pains in the head and chest, which left no doubt as 
 to the danger of their situation. It became necessary instantly 
 to send away the young royal family; and the Chateau de la
 
 106 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Muette, in the JBois de Boulogne, was selected for their reception. 
 Their arrival at their residence, which was very near Paris, drew 
 so great a concourse of people into its neighbourhood, that even 
 at daybreak the crowd had begun to assemble round the gates. 
 Shouts of Vive le Roi! continued with scarcely a moment's in- 
 terruption from six o'clock in the morning until sunset. The 
 hopes to which a new reign gives birth, and the unpopularity which 
 the late King had drawn upon himself, during his latter years, 
 occasioned all these transports of joy. 
 
 A fashionable jeweller made a fortune by the sale of mourn- 
 ing snuff-boxes, whereon the portrait of the young Queen, in a 
 black frame of shagreen, admitted of the following pun : " Com- 
 fort in chagrin." All the fashions, and every part of dress, 
 received names significant of the spirit of the moment. The 
 symbols of abundance were everywhere represented, and the 
 head-dresses of the ladies were surrounded by ears of wheat. 
 Poets hailed the new monarch ; all hearts, or rather all heads in 
 France, were filled with unexampled enthusiasm. Never did the 
 commencement of any reign excite more unanimous testimonials 
 of love and attachment. It must be observed, however, that 
 amidst all this intoxication, the Anti- Austrian party never lost 
 eight of the young Queen, but, with the malicious desire to in- 
 jure her, watched for such errors as might be expected to arise 
 out of her youth and inexperience. 
 
 Their majesties had to receive, at La Muette, the mourning 
 visits of the ladies who had been presented at court, who all felt 
 themselves called on to pay homage to the new sovereigns. Old 
 and young hastened to present themselves on the day of gene- 
 ral reception. Little black bonnets with great wings, old shaking 
 heads, low curtesies, keeping time with the motions of the head, 
 made, it must be admitted, a few venerable dowagers appear 
 somewhat ridiculous; but the Queen, who possessed much 
 dignity, and a high respect for propriety, was not guilty of the 
 grievous sin of forgetting the decorum she was bound to observe. 
 An indiscreet piece of drollery of one of the ladies of the palace, 
 however, drew on her the imputation of having done so, The
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 107 
 
 Marchioness de Clermont-Tonnerre, whose office required that 
 she should continue standing behind the Queen, fatigued by the 
 length of the ceremony, found it more convenient to seat her- 
 self upon the floor, concealing herself behind the fence formed 
 by the hoops of the Queen and the ladies of the palace. Thus 
 seated, and wishing to attract attention and to appear lively, she 
 twitched the dresses of those ladies, and played off a thousand 
 other tricks. The contrast of these childish pranks with the 
 gloom which reigned over the rest of the Queen's chamber, dis- 
 concerted her majesty several times : she placed her fan before 
 her face to hide an involuntary smile, and the areopagus of old 
 ladies pronounced that the young Queen had derided all the 
 respectable persons who were pressing forward to pay their 
 homage to her ; that she liked none but the young : that she 
 was deficient in every point of decorum ; and that not one of 
 them would attend her court again. The epithet moqueuse was 
 applied to her; and there is not an epithet less favourably 
 received in the world. 
 
 The next day, a very ill-natured song was circulated ; the seal 
 of the party to which it was attributable, might easily be seen 
 upon it. I remember none of it but the following chorus : 
 
 " Little Queen, you must not be 
 
 So saucy with your twenty years ; 
 Your ill-used courtiers soon will see 
 You pass, once more, the barriers." 
 
 The errors of the great, or those which ill-nature chooses to 
 impute to them, circulate in the world with the greatest rapidity, 
 and become fixed there like an historical tradition, which the 
 meanest boor delights to repeat. More than fifteen years after 
 this occurrence, I heard some old ladies in the most retired part 
 of Auvergne, relating all the particulars of the day of public 
 condolence for the late King, on which, as they said, the Queen 
 had laughed in the faces of the duchesses and sexagenary prin- 
 cesses, who had thought it their duty to make their appearance 
 on the occasion. 
 
 The King and the princes, his brothers, determined to avail
 
 108 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 themselves of the advantages held out by inoculation, in order 
 to preserve themselves from the fatal disorder under which their 
 grandfather had just fallen ; but the utility of this new dis- 
 covery not being then generally acknowledged in France, many 
 persons in Paris were greatly alarmed at the step which the 
 King and the princes had just taken; those who blamed it 
 openly, threw all the responsibility of it upon the Queen, who 
 alone, they said, could have ventured to give such rash advice. 
 Inoculation was at this time safely practised in the northern 
 courts, and the operation upon the King and his brothers, 
 performed by Doctor Jauberthou, was fortunately quite suc- 
 cessful. 
 
 "When the convalescence of the princes was perfectly established, 
 ihe court became tolerably cheerful. In the excursions to 
 Marly, parties on horseback, and in calashes, were formed con- 
 tinually. The Queen was desirous to gratify herself with one 
 very innocent enjoyment; she had never witnessed the dawn 
 of day : and having now no other consent than that of the king, 
 to seek, she intimated her wish to him. He agreed that she 
 should go at three o'clock in the morning, to the eminences of 
 the gardens of Marly ; and being unfortunately little disposed to 
 share in her amusements, he himself went to bed. The Queen 
 then carried her intention into effect; but as she foresaw the 
 possibility of some inconveniences in this nocturnal party, she 
 determined on having a number of people with her; and even 
 ordered her women to accompany her. All precautions were 
 ineffectual, to prevent the effects of calumny, which even thus 
 early sought to diminish the general attachment that she had 
 inspired. A few days afterwards, the most wicked ballad that 
 appeared, during the earlier years of this reign, was circulated 
 at Paris. The blackest colours were employed to paint an en- 
 joyment so harmless, that there is scarcely a young woman in 
 the country, who has not endeavoured to procure it for herself. 
 The verses which appeared on this occasion, were entitled "Sun. 
 Rise."* 
 
 * It was thus, with libels and ballads, that the enemies of Marie
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 109 
 
 The Duke d' Orleans, then Duke de Chartres, was among those 
 who accompanied the young Queen in her nocturnal ramble : he 
 appeared very attentive to her on that occasion ; but it was the 
 only moment of his life in which there was any advance towards 
 intimacy between the Queen and himself. The King disliked 
 the character of the Duke de Chartres, and the Queen always 
 kept him at a distance from her private society. It is, there- 
 fore, without the slightest foundation in probability, that some 
 writers have attributed to feelings of jealousy, or wounded self- 
 love, the hatred which he displayed towards the Queen, during 
 the latter years of their existence. 
 
 It was on the first journey to Marly, that Boehmer, the jewel- 
 ler, appeared at court ; a man whose stupidity and avarice after- 
 wards produced the occurrence which most fatally affected the 
 happiness and reputation of Marie Antoinette. This person had, 
 at great expense, collected six pear-formed diamonds, of a pro- 
 digious size ; they were perfectly matched and of the finest water. 
 The ear-rings which they composed, had, before the death of 
 Louis XV., been destined for the Countess du Barry. 
 
 Boehmer, by the recommendation of several persons about the 
 court, came to offer these jewels to the Queen : he asked four 
 hundred thousand francs for them : the young princess could 
 not withstand her wish to purchase them ; and the King having 
 just raised the Queen's income, which under the former reign 
 had been but two hundred thousand livres, to one hundred thou- 
 sand crowns a year, she wished to make the purchase out of her 
 own purse, and not burthen the royal treasury with payment for 
 a matter of pure fancy : she proposed to Brehmer to take off the 
 
 two buttons which formed the tops of the clusters, as they could 
 
 t 
 
 Antoinette hailed the first days of her reign. They exerted themselves 
 eveiy way to render her unpopular. Their aim was, beyond all doubt, 
 to have her sent back to Germany ; and there was not a moment to be 
 lost in its accomplishment. That the indifference of the Bang towards 
 his amiable and beautiful wife had lasted so long, was already a mat- 
 ter of wonder ; day after day it was to be expected that the seductive 
 charms of Marie Antoinette would undo all their machinations. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 110 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 be replaced by two of her own diamonds. He consented, 
 then reduced the price of the ear-rings to three hundred and 
 sixty thousand francs ; the payment for which was stipulated to 
 be made by instalments, and was discharged, in the course of 
 four or five years, by the Queen's first femme de chambre, 
 intrusted with her privy purse. I have omitted no particulars 
 of the manner in which the Queen first became possessed of 
 these jewels, deeming them very necessary to place the too-fa- 
 mous circumstance of the necklace, which happened near the 
 end of the reign of Marie Antoinette, in its true light. It was 
 likewise on this first journey to Marly, that the Duchess de 
 Chartres, afterwards Duchess d' Orleans, introduced into the 
 Queen's household, Mademoiselle Bertin, a milliner who became 
 celebrated at that time for the total change which she effected in 
 the dress of the French ladies. 
 
 It will be seen, that the admission of a milliner into the house 
 of the Queen, was followed by evil consequences to her majesty. 
 The skill of the milliner, who was received into the household, 
 in spite of the usual custom which kept all persons of her de- 
 scription out of it, afforded her the means of introducing some 
 new fashion every day. Up to this time, the Queen had shown 
 but a very plain taste in dress ; she now began to make it an 
 occupation of moment ; and she was of course imitated by other 
 women. 
 
 Every one instantly wished to have the same dress as the 
 Queen, and to wear the feathers and flowers to which her 
 beauty, then in its brilliancy, lent an indescribable charm. The 
 expenditure of young women was necessarily much increased ; 
 mothers and husbands murmured at it ; some giddy women con- 
 tracted debts ; unpleasant domestic scenes occurred ; in many 
 families quarrels arose ; in another affection was extinguished ; 
 and the general report was that the Queen would be the ruin 
 of all the French ladies. 
 
 Fashion continued its fluctuating progress ; and head-dresses, 
 with their superstructures of gauze, flowers, and feathers, arose 
 to such a degree of loftiness, that the women could not find car-
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. Ill 
 
 riages high enough to ^admit them ; and they were often seen 
 either stooping, or holding their heads out at the windows. 
 Others knelt down in order to manage these elevated objects of 
 ridicule with the less danger.* Innumerable caricatures, exhi- 
 bited in all directions, and some of which artfully gave the fea- 
 tures of the Queen, attacked the extravagance of fashion, but 
 with very little effect. It changed only, as is always the case, 
 through the influence of inconstancy and time. 
 
 The princess's toilette was a masterpiece of etiquette ; every- 
 thing done on the occasion, was in a prescribed form. Both the 
 lady of honour and the tire-woman usually attended and offici- 
 ated, assisted by the first femme de chambre, and two inferior 
 attendants, f The tire-woman put on the petticoat, and handed 
 the gown to the Queen. The lady of honour poured out the 
 water for her hands, and put on her body linen. When a prin- 
 
 * If the use of these extravagant, feathers and head-dresses had con- 
 tinued, say the Memoirs of that period very seriously, it would have 
 effected a revolution in architecture. It would have been found neces- 
 sary to raise the doors and ceilings of the boxes at the theatres, and 
 particularly the bodies of carriages. It was not without mortification 
 that the King observed the Queen's adoption of this style of dress ; she 
 never was so lovely in his eyes, as when unadorned by art. One day, 
 Carlin, performing at court, before the princess, as Harlequin, stuck 
 in his hat, instead of the rabbit's tail, its prescribed ornament, a pea- 
 cock's feather of excessive length. This new appendage, which repeat- 
 edly got entangled among the scenei'y, gave him an opportunity of ven- 
 turing a great deal of buffoonerj r . There was an inclination to punish 
 him : but it was presumed that he had not assumed the feather without 
 authority. Note by the Editor. 
 
 j- The distinction between the honorary service, and the ordinary 
 service, is easily drawn. "I have the right to do it," says honorary 
 service haughtily. " You must do it, you must follow," surlily answers 
 ordinary service. Between these ridiculous and contradictory airs, of 
 people who have the right to act, and do not act, and people whose 
 duty it is to act, and who stilt will not act, the great are likely to be 
 very ill served. Madame Campan has taken pains to collect particulars 
 relative to the ordinary service of the Queen of France. They will be 
 found among the Historical Illustrations, given by Madame Campan 
 (No. 1). Note by the Editor. 
 
 VOL. I. 11
 
 112 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cess of the royal family happened to be present while the Queen 
 was dressing, the lady of honour yielded to her the latter act of 
 office, but still did not yield it directly to the princess of the 
 blood; in such a case, the lady of honour was accustomed to 
 present the linen to the chief lady in waiting, who, in her turn, 
 handed it to the princess of the blood. Each of these ladies 
 observed these rules scrupulously, as affecting her rights. One 
 winter's day it happened that the Queen, who was entirely 
 undressed, was just going to put on her body linen; I held it 
 ready unfolded for her ; the lady of honour came in, slipped off 
 her gloves, and took it. A rustling was heard at the door ; it 
 was opened : and in came the Duchess d' Orleans ; she took her 
 gloves off, and came forward to take the garment; but as it 
 would have been wrong in the lady of honour to hand it to her, 
 she gave it to me, and I handed it to the princess : a further 
 noise it was the Countess de Provence ; the Duchess d' Orleans 
 handed her the linen. All this while the Queen kept her arms 
 crossed upon her bosom, and appeared to feel cold : Madame 
 observed her uncomfortable situation, and merely laying down 
 her handkerchief, without taking off her gloves, she put on the 
 linen, and, in doing so, knocked the Queen's cap off. The 
 Queen laughed to conceal her impatience, but not until she had 
 muttered several times : " How disagreeable ! how tiresome I" 
 
 All this etiquette, however inconvenient, was suitable to the 
 royal dignity, which expects to find servants in all classes of 
 persons, beginning even with the brothers and sisters of the 
 monarch. 
 
 Speaking here of etiquette, I do not allude to that order of 
 state laid down for days of ceremony in all courts. I mean 
 those minute ceremonies that were observed towards our kings 
 in their inmost privacies, in their hours of pleasure, in those of 
 pain, and even during the most revolting of human infirmities. 
 
 These servile rules were drawn up into a kind of code ; they 
 offered to a Richelieu, a Rochefoucalt, and a Duras, in the 
 exercise of their domestic functions, opportunities of intimacy 
 useful to their interests ; and to humour their vanity, they were
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 113 
 
 pleased with customs, -which converted the right to give a glass 
 of water, to put on a dress, and to remove a basin, into honour- 
 able prerogatives. 
 
 Princes thus accustomed to be treated as divinities, naturally 
 arrived at the belief, that they were of a distinct nature, of a 
 purer essence than the rest of mankind. 
 
 This sort of etiquette, which led our princes to cause them- 
 selves to be treated in private as idols, made them in public, 
 martyrs to decorum. Marie Antoinette found in the castle of 
 Versailles, a multitude of established and revered customs, which 
 appeared to her insupportable. 
 
 None but sworn femmes de chambre, wearing the full court 
 dresses, were entitled to remain in the room, and to attend in 
 conjunction with the dame d'honneur and the tire-woman. 
 The Queen abolished all this formality. As soon as her head 
 was dressed, she curtesied to all the ladies who were in her 
 chamber, and, followed only by her own women, went into her 
 closet, where Mademoiselle Bertin, who could not be admitted 
 into the chamber, used to await her.* It was in this inner 
 closet that she produced her new and numerous dresses. The 
 Queen was also desirous of being served by the most fashionable 
 hair-dresser in Paris. Now the custom which forbade all per- 
 sons in inferior office, employed by royalty, to exert their talents 
 for the public, was no doubt intended to cut off all communi- 
 cation between the privacy of princes, and society at large; the 
 latter being always extremely curious respecting the most trifling 
 particulars, relative to the private life of the former. The 
 Queen, fearing that the taste of the hair-dresser would suffer, if 
 
 * Mademoiselle Bertin, it is said, upon the strength of the Queen's 
 kindness, assumed u most ridiculous degree of pride. A lady one day 
 went to that famous fashion-monger, to ask for some patterns of mourn- 
 ing for the Empress. Several were shown to her, all of which she 
 rejected. Mademoiselle Bertin exclaimed, in a tone of voice made up 
 of vexation and self-sufficiency, " Show the lady then some specimens 
 of my last transactions with her majesty." However ridiculous the ex- 
 pression may sound, it was actually used as related. 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 114 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lie should discontinue the general practice of his art, ordered 
 him to serve as usual certain ladies of the court and capital; 
 and this multiplied the opportunities of learning details respect- 
 ing the household, and very often misrepresenting them. 
 
 One of the customs most disagreeable to the Queen, was, that 
 of dining every day in public. Maria Leckzinska had constantly 
 submitted to this wearisome practice : Marie Antoinette fol- 
 lowed it as long as she was dauphiness. The dauphin dined 
 with her, and each branch of the family had its public dinner 
 daily. The ushers suffered all decently-dressed people to enter; 
 the sight was the delight of persons from the country. At the 
 dinner hour, there were none to be met upon the stairs but 
 honest folks, who, after having seen the dauphiness take her 
 soup, went to see the princes eat their bouilli, and then ran till 
 they were out of breath to behold mesdames at their dessert.* 
 
 Very ancient usage, too, required that the Queens of France 
 should appear in public, surrounded only by women ; even at 
 meal times, no person of the other sex attended to serve at 
 table ; and although the King ate publicly with the Queen, yet 
 he himself was served by women, with everything which was 
 presented to him directly at table. The lady of honour, kneel- 
 ing for her own accommodation upon a low stool, with a napkin 
 upon her arm, and four women in full dress, presented the 
 plates to the King and Queen. The lady of honour handed 
 them drink. This service had formerly been the right of the 
 maids of honour. The Queen, upon her accession to the throne, 
 abolished the usage altogether ; she also freed herself from the 
 necessity of being followed, in the palace of Versailles, by two 
 of her women in court dresses, during those hours of the day, 
 when the ladies of the chamber were not with her. From that 
 
 * It will be imagined that the charms of conversation, cheerfulness, 
 and good-natured freedom, which in France contribute to the pleasures 
 of the table, were strangers to these ceremonious repasts. In fact, it 
 was necessary to have been habituated from infancy to eat in public, 
 in order to avoid losing all appetite, from being the object to which 
 the eyes of so many strangers were directed. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan*
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 115 
 
 time she was accompanied only by a single valet de chambre, and 
 two footmen. All the errors of Marie Antoinette were of the 
 same description as those which I have just detailed. An incli- 
 nation to substitute by degrees the simple customs of Vienna 
 for those of Versailles, proved more injurious to her, than she 
 could possibly have imagined. 
 
 The Queen frequently spoke to the Abbe" de Vermond, of the 
 perpetually recurring impertinences, from which she had to free 
 herself; and I observed that after having listened to what he 
 had to say on the subject, she always indulged in philosophical 
 reveries on simplicity beneath the diadem, and paternal confi- 
 dence in devoted subjects, with great pleasure. This charming 
 romance of royalty, which is not given to all sovereigns to 
 realize, flattered the tender heart and youthful fancy of Marie 
 Antoinette, in an extraordinary degree. 
 
 Brought up in a court where simplicity was combined with 
 majesty : placed at Versailles, between a troublesome lady of 
 honour, and an imprudent adviser, it is not surprising that when 
 she became Queen, she was desirous of evading disagreeables, 
 the indispensable necessity of which she could not see : this 
 error sprung from a true feeling of sensibility. This unfor- 
 tunate princess, against whom the opinions of the French people 
 were at length greatly excited, possessed qualities which deserved 
 to obtain the highest degree of popularity. None could doubt 
 this, who, like myself, had heard her with delight, describe the 
 partriarchal manners of the house of Lorraine. She was accuS" 
 tomcd to say, that by transplanting their manners into Austria, 
 the princes of that house had laid the foundation of the unassail- 
 able popularity enjoyed by the imperial family.* She fre- 
 quently related to me the interesting manner in which the 
 Dukes of Lorraine levied their taxes. " The sovereign prince," 
 said she, " went to church ; after the sermon he rose, waved his 
 hat in the air, to show that he was about to speak, and then 
 
 * See the Historical Illustrations, letter (I), for several curious pecu- 
 liarities of the simple habits of the court of Vienna. 
 
 Note by the Editor. 
 11*
 
 116 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 mentioned the sum of which he stood in need. Such was the 
 zeal of the good Lorrainers, that men have been known to take 
 away linen or household utensils, without the knowledge of 
 their wives, and sell them to add the value to the contribution. 
 It sometimes happened, too, that the prince received more money 
 than he asked for, in which case he restored the surplus." 
 
 All who were acquainted with the Queen's private qualities, 
 knew that she equally deserved attachment and esteem. Kind 
 and patient to the utmost, in all her relations with her house- 
 hold, she indulgently considered all around her; and interested 
 herself in their fortunes, and in their pleasures. She had, among 
 her women, young girls from the Maison de Saint-Cyr, all well 
 born j the Queen forbade them the play, when the performances 
 were not of a suitable degree of morality : sometimes, when old 
 plays were to be represented, if she found she could not with 
 certainty trust to her memory, she would take the trouble to 
 read them in the morning, to enable her to judge of them, and 
 then decide whether the girls should or should not go to see 
 them : rightly considering herself bound to watch over the 
 morals and conduct of those young persons. 
 
 I am pleased at being able here to assert the truth respecting 
 two valuable qualities which the Queen possessed in a high 
 degree temperance and modesty. Her customary dinner was 
 a chicken, roasted or boiled, and she drank water only. She 
 showed no particular partiality for anything but her coffee in 
 the morning, and a sort of bread to which she had been accus- 
 tomed in her infancy at Vienna. 
 
 Her modesty, in every particular of her private toilet, was 
 extreme ; she bathed in a long flannel gown, buttoned up to the 
 neck ; and, while her two bathing women assisted her out of the 
 bath, she required one of them to hold a cloth before her, raised 
 so that her attendants might not see her. And yet one Soulavie 
 has dared, in the first volume of a most scandalous work, to say 
 that the Queen was disgustingly immodest ; that she was accus- 
 tomed to bathe naked, and that she had even given admittance 
 to a venerable ecclesiastic, while in that state. What punish-
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 117 
 
 ment can be too great for libellers, who dare to give such perfi- 
 dious falsehoods the title of historical memoirs 1* 
 
 * Every one must partake the indignation felt by Madame Campari 
 on reading, in the Abbe" Soulavie's Memoirs, the details to which, -with 
 a warmth highly creditable to her, she gives the lie. How could 
 an historian possessed of any sagacity, put forth assertions so false ? 
 How could a man of any sense of shame how could a priest write them 
 down ? After reading this passage of his Historical Memoirs, we may 
 imagine why there exists so much unwillingness to consult them, and 
 how much discredit similar assertions throw upon whatever truths he 
 may have published in the same work Note by the Editor
 
 118 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Revision of the Papers of Louis XV., by Louis XVI. Man in the Iron 
 Mask The late King's Interest in certain Financial Companies 
 Representation of Iphigenia in Aulis The King gives Little Trianon 
 to the Queen The Archduke Maximilian's Journey to France Ques- 
 tions of Precedence Misadventure of the Archduke Lying-in of the 
 Countess d'Artois The Poissardes cry out to the Queen to give Heirs 
 to the throne Death of the Duke de la Vauguyon Portrait of Louis 
 XVI. Of the Count de Provence Of the Count d'Artois, &c. 
 
 DURING the first few months of his reign, Louis XVI. had 
 dwelt at La Muette, Marly, and Comphegne. When he was set- 
 tled at Versailles, he busied himself with a general revision 
 of his grandfather's papers. He had promised the Queen to 
 communicate to her all that he might discover relative to the 
 history of the man with the iron mask : he thorfght, after what 
 he had heard on the subject, this iron mask had become so inex- 
 haustible a source of conjecture, only in consequence of the in- 
 terest which the pen of a celebrated writer had raised respect- 
 ing the detention of a prisoner of state, who was merely a man 
 of whimsical tastes and habits. 
 
 I was with the Queen when the King, having finished his 
 researches, informed her that he had not found anything among 
 the secret papers, elucidating the existence of this prisoner; 
 that he had conversed on the matter with M. de Maurepas, whose 
 age showed him a contemporary with the epoch during which the 
 anecdote in question must have been known to the ministers ; 
 and that M. de Maurepas had assured him he was merely a pri- 
 soner of a very dangerous character, in consequence of his dis- 
 position for intrigue ; and was a subject of the Duke of Mantua. 
 He was enticed to the frontier, arrested there, and kept prisoner,
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 119 
 
 first at Pignerol, and afterwards in the Bastille. This transfer 
 from one prison to the other, took place in consequence of the 
 appointment of the governor of the former place, to the govern- 
 ment of the latter. He was aware of the stratagems of his pri- 
 soner; and it was for fear the latter should profit by the inex- 
 perience of a new governor, that he was sent with the governor 
 of Pignerol to the Bastille. 
 
 Such was, in fact, the real truth about the man on whom 
 people have been pleased to fix an iron mask. And thus was it 
 related in writing, and published, by M. * * *, twenty years 
 ago. He had searched the depot of foreign affairs, and there he 
 had found the truth : he laid it before the public ; but the public, 
 prepossessed in favour of a version which attracted them by the 
 marvellous, would not acknowledge the authenticity of the true 
 account. Every man relied upon the authority of Voltaire : and 
 it is still believed that a natural, or a twin brother of Louis 
 XIV. lived a number of years in prison, with a mask over his 
 face. The whimsical story of this mask, perhaps had its origin 
 in the old custom, among both men and women, in Italy, of 
 wearing a velvet mask, when they exposed themselves to the 
 sun. It is possible that the Italian captive may have sometimes 
 shown himself upon the terrace of his prison, with his face thus 
 covered. As to the silver plate which this celebrated prisoner 
 is said to have thrown from his window, it is known that such 
 a circumstance did happen ; but it happened at Valzin. It was 
 in the time of Cardinal Richelieu. This anecdote has been mixed 
 up with the inventions respecting the Piedmontese prisoner. 
 
 It was also in this review of his grandfather's papers, that 
 Louis XVI. found some very curious particulars relative to his 
 private treasury. Certain shares, in various companies of 
 finance, afforded him a revenue, and had at last produced him 
 a capital of some amount, which he applied to his secret 
 expenses. The King collected his vouchers of title to these 
 shares, and made a present of them to M. Thierry de Villeda- 
 vray, his chief valet de chembre. 
 
 The Queen was desirous to secure the comfort of the prin-
 
 120 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cesses, the daughters of Louis XV., who were held in the 
 highest respect. About this period, she contributed to furnish 
 them with a revenue sufficient to provide them an easy compe- 
 tence. The King gave them the chateau of Bellevue; and 
 added to the produce of it, which was given up to them, the 
 expenses of their table and equipage, and payment of all the 
 charges of their household, the number of which was even 
 increased. During the lifetime of Louis XV., who was a very 
 selfish prince, his daughters, although they had attained forty 
 years of age, had no other place of residence than their apart- 
 ments in the palace of Versailles ; no other walks than such as 
 they could take in the large park of that palace ; and no other 
 means of gratifying their taste for a garden, but by having 
 boxes and vases, filled with plants, in their balconies or closets. 
 They had, therefore, reason to be much pleased with the 
 conduct of Marie Antoinette, who had the greatest influence in 
 the King's kindness towards his aunts. 
 
 Paris never ceased, during the first years of the reign, to 
 testify joy whenever the Queen appeared at any of the plays of 
 the capital. The representation of Iphigenia in Aulis, produced 
 her one of the most pleasing triumphs that ever were enjoyed 
 by any sovereign. The actor, who sang the words, "Let us 
 sing, let us praise our Queen;" which were repeated by the 
 chorus, directed by a respectful movement towards her majesty, 
 the eyes of the whole assembly upon her : reiterated cries of 
 encore ! and clapping of hands, were followed by such a burst 
 of enthusiasm, that many of the audience added their voices to 
 those of the actors, in order to celebrate, it might too truly be 
 said, another Iphigenia. The Queen, deeply affected, covered 
 her streaming eyes with her handkerchief; and this public 
 proof of sensibility raised the general enthusiasm to a still 
 higher pitch. 
 
 Such a reception unfortunately induced the Queen too often 
 to seek for circumstances, which might either present or recall 
 enjoyments equally delightful.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 121 
 
 The King gave her Little Trianon.* Henceforward she 
 amused herself with improving the gardens, without allowing 
 any addition to the building, or any change in the furniture, 
 which was become very shabby, and remained, in 1789, in the 
 same state as during the reign of Louis XV. Everything there, 
 without exception, was preserved j and the Queen slept in a very 
 faded bed, which in fact had been used by the Countess du Barry. 
 The charge of extravagance, generally made against the Queen, 
 is the most unaccountable of all the popular errors respecting 
 her character, which have crept into the world.f She had ex- 
 actly the contrary failing : and I could prove that she often car- 
 ried her economy to a degree of parsimony actually blameable, 
 and particularly in a sovereign. She took a great liking for her 
 retirement of Trianon j she used to go there alone, followed by 
 a valet ; but she found attendants ready to receive her a stew- 
 ard, and his wife, who served her as femme de chambre ; women 
 of the wardrobe ; footmen, &c. 
 
 When she first took possession of Little Trianon, a report 
 was spread that she had changed the name of the seat which the 
 King had just given her, and had called it Little Vienna, or 
 Little Schcenbrunn. A person, who belonged to the court, and 
 was simple enough to give credit hastily to this report, wishing 
 to visit Little Trianon with a party, wrote to M. Campan, request- 
 ing the Queen's permission to do so. In his note, he called 
 Trianon Little Vienna. Similar requests were usually laid be- 
 fore the Queen just as they were made : she chose to give the 
 
 * The seat called Little Trianon, -which was built for Louis XV., is 
 not remarkably handsome as a building. The luxuriance of the hot- 
 houses rendered the place agreeable to that prince. He spent a few 
 days there several times in the year. It was while he was setting off 
 from Versailles for Little Trianon, that he was struck in the side by 
 the knife of Damiens ; and it was there that he was attacked by the 
 small-pox, of which disorder he died on the 10th of May, 1774. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 f This charge of prodigality, so unjustly laid against the Queen, was 
 spread with such industry throughout France and all Europe, that it 
 must have been a part of the scheme for rendering the court solely 
 responsible for the bad state of the finances. Note by Madame Campan.
 
 122 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 permissions to see her gardens herself, feeling a pleasure in grant- 
 ing these little marks of favour. When she came to the ob- 
 noxious words, she was very much offended, and exclaimed, an- 
 grily, that there were too many fools ready to aid the malicious ; 
 that she had heard of the report circulated, that she thought of 
 nothing hut her own country, and that she kept an Austrian 
 heart, while the interests of France alone ought to engage her. 
 She refused this request, so awkwardly made ; and desired Ma- 
 dame Campan to reply, that Trianon was not to be seen for some 
 time j and that the Queen was astonished that any man of 
 respectability, should believe she would do so ill-judged a thing, 
 as to change the French names of her palaces, to substitute 
 foreign ones. 
 
 Before the first visit of the Emperor Joseph II. to France, the 
 Queen received a visit from the Archduke Maximilian, in 1775. 
 An injudicious pretension, suggested by the persons who advised 
 this prince, or rather an act of stupidity of the ambassador, 
 seconded on the part of the Queen by the Abbe Vermond, gave 
 rise, at that period, to a discussion which incensed the princes 
 of the blood, and the chief nobility of the kingdom, against the 
 Queen. Travelling iiicognito, the young prince insisted that the 
 first visit was not due from him to the princes of the blood 
 and the Queen supported his determination.* 
 
 From the time of the regency, and on account of the residence 
 of the family of Orleans in the bosom of the capital, Paris had 
 preserved a remarkable degree of attachment and respect for that 
 branch : and although the crown was becoming more and more 
 remote from the princes of the house of Orleans, they had the 
 advantage (a great one with the Parisians,) of being the descend- 
 
 * Two mistakes of this description were made at court one at the 
 time of the dauphiness's marriage, and the other on the occasion here 
 spoken of by Madame Campan. These questions of precedence, im- 
 prudently discussed, and which irritated the superior nobility, gave 
 rise to disputes, furnished anecdotes, and produced bonmots and 
 epigrams, some of which Grimm relates in his Correspondence, and 
 which will be found in the Historical Elustrations, letter (K). 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 123 
 
 ants of Henry IV. An affront to the princes, and especially to 
 that beloved family, was a serious ground of dislike to the 
 Queen. It was at this period, and perhaps for the first time, 
 that the circles of the city, and even of the court, expressed 
 themselves bitterly about her levity, and her partiality for the 
 house of Austria. The prince for whom the Queen had embarked 
 in an important family quarrel and a quarrel involving national 
 prerogatives was, besides, little calculated to inspire interest. 
 Still young, uninformed, and deficient in natural talents, he was 
 always committing some foolish errors. 
 
 The archduke's visit was, in every point of view, a misfor- 
 tune. He did nothing but commit blunders. He went to the 
 King's garden ; M. de Buffon, who received him there, presented 
 him with a copy of his works : the prince declined accepting 
 the book, saying to M. de Buffon in the most polite manner 
 possible, "I should be very sorry to deprive you of it."* It 
 may be supposed that the Parisians were much entertained with 
 this answer. 
 
 The Queen was exceedingly mortified at the blunders com- 
 mitted by her brother ; but what hurt her most on the occasion, 
 was the being accused of preserving an Austrian heart. Marie 
 Antoinette had more than once to endure that cruel imputation, 
 during the long course of her misfortunes ; habit never dried up 
 the tears drawn forth by such instances of injustice ; but the 
 first time she was suspected of not loving France, she gave way 
 to her indignation. All that she could say on the subject, was 
 useless : by seconding the pretensions of the archduke, she had 
 put arms into her enemies' hands; they were labouring to 
 deprive her of the love of the people ; and endeavoured, by all 
 possible means, to spread a belief, that the Queen sighed for 
 Germany, and preferred that country to France. 
 
 Marie Antoinette had none but herself to rely on, for pre- 
 serving the fickle smiles of the court, and the public. The 
 
 * Joseph II. on his visit to France, went also to see M. de Buffon, and 
 said to that celebrated man : " I come to fetch the copy of your works, 
 which my brother forgot." Note by the Editor. 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 124 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 King, too indifferent to serve her as a guide, as yet Lad con- 
 ceived no love for her ; the intimacy that grew between them at 
 Choisy, having had no such result. 
 
 In his closet, Louis XVI. was immersed in serious study. 
 At the council he was busied with the welfare of his people ; 
 hunting and mechanical occupations engrossed his leisure mo- 
 ments, and he never thought on the subject of an heir. 
 
 The coronation took place at Rheims, with all the accustomed 
 pomp. At this period Louis XVI. experienced that which can, 
 and should, most powerfully affect the heart of a virtuous sove- 
 reign. The people's love for him burst forth in those unani- 
 mous transports, which are clearly distinguishable from the 
 impulse of curiosity, or the clamours of party. He replied to 
 this enthusiasm, by marks of confidence, worthy of a people 
 happy in being under the government of a good king ; he took 
 a pleasure in repeatedly walking without guards, in the midst 
 of the crowd which pressed around him, and called down bless- 
 ings on his head. I remarked the impression made at this time, 
 by an observation of Louis XVI. On the day of his corona- 
 tion, in the middle of the choir of the cathedral at Rheims, he 
 put his hand up to his head, at the moment of the crown being 
 placed upon it, and said, " It hurts me." Henry III. had ex- 
 claimed, " It pricks me." Those who were near the King, were 
 struck with the similitude between these two exclamations, 
 though it will not be imagined, that such as had the honour of 
 being near the young monarch on that day, were of the class, 
 which ignorance renders superstitious.* 
 
 While the Queen, neglected as she was, could not even hope 
 
 * The account of the coronation of Louis XVT. is interesting to the 
 present generation, because all the usages of the ancient monarchy are 
 to be found in it Many circumstances attending it, likewise place the 
 characters of the King and Queen in the most favourable light. But 
 as these details are taken from a work published in 1791, it cannot 
 be surprising that they are strongly tinctured with the spirit and feel- 
 ing of the times. (See Historical Illustrations, letter L.) 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 126 
 
 for the happiness of being a mother, she had the mortification 
 to witness the confinement of the Countess d'Artois, and the 
 birth of the Duke d'Angouleme. 
 
 Custom required that the royal family and the whole court 
 should be present at the delivery of the princesses; that of a 
 Queen was obliged to be absolutely public. The Queen was 
 therefore compelled to stay the whole day in her sister-in-law's 
 chamber. The moment the Countess d'Artois was informed it 
 was a prince, she exclaimed with energy, "My God, how happy 
 I am I" The Queen felt very differently at this involuntary and 
 natural exclamation. At that moment, she had not even the 
 hope of being a mother. She nevertheless disguised her morti- 
 fication. She bestowed all possible marks of tenderness upon 
 the young mother, and would not leave her until she was put 
 into bed ; she afterwards passed along the staircase, and 
 through the guard-room, with a calm demeanour, in the midst 
 of an immense crowd. The poissardes, who had assumed a 
 right of speaking to sovereigns, in their own gross and ridicu- 
 lous language, followed her to her very apartments, calling out 
 to her, in the most licentious expressions, that she ought to 
 produce heirs. The Queen hastened to her inner room, ex- 
 tremely agitated ; she shut herself up to weep with me alone, 
 not from jealousy of her sister-in-law's happiness of that she 
 was incapable, but from affliction at her own situation. 
 
 I have often had occasion to admire the Queen's moderation 
 in all cases of great and personal interest; she was extremely 
 affecting, when in misfortune. 
 
 Deprived of the happiness of giving an heir to the crown, 
 the Queen endeavoured to create illusions around her, to beguile 
 her feelings. She had always children belonging to the people 
 of her house near her, and lavished the tenderest caresses upon 
 them. She had long been desirous of bringing up one of them 
 herself, and of making it the constant object of her care. A 
 little village boy, four or five years old, full of health, with a 
 pleasing countenance, remarkably large blue eyes, and fine light 
 hair, carelessly got under the feet of the Queen's horses, when
 
 126 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 she was taking aii airing in a calash, through the hamlet of 
 Saint Michel, near Luciennes. The coachman and postillions 
 stopped the horses, and the child was rescued from its imminent 
 peril, without the slightest injury. Its grandmother rushed 
 out of the door of her cottage to take it; but the Queen stood 
 up in her calash, and extending her arms to the old woman, 
 called out that the child was hers, and that Providence had 
 given it to her, to console her, no doubt, until she should have 
 the happiness of having one herself. " Is his mother alive ?" 
 asked the Queen. " No, madam ; my daughter died last winter, 
 and left five small children upon my hands." " I will take this 
 one, and provide for all the rest, do you consent?" "Ah, 
 madam, they are too fortunate," replied the cottager ; " but 
 James is very wayward : I hope he will stay with you !" The 
 Queen, taking little James upon her knee, said that she would 
 soon make him used to her ; that it should be her occupation ; 
 and she ordered the equipage to proceed. It was necessary, 
 however, to shorten the ride, so violently did James scream, and 
 kick the Queen and her ladies. 
 
 The arrival of her majesty at her apartments at Versailles, 
 holding the little rustic by the hand, astonished the whole house- 
 hold ; he screamed out lustily that he wanted his grandmother, 
 his brother Louis, and his sister Marianne ; nothing could calm 
 him. He was taken away by the wife of a servant, who was 
 appointed to attend him as nurse. The other children were put 
 to school. Poor James, whose family name was Armand, came 
 back to the Queen two days afterwards ; a white frock trimmed 
 with lace, a rose-coloured sash with silver fringe, and a hat de- 
 corated with feathers, were now substituted for the woollen cap 
 and the little red frock, and wooden shoes. The child was really 
 very beautiful. The Queen was enchanted with him ; he was 
 brought to her every morning, at nine o'clock ; he breakfasted 
 and dined with her, and often with the King. She liked to call 
 him my child* and lavished the tenderest caresses upon him, 
 
 * This little unfortunate was nearly twenty in 1792 ; the incendiary 
 endeavours of the people, and the fear of being thought a favoured
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 127 
 
 still maintaining a deep silence respecting the affliction which 
 constantly occupied her heart. 
 
 This child remained with the Queen, until the time when Ma- 
 dame was old enough to come home to her august mother, who 
 had particularly taken upon herself the care of her education. 
 
 The King began to take pleasure in the society of the Queen, 
 although he had not yet exercised the privilege of a husband. 
 The Queen was incessantly talking of the good qualities which 
 she admired in Louis XVI., and gladly attributed to herself the 
 slightest favourable change in his manner : perhaps she displayed 
 too unreservedly the joy she felt at it, and the part she fancied 
 herself to have in it. 
 
 One day Louis XVI. saluted her ladies with more kindness 
 and grace than usual, and the Queen said to them : " Now con- 
 fess, ladies, that for one so badly brought up, the King has sa- 
 luted you very prettily." 
 
 The Queen detested M. de la Vauguyon; she accused him 
 alone, of those points in the habits and even the sentiments of 
 the King, which hurt her. 
 
 An old lady, who had been first lady of the bed-chamber to 
 Queen Maria Leckzinska, had continued in office near the young 
 Queen. She was one of those old people, who are fortunate 
 enough to spend their whole lives in the service of kings, with- 
 out knowing anything of what is passing at court. She was a 
 great devotee : the Abbe" Grisel, an ex-jesuit, was her confessor. 
 Being rich from her savings, and an income of 50,000 livres, 
 which she had long enjoyed, she kept a very good table, and in 
 her apartment the most distinguished persons who still advo- 
 cated the order of the Jesuits often assembled. The Duke de 
 la Vauguyon was intimate with her ; their chairs, at the church 
 des Recollets, were placed near each other; at high mass they 
 sang the Gloria in Excelsis, and the Magnificat together ; and 
 the pious old virgin, seeing in him only one of God's elect, little 
 
 creature of the Queen's, had made him the most sanguinary terrorist 
 of Versailles. He was killed at the battle of Jemappes. 
 
 Note by Madame Campari. 
 12*
 
 128 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 imagined him to be the declared enemy of a princess whom she 
 served and revered. On the day of his death, she ran all in 
 tears to relate to the Queen the aits of piety, humanity, and 
 repentance of the last moments of the Duke de la Vauguyon. 
 He had called his people together, she said, to ask their pardon. 
 "For what?" replied the Queen sharply; "he has placed and 
 pensioned off all his servants ; it was of the King and his bro- 
 thers, that the holy man you bewail should have asked pardon ; 
 for having paid so little attention to the education of princes on 
 whom the fate and happiness of twenty-five millions of men 
 depend. Luckily," added she, " although they are still young, 
 the King and his brothers have incessantly laboured to repair 
 the errors of their preceptor."* 
 
 * Grimm gives the following passage : "The Duke de la Vauguyon 
 lias lately departed, to render an account at the tribunal of eternal 
 justice, of the manner in which he has acquitted himself of the appalling 
 and important duty of educating a dauphin of France ; and to receive the 
 punishment due to the most criminal of undertakings, if it was not ful- 
 filled to the wishes and applause of the whole nation. A remarkable act 
 of vanity, which excited equally the attention of the court, and the city, 
 was witnessed on that occasion ; this was the card of invitation to the 
 funeral sent round to every house according to custom. This card, on 
 account of its singularity, has become a tenant of the library. Every 
 one has wished to preserve it ; and from being much sought after, it is 
 already scarce, notwithstanding the profusion with which it was dis- 
 tributed. I will transcribe it here, from beginning to end, in hope that 
 it may carry down these pages with it to posterity. 
 
 " ' You are requested to attend the funeral procession, service, and 
 interment of Monseigneur Antoine-Paul-Jacques de Quelen, head of 
 the names and arms of the ancient lords of the Castellany of Quelen, 
 in Upper Britanny, juvdgneur of the Counts of Porhoet, nominee to the 
 name and arms of Stuer de Caulsade, Duke de la Vauguyon, peer of 
 France, Prince of Carency, Count de Quelen, and du Bonlay, Marquis 
 de Saint Megrin, de Callonges and d'Archiac, Viscount de Calvignac, 
 baron of the ancient and honourable baronies of Tonneins, Gratteloup, 
 Villeton, la Gruere and Picornet, lord of Larnagol, and Talcoimur, 
 advocate, knight and vavasor of Sarlac, high baron of Guyenne, second 
 baron of Quercy, lieutenant-general of the King's armies, knight of his 
 orders, menin to Monseigneur the late dauphin, first gentleman of the
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 129 
 
 The progress of time, and the confidence with which the 
 King, and the princes his brothers, were inspired by the change 
 of their situation, since the death of Louis XV., had developed 
 their characters. I will endeavour to depict them. 
 
 The features of Louis XVI. were fine though somewhat im- 
 pressed with melancholy ; his walk was heavy and unmajestic ; 
 his person greatly neglected ; his hair, whatever might be the 
 skill of his hair-dresser, was soon in disorder, through his inat- 
 tention to its neatness. His voice, without being harsh, pos- 
 sessed nothing agreeable ; if he grew warm in speaking, he often 
 got above his natural pitch, and uttered shrill sounds. The 
 
 bedchamber of Monseigneur the dauphin, grand master of his ward- 
 robe, formerly governor of his person, and of that of Monseigneur the 
 Count de Provence, governor of the person of Monseigneur the Count 
 d'Artois, first gentleman of his chamber, grandmaster of his wardrobe, 
 and superintendent of his household, which will take place, on Thurs- 
 day the 6th of February, 1772, at ten o'clock in the morning, at the 
 royal and parochial church of Notre Dame de Versailles, where his 
 body will be interred. De Profundis.' 
 
 " It will be observed that this card is the work of studied, well 
 digested, deep, and laborious composition. Its author," adds Grimm, 
 " deserves that the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres should 
 unanimously confer upon him the first vacant place, and register him 
 among its members, as duke, prince, peer, marquis, count, viscount, 
 juveigneur, advocate, knight, vavasor, high baron, second baron, and 
 third baron. It would be well, too, to establish a professorship, the 
 holder of which should do nothing all the year, but explain to the young 
 the card of invitation to the Duke de la Vauguyon's funeral ; without 
 which it is to be feared, that the learning necessary for its perfect com- 
 prehension will be insensibly lost, and the card may become in time 
 the despair of critics." 
 
 The term juveigneur, for instance, is little known. A portioned junior 
 is thus termed ; the Duke d'Orleans is juveigneur of the house of France. 
 This word is perhaps a corruption of the word junior, by which the 
 Caesars of the Lower Empire called those whom they associated with 
 themselves in the empire. But for the card for M. de la Vauguyon's 
 funeral, we should have lost the term juveigneur in the darkness of the 
 times. Note by the Editor.
 
 130 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Abbe* de Radonvilliers,* his preceptor, a learned, mild, and 
 amiable man, had given him, and Monsieur also, a taste for 
 study. The King had continued to instruct himself; he knew 
 the English language perfectly. I have often heard him trans- 
 late some of the most difficult passages in Milton's poem : he 
 was a skilful geographer, and was fond of drawing and colouring 
 maps ; he was perfectly well versed in history, but had not per- 
 haps sufficiently studied the spirit of it. He relished dramatic 
 beauties, and was a judicious critic of them. At Choisy, one 
 day, several ladies strongly expressed their di satisfaction, be- 
 cause the French actors were going to perform one of Moliere's 
 pieces there : the King inquired of them why they disapproved 
 of the choice ? One of them answered, that every one must 
 admit, that Moliere's works were in a very Lad taste ; the King 
 replied, that many things might be found in Moliere contrary 
 to fashion, but that it appeared to him difficult to point out any 
 in bad taste. 
 
 This prince combined with his attainments the qualities of a 
 good husband, a tender father, and an indulgent master. When 
 we think of so many virtues, the years which have elapsed since 
 the barbarities of faction and the misfortunes of France, seem too 
 short to allow us to believe that depravity could ever rise to the 
 dreadful height which it attained in perpetrating the horrible 
 crime of his destruction. 
 
 Unfortunately the King showed too much predilection for the 
 mechanical arts ; masonry and lock-making so delighted him, 
 that he admitted into his private apartment, a common lock-smith 
 with whom he made keys and locks; and his hands, blackened 
 by that sort of work, were often, in my presence, the subject of 
 remonstrances and even reproaches from the Queen, who would 
 have chosen other amusements for the King.j" 
 
 * One of the forty of the French Academy. 
 
 f Louis XVI. saw in the act of lock-making, something which was 
 capable of application to a higher study. He was an excellent geogra- 
 pher. The most valuable and complete instrument for the study of 
 that science, was begun by his orders and under his direction. It was
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 131 
 
 Austere and rigid with regard to himself alone, respecting 
 the laws of the church, the King fulfilled them with scrupu- 
 lous exactness. He fasted and observed abstinence throughout 
 the whole of Lent. He did not wish the Queen to observe these 
 customs with the same strictness. Though he was sincerely 
 pious, the wisdom of the age had disposed his mind to tolera- 
 tion. Modest and simple in his habits, Turgot, Malesherbes and 
 Necker judged, that a prince of such a character would willingly 
 sacrifice the royal prerogative for the solid greatness of his people. 
 His heart, in truth, led him to ideas of reform ; but his prin- 
 ciples, prejudices, and fears, and the clamours of pious and privi- 
 leged persons, intimidated him and made him abandon the plans 
 which his love for the people had suggested. 
 
 Monsieur had more dignity of demeanour than the King ; but 
 his size and corpulency rendered his gait inelegant. He was 
 fond of pageantry and magnificence. He cultivated the belles- 
 lettres, and under borrowed names repeatedly contributed verses, 
 of which he himself was the author, to the Mercury and other 
 papers.* 
 
 an immense globe of copper, which is still in existence, though unfinished, 
 in the Mazarine library. Louis XVI. himself invented and had exe- 
 cuted under his own eyes the ingenious mechanism by which this globe 
 was to be managed. 
 
 A man who asserts, that he entered into his private apartment after 
 the 10th of August, has preserved, respecting the arrangements of his 
 cabinets, books, maps, papers, furniture, and the tools he used, a crowd 
 of details which depict, in a very interesting manner, his tastes, 
 character, occupations, and habits. Such details, are, to the private 
 life of a prince, what a portrait is to his personal likeness, or a fac- 
 simile to his hand-writing. See Historical Illustrations, letter (M). 
 
 Note by the Editor. 
 
 * The prince of whom Madame Campan here speaks, always loved and 
 protected litrature. The judicious favour which he extended to talent, 
 was known to all France. During a tour which Monsieur made through 
 various provinces of the kingdom, he visited Toulouse. After the par- 
 liament had harangued the. prince, says a work of that period, hig 
 royal highness, in order to show particular distinction to literature, 
 received the homage of the Academy of Floral Games, before that of
 
 182 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 His wonderful memory was the handmaid of his wit, furnish- 
 ing him with the happiest quotations. He knew everything by 
 heart, from the finest passages of the Latin classics, to the Latin 
 of all the prayers ; from the works of Racine, to the Vaudeville 
 of " Rose et Colas." 
 
 The Count d'Artois had an agreeable countenance, was well 
 made, active in bodily exercises, lively, sometimes impetuous, 
 fond of pleasure, and very particular in his dress. 
 
 Some happy observations made by him were repeated with 
 pleasure; several of them gave a favourable idea of his heart.* 
 
 the sovereign courts. The Abbe d'Auffreri, counsellor to the parlia- 
 ment, spoke in the name of the Academy, of which he was a member. 
 " It is," said he, "the duty of eloquence and poetry to describe you, 
 Monseigneur, at the age of pleasure, finding your chief delight in retire- 
 ment and study, and sharing that enchanting taste with the august 
 princess whose many virtues form the happiness of your life." At the 
 end of his speech, the orator eulogized the late dauphin, father of the 
 King and his brothers. The prince was affected while he listened to 
 him, and when the Abbe d'Auffreri had done speaking, he approached 
 him, and said with kindness, " I thank the Academy for its feelings in 
 my favour; I have long known its celebrity; and you, sir, confirm 
 the idea I entertained of that body ; it may always rely upon my pro- 
 tection." (Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVI., vol. 2, p. 21 and 22). 
 
 During his stay at Avignon, Monsieur lodged with the Duke de Crillon ; 
 he refused the town-guard which was offered him, saying, "A son of 
 France, under the roof of a Crillon, needs no guard." 
 
 Note by the Editor. 
 
 * In a work of that time, there is to be found a reply which does 
 honour to the prince's humanity. The question was respecting the 
 treatment of prisoners ; the Count d'Artois insisted that their adversity 
 should be respected, and that men who were only accused, should not 
 be made to undergo the treatment of culprits convicted by the laws. 
 Upon this subject, the work alluded to says as follows: 
 
 The Abb6 de Besplas, a celebrated preacher, delivered a sermon 
 before the King, the subject of which was, on the marks of charity in a 
 king. The following passage upon jails, made a most lively impression. 
 
 " Sire, the state of the prisons of your kingdom would draw tears 
 from the most unfeeling persons who should visit them. A place of 
 security cannot, without flagrant injustice, become the abode of despair. 
 Your magistratej endeavour to soften the condition of the unfortunate ;
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 133 
 
 The Parisians liked the free and open air of this prince, as an 
 attribute of the French character, and showed real affection for 
 him. 
 
 The empire that the Queen was gaining over the King's mind, 
 the charms of a society in which Monsieur displayed the graces 
 of his wit, and to which the Count d'Artois gave life by the 
 vivacity of youth, gradually softened that roughness in the cha- 
 racter of Louis XVI., which a better conducted education might 
 have prevented. 
 
 Still this defect showed itself too often, and in spite of his ex- 
 treme simplicity, the King inspired those who had occasion to 
 speak to him, with diffidence. A commendable fear made those 
 about him avoid his abrupt sallies, which were difficult to be fore- 
 seen. Courtiers, submissive in the presence of their sovereign, 
 are only the more ready to caricature him; with little good 
 breeding, they called these answers, which they so much dreaded, 
 les coups de boutoir du Roi.* 
 
 but, deprived of the assistance necessary for the repair of these infected 
 caverns, they can only listen to the complaints of the wretched iu 
 melancholy silence. Yes, sire, I have seen this, and my zeal compels 
 me here, like Paul, to do honour to my ministry ; yes, I have seen pri- 
 soners who, covered with a universal leprosy, arising from the infection 
 of these hideous dens, blessed in our arms, a thousand times, the mo- 
 ment which led them to execution. Great God ! can there be under a 
 good prince, subjects who long for the scaffold ? Blessed be this immor- 
 tal day ! I have fulfilled the wish of my heart, that of depositing this 
 weight of grief in the bosom of the best of monarchs." 
 
 It was observed that the King and his brothers paid the greatest 
 attention to this passage. Indeed the Count d'Artois made an excel- 
 lent reply on the subject of what he had heard. The next day, as he 
 was rising, a selfish and venial courtier, such as they almost all are, 
 was foolish enough to remark that the Abbe" de Besplas had com- 
 plained improperly, of the manner in which the prisoners were treated 
 in the jails, since it might be considered as a part of the punishment 
 which their crimes deserved. The prince then interrupted him, indig- 
 nantly exclaiming, "How is it -known that they are guilty? that is 
 never known till the sentence is passed." Note by the Editor. 
 
 * The literal meaning of the phrase, " coup de boutoir," is a poke from
 
 134 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Methodical in all his habits, the King always went to bed at 
 eleven precisely. One evening the Queen was going with her 
 usual circle to a party, either at the Duke de Duras's or the 
 Princess de Gue"meneVs. The hand of the clock was slyly put 
 forward, to hasten the King's departure to bed, by a few minutes ; 
 ho thought in good earnest that bedtime was come, retired, 
 and found none of his attendants ready to wait on him. This 
 joke became known in all the drawing-rooms of Versailles, and 
 was much disapproved of. Kings have no privacy. Queens have 
 neither closets nor boudoirs. This is a truth that cannot be too 
 strongly impressed upon them. If those who are in immediate 
 attendance upon sovereigns, be not of themselves disposed to 
 transmit their private habits to posterity, the meanest valet will 
 relate what he has seen or heard ; his tales circulate rapidly, and 
 form that alarming public opinion which rises gradually, but 
 keeps increasing, and, at length, attaches to the most august 
 persons, characters which, however often they may be false, are 
 almost always indelible. 
 
 the snout of a boar. Perhaps the English expression, nearest in sig- 
 nfication, is " a rap on the knuckles." Tr.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. .35 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Severe Winter The Princess de Lamballe appointed superintendent of 
 the household The Countess Jules de Polignac appears at Court 
 Portrait of M. de Vaudreuil Duke and Duchess de Duras Fashion- 
 able Games. 
 
 THE winter following the confinement of the Countess d'Ar- 
 tois was very severe : the Queen, recollecting the pleasure which 
 sledge-parties had given her in her childhood, wished to estab- 
 lish similar ones in France. This amusement had already been 
 seen in the court of France ; as was proved by the circumstance 
 that sledges were found in the stables which had been used by 
 the dauphin, the father of Louis XVI., in his youth. Some 
 were constructed for the Queen in a more modern taste. The 
 princes likewise ordered several ; and in a few days there was a 
 tolerable number of these vehicles. They were driven by the 
 princes and noblemen of the court. The noise of the bells and 
 balls with which the harnesses of the horses were furnished 
 the elegance and whiteness of their plumes the variety of 
 forms in the carriages the gold with which they were all orna- 
 mented rendered these parties delightful to the eye. The 
 winter was very favourable to them, the snow remaining on the 
 ground nearly six weeks : the races in the park afforded a plea- 
 sure shared by the spectators.* No one imagined that any 
 blame could attach to so innocent an amusement. But the 
 
 * Louis XVI., touched with the wretched condition of the poor of 
 Versailles during the winter of 1776, had several cart-loads of wood 
 distributed among them. Seeing, one day, a file of those vehicles pass- 
 ing by, while several noblemen were preparing to be drawn swiftly 
 over the ice, he said these memorable words to them : Gentlemen, here 
 are my sledges ! Note by the Editor. 
 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 36 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 party were tempted to extend their rides as far as the Champs 
 Elyse"es ; a few sledges even crossed the boulevards : the ladies 
 being masked, the Queen's enemies did not omit the oppor- 
 tunity of saying, that the Queen had traversed the streets of 
 Paris in a sledge. 
 
 This became a matter of moment. The public discovered in 
 such a fashion, a predilection for the habits of Vienna : and yet 
 sledge-parties were not a new fashion at Versailles. But all 
 that Marie Antoinette did was criticised. Factions formed in 
 courts do not openly carry different insignia, as do those gene- 
 rated by revolutionary convulsions. They are not, however, on 
 that account, the less dangerous for those whom they pursue ; 
 and the Queen was never without a party against her. 
 
 Sledge-driving, which savours of the custom of the northern 
 courts, had no success among the Parisians. The Queen was 
 informed of this ; and although all the sledges were preserved, 
 and several subsequent winters proved favourable to the amuse- 
 ment, she would not pursue it any further. 
 
 It was at the time of the sledge-parties that the Queen became 
 intimate with the Princess de Lamballe, who made her appear- 
 ance in them, wrapped in fur, with all the brilliancy and fresh- 
 ness of the age of twenty : she looked like Spring, peeping from 
 under sable and ermine. Her situation, moreover, rendered her 
 peculiarly interesting : married, when she was scarcely past 
 childhood, to a young prince, who ruined himself by the conta- 
 gious example of the Duke d' Orleans, she had had from the 
 time of her arrival in France, a constant succession of calami- 
 ties. A widow at eighteen, and childless, she lived with mon- 
 sieur the Duke de Penthievre, upon the footing of an adopted 
 daughter. She had the tenderest respect, and attachment for 
 that venerable prince : but the Queen, though doing justice, as 
 well as the princesses, to his virtues, saw that the Duke de Pen- 
 thievre's way of living, whether at Paris or at his country seat, 
 could neither afford his young daughter in-law the amusements 
 of her time of life, nor insure her, for the future, an establish- 
 ment such as she was deprived of by her widowhood. She
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 137 
 
 determined, therefore, to establish her at Versailles; and, for 
 her sake, revived the office of superintendent, which had been 
 discontinued at court from the time of the death of Mademoiselle 
 de Clermont. It is said that Maria Leckzinska had decided that 
 this place should continue vacant; the superintendent having 
 so extensive a power in the houses of Queens, as to be frequently 
 a restraint upon their inclinations. Differences, which soon 
 took place between Marie Antoinette and the Princess de Lam- 
 balle, respecting the official prerogatives of the latter, proved 
 that the wife of Louis XV. had acted judiciously in abolishing 
 the office ; but a kind of petty treaty, made between the Queen 
 and the princess, smoothed all difficulties. The blame of too 
 obstinate an assertion of claims, fell upon a secretary of the 
 superintendent's, who had been her adviser; and everything 
 was so arranged, that a firm and lively friendship reigned be- 
 tween these two princesses, down to the disastrous period which 
 terminated their career.* 
 
 Notwithstanding the enthusiasm which the splendour, graces, 
 and goodness of the Queen generally inspired, silent intrigues 
 continued in operation against her. A very short time after the 
 accession of Louis XVI. to the throne, the minister of the 
 King's household was informed that a most offensive libel 
 against the Queen was about to appear. The lieutenant of 
 police deputed a man, named Goupil, an inspector of police, to 
 bring to light this libel : he came, soon after, to say that he had 
 found out the place where the work was being printed, and that 
 it was at a country house, near Yverdun. He had already got 
 possession of two sheets, which contained the most atrocious 
 calumnies, but conveyed with a degree of art which might make 
 them very dangerous to the Queen's reputation. This Goupil 
 said that he oould obtain the rest, but that he should want a 
 considerable sum for that purpose. Three thousand louis were 
 given him, and very soon afterwards he brought the whole 
 manuscript, and all that had been printed, to the lieutenant of 
 
 * See the historical illustrations given by Madame Campan, respect- 
 ing the Queen's household. (No. 1.) Note by the Editor.
 
 138 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 police. He received a thousand louis more as a reward for his 
 address and zeal ; and a much more important office was about 
 to be given him, when another spy, envious of Goupil's good 
 fortune, gave information that Goupil himself was the author of 
 the libel ; that, ten years before, he had been put into the Bice- 
 tre for theft ; and that Madame Goupil had only been -three 
 years out of the Salpetriere, where she had been placed under 
 another name. This Madame Goupil was very pretty and very 
 intriguing ; she had found means to form an intimacy with Car- 
 dinal de Rohan, whom she led, it is said, to hope for a recon- 
 ciliation with the Queen. All this affair was hushed up, and no 
 account of it got abroad : but it shows that it was the Queen's 
 fate to be incessantly attacked by the meanest and most odious 
 machinations. 
 
 Another woman, named Cahoutte de Villers, whose husband 
 held the office of one of the treasurers of France, being very irre- 
 gular in conduct, and of a scheming turn of mind, conceived the 
 mad wish to appear, in the eyes of her friends at Paris, as a 
 person in favour at court, whither she was not entitled to go 
 either by birth or office. During the latter years of the life of 
 Louis XV., she had made many dupes, and picked up consider- 
 able sums by passing herself off for the King's mistress. The 
 fear of irritating Madame du Barry was, according to herself, 
 the only thing which prevented her enjoying that title openly : 
 she came regularly to Versailles, kept herself concealed in a 
 furnished lodging, and her dupes imagined she was called to 
 court by secret motives. This woman formed the scheme of 
 getting admission, if possible, to the presence of the Queen, or 
 at least of establishing probabilities which might enable her to 
 cause it to be believed. She took, for her lover, Gabriel de 
 Saint Charles, intendant of her majesty's finances; an office, the 
 privileges of which were confined to the right of entering the 
 Queen's apartment on a Sunday. Madame de Villers came 
 every Saturday to Versailles with M. de Saint Charles, and 
 lodged in his apartment ; M. Campan was there several times ; 
 she minted tolerably well ; she requested him to do her the
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 139 
 
 favour to present to the Queen a portrait of her majesty which 
 she had just copied. M. Campan knew the woman's conduct, 
 and refused her. A few days after, he saw on her majesty's 
 couch the portrait which he had declining presenting to her ; 
 the Queen thought it ill painted, and gave orders that it should 
 be carried back to the Princess de Lamballe, who had sent it to 
 her. Madame de Villers had succeeded in her project through 
 the medium of the princess. The ill success of the portrait did 
 not deter the scheming woman from following up the design she 
 had formed, of making it believed that she was admitted to an 
 intimacy with the Queen : she easily procured, through M. de 
 Saint Charles, patents and orders signed by her majesty; she 
 then set about imitating her writing, and composed a great 
 number of notes and letters, as if written by her majesty, in the 
 tenderest and most familiar style. For several months, she 
 showed them as great secrets to several of her particular friends. 
 Afterwards, she made the Queen appear to write to her, as be- 
 fore, to procure her various fancy articles. Under the pretext 
 of wishing to execute her majesty's commissions faithfully, she 
 gave these letters to the tradesmen to read; and succeeded in 
 having it said, in several houses, that the Queen had a particu- 
 lar kindness for her. She then enlarged her scheme, and repre- 
 sented the Queen as desiring her to borrow 200,000 francs which 
 she had need of, but which she did not wish to ask of the King, 
 from his private funds. This letter being shown to M. Beranger, 
 farmer-general, took effect; he thought himself fortunate in 
 being able to render this assistance to his sovereign, and lost no 
 time in sending the 200,000 francs to Madame de Villers. This 
 first step was followed by some doubts, which he communicated 
 to people better informed than himself, of what was passing at 
 court ; and who added to his uneasiness : he then went to M. 
 de Sartine, who unravelled the whole plot. The woman was 
 sent to Saint Pelagie , and the unfortunate husband was ruined, 
 by replacing the sum borrowed, and paying for the jewels fraud- 
 ulently purchased in the Queen's name : the forged letters were 
 sent to her majesty; I compared them, in her presence, with 
 13*
 
 140 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the real handwriting, and the only distinguishable difference 
 was a little more regularity in the disposition of the letters. 
 
 This trick, discovered and punished with prudence and cool- 
 ness, produced no more sensation out of doors, than that of the 
 inspector Groupil. 
 
 If the spirit of independence, spread through the nation, had 
 already shorn the throne of some of its dazzling beams ; if a 
 party, formed in the very bosom of the court, was struggling to 
 overthrow an Austrian princess, without reflecting that the blows 
 aimed at her, equally tended to shake the throne itself; it will, 
 I must confess, be urged that it was the duty of that princess to 
 be circumspect in her every step, and to render her conduct 
 unassailable : but let not her youth, her inexperience, and her 
 friendless situation, be forgotten. No ; she was not guilty ; the 
 Abbe de Vermond was always the Queen's sole guide ; at an 
 age, and invested with a right to represent to her how important 
 the consequences of her slightest levities might be, still he did 
 not make that representation ; and she continued, while on the 
 throne, to seek the pleasures of private society, with increasing 
 eagerness. 
 
 A year after the nomination of the Princess de Lamballe to 
 the post of superintendent of the Queen's household, balls and 
 quadrilles gave rise to the intimacy of her majesty with the 
 Countess Jules de Polignac. This lady really interested Marie 
 Antoinette. She was not rich, and generally lived upon her 
 estate, at Claye. The Queen was astonished at not having seen 
 her at court earlier. The confession that her want of fortune 
 had even prevented her appearance at the celebration of the 
 marriages of the princes, added to the interest which she had 
 inspired. 
 
 The Queen was full of sensibility, and took delight in coun- 
 teracting the injustice of fortune. The countess was induced to 
 come to court by her husband's sister, Madame Diana de Polig- 
 nac. who had been appointed lady of honour to the Countess 
 d'Artois. The Countess Jules was truly fond of a tranquil life; 
 the impression she made at court affected her but little ; she felt
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 
 
 only the attachment manifested for her by the Queen. I had 
 occasion to see her at the very commencement of her favour at 
 court ; she repeatedly passed an hour with me, while waiting for 
 the Queen. She conversed with me freely and ingenuously, 
 about all that she saw of honour, and at the same time of 
 danger, in the kindness of which she was the object. The 
 Queen sought for the sweets of friendship ; but can this gratifi- 
 cation, so rare in any rank, exist at all in its purity between a 
 Queen and a subject, when they are surrounded, moreover, by 
 snares laid by the artifices of courtiers ? This very pardonable 
 error was fatal to the happiness of Marie Antoinette, for happi- 
 ness is not to be found in illusion. 
 
 The retiring character of the Countess Jules, afterwards 
 Duchess de Polignac, cannot be spoken of too favourably; I 
 always considered her the victim of an elevation which she 
 never sought : but if her heart was incapable of forming ambi- 
 tious projects, her family and friends beheld their own fortune 
 in hers, and endeavoured to fix the favour of the Queen 
 permanently. 
 
 The Countess Diana, sister of M. de Polignac, and the Baron 
 de Besenval and M. de Vaudreuil, particular friends of the 
 Polignac family, made use of means, the success of which was 
 infallible. One of my friends (the Count Demoustier, who was 
 in their secret) came to tell me that Madame de Polignac was 
 about to quit Versailles suddenly ; that she would take leave of 
 the Queen only in writing ; that the Countess Diana and M. de 
 Vaudreuil had dictated her letter, and that the whole affair was 
 arranged for the purpose of stimulating the hitherto unprofitable 
 attachment of Marie Antoinette. The next day, when I went 
 up to the palace, I found the Queen with a letter in her hand, 
 which she was reading with much emotion : it was the letter 
 from the Countess Jules; the Queen showed it to me. The 
 countess expressed in it her grief at leaving a princess who had 
 loaded her with kindness. The narrowness of her fortune dic- 
 tated the necessity of her doing so ; but she was much more 
 strongly impelled by the fear that the Queen's friendship, after
 
 142 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 having raised up dangerous enemies against her, might abandon 
 her to their hatred, and to the regret of having lost the august 
 favour of which she was then the object. 
 
 This step produced the full effect that had been expected from 
 it. A young and susceptible Queen cannot long bear the idea 
 of contradiction. She determined more firmly than ever, to 
 settle the Countess Jules near herself, by making such a provi- 
 sion for her as should place her beyond anxiety. Her disposition 
 vra* just what the Queen liked : she had merely natural talents, 
 no presumption, no affectation of knowledge. She was of the 
 middling size; her complexion very fair, her eyebrows and hair 
 dark brown, her teeth of dazzling whiteness, her smile enchant- 
 ing, and her whole person beaming with grace. She disliked 
 dress, and was seen almost always in an undress, remarkable 
 only for its neatness and good taste ; nothing upon her appeared 
 placed with design, nor even with care. I do not think I ever 
 once saw diamonds about her, even at the highest pitch of her 
 fortune, and when she enjoyed the rank of duchess at court : I 
 always thought that her sincere attachment for the Queen, as 
 much as her love of simplicity, induced her to avoid everything 
 that might raise a belief of her being a wealthy favourite. She 
 had not one of the failings which usually accompany that title. 
 She loved the persons who shared the Queen's affections, and 
 was entirely free from jealousy. Marie Antoinette flattered 
 herself that the Countess Jules and the Princess de Lamballe 
 would be her especial friends, and that she should possess a 
 society formed of her own taste. " I will receive them in my 
 closet, or at Trianon," said she : "I will enjoy the comforts of 
 private life, which exist not for us, unless we have the resolution 
 to secure them for ourselves." My memory faithfully recalls to 
 me all the charms which so pleasing an illusion held out to the 
 Queen, in a scheme, of which she fathomed neither the impos- 
 sibility nor the dangers. The happiness she thought to secure 
 was only destined to cause her vexation. All those courtiers 
 who were not admitted into this intimacy, became so many 
 jealous and vindictive enemies.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 143 
 
 It was necessary to make a suitable provision for the ccmniess. 
 The place of first equerry, in reversion after the Count de 1'esse", 
 being given to Count Jules unknown to the holder, displeased 
 the family of Noailles. This family had just sustained another 
 mortification; the appointment of the Princess de Lamballe 
 having, in some degree, rendered the resignation of the Countess 
 de Noailles necessary, whose husband was thereupon made a 
 marshal of France. The Princess de Lamballe, although she 
 did not quarrel with the Queen, was alarmed at the establish- 
 ment of the Countess Jules at court, and did not form, as her 
 majesty had hoped, a part of that intimate society which was 
 composed in succession, of Mesdames Jules and Diana de Polig- 
 nac, D'Andlau, and De Chalon; and Messieurs De Guignes, 
 Coigny, D'Adhemar, De Besenval, lieutenant-colonel of the 
 Swiss, De Polignac, De Vaudreuil, and De Guiche : the Prince 
 de Ligne, and the Duke of Dorset, the English ambassador, 
 were also admitted. 
 
 It was a long time before the Countess Jules maintained any 
 great state at court. The Queen contented herself with giving 
 her a fine suite of apartments at the top of the marble staircase. 
 The salary of first equerry, the trifling emoluments derived from 
 M. de Polignac' s regiment, added to their slender patrimony, 
 and perhaps some small pension, at that time formed the whole 
 fortune of the favourite. I never saw the Queen make her a 
 present of real worth ; I was even astonished one day, at hearing 
 her majesty mention, with pleasure, that the Countess had gained 
 ten thousand francs in the lottery. " She was in great want of 
 it/' added the Queen. 
 
 Thus it will be seen, that the Polignacs were not settled at 
 court in any degree of splendour which could justify the mur- 
 muring of others. The Noailles, however, had perhaps reason 
 to feel hurt on the occasion ; they had some right to the rever- 
 sion after the Count de Tess6 : the restoration of the office of 
 superintendent had been likewise mortifying to the Countess de 
 Noailles, who, finding a superior set over her, had retired. This 
 family, which had great weight at court, was not, however, the
 
 144 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 only one which the advancement of the Count de Polignac in- 
 censed against Marie Antoinette. Whatever one courtier sees 
 obtained by others, always appears to him a spoliation of his 
 own property that is a rule. In this instance, however, tho 
 substantial part of the favours bestowed upon the Polignucs 
 was less envied, than the intimacy which was about to be esta- 
 blished, between them and their dependants, and the Queen. In 
 the society of the Countess Jules, was seen an opening to the 
 acquisition of favour, places, and embassies. Those who had no 
 hope of introduction into that society, were irritated. 
 
 Madame de Polignac' s drawing-room did Marie Antoinette 
 much mischief; it increased the malice of her enemies. How- 
 ever, at the time I speak of, the society around the Countess 
 Jules, fully engaged in strengthening the Queen's attachment to 
 her, was far from interfering in serious matters, to which the 
 young Queen, indeed, was yet a stranger. To gratify her was 
 the leading object of all the favourite's friends. The Marquis 
 de Vaudreuil was a conspicuous member of the circle of the 
 Countess Jules ; he was a shining wit, the friend and protector 
 of the fine arts. He had a long list of proteges among men 
 of letters, and celebrated artists.* 
 
 * M. de Vaudreuil was passionately fond of the arts and of litera- 
 ture : he preferred encouraging them as an amateur, rather than ns a 
 man of consequence. He gave a dinner every week to a party consist- 
 ing only of literary characters and artists. The evening was spent in a 
 saloon furnished with musical instruments, pencils, colours, brushes, 
 and pens ; and every one composed, or painted, or wrote, according to his 
 taste or genius. M. de Vaudreuil himself pursued several of the fine 
 arts. His voice was very pleasing, and he was a good musician. These 
 accomplishments made him sought after, from his earliest entrance into 
 society. The first time he visited Madame la Marechale de Luxembourg, 
 that lady said to him after supper : " I am told, sir, that you sing very 
 well. I should be delighted to hear you. But if you do oblige me so 
 far, pray do not sing any fine piece no cantata but some street ballad 
 just a mere street song. I like a natural style something lively 
 something cheerful." M. de Vaudreuil begged leave to sing a street 
 ballad then much in vogue. He did not know that Madame la Mare- 
 chale de Luxembourg was, before her widowhood, Countess de Boufflers.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 145 
 
 The Baron de Besenval preserved all the plainness of the 
 Swiss, to which he added all the cunning of a French courtier. 
 The fifty years he had numbered, and the gray hairs on his head, 
 made him enjoy among women all that confidence inspired by 
 
 He sang out with a loud and sonorous voice the first line of the couplet, 
 beginning, "When Bouffiers was first seen at court." The company 
 immediately began coughing and sneezing. M. de Vaudreuil went on. 
 "Venus' self shone less beauteous than she did." The noise and con- 
 fusion increased. But after the third line, "To please her all eagerly 
 sought," M. de Vaudreuil, perceiving that all eyes were fixed upon 
 him, paused. " Pray go on, sir," said Madame la Marechale, singing 
 the last line herself: "And too well in his turn each succeeded." M. 
 de Besenval's remarks respecting Madame de Luxembourg render the 
 anecdote plausible. But perhaps, in such a delicate dilemma, she may 
 be considered as having given a proof of presence of mind, rather than 
 of impudence.* 
 
 The Marquis de Gouffier, who was present on this occasion, tells the story in a 
 very different way. According to his version, the conversation turned on old Time's 
 ravages on beauty, when M. de Vaudreuil said, turning towards Madame de Luxem- 
 bourg, "As to you, madame, he spared you we still see that beauty which turned 
 all the heads at court, and has been celebrated by our best poets." " Yes," said the 
 old lady gayly, " I remember when I first came out, there were a few songs written 
 in my praise there was this, for instance " and she began singing : 
 
 " When Boufflers was first seen at court, 
 Venus' self shone less beauteous than she did. 
 To please her all eagerly sought" 
 
 Here she stopped, and did not give the last line, 
 
 "And too well in his turn each succeeded." 
 
 << Go on, Madame la Marechale," said De Vaudreuil. " Ah !" said she smiling, " all 
 that was so long ago, that I remember no more of it." 
 
 The anecdote, thus told, clears both Vaudreuil and the lady, of the imputation of 
 impudence cast upon them by the French editors. English Editor. 
 
 M. de Vaudreuil succeeded well in the world by his wit and accomplishments. 
 With women, his conversation was very delightful and amusing, if we may credit 
 an observation of the Princess d'Henin, recorded by Madame Genlis, in her Souve- 
 nirs de Felicie : 
 
 " I saw Le Kain giving' a lesson to a young theatrical debutant to-day. In the 
 midst of his speech, the Tyro seized the arm of his princess. Le'Kain, displeased at 
 the action, said to him, ' Sir, if you wish to appear in earnest, you must seem to be 
 afraid of touching even the dress of the object of your affections.' 
 
 "What feeling, what delicate tact, this observation shows. This inestimable 
 actor's performance always shows these qualities. Well might Madame d'Henin 
 say, ' I am acquainted with but two men who know how to converse with females 
 Le Kain and M. de Vaudreuil.' " Note by the Editor.
 
 146 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 maturity of age, although he had not quite given up the thoughts 
 of love intrigues. He talked of his native mountains with 
 enthusiasm. He would willingly, at any time, sing the " Ranz 
 des vaches" with tears in his eyes, and was the best story-teller 
 in the Countess Jules's circle. The last new song, the repartee 
 of the day, and the ordinary little tattling tales, were the sole 
 topics of conversation in the Queen's parties. Learning was 
 proscribed in them. The Countess Diana, more inclined to 
 literary pursuits than her sister-in-law, one day recommended 
 her to read the Iliad and Odyssey. The latter replied laughing, 
 that she was perfectly acquainted with the Greek poet, and said, 
 to prove it, 
 
 Homere etait aveugle et jouait du hautbois.* 
 Homer was blind and played on the hautboy. 
 
 * This lively repartee of the Duchess de Polignac, is a droll imitation 
 of a line in the Mercure Galant. In the quarrel scene, one of the law- 
 yers says to his brother quill 
 
 Ton-plrt e"tait aveugle et jouait du hautbois. 
 Your father was blind and played on the hautboy. 
 
 It was impossible that the Duchess de Polignac, with her wit and re- 
 fined taste, should do otherwise than highly value learning; but the 
 following anecdote conveys a poor idea of the education of some of the 
 men admitted into her society: 
 
 " In 1781 the Duchess de Polignac was pregnant ; and in order to be 
 nearer at hand to pay her respects to the Queen, she requested Madame 
 de Boufflers to let her her house, called D'Auteuil, and famous for its 
 gardens a F Anglais. Madame de Boufflers, who was very fond of her 
 country house, endeavoured to remain in it without disobliging the 
 duchess, and replied in the following lines : 
 
 Around you all are sedulous to please ; 
 Your tranquil days roll on in cloudless ease ; 
 Empire to you is but the source of joy, 
 Or if some grief awhile the charm destroy, 
 Attentive courtiers, with assiduous art, 
 Banish the transient feeling from your heart. 
 Far otherwise with me ; if sorrows press, 
 Here, lonely, no one shares in my distress ; 
 My only solace are these fragrant flowers, 
 Whose rich perfumes beguile my heavy hours.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 147 
 
 The Queen found this sort of humour very much to her taste, 
 and said that no pedant had ever been her friend. 
 
 The splendour of the house of Polignac was not at its height, 
 until several years after the period of which I have just spoken; 
 and the Queen did not make a practice of spending a part of 
 each day at the house of the duchess, until the latter had suc- 
 ceeded the Princess de Gruemenee, in the capacity of governess 
 of the children of France, and the duke had become both super- 
 intendent of the post, and first equerry. 
 
 Before the Queen fixed her assemblies at Madame de Polig- 
 nac' s, she occasionally passed the evening at the house of the 
 Duke and Duchess de Durasj they had always a brilliant party 
 of young persons to meet her. They introduced a taste for tri- 
 fling games, such as question and answer, guerre panpan, blind- 
 man's buff, and especially a game called descampativos. 
 
 The people of Paris, continually criticising, and, at the same 
 time, constantly imitating the practices of the court, were 
 infected with the mania for these childish sports. The rage for 
 descampativos and guerre panpan, extended to every house 
 where many young women were assembled. 
 
 Madame de Genlis, in one of her plays, written with an inten- 
 tion to sketch the follies of the day, speaks of these famous 
 d:scampativof and also of the fashion of making a friend, 
 called the inseparable, until a whim, or the slightest indiffer- 
 ence, produced a total rupture. 
 
 " Madame de Polignac showed these lines, and her flatterers, thinking 
 they were written by Madame de Boufflers, pronounced them good for 
 nothing. Of course the decision of the duchess's friends was carried to 
 Madame laMarechale. "I am sorry then," said she, " for poor Racine ; 
 for the lines are his." 
 
 In fact the lines will be found in Britannicus, Act 2, Scene 3. They 
 are addressed to Nero by Junia. Madame de Boufflers had merely 
 made a slight alteration in the four last lines, where the name of 
 Britannicus is introduced. 
 
 We take this anecdote from the Secret Correspondence. 
 
 Note by the Editor 
 
 VOL. I. 14
 
 148 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Duke de Choiseul returns to Court The Queen obtains a pension 
 of 1200 francs for Chamfort She invites Gluck to France and patron- 
 izes music successfully Encouragement given to the Art of Printing 
 Turgot : M. de Saint Germain Amusement at Court Particulars 
 of the Household Masked Balls at the Opera The Queen goes there 
 one day in a Fiacre; slanderous reports upon the subject The Heron 
 plume Portrait of the Duke de Lauzun The Queen's attachment to 
 the Princess de Lamballe and the Duchess de Polignac Anecdote of 
 the Abbe dc Vermond. 
 
 THE Duke de Choiseul made bis reappearance at court, on the 
 ceremony of the King's coronation. From the general wishes 
 of the public on the subject, his friends conceived hopes of see- 
 ing him again in administration, or in the council of state ; but 
 these hopes were only of short duration. The opposite party 
 was too firmly fixed at Versailles, and the young Queen's influ- 
 ence was outweighed, in the mind of the King, by long-standing 
 and lasting prejudices : she therefore gave up, for ever, her 
 attempt to reinstate the duke. Thus this princess, who has 
 been described as so ambitious, and so strenuously supporting 
 the interest of the house of Austria, failed twice in the only 
 scheme which could forward the views constantly attributed to 
 her : and spent the whole of her reign, down to the earliest 
 shocks of the revolution, surrounded by her own enemies and 
 those of her house. 
 
 Marie Antoinette took but little pains to promote literature 
 and the fine arts. She had suffered some vexations, in conse- 
 quence of her having ordered the performance of the " Conne- 
 table de Bourbon," on the celebration of the marriage of Madame 
 Clotilde, the King's sister, with the Prince of Piedmont. The
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 119 
 
 court, and the people of Paris, censured, as indecorous, the per- 
 formance of a piece in which such parts were assigned to charac- 
 ters bearing the names of the reigning family, and of that with 
 which the new alliance was formed.* The reading of this piece 
 by the Count de Guibert in the Queen's closet, had produced in 
 her majesty's circle, that sort of enthusiasm, which prevents all 
 sober and judicious criticism. She promised she would have no 
 more readings. Yet at the request of M. de Cubieres, the King's 
 equerry, the Queen agreed to hear the reading of a comedy, 
 written by his brother. She collected her intimate friends, 
 Messieurs de Coigny, De Vaudreuil, De Besenval, and Mes- 
 dames de Polignac, De Chalon, &c., and to increase the number 
 of judges, she admitted the two Parnys, the Chevalier de Ber- 
 tin,f my father-in-law, and myself. Mole| read for the author. 
 I never could satisfy myself by what magic the skilful reader 
 gained our unanimous approbation of a work equally bad and 
 ridiculous. Surely the delightful voice of Mole", by awakening 
 our recollection of the dramatic beauties of the French stage, 
 prevented the wretched lines of Derat Cubieres from striking on 
 our ears. I can assert that the words beautiful! beautiful! re- 
 peatedly interrupted the reader. The piece was admitted for 
 performance at Fontainebleau ; and, for the first time, the King 
 had the curtain dropped before the end of the play. It was 
 called the Dramomane or Dramarturge. All the characters 
 died of poison mixed in a pie. The Queen, highly disconcerted 
 at having recommended this absurd production, resolved once 
 
 * The Constable de Bourbon was not, it must be admitted, a fit 
 piece for performance before all the French princes. It might also 
 create some surprise, if the whole court should be found approving a 
 composition, in which the conne"table of all things desires : 
 
 " The rare pleasure of humbling a King." 
 
 } The Chevalier de Parny was already known by his heroic poems, 
 and the Chevalier de Bertin by some well received verses. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 J An actor, who was the delight of the Theatre Fra^aise. He pre- 
 cecled Fleury, and took the same line of character. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan
 
 160 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 more never to hear another reading ; and this time she kept her 
 word. 
 
 The tragedy of Mustapha and Zeangir, by M. de Chamfort, 
 was highly successful at the court theatre, at Fontainebleau. 
 The Queen procured the author a pension of 1200 francs, but 
 his play failed on being performed at Paris. 
 
 The spirit of opposition which prevailed in that city, delighted 
 in annulling the decisions of the court. The Queen determined 
 never more to give any marked countenance to new dramatic 
 works. She reserved her patronage for musical composers alone, 
 and, in a few years, their art arrived at a degree of perfection it 
 had never before attained in France. 
 
 It was solely to gratify the Queen, that the manager of the 
 Opera collected the first company of comic actors at Paris. 
 Gluck, Picciui, and Sacchini, were brought there in succession. 
 These eminent composers, and particularly the first, were treated 
 with great distinction at court. Immediately on his arrival in 
 France, Gluck was admitted to the Queen's toilet, and she never 
 ceased talking to him all the time he remained with her. She 
 asked him one day, whether he had nearly brought his grand 
 opera of Armida to a conclusion, and whether it pleased him. 
 Gluck replied very coolly, in his German accent, " Madame, it 
 will soon be finished, and really it will be sublime." His opinion, 
 thus roundly expressed, was confirmed ; for surely the lyric 
 stage never witnessed a more effective piece. There was a great 
 outcry against the confidence with which the composer had spoken 
 of his own production.* The Queen defended him warmly : she 
 
 * Modesty was not one of Gluck's virtues. Madame de Genlis, in 
 her Souvenirs, says, that he spoke of Piccini judiciously and plainly. 
 " One cannot help feeling," adds she, " that he is equitable without 
 ostentation. However, he said yesterday, that if Piccini's Roland suc- 
 ceeds, he icill do it over again. This remark is striking, but it is of a 
 nature that will never please me. It is so much more a proof of feeling, 
 to speak always with diffidence!" 
 
 Gluck often had to deal with self-sufficiency, at least equal to his 
 own. He was very reluctant to introduce long ballets into Iphigenia. 
 Vestris deeply regretted that the opera was not terminated by a char
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 151 
 
 insisted that he could not be ignorant of the merit of his works ; 
 that he well knew they were generally admired, and that no 
 doubt he was fearful lest a modesty, merely dictated by polite- 
 ness, should look like affectation in him. The Queen did not 
 confine her admiration to the lofty style of the French and Ita- 
 lian operas; our comic opera also pleased her much. She 
 greatly valued Gretry's music, so well adapted to the spirit and 
 feeling of the words, that time has not yet diminished its charm. 
 It is known that a great deal of the poetry set to music by 
 G retry, is by Marmontcl. The day after the first performance 
 of Zemira and Azor, Marmontel and Gretry were presented to 
 the Queen, in the gallery of Fontaincbleau, as she was passing 
 through it to go to mass. The Queen addressed all her compli- 
 ments on the success of the new opera to Gretry; told him, 
 that during the night, she had dreamed of the enchanting effect 
 of the trio by Zemira's father and sisters behind the magic mir- 
 ror : having said this, she left them. Gretry, in a transport of 
 joy, took Marmontel in his arms. "Ah ! my friend," cried he, 
 " excellent music may be made of this" " And execrable 
 words," coolly observed Marmontel, to whom her majesty had 
 not addressed a single word.* 
 
 conne, in which that god of dance might display all his power. He 
 complained to Gluck about it. Gluck, who treated his art just as it 
 deserves, would make no other reply, than that, in so interesting a sub- 
 ject, capering and dancing would be misplaced. Being pressed another 
 time by Vestris, on the same subject, "A chaconne! a chaconne!" 
 roared out the enraged musician, "we must describe the Greeks; and 
 had the Greeks chaconnes ?" "What? bad they not ?" returned the 
 astonished dancer; "faith, then, so much the worse for them!" 
 
 Note by the Editor. 
 
 * All authors, whether poets or musicians, attached great importance 
 to the performance of their works, upoa the stage of Fontainebleau, 
 Grimm gi vea us the key to this. 
 
 " It is to be observed, that the court almost invariably makes a pre- 
 sent to the authors of the pieces performed at Fontainebleau, and, which 
 is a matter of still greater consequence, those pieces, being no longer 
 subject to the usual forms, may be acted at Paris, immediately after 
 their performance at court. To this advantage may be attributed tho 
 
 14*
 
 152 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Queen had no taste for pictures. The most indifferent 
 artists were permitted to have the honour of painting her. A 
 full-length portrait representing Marie Antoinette in all the 
 pomp of royalty, was exhibited in the gallery of Versailles. 
 This picture, which was intended for the court of Vienna, and 
 executed by a man who does not deserved to be named, dis- 
 gusted all people of taste. It seemed as if this art, which ia 
 justly placed in the foremost rank of the fine arts, had, in 
 France, retrograded several centuries. True it is, that Vanloo 
 and Boucher had so corrupted the style of the French school, 
 that, with eyes accustomed to look only at the foreign and 
 native masterpieces which now surround us, we can scarcely 
 believe, that Boucher's paintings could have been objects of 
 admiration at a period so near the age of Louis XIV. 
 
 The Queen had not that enlightened judgment, or even that 
 mere taste, which in princes is sufficient to enable them to 
 develop and protect great talents. She confessed frankly that 
 she saw no merit in any portrait, beyond the likeness. When 
 she went to the Louvre, on the exhibition of the pictures, she 
 would run hastily over all the little imitative subjects, and come 
 out, as she acknowledged, without having once raised her eyes 
 to the grander compositions. 
 
 There is no good portrait of the Queen, save that by Werth- 
 muller, chief painter to the King of Sweden, which was sent to 
 
 importance attached to the privilege of being first judged of upon a 
 stage where the result, always uncertain, is never considered as de- 
 finitively pronounced ; for it is agreed, that an appeal lies to the public 
 of Paris, from the judgments pronounced by the courtly public. 
 
 " And yet," continues Grimm, " it cannot be denied that the manner 
 of judging adopted at court, is very different from what it formerly 
 was, now that it is allowable to applaud there as at other theatres. 
 Formerly it was usual to listen in profound silence, and that silence, 
 while it manifested much respect for the presence of their majesties, 
 left a vast uncertainty as to the feelings of the majority of the audience. 
 Since the Queen has permitted this important point of etiquette to be 
 overlooked, it very seldom happens, that the public of Paris fails to 
 confirm the decisions at Fontainebleau." Note by the Editor,
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 153 
 
 Stockholm ; and that by Madame Le Brun, which was saved 
 from the revolutionary fury by the commissioners for the care 
 of the furniture at Versailles. In the composition of the latter 
 picture, there reigns a striking analogy to that of Henrietta of 
 France, the wife of the unfortunate Charles the First, painted 
 by Vandyck. Like Marie Antoinette, she is seated, surrounded 
 by her children, and that resemblance adds to the melancholy 
 interest raised by this beautiful production. 
 
 In admitting, with that candour which I will never lose sight 
 of, that the Queen gave no direct encouragement to any art but 
 that of music, I should be wrong to pass over in silence the 
 patronage conferred by her and the princes, brothers of the King, 
 on the art of printing.* 
 
 To Marie Antoinette we are indebted for a splendid quarto 
 
 * The King looked with interest on the productions of an art so ser- 
 viceable to literature. In 1790, that prince gave a proof of his particu- 
 lar good-will to the bookselling trade. The following particulars of 
 this transaction are found in a work which appeared about that time. 
 
 " A company consisting of the first Parisian booksellers, being on the 
 eve of stopping payment, succeeded in laying before the King a state- 
 ment of their distressed situation. The monarch was affected by it ; 
 he condescended to take from the civil list, the sum of which the 
 society stood in immediate need, and became security for the repayment 
 of the remainder of the 1,200,000 livrcs, which they wanted to borrow. 
 Louis XVI. wrote with his own hand the following letter to M. Necker, 
 at that time his minister of finance : 
 
 " ' The interest I take in the welfare of this society, and of the nu- 
 merous workmen they employ, as well in the country as in Paris, and 
 who would have been out of work without prompt assistance (the 
 caisse d'escompte, and other capitalists, to whom they have made appli- 
 cation, being unable to help them), has induced me to advance them, 
 as a loan out of the funds of my civil list, the 50,000 crowns which they 
 wanted indispensably on the 31st of last month. The same motive leads 
 me to secure upon the same fund, such sums as they may be able to 
 procure, in order, with the 50,000 crowns which I have advanced them, 
 to make up the sum of 1,200,000 livres, to be repaid in ten years, in- 
 cluding my advance : for the repayment of which I fix no particular 
 time. Saint Cloud, the 4th August, 1790. (Signed) Louis.'" 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 154 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 edition of the works of Metastasio; to Monsieur the King's 
 brother, for a quarto Tasso, embellished with engravings after 
 Cochin ; and to the Count d' Artois, for a small collection of 
 select works, which is considered one of the chef-d'ceuvres of the 
 celebrated Didot's press. 
 
 In 1775, on the death of the Marechal du Muy, the ascendancy 
 of the sect of innovators occasioned the call of M. de Saint Ger- 
 main to court, that the important post of minister at war might 
 be intrusted to him. His first care was the abolition of the 
 King's military household establishment, which had been an 
 imposing and effectual rampart round the sovereign power. 
 
 It is to be observed, that at the period when the Chancellor 
 Maupeou obtained the consent of Louis XV. to the destruction 
 of the parliament, and the banishment of all the ancient magis- 
 trates, the mousguetaircs were charged with the execution of 
 the commission for this purpose ; and that at the stroke of 
 midnight, the presidents and members were all arrested, each 
 by two mousquetaires. 
 
 In the spring of 1755, a popular insurrection had taken 
 place, in consequence of the high price of bread. M. Turgot's 
 new regulation, which permitted unlimited trade in corn, was 
 either its cause or the pretence for it;* and the King's household 
 troops had, upon that occasion, contributed mainly to the resto- 
 ration of public tranquillity. 
 
 A great number of persons, enlightened by the disastrous 
 events at the end of the reign of Louis XVI., have suspected 
 M. de St. Germain of a treacherous confederacy in favour of 
 schemes, formed long beforehand, it is true, by the enemies of 
 good order; but by what fatality was the Queen drawn in to 
 
 * Economy and freedom "were M. Turgot's two principles. At court 
 he insisted chiefly on the application of the former. His numerous re- 
 trenchments offended the nobles and clergy. 
 
 A female relative of the minister once asked a bishop, whether it was 
 not allowable to keep Easter, and the Jubilee at the same time. " Why, 
 madam," replied the prelate, "we live in economical times perhaps, 
 we had better do so." Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 155 
 
 promote such objects ? I could never discover the true cause 
 of it, unless indeed in the marked favour shown to the captains 
 and officers of the body-guards, who, in consequence of the 
 reduction, became the only soldiers of their rank intrusted 
 with the safety of the sovereign ; or else in the Queen's strong 
 prejudice against the Duke d'Aiguillon, then commander of the 
 light-horse. M. de Saint Germain, however, retained fifty gen- 
 darmes and fifty light-horse, to form a royal escort on state 
 occasions; but, in 1787, the King disbanded both these military 
 bodies. The Queen then remarked, with evident satisfaction, 
 that at last she should see no more red-coats in the gallery of 
 Versailles.* 
 
 From 1775 to 1781, the Queen passed the pleasantest part 
 of her life, and that in which she indulged most in the gratifi- 
 cations which on all sides offered themselves to her. In the 
 little journeys to Choisy, performances frequently took place at 
 the theatre twice in one day : grand opera and French or Italian 
 comedy, at the usual hour ; and, at eleven at night, parodies, in 
 which the best actors of the opera presented themselves in the 
 most whimsical parts and costumes. The celebrated dancer, 
 Gruimard, always took the leading character in the latter per- 
 formance; she danced better than she acted; her extreme 
 leanness, and her small hoarse voice, added to the burlesque in 
 the parodied characters of Ernelinde and Iphigenie. 
 
 The most magnificent and complimentary fete ever given to 
 the Queen, was one prepared for her by Monsieur, the King's 
 brother, at Brunoy. That prince did me the honour to admit 
 me there, and I followed her majesty everywhere in the group 
 
 * The Queen said to M. de Saint Germain, "What will you do with 
 the forty-four gensdarmes, and forty-four light-horse, that you keep 
 up ? Probably, they are to escort the King to the beds of justice." 
 "No, madam, they are to accompany him when Te Deums are sung." 
 It must be understood that the Queen was for a total suppression, and 
 for the King's being guarded at Versailles, as the Empress, her mother, 
 and the Emperor are, at Vienna ; and that would have been plain and 
 right. (Secret Correspondence of the Court: Reign of Louis XVI.} 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 156 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 that surrounded her. In roving about the gardens, she found, 
 in the first copse, knights in full armour, asleep beneath the 
 shade of trees, whence hung their spears and shields. The 
 absence of the beauties who had incited the nephews of Charle- 
 magne to lofty deeds, is supposed to occasion this lethargic slum- 
 ber. But the Queen appears at the entrance of the copse 
 they are on foot in an instant melodious voices sing the cause 
 of their disenchantment, and their eagerness to signalize their 
 skill and valour. They then hastened into a vast arena, magni- 
 ficently decorated exactly in the style of the ancient tourna- 
 ments. 
 
 Fifty dancers, dressed as pages, presented to the knights 
 twenty-five superb black horses, and twenty-five of a dazzling 
 whiteness, all most richly caparisoned. The party led by Au- 
 gustus Vestris, wore the Queen's colours. Picq, ballet-master 
 at the Russian court, commanded the opposing band. There 
 was running at the black helmet, tilting, and lastly, desperate 
 single combat, perfectly well imitated. Although the spectators 
 were aware that the Queen's colours could not but be victorious, 
 they did not the less enjoy the various and prolonged sensations 
 occasioned by the apparent uncertainty of the triumph. 
 
 Nearly all the agreeable women of Paris, who are always 
 ready to enjoy spectacles of this description, were ranged upon 
 the steps which surrounded the area of the tourney : this assem- 
 blage completed the illusion. The Queen, surrounded by the 
 royal family and the whole court, was placed beneath an ele- 
 vated canopy. A play, followed by a ballet pantomime and a 
 ball, terminated the fete. Fireworks and illuminations were 
 not spared. Finally, from a prodigiously high scaffold, placed 
 on a rising ground, shouts of, Vive Louis! Vive Marie Antoi- 
 nette ! were sent forth in the air, in the midst of a very dark, but 
 calm night. 
 
 Pleasure was the sole pursuit of every one of this young 
 family, with the exception of the King. Their love of it was 
 perpetually encouraged by a crowd of those officious people, 
 who, by anticipating the desires, and even the passions of
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 157 
 
 princes, find means of showing their zeal, and so hope to gain 
 or secure favour for themselves. 
 
 Who would have dared, by cold or solid reasonings, to check 
 the amusements of a Queen, young, lively, and handsome ? A 
 mother, or a husband, alone had the right to do it; and the 
 King threw no impediment in the way of Marie Antoinette's 
 inclinations His long indifference had been followed by feelings 
 of admiration and love. He was a slave to all the wishes of the 
 Queen, who, delighted with the happy change in the mind and 
 manners of the King, did not sufficiently conceal the satisfaction 
 she felt at it, nor the ascendancy she was gaining over him. 
 
 The King went to bed every night at eleven, precisely; he 
 was very methodical, and nothing was allowed to interfere with 
 his rules. He had not, as yet, omitted a single night to share 
 the nuptial bed : but the noise which the Queen unavoidably 
 made, when she returned very late from the evenings which she 
 spent with the Princess de Grueme'nee, or the Duke de Duras, at 
 last annoyed the King : and it was amicably agreed that the 
 Queen should apprise him when she intended to sit up late. The 
 King then began to sleep in his own apartment, which had never 
 before happened from the time of their marriage. 
 
 During the winter the opera-balls beguiled many of the 
 Queen's nights ; she attended them with a single lady of the 
 palace, and Monsieur and the Count d' Artois were always there. 
 Her people concealed their liveries under gray cloth great coats. 
 She always thought she was not recognised, while all the time 
 she was known to the whole assembly, from the first moment she 
 entered the theatre : they pretended, however, not to recognise 
 her, and some masquerade manoeuvre was always adopted to give 
 her the pleasure of fancying herself incognita. 
 
 Louis XVI. determined once to accompany the Queen to a 
 masked ball ; it was agreed that the King should hold not only 
 the grand but the petit couclier, as if actually going to bed. 
 The Queen went to his apartment through the inner corridors of 
 the palace, followed by one of her women with a black domino; 
 she assisted him to put it on, and they went alone to the chapel
 
 156 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 court, where a carriage waited for them, with the captain of the 
 guard on duty, and a lady of the palace. The King was but 
 little amused, spoke only to two or three persons who knew him 
 immediately, and found nothing to admire at the masquerade, 
 but punch and harlequin ; which served as a joke against him for 
 the royal family, who often amused themselves with laughing at 
 him about it. 
 
 An event, very simple in itself, brought lamentable suspicions 
 upon the conduct of the Queen. She was going out one evening 
 with the Duchess de Luynes, lady of the palace : her carriage 
 broke down at the entrance into Paris ; she was obliged to alight ; 
 the Duchess led her into a shop, while a footman called a, fiacre. 
 As they were masked, if they had but known how to keep 
 silence, the event would never have been known ; but to ride 
 in a fiacre is an adventure so whimsical for a Queen, that she 
 had hardly entered the opera house, when she could not help 
 saying to some persons whom she met there : " I came in a 
 fiacre; is it not droll ?"* 
 
 * The amusement of the masquerade, the desire which the Queen 
 felt to taste, at least, the pleasure of the incognito, under the mask 
 there, must have given rise to a number of those adventures, which 
 form one of the amusements attached to disguise of that sort, and which 
 the presence of a third person always renders innocent. The following 
 anecdote appears in a work of the time. 
 
 "An adventure, which took place at the masked ball, given by the 
 Count de Viry, is whispered about ; it was as follows : After the banquet, 
 the Queen withdrew with her suite, and returned shortly afterwards, 
 masked, to the ball. At three o'clock in the morning, she was walking 
 with the Duchess de la Vauguyon : the two masks were accosted by a 
 young foreign nobleman, who was unmasked, and who conversed with 
 them a long time, taking them for two women of quality, with whom he 
 was acquainted. The mistake gave rise to a singular conversation, 
 which amused her majesty the more, inasmuch as the topics were light 
 and agreeable, without being indiscreet. Two gentlemen in masks 
 came up and joined the party ; after laughing a good deal together, 
 they separated. The two ladies intimated a desire to withdraw ; the 
 German baron conducted them ; a very plain carriage drew up : when 
 they were about to enter it, Madame de la Vauguyon unmasked.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 159 
 
 From that moment all Paris was informed of the adventure 
 of the fiacre : it was said that everything connected with that 
 night-adventure was mysterious; that the Queen had kept an 
 assignation in a private house, with an nobleman honoured by 
 her kindness ; the Duke de Coigny was openly named. He was 
 indeed very well received at court, but equally so by the King 
 and Queen. These suppositions of gallantry once set afloat, 
 there were no longer any bounds to all the foolish conjectures 
 of the gossips of the day, and still less to the calumnies circu- 
 lated at Paris respecting the Queen ; if, during the chase, or at 
 cards, she spoke to Lord Edward Dillon, De Lambertye, or 
 others, whose names I cannot at this moment bring to my re 
 collection ; they were so many favoured lovers. The people of 
 Paris did not know that none of those young persons were 
 admitted into the Queen's private circle of friends, nor had even 
 any claim to be introduced there ; but the Queen went about 
 Paris in disguise, and had made use of a, fiacre: unfortunately, 
 a single instance of levity gives room for the suspicion of others, 
 and ill disposed persons do not hesitate to presume that which 
 could not really take place. Calm in consciousness of innocence, 
 and well knowing that all about her must do justice to her pri- 
 vate life, the Queen spoke of these false reports with contempt, 
 
 Judge of the stranger's surprise, and how it increased, when, on turning 
 round, he also recognised the other lady, who had likewise unmasked : 
 respect, and a kind of confusion, succeeded to familiarity. The affability 
 of the charming princess, however, reassured the foreigner, who, be- 
 sides, had had the advantage of paying his court to her majesty, and 
 being known to her. The raillery with which he had to reproach him- 
 self, was only such as the mask sanctions, especially in France. The 
 Queen recommended secrecy, and left him. He complied, no doubt, 
 but to little purpose, as two or three spectators, who were there by 
 accident, were not equally discreet. The foreigner, however, who was 
 finely formed, amiable, and of exalted birth, well deserved the favour 
 fortune threw in his way. Meeting the Queen a few days afterwards, 
 Bhe asked him if he' had kept her secret, in a tone which showed that 
 she did not consider it of the slightest importance." (Secret Corres 
 pondence of the Court: Reign of Louis XVI.} Note by the Editor. 
 
 VOL. I. 15
 
 160 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 contenting herself with the supposition, that some vain folly in 
 the young men above mentioned, had given rise to them. She 
 therefore left off speaking to them, or even looking at them- 
 Their vanity took the alarm at this, and the pleasure of revenge 
 induced them either to say, or to leave others to think, that it 
 was their misfortune to please no longer. Other young cox- 
 combs, placing themselves near the private box, which the Queen 
 occupied incognita, when she attended the public theatre at Ver- 
 sailles, had the presumption to imagine that they were noticed 
 by her; and I have known such notions entertained, merely on 
 account of the Queen's requesting one of those gentlemen to 
 inquire behind the scenes, whether it would be long before the 
 commencement of the second piece. 
 
 The list of persons received into the Queen's closet, which I 
 have given above, was placed in the hands of the gentlemen 
 ushers of the chamber, by the Princess de Lamballe : and the 
 persons there enumerated were to present themselves to enjoy 
 the distinction, on those days whereon the Queen chose to be 
 with her intimates in a private manner, and on no other; and 
 this was only after she had been confined, or when she was 
 slightly indisposed. People of the first rank at court sometimes 
 requested audiences of her; the Queen then received them in 
 a room within that called the wardrobe-women's closet, and these 
 women announced whoever was coming into her majesty's 
 apartment. 
 
 I was one day in this cabinet when the Duke de Lauzun 
 passed through it, after an occurrence which requires some ex- 
 planation. 
 
 The Duke de Lauzun (since Duke de Biron), who made him- 
 self conspicuous in the revolution, among the associates of the 
 Duke d' Orleans, has left behind him some manuscript memoirs, 
 in which he calumniates the character of Marie Antoinette. He 
 relates one anecdote respecting a heron's plume. The following 
 is the true history of the matter. 
 
 The Duke de Lauzun had a good deal of original wit, and 
 something chivalrous in his manners. The Queen was accus-
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 161 
 
 tomed to see him at the King's suppers, and at the house of the 
 Princess de Grue'menee : and always showed him attention. One 
 day he made his appearance at Madame de GuemeneVs in uni- 
 form, and with the most magnificent plume of white heron's 
 feathers that it was possible to behold. The Queen admired the 
 plume, and he offered it to her through the Princess de Gue*- 
 menee. As he wore it, the Queen had not imagined that he 
 could think of giving it to her; much embarrassed with the 
 present which she had, as it were, drawn upon herself, she did 
 not dare to refuse it, nor did she know whether she ought to 
 make one in return ; fearful, if she did give anything, of giving 
 either too much or too little, she contented herself with wearing 
 the plume once, and letting M. de Lauzun see her adorned with 
 the present he had made her. In his secret memoirs the Duke 
 attaches importance to his present of the aigrette, which proves 
 him utterly unworthy of an honour accorded only to his name 
 and rank. 
 
 His vanity magnified the value of the favour done him. A 
 short time after the present of the heron plume, he solicited an 
 audience; the Queen granted it, as she would have done to any 
 other nobleman of equal rank. I was in the room adjoining 
 that in which he was received ; a few minutes after his arrival, 
 the Queen opened the door, and said aloud, and in an angry 
 tone of voice, " Go, sir." M. de Lauzun bowed low, and with- 
 drew. The Queen was much agitated. She said to me : " That 
 man shall never again come within my doors." A few years 
 before the revolution of 1789, the Marshal de Biron died. The 
 Duke de Lauzun, heir to his name, aspired to the important 
 post of colonel of the regiment of French guards. The Queen, 
 however, procured it for the Duke du Chatclet : such is often 
 the origin of the most implacable hatred. The Duke de Biron 
 espoused the cause of the Duke d' Orleans, and became one of 
 the most violent enemies of Marie Antoinette.* 
 
 * The memoirs of the Duke de Lauzun, still in manuscript, while 
 Madame Campan was compiling hers, have since been published. They 
 were penned by the Duke de Lauzun at the solicitation of the Duchess
 
 162 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 It is with reluctance that I enter very minutely on a defence 
 of the Queen against two infamous accusations with which libel- 
 lers have dared to swell their envenomed volumes. I mean the 
 unworthy suspicions of too strong an attachment for the Count 
 d'Artois, and of the motives for the close friendship which sub- 
 sisted between the Queen, the Princess de Lamballe, and the 
 Duchess de Polignac. I do not believe that the Count d'Artois 
 was, during the earlier years of his own youth, and that of the 
 Queen, so much enamoured, as has been said, with the beauty 
 and loveliness of his sister-in-law ; but I can affirm, that I 
 always saw that prince maintain the most respectful distance 
 towards the Queen ; that she always spoke of him, of his good- 
 nature and his cheerfulness, with that freedom which never 
 attends any other than the purest sentiments, and that none of 
 those about the Queen ever saw in the affection she manifested 
 towards the Count d'Artois more than that of a kind and tender 
 sister for her youngest brother. As to the intimate connection 
 between Marie Antoinette and the ladies I have named, rff never 
 had, nor could have, any other motive than the very innocent 
 wish to secure herself two friends in the midst of a numerous 
 court : and notwithstanding this intimacy, that tone of dignified 
 
 de Fleury, daughter of the Duke de Coigny, a woman whose wit, grace, 
 and beauty, were justly extolled. The edition which has appeared, 
 does not contain the anecdote of the heron plume. Did this arise from 
 reserve on the part of the editors, or some hiatus in the manuscript ? 
 Be this as it may, we have a manuscript which details this anecdote 
 at full length, and we do not hesitate to publish it. a At this day, when 
 the account given by Madame Campan contradicts that of the Duke 
 de Lauzun ; at this day, when his presumptuous, selfish, and foolish 
 character is known, what he says may retain its malignity, but can 
 gain no credit. We now see in his memoirs nothing more than the 
 false and despicable insinuations of a coxcomb deceived in his expecta- 
 tion, and whose wounded vanity seeks a revenge unworthy of a nan of 
 honour. Note by the Editors. 
 
 "See Historical Illustrations (O).
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 163 
 
 respect, observed by persons of the most exalted rank towards 
 royal majesty, was never forgotten.* 
 
 The Queen, entirely occupied with the society of Madame de 
 
 * This testimony is confirmed by an historian, the following extract 
 from whom will certainly be read with interest : 
 
 " We shall have occasion to quote a few fragments of letters, from 
 which an idea of the strict friendship that united the Queen and the 
 Duchess de Polignac, may be drawn. Suffice for the present the fol- 
 lowing note written by the Queen to the Duchess, in answer to a letter 
 in which the latter, after an illness that had confined her a few days in 
 Paris, wrote to the Queen that she should soon have the honour of pay- 
 ing her respects to her : 
 
 " ' I am doubtless more impatient for our meeting than you, for to- 
 morrow I shall come and dine with you at Paris.' 
 
 " And in fact, the Queen did go and dine with her friend. It must 
 be confessed, that this strict friendship between a sovereign and a sub- 
 ject, appears the more extraordinary as being utterly unexampled. 
 Howevcr^that it did exist, cannot be denied : unprincipled people, 
 therefore^Bad no other course to pursue, than to suppose a criminal 
 motive for this friendship ; and they succeeded but too well. 
 
 " When the real scheme of dethroning the unfortunate Louis XVI. 
 was once determined on, it was thought proper to begin by degrading 
 him ; the most efficacious way to do which, was to attack the morals of 
 the Queen. It was also essential to the success of this infernal plot, 
 that the Duchess de Polignac should be lowered in public opinion, be- 
 fore the princess herself was attacked. For if the Duchess could be 
 made to appear deserving of universal contempt, the opprobrium cast 
 on her would stain her august friend also. 
 
 " Libels against Madame de Polignac, therefore, were not spared. 
 The author of this history has been often asked whether he had read 
 those libels ? and who, unfortunately, has not ? but he, in his turn, de- 
 manded that those who wrote them should own them, and produce their 
 proofs. He was never answered ; and all intelligent persons who were 
 well acquainted with the Duke and Duchess de Polignac, appeared to 
 him convinced, that the authors of those libels were vile calumniators, 
 hired by the enemies of the King and Queen. He even interrogated the 
 Duchess's servants, who had nothing more to hope for from their mis- 
 tress ; and their answers proved that she was beloved by her people, 
 and that in the bosom of her family she led the most decorous and 
 regular life. 
 
 " In short, the author has not met with a single person who had ever 
 15*
 
 164 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Polignac, and amusements which succeeded each other in an 
 unbroken series, had, for some time, found but little leisure for 
 the Abbe" de Vermond ; he, therefore, resolved to retire from 
 court. The world did him the honour to believe, that he had 
 hazarded remonstrances upon his august pupil's frivolous employ- 
 ment of her time, and that both as an ecclesiastic and as 
 instructor, he was now, when at court, out of his place ; but the 
 world deceived itself: his dissatisfaction arose purely from the 
 favour shown to the Countess Jules. After a fortnight's 
 absence, we saw him at Versailles again, resuming his usual 
 functions. I will relate, by and by, his motives for absenting 
 himself, and the conditions for which he stipulated, upon his 
 return. 
 
 even received the slightest offence from the Duke de Polignac or his 
 Duchess. Having to decide between heavy accusations, altogether 
 unsupported by any kind of evidence, on the one hand, and indisputable 
 facts on the other, he was naturally bound to pronounce fong^e latter : 
 his character of an historian did not admit of his doing otherwise." 
 (History of Marie Antoinette, by Montjoie). Note by the Editor. 

 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 166 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Joseph the Second visits France His Reception at the Opera Fete 
 given to him by the Queen at Trianon First Pregnancy of the Queen 
 Voltaire's Return to Paris Duel between the Count d'Artois and 
 the Duke de Bourbon Return of the Chevalier d'Eon to France Par- 
 ticulars relative to his Missions, and the Causes of his Disguise Night 
 Promenades upon the Terrace of Trianon Coupl^ytgainst the Queen 
 Indignation of Louis XVI. The birth of Mad 
 
 plets ag 
 ulan*. 
 
 FROM the time of Louis XVL's accession to the throne, the 
 Queen had been expecting a visit from her brother the Emperor 
 Joseph II. That prince was the constant theme of her dis- 
 course. She boasted of his intelligence, his love of occupation, 
 his military knowledge, and the perfect simplicity of his man- 
 ners. Those about her majesty ardently wished to see at 
 Versailles a prince so worthy of his rank. At length, the 
 coming of Joseph II., under the title of Count Falkenstein, 
 was announced, and the very day on which he would be at 
 Versailles was mentioned.* The first interview between the 
 Queen and her august brother, took place in the presence of all 
 the Queen's household. It was extremely affecting; the feel- 
 ings of nature excite the strongest interest, when displayed by 
 sovereigns in all their unrestrained force. 
 
 The Emperor was, at first, generally admired in France; men 
 of science, skilful officers, and celebrated artists, were sensible 
 
 * The Queen received the Emperor at Versailles, and did not go to 
 meet him in a cabriolet, as is said in some of the collections of anec- 
 dotes respecting the court of Louis XVI. ; especially in a very respect- 
 able work, in which this false anecdote is inserted ; as it is likewise in 
 the .Er\qlish Spy, from which it mKs probably taken. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 166 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of the great extent of his information. He made less impres- 
 sion at court, and very little in the private circle of the King 
 and Queen. His manners were eccentric, his frankness often 
 degenerated into rudeness, and his simplicity appeared evidently 
 affected ; from these characteristics he was looked upon rather 
 as a singular than an admirable prince. The Queen spoke to 
 him about the apartment she had prepared for him in the castle ; 
 the Emperor answered that he would not accept of it, and that 
 while travelling he always lodged at a public house (that was 
 his very expression) : the Queen insisted, and assured him that 
 he should be at perfect liberty, and placed out of the reach of 
 noise. He replied, that he knew the chateau of Versailles was 
 extensive enouajft and that he might claim a place there, as 
 well as any ofjfje other blackguards who were lodged in it ; 
 but that his valet de chambre had made up his camp-bed, in a 
 ready-furnished house, and there he would lodge. 
 
 He dined with the King and Queen, and supped wijfc the 
 whole family assembled together. He appeared to take an 
 interest in the young Princess Elizabeth, then just past child- 
 hood, and blooming in all the freshness of that age. A report 
 of an intended marriage between him and this young sister of 
 the King, was circulated a't the time, but I believe it had no 
 foundation in truth. 
 
 The table still continued to be attended by females only, 
 when the Queen dined in private with the King, the royal 
 family, or crowned heads.* I was present at the Queen's 
 
 * The custom was, that, even supposing dinner to have commenced, 
 if a princess of the blood arrived, and she was asked to sit down at 
 the Queen's table, the comptrollers and gentlemen in waiting immedi- 
 ately came to attend, and the Queen's women withdrew. These had 
 succeeded the maids of honour in several parts of their service, and had 
 preserved some of their privileges. One day the Duchess d'Orleans 
 arrived at Fontainebleau, at the Queen's dinner-hour. The Queen 
 invited her to the table, and herself motioned to her women to leave 
 the room and let the men take their nlaces. Her majesty said she was 
 resolved to continue a privilege whicu*fcept places of that description
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 167 
 
 dinner almost every day. The Emperor would there speak 
 much and fluently ; he expressed himself in our language with 
 facility, and the singularity of his expressions added a zest to 
 his conversation. 1 have often heard him say that he liked 
 speetaculous objects, when he meant to express such things as 
 formed a show, or a scene worthy of interest. He disguised 
 none of his prejudices upon the subject of the etiquette and 
 customs of the court of France; and even in the presence of 
 the King aimed his sarcasms at them.* The King smiled, but 
 never made any answer; the Queen appeared to feel pain from 
 them. The Emperor frequently terminated his observations 
 upon the objects in Paris, which he had admired, by reproaching 
 the King for remaining in ignorance of thea^^JIc could not 
 conceive how such rich treasures of art shoulc^^Aaia shut up 
 
 honourable, and rendered them a fit resort for ladies of birth without 
 fortune. 
 
 Madame de Misery, Baroness de Biachc, the Queen's first lady of the 
 chamber, to whom I was reversioner, was a daughter of the Count de 
 Chemant, and her grandmother was a Montmorency. The Prince de 
 Tingry, in the presence of the Queen, used to call her cousin. 
 
 The ancient household of the kings of France conferred prerogatives 
 acknowledged in the state. Many of the offices were tenable only by 
 those of noble blood, and were sold at from 40,000 to 300,000 francs. 
 A collection of edicts of the kings in favour of the prerogatives and 
 right of precedence of the persons holding office in the King's house- 
 hold, is still in existence. Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 * Joseph II. had a taste, or perhaps, we may say, a talent for satire. 
 A collection of his letters has just been published in which his bitter 
 raillery spares neither the nobility nor the clergy, nor even his brother 
 kings. Two or three of these letters will be found at the end of the 
 volume, letter (P) ; they belong to the subject treated of by Madame 
 Campan, since they add a few touches more to the picture of Joseph 
 II. 
 
 His caustic humour found, however, fair game in the etiquette ob- 
 served at the court of France. If we wish to form an idea of this 
 tyranny, which annoyed princely personages every instant of the day, 
 and followed them, in a manner, even to the nuptial bed, we must read a 
 curious paper inserted by MftdameCampan among her Historical Illus- 
 trations (No. 2). Note, by l/ie Editor,
 
 168 . MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in the dust of immense depositories ;* and told him one day, 
 that but for the practice of placing some of them in the apart- 
 ments of Versailles, he would not know even the principal 
 chef-d'ceuvres that he possessed. f He also reproached him for 
 not having visited the Hotel des Invalides, or the military 
 school ; and even went so far as to tell him before us, that he 
 ought not only to know what Paris contained, but to travel in 
 France, and reside a few days in each of his large towns. 
 
 At last the Queen was really hurt at the Emperor's indiscreet 
 sincerity, and gave him a few lectures upon the thoughtlessness 
 with which he allowed himself to lecture others. One day, she 
 was busied in signing warrants and orders for payment for her 
 household, aud^jps conversing with M. Augeard, her secretary 
 for such niaj^R, who presented the papers one after another to 
 be signed, IKWreplaced them in his portfolio. While this was 
 going forward, the Emperor walked about the room ; all at once 
 he stopped, to censure the Queen rather severely for signing all 
 those papers without reading them, or, at least, without running 
 her eye over them ; and he spoke most judiciously to her upon 
 the danger of signing her name inconsiderately. The Queen 
 answered, that very wise principles might be very ill applied; 
 that her secretary for orders, who deserved her implicit confi- 
 dence, was at that moment laying before her nothing but orders 
 for payment of the quarter's expenses of her household, regis- 
 tered in the chamber of accounts ; and that she ran no risk of 
 giving her signature for any improper design. J 
 
 * Shortly after the Emperor's departure, the Count d'Angivillers laid 
 before the King plans for the erection of the Museum, which was then 
 begun. Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 } The Emperor loudly blamed the practice existing at that time, of 
 allowing shopkeepers to erect shops near the outward walls of all the 
 palaces, and to establish something like a fair upon the staircases, in 
 the galleries of Versailles and Fontainebleau, and even up to each 
 landing-place of the great staircases. Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 J This anecdote is confirmed by the information Madame Campan 
 gives, respecting the order establudied inthe accounts relating to the 
 funds belonging to the Queen's prl^ purse, in her Historical Illustra- 
 tions (Note No. 3) - Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 169 
 
 The Queen's toilette was likewise a never-failing subject for 
 animadversion with the Emperor. He blamed her for having 
 introduced too many new fashions ; and teased her about her 
 use of rouge, to which his eyes could not accustom themselves. 
 One day, while she was laying on more of it than usual, before 
 going to the play, he advised her to put on still more ; and 
 pointing out a lady who was in the room, and was, in truth, 
 highly painted, " A little more under the eyes," said the Em- 
 peror to the Queen : " lay on the rouge like a fury, as that lady 
 does." The Queen entreated her brother to cease observations 
 of this sort, and, at all events, to address them, when they were 
 so severe, to her alone. This manner of criticising established 
 fashions and customs, agreed very well with the sneering spirit 
 which then prevailed ; otherwise the Emperor woujkl have been 
 generally blamed. Those who from principle adhered to the 
 ancient customs, were the only persons displeased, and were 
 indeed much offended with him for his misplaced frankness. 
 
 The Queen had made an appointment to meet him at the 
 Italian theatre ; her majesty changed her mind, and went to the 
 French theatre. She sent a page to the Italian theatre, to 
 request her brother would come to her. The Emperor left his 
 box, lighted by the comedian Clairval, and attended by M. de 
 la Ferle, comptroller of the Queen's privy purse, who was much 
 hurt, at hearing his imperial majesty, after condescendingly ex- 
 pressing his regret at not being present during the Italian per- 
 formance, say to Clairval, " Your young Queen is very giddy ; 
 but, luckily, you Frenchmen have no great objection to that." 
 
 I was with my father-in-law in one of the Queen's apart- 
 ments, when the Emperor came to wait for her there, and know- 
 ing that M. Campan did the duty of librarian, he conversed 
 with him about such books as would of course be found in the 
 Queen's library. After talking of our most celebrated authors, 
 he casually said, " There are no works on finance or administra- 
 tion here, of course." 
 
 These words were followed by his opinion on all that had 
 been written on those topics, and the differing systems of our
 
 170 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 two famous ministers, Sully and Colbert ; on the errors which 
 were daily committed, in France, in points so essential to the 
 prosperity of the empire; and on the reform he himself would 
 make at Vienna, as soon as he should be able : holding M. Cam- 
 pan by the button, he spent more than an hour talking vehe- 
 mently, and without the slightest reserve, about the French 
 government. This was certainly wrong, for the Emperor should 
 have conversed with the secretary-librarian only upon matters 
 connected with his office, if he had consulted delicacy and 
 dignity. But he was so full of self-sufficiency respecting the 
 science of government, that he fell into this childish error. He 
 talked nearly an hour. My father-in-law and myself continued 
 in profound silence, as much from astonishment as from respect; 
 and when we were left alone, we agreed not to speak of this 
 interview. 
 
 The Emperor was fond of telling secret anecdotes of the 
 Italian courts that he had visited ; the jealous quarrels between 
 the King and Queen of Naples, amused him highly; he de- 
 scribed to the life the manner and speech of that sovereign, and 
 the simplicity with which he used to go and solicit the first 
 chamberlain, to obtain permission to return to the nuptial bed, 
 when the angry Queen had banished him from it. The time 
 which he was made to wait for this reconciliation, was calculated 
 between the Queen and her chamberlain, and always propor- 
 tioned to the gravity of the offence. He also related several 
 very amusing stories relative to the court of Parma, of which he 
 spoke with no little contempt. If what this prince said of those 
 courts, and even of Vienna, had been written down from day 
 to day, the whole would have formed a very interesting collec- 
 tion. I recollect but one anecdote which calls to mind the 
 infatuation of Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, for the system 
 of the economists, and gives an idea of the judgment the Empe- 
 ror had formed of him. The Emperor related to the King, that 
 the Grand Duke of Tuscany and the King of Naples being toge- 
 ther, the former talked much about the changes he had effected 
 in his state. He said he had issued a vast number of new
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 171 
 
 edicts, in order to carry the precepts of the economists into exe- 
 cution, and trusted that in so doing, he was labouring for the 
 welfare of his people. The King of Naples suffered him to go 
 on speaking for a long time, and then merely asked him how 
 many Neapolitan families there were in Tuscany. The duke 
 soon reckoned them up, as they were but few. "Well, bro- 
 ther/' replied the King of Naples, "I do not understand the 
 indifference of your people respecting this said welfare ; for I 
 have four times the number of Tuscan families settled in my 
 states, that you have of Neapolitan families in yours." 
 
 The Queen being at the opera with the Emperor, the latter 
 did not wish to show himself ; but she took him by the hand, 
 and with a little gentle force drew him forward to the first row 
 of the box. This presentation to the public was most warmly 
 received. The performance was Iphigenia in Aulis, and, for the 
 second time, the chorus, Chantons, celebrons notre Reine ! was 
 called for with the greatest ardour, and sung in the midst of 
 universal plaudits. 
 
 A fete of a novel description was given at Petit Trianon. 
 The art with which the English garden was lighted, not illumi- 
 nated, produced a charming effect : earthen lamps concealed by 
 painted green boards, threw light upon the beds of shrubs and 
 flowers, and brought out their several tints in the most varied 
 and pleasing manner. Several hundred burning faggots in the 
 moat behind the temple of Love, kept up a blaze of light, which 
 rendered that spot the most brilliant in the garden. After all, 
 this evening's entertainment had nothing remarkable about it, 
 beyond that for which it was indebted to the good taste of the 
 artists ; yet it was much talked of. The situation did not allow 
 of the admission of a great part of the court ; those who were 
 uninvited, were dissatisfied ; and the people, who never forgive 
 any fetes but those they share in, contributed greatly to the 
 envious exaggerations which were circulated as to the cost of this 
 little fete, which were so ridiculously absurd, as to state that 
 the faggots burnt in the moat required the destruction of a whole 
 forest. The Queen, being informed of these reports, was deter- 
 
 VOL. i. 16
 
 172 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 mined to know exactly how much wood had been consumed; 
 and she found that fifteen hundred faggots had sufficed to keep 
 up the fire until four o'clock in the morning. 
 
 The Emperor left France, after staying a few months, and 
 promised his sister to come and see her again. 
 
 All the officers of the Queen's chamber had taken many op- 
 portunities of serving him during his stay, and expected that 
 he would make presents before his departure. Their oath of 
 office positively forbade them receiving a gift from any foreign 
 prince ; they had therefore agreed to refuse the Emperor's pre- 
 sents at first, but to ask the time necessary for obtaining permis- 
 sion to accept of them. The Emperor, probably informed of 
 this custom, relieved the good people from the difficulty of get- 
 ting themselves released from their oath ; for he set off without 
 making a single present. 
 
 The Countess d'Artois already had two children, while the 
 Queen had not even a hope of giving heirs to the throne. There 
 were many secret conjectures respecting the obstacles which 
 could so long have opposed this. At last, about the latter end 
 of 1777, the Queen, being alone in her closet, sent for my father- 
 in-law and myself, and giving us her hand to kiss, told us, that 
 looking upon us both as persons deeply interested in her happi- 
 ness, she wished to receive our congratulations ; that at length 
 she really was the Queen of France, and that she hoped soon to 
 .have children; that up to that moment she had concealed her 
 grief, but that she had shed many tears in secret. 
 
 We have calculated and found that she was brought to bed 
 of Madame, daughter of the King, exactly a year after the con- 
 fidence she had deigned to repose in us. This tardy consumma- 
 tion was not made public. 
 
 Dating from this long-delayed but happy moment, the King's 
 attachment to the Queen assumed every characteristic of love ; 
 the good Lassone, first physician to the King and Queen, fre- 
 quently spoke to me of the uneasiness, that the King's indiffer- 
 ence, the cause of which he had been so long in overcoming, had
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 178 
 
 given him, and appeared to me at that time to entertain anxiety 
 of a very different description. 
 
 In the winter of 1778, the King's permission for the return 
 of Voltaire, after an absence of twenty-seven years, was obtained. 
 A few austere or cautious persons, considered this condescension 
 on the part of the court as very injudicious. The Emperor, on 
 leaving France, passed by Ferney, and did not think fit to stop 
 there. He had advised the Queen not to suffer Voltaire to be 
 presented to her. A lady belonging to the court, learned the 
 Emperor's opinion on that point, and reproached him with his 
 want of enthusiasm towards the greatest genius of the age : he 
 replied, that for the good of the people, he should always endea- 
 vour to profit by the knowledge of the philosophers ; but that 
 his own business of sovereign would always prevent his ranking 
 himself amongst the adepts of that sect. The clergy, also, took 
 steps to hinder Voltaire's appearance at court. Paris, however, 
 carried the honours paid to the great poet, to the highest pitch 
 of enthusiasm. It was highly imprudent to give the people of 
 Paris an opportunity of showing with how much pleasure they 
 could maintain an opinion contrary to that of the court. This 
 was pointed out to the Queen, and she was told, that, without 
 conferring on Voltaire the honour of a presentation, she might 
 see him in the state apartments. She was not very adverse to 
 following this advice, and appeared embarrassed solely about 
 what she should say to him, in case of consenting to see him. 
 She was recommended to talk to him about nothing but the 
 Henriade, Merope, and Zaire. The Queen told those who had 
 taken the liberty to make these observations to her, that she 
 would still consult a few other persons, in whom she had great 
 confidence. The next day she gave for answer, that it was irre- 
 vocably decided Voltaire should not see any member of the 
 royal family his writings being full of principles which aimed 
 too directly at religion and morals. " It is, however, strange," 
 said the Queen, as she gave this answer, " that while we refuse 
 to admit Voltaire into our presence, as the leader of philosophi- 
 cal writers, Madame la Marechale de Mouchy, with all the
 
 174 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 intriguing disposition of the sect, should have presented to me, 
 some years ago, Madame Geoffrin, who owed her celebrity to 
 the title of foster-mother of the philosophers." 
 
 When the intended duel of the Count d'Artois with the Prince 
 de Bourbon was known, the Queen determined to see the Baron 
 Besenval, who was to be one of the persons present at the meet- 
 ing, privately, in order to communicate the King's intentions : 
 I read, with infinite pain, the manner in which that simple fact 
 is perverted, in M. de Besenval' s Memoirs. He is right in 
 saying that M. Carnpan led him through the upper corridors of 
 the chateau, and introduced him into an apartment unknown to 
 him ; but the air of romance given to the interview is equally 
 culpable and ridiculous. M. de Besenval says, that he found 
 himself, without knowing how he came there, in a plain apart- 
 ment, but very conveniently furnished, of the existence of 
 which he was till then utterly ignorant. He was astonished, he 
 adds, not that the Queen should have so many facilities, but that 
 she should have ventured to procure them. Ten printed sheets 
 of the woman La Motte's impure libels contain nothing so in- 
 jurous to the character of Marie Antoinette, as these lines, writ- 
 ten by a man whom she honoured by kindness thus undeserved. 
 He could not possibly have had any opportunity of knowing the 
 existence of these apartments, which consisted of a very small 
 ante-chamber, a bedchamber, and a closet. Ever since the 
 Queen had occupied her own apartment, this had been appro- 
 priated to her majesty's lady of honour, in cases of confinement 
 or sickness, and was actually in such use, when the Queen was 
 confined. It was so important that it should not be known the 
 Queen had spoken to the baron before the duel, that she had 
 determined to go through her inner room into this little apart- 
 ment, to which M. Campan was to conduct him. When men 
 write upon times still in remembrance, they should be scrupu- 
 lously exact, and not indulge in any exaggerations or construc- 
 tions of their own. 
 
 The Baron de Besenval, in his Memoirs, appears mightily 
 surprised at the Queen's sudden coolness, and in a very unfa-
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 175 
 
 vourable manner, refers to the fickleness of her disposition. I 
 can explain the reason for the change, by repeating what her 
 majesty said to me at the time ; and I will not alter one of her 
 expressions. Speaking of the strange presumption of men, 
 and the reserve with which women ought always to treat them, 
 the Queen added, that age did not deprive them of the hope of 
 pleasing, if they retained any agreeable qualities ; that she had 
 treated the Baron de Besenval as a brave Swiss, agreeable, polish- 
 ed, and witty, whose gray hairs had induced her to look upon 
 him, as a man whom she might see without fear of censure ; but 
 that she had been much deceived. Her majesty, after having 
 enjoined me to the strictest secrecy upon what she was about to 
 impart, informed me, that finding herself alone with the baron, 
 he began to address her with so much gallantry, that she was 
 thrown into the utmost astonishment, and that he was mad 
 enough to fall upon his knees, and make her a declaration in 
 form. The Queen added, that she said to him ; " Rise, sir : the 
 King shall not be informed of an offence which would disgrace 
 you for ever ;" that the baron grew pale, and stammered an 
 apology ; that she left her closet without saying another word, 
 and that since that time, she hardly ever spoke to him. The 
 Queen said to me on this occasion : " It is delightful to have 
 friends ; but in a situation like mine, it is sometimes difficult to 
 adopt the friends of our friends." 
 
 The baron, like a bold courtier, knew how to digest both the 
 shame attendant on a step so blameable, and the resentment 
 which had of course succeeded. He did not lose the honoura- 
 ble distinction of being on the list of persons received in the 
 society of Trianon. 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1779, Chevalier d'Eon obtained 
 permission to return to France, on condition that he should 
 appear there in no other dress than that of a female. The 
 Count de Vergennes entreated my father, M. G-enet, chief clerk 
 of foreign affairs, who had long known the Chevalier d'Eon, to 
 receive that whimsical personage at his house, to guide and 
 restrain, if possible, his restless disposition. The Queen, on 
 10*
 
 176 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 learning his arrival at Versailles, sent a footman to desire my 
 father to bring him into her presence ; my father thought it his 
 duty first to inform the minister of her majesty's wish. The 
 Count de Vergennes expressed himself pleased with my father's 
 prudence, and desired him to accompany him to the Queen. 
 The minister had a few minutes' audience ; her majesty came 
 out of her closet with him, and finding my father in the room 
 beyond it, condescended to express to him the regret she felt, 
 at having troubled him to no purpose ; and added smiling, that 
 a few words which M. de Vergennes had just said to her, had 
 for ever cured her of her curiosity. The late discovery and 
 confirmation in London, respecting the true sex of this pre- 
 tended woman, gives room for belief that the few words uttered 
 by the minister for foreign affairs, to the Queen, contained 
 merely a solution of the enigma. It is known that while the 
 Chevalier d'Eon was minister plenipotentiary in London, he 
 outrageously attacked the honour of the Count de Guerchy ; and 
 the court of France not permitting him to make his appearance 
 again in his own country in any other dress than that of a 
 woman, they made some atonement for his insulting conduct 
 towards a family of consideration. 
 
 The Chevalier d'Eon had been useful in Russia in the private 
 espionage of Louis XV. While still very young, he had found 
 means to introduce himself at the court of the Empress Eliza- 
 beth, and had served that sovereign in the capacity of reader. 
 Resuming afterwards his military dress, he served with honour, 
 and was wounded. Appointed chief-secretary of legation, and 
 afterwards minister plenipotentiary at London, he offended Count 
 de Guerchy the ambassador, by the most unpardonable insults. 
 They were of such a nature, that the official order for the cheva- 
 lier's return to France was actually delivered to the King's 
 council ; but Louis XV. delayed the departure of the courier 
 who was to be the bearer of it, and sent off another courier pri- 
 vately, who gave the Chevalier d'Eon a letter in his own writing, 
 in which he said, " I know that you have served me as effectually 
 in the dress of a woman, as in that which you now wear. RC'
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 177 
 
 sumc it instantly ; withdraw into the city ; I warn you that the 
 King yesterday signed an order for your return to France ; you 
 are not safe in your hotel, and you will here find too powerful 
 enemies." I heard the Chevalier d'Eon repeat the contents of 
 this letter, in which Louis XV. thus separated his personal exist- 
 ence from that of the King of France, several times at my 
 father's. The Chevalier, or rather the CJievaliere d'Eon, had 
 preserved all the King's letters. Messieurs de Maurepas and 
 de Vergennes wished to get these letters out of his hands, as 
 they feared he would print them. This eccentric being had long 
 solicited his return to France : but it was neccessary to find a 
 way of sparing the family he had offended the kind of insult 
 they would see in his return : he was therefore made to resume 
 the costume of that sex, in which in France everything is par- 
 doned. The desire to see his native land once more, undoubt- 
 edly, determined him to submit to the condition, but he con- 
 soled himself by contrasting the long train of his gown and his 
 three deep ruffles, with the attitude and conversation of a grena- 
 dier; which, however, made him very disagreeable company. 
 
 At last the event so long desired by the Queen, and by all 
 those who wished her well, took place. Her majesty became 
 pregnant : the King was in ecstasies on the occasion. Never 
 was there a more united or happier couple. The disposition of 
 Louis XVI. was entirely altered, and was become prepossessing 
 and conciliatory ; he had submitted to the yoke of love, and the 
 Queen was well compensated for the uneasiness which the King's 
 indifference, during the early part of their union, had caused her. 
 
 The summer of 1778 was extremely hot. July and August 
 passed ; but the air was not cooled by a single shower. The 
 Queen, incommoded by her size, spent whole days in close rooms, 
 and could not sleep until she had breathed the fresh night air, 
 which she did, walking with the princesses and her brothers, 
 upon the terrace- under her apartments. These promenades at 
 first gave rise to no remarks ; but it occurred to some of the 
 party, to enjoy the music of wind-instruments during these fine 
 summer nights. The musicians belonging to the chapel were
 
 178 MEAIOIRS OF 
 
 ordered to perform pieces suited to instruments of that descrip- 
 tion, upon steps constructed in the middle of the garden. The 
 Queen, seated on one of the terrace benches, enjoyed the effect 
 of this music, surrounded by the whole of the royal family, with 
 the exception of the King, who joined them but twice, disliking 
 to break in upon his hour of going to bed. Nothing could be 
 more innocent than these parties; yet Paris, France, nay, all 
 Europe, were soon canvassing them in a manner most disadvan- 
 tageous to the reputation of Marie Antoinette. It is true, that 
 all the inhabitants of Versailles chose to enjoy these serenades, 
 and that there was a crowd near the spot from eleven at night, 
 until two or three in the morning. The windows of the ground 
 floor, occupied by Monsieur and Madame, were kept open, and 
 the terrace was perfectly well lighted by the numerous wax 
 candles burning in the two apartments. Lamps were likewise 
 placed in the garden, and the lights of the orchestra illuminated 
 the rest of the place. 
 
 I do not know whether a few inconsiderate females might not 
 have ventured farther, and wandered to the bottom of the park : 
 it may have been so ; but the Queen, Madame, and the Countess 
 d'Artois were always arm-in-arm, and never left the terrace. 
 The princesses were not remarkable when seated on the benches, 
 being dressed in cambric muslin gowns, with large straw hats 
 and muslin veils, a costume universally adopted by females at 
 that time ; but when standing up, their different figures always 
 distinguished them ; and the persons present stood on one side 
 to let them pass. It is true, that when they seated themselves 
 upon the benches, private individuals would sometimes, to their 
 great amusement, come and sit down by their side. A young 
 clerk in the war department, lively and of good address, either 
 not knowing the Queen, or pretending not to know her, spoke 
 to her. The beauty of the night, and the delightful effect of 
 the music, formed the subject of the conversation. The Queen, 
 fancying she was not recognised, amused herself by keeping up 
 the incognita, and they talked of several private families of Ver- 
 sailles, who were perfectly well known to the Queen, as they all
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 179 
 
 consisted of persons belonging to the King's household, or her 
 own. After thus passing a few minutes, the Queen and prin- 
 cesses rose to walk, and on leaving the bench, curtsied to the 
 clerk. The young man knowing, or having subsequently dis- 
 covered, that he had been conversing with the Queen, boasted 
 of it in his office. On this being made known, he was desired 
 to hold his tongue; and so little attention did he excite, that 
 the Revolution found him still a mere clerk as before. Another 
 evening, one of Monsieur's body-guard, in the same manner, 
 came and seated himself near the princesses, and knowing them, 
 left the place where he was sitting, and came up to the Queen, 
 to tell her that he was very fortunate in being able to seize an op- 
 portunity of imploring the kindness of his sovereign : that he was 
 soliciting at court at the word soliciting, the Queen and prin- 
 cesses rose hastily and withdrew into Madame' s apartment.* 
 
 I was at the Queen's residence that very day. She talked of 
 this little occurrence all the time of her coucher; though she 
 only complained that one of Monsieur's guards should have the 
 effrontery to speak to her. Her majesty added, that he ought 
 to have respected her being incognita ; and that that was not 
 the place where he should have ventured to make a request. 
 Madame had recognised him, and talked of making a complaint 
 to his captain ; the Queen opposed it, attributing his error to his 
 ignorance and provincial origin. 
 
 The most scandalous tales were made up and inserted in the 
 libels of the day, respecting these two insignificant occurrences, 
 which I have related with scrupulous exactness. Nothing could 
 be more false than those calumnious reports. It must be con- 
 fessed, however, that such meetings were liable to serious ill 
 consequences. I ventured to say as much to the Queen, and 
 informed her that one evening, when her majesty had beckoned 
 to me to go and speak to her, on the bench on which she was 
 sitting, I thought I recognised two women, deeply veiled, who 
 were seated in profound silence by her side j that those women 
 
 * Soulavie has most crimijially perverted these two facts. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 180 MEMOfRS OF 
 
 were no other than the Countess du Barry and her sister-in-law 
 and that my suspicions were confirmed when, at a few paces 
 from the seat, and nearer to her majesty, I met a tail footman 
 belonging to Madame du Barry, and whom I had seen in her 
 service all the time she resided at court. 
 
 My advice was useless. Misled by the pleasure she found in 
 these promenades, and lulled into security by the consciousness 
 of blameless conduct, the Queen would not see the lamentable 
 results by which they must necessarily be followed. This was 
 very unfortunate; for, besides the mortifications they brought 
 upon her, it is highly probable that they prompted the idea of 
 the vile romance which gave rise to the Cardinal de Rohan's 
 fatal error. 
 
 Having enjoyed these evening promenades about a month, the 
 Queen ordered a private concert within the colonnade which con- 
 tains the group of Pluto and Proserpine. Sentinels were placed 
 at all the entrances into the grove, and ordered to admit within 
 the colonnade only such persons as should produce tickets, signed 
 by my father-in-law. A fine concert was performed there by 
 the musicians of the chapel, and the female musicians belonging 
 to the Queen's chamber. The Queen went with Mesdames de 
 Polignac, de Chalon, and d'Andlau, and Messieurs de Polignac, 
 de Coigny, de Besenval, and de Vaudreuil; there were also a 
 few equerries present. Her majesty gave me permission to 
 attend the concert, with some of my female relations. There 
 was no music upon the terrace. The crowd of inquisitive people, 
 whom the sentinels kept at a distance from the enclosure of the 
 colonnade, went away highly discontented; and the most disgust- 
 ing calumnies were circulated respecting this private concert.* 
 
 * This anecdote is in the same manner detestably perverted in Sou- 
 lavie'S 'infamous collection ; yet his six volumes are, unfortunately, 
 admitted into libraries, and particularly into the libraries of foreigners. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.*- 
 
 On this passage we shall maintain the same reserve as on one mentioned before. 
 The Abbe Soulavie's calumnies against the Queen, shall find no place in this work. 
 No writer, who has any respect for himself, will repeat what he has ventured to say. 
 As to those undiscerning foreigners, who place Soulavie's work in their libraries, we 
 must say they can have neither a very delicate taste, nor very enlightened minds. 
 
 Note by the Editors.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 181 
 
 Many people wished to enjoy it, and it really was very de- 
 lightful. The small number of the persons admitted, no doubt, 
 occasioned jealousy, and gave rise to offensive comments, which 
 were caught up by the public with avidity. It is very essential 
 to know how far the proceedings of the great should be matters 
 of calculation. I do not pretend here to apologize for the kind 
 of amusement with which the Queen indulged herself this and 
 the following summer; the consequences were so lamentable, that 
 the error was no doubt very great. The result will prove it : I 
 shall not withhold that result, but what I have said respecting 
 the character of these promenades, may be relied on as true. 
 
 When the season for evening walks was at an end, odious 
 couplets were spread about Paris : the Queen was treated in 
 them in the most insulting manner ; her pregnancy had ranked 
 among her enemies persons attached to the only prince who, for 
 several years, had appeared likely to give heirs to the crown. 
 People ventured upon the most inconsiderate language : and 
 those improper conversations took place in societies, wherein 
 the imminent danger of violating, to so criminal an extent, both 
 truth and the respect due to sovereigns, ought to have been 
 better understood. A few days before the Queen's confinement, 
 a whole volume of manuscript songs, concerning her and all the 
 ladies about her, any way remarkable for rank or station, was 
 thrown in at the bull's-eye. This manuscript was immediately 
 put into the hands of the King, who was highly incensed at it, 
 and said that he had himself been at those promenades, that he 
 had seen nothing connected with them but what was perfectly 
 harmless ; that such songs would disturb the harmony of twenty 
 families of the court and city ; that it was a capital crime to 
 have made any against the Queen herself, and that he would 
 have the author of the infamous libels sought out, discovered, 
 and punished. A fortnight afterwards it was known publicly, 
 that the verses were by M. Champcenetz de Riquebourg,* who 
 was not even molested. 
 
 * This Monsieur Champcenetz de Riquebourg, was known as the 
 author of a great many songs, some of which are very well written.
 
 182 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 I was assured at the time that the King spoke to M. de Mau- 
 repas, before two of his most confidential servants, respecting 
 the risk which he saw the Queen ran from these night walks 
 upon the terrace of Versailles, the public venturing to censure 
 them thus openly the old minister had the cruel policy to 
 answer the King, that she should be suffered to go on ; that she 
 possessed talent; that her friends were very ambitious, and 
 longed to see her take a part in public affairs ; and that to let 
 her acquire the reputation of levity, would do no harm.* M. 
 
 Lively and satirical by nature, he did not lose either his cheerfulness 
 or his carelessness before the revolutionary tribunal ; where, after hear- 
 ing his own sentence of condemnation read, he asked his judges if he 
 might not be allowed to find a substitute. Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 * This specimen of artifice, so characteristic of an old politician, of 
 a minister who sacrificed even the honour of his sovereign to the pre- 
 servation of his place, agrees well with the portrait of the Count Mau- 
 repas, drawn by Marmontel. We quote those passages of it which bear 
 most upon his conduct, on the occasion mentioned by Madame Campan. 
 
 " Watchful attention to preserve his ascendancy over the King's mind, 
 and his predominance in the council, rendered him jealous even of the 
 objects of his own choice ; this restlessness was the only powerful emo- 
 tion of his mind. Beyond this, he had no energy, no activity of cou- 
 rage either for good or for evil ; weakness without kindness, malice 
 without rancour, resentment without anger, indifference for the future, 
 which he was not to live to see, possibly a sincere anxiety for the public 
 welfare, when he could promote it without any danger to himself, 
 but chilled the moment it involved either his credit or his quiet such 
 to the last were the characteristics of the old statesman who served the 
 young King as his guide and counsellor." 
 
 The former part of this portrait, remarkable as well for its faithful 
 representation of the original, as for the skill of the painter, will be 
 found among the Historical Illustrations (letter Q). We will only add 
 to this note, that the judgment formed by Madame Campan upon the 
 culpable conduct of the Count de Maurepas, is confirmed by a writer, 
 with whom, in other respects, she is very seldom in accordance. 
 
 "It is known," says Soulavie, "that in 1774, 1775, and 1776, M. de 
 Maurepas stirred up private quarrels between Louis XVI. and his wife, 
 on pretence of the Queen's inconsiderate conduct. M. de Maurepas 
 was fond of interfering in family disputes between man and wife.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 183 
 
 de Vergennes was as hostile to the Queen's influence as M. de 
 Maurepas. It may, therefore, be fairly presumed, since the 
 prime minister durst point out to his King an advantage to be 
 gained by the Queen's degrading herself, that he and M. de 
 Vergennes employed all those means within the reach of power- 
 ful ministers, and availed themselves of the slightest errors of 
 that unfortunate princess, in order to ruin her in the opinion 
 of the public. 
 
 The Queen's pregnancy advanced : Te Denims were sung and 
 prayers offered up in all the cathedrals. At length, on the llth 
 of December, 1778, the Queen felt her pains come on. The 
 royal family, princes of the blood, and great officers of state, 
 passed the night in the rooms adjoining the Queen's bedcham- 
 ber. Madame, the King's daughter, came into the world before 
 mid-day on the 19th of December. The etiquette of allowing 
 all persons indiscriminately to enter at the moment of the deli- 
 very of a Queen, was observed so literally, that at the instant 
 when the accoucheur, Vermond, said aloud, La reine va s'ac- 
 coucher, the torrents of inquisitive persons who poured into the 
 chamber were so great and tumultuous, that the rush was near 
 destroying the Queen. During the night the King had taken 
 the precaution to have the enormous tapestry screens, which 
 surrounded her majesty's bed, secured with cords : had it not 
 been for this foresight they certainly would have been thrown 
 down upon her. It was impossible to move about the chamber, 
 which was filled with so motley a crowd, that any one might 
 have fancied himself in some place of public amusement. Two 
 Savoyards got upon the furniture to obtain a better sight of the 
 Queen, who was placed opposite the fireplace, upon a bed pre- 
 pared for the moment of delivery. The noise, and the sex of 
 the infant, which the Queen was made acquainted with by a 
 signal previously agreed on, as it is said, with the Princess de 
 Lamballe, or some error of the accoucheur, brought on symptoms 
 which threatened the most fatal consequences; the accoucheur 
 
 The go-betweens, whom he made use of, raised the strongest prejudices 
 against the Queen." Note by the Editors. 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 184 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 exclaimed : "Give her air warm water she must be bled in 
 the foot !" The windows were caulked up ; the King opened 
 them with a strength which his affection for the Queen gave 
 him at the moment. They were of great height, and pasted 
 over with strips of paper all round. The basin of hot water not 
 being brought quickly enough, the accoucheur desired the chief 
 surgeon to use his lancet without waiting for it. He did so ; 
 the blood streamed out freely, and the Queen opened her eyes. 
 The joy which now succeeded to the most dreadful apprehen- 
 sions, could hardly be contained. The Princess de Lamballe 
 was carried through the crowd in a state of insensibility. The 
 valets de chambre and pages dragged such inconsiderate persons 
 as would not leave the room, out by the collar. This cruel eti- 
 quette was abolished ever afterwards. The princes of the family, 
 the princes of the blood, the chancellor and the ministers are 
 surely sufficient to attest the legitimacy of an hereditary prince. 
 The Queen was snatched from the very jaws of death ; she was 
 not conscious of having been bled, and on being replaced in bed, 
 asked why she had a linen bandage upon her foot. 
 
 The delight which succeeded the moment of fear, was equally 
 lively and sincere. We were all embracing each other, and 
 shedding tears of joy. The Count d'Esterhazy and the Prince 
 de Poix, to whom I was the first to announce that the Queen 
 had spoken and was restored to life, inundated me with their 
 tears, and embraced me in the midst of a whole room full of 
 the nobility. When recalling those bursts of happiness, those 
 transports of delight, that moment when heaven gave us back 
 again a princess beloved by all about her, how often have I 
 reflected upon that impenetrable and wholesome obscurity, by 
 which all knowledge of the future is concealed from us ! What 
 should we not have felt, if in the midst of our joyful delirium, 
 a heavenly voice, unfolding the secret decree of fate, had cried 
 to us : " Bless not that human art which calls her back to life ; 
 weep rather for her return to a world, fatal and cruel to the 
 object of your affections. Ah! let her leave it honoured, 
 beloved, regretted. You can now weep over her grave, you can
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 186 
 
 now cover it with flowers the day will come when all the furies 
 of the earth, after having pierced her heart with a thousand 
 envenomed darts; after having engraven on her noble and 
 enchanting features the premature marks of age, will deliver 
 her over to an execution more cruel than that inflicted upon 
 criminals; will deprive her body of burial, and will precipitate 
 you into the same gulf with herself, if you suffer the slightest 
 demonstration of compassion, at so dreadful a spectacle, to 
 escape you."
 
 186 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Public Rejoicings Death of Maria Theresa; the Queen's Affliction 
 Anecdotes of Maria Theresa Birth of the Dauphin Bankruptcy of 
 the Prince de Gue'me'ne'e The Duchess de Polignac is appointed Go- 
 verness of the Children of France Jealousy of the Court People 
 Interesting particulars Stay at Trianon Mode of Life there Pre- 
 sumption of the Duke de Fronsac American war Franklin M. de 
 la Fayette Order for admitting none but Gentlemen to the rank of 
 Officer Spirit of the Third Estate. 
 
 Ax length the Queen was restored to our fondest wishes. 
 During the moment of alarm, regret at not possessing an heir to 
 the throne, was not even thought of. The King himself was 
 wholly occupied with the care of preserving an adored wife. 
 The young princess was presented to the Queen. She pressed 
 her to her truly maternal heart : " Poor little one," said she, 
 "you are not what was wished for, but you are not on that 
 account less dear to me. A son would have been rather the 
 property of the state. You shall be mine; you shall have my 
 undivided care, shall share all my happiness, and console me in 
 all my troubles." 
 
 The King despatched a courier to Paris; and wrote letters 
 himself to Vienna, by the Queen's bedside : part of the rejoic- 
 ings ordered took place in the capital, and the age of the King 
 and Queen affording ground for a presumption that they would 
 have a numerous progeny, hope was again turned towards a new 
 pregnancy.* 
 
 * The Queen's propitious delivery was celebrated throughout France. 
 The birth of Madame inspired more than one poet. The following 
 madrigal, by Jmbert, was much esteemed :
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 187 
 
 A great number of attendants watched near the Queen during 
 the first nights of her confinement. This made her uneasy; she 
 knew how to feel for others, and ordered large arm-chairs for 
 her women, the backs of which were capable of being let down 
 by springs, and which served perfectly well instead of beds. 
 
 M. de Lassone, the chief physician, the chief surgeon, the 
 chief apothecary, the principal officers of the buttery, &c., &c., 
 were likewise nine nights without going to bed. The royal 
 children were in like manner watched for a long time, and some 
 one of the nurses remained nightly up and dressed during the 
 first three years from their birth. 
 
 The Queen made her entry into Paris for the churching. One 
 hundred maidens were portioned and married at Notre Dame. 
 There were only a few popular acclamations, but her majesty 
 was perfectly well received at the opera.* 
 
 A dauphin we asked of our Queen ; 
 
 A princess announces him near 
 Since one of the graces is seen, 
 Young Cupid will quickly appear. 
 
 Note by the Editor. 
 
 * The acts of benevolence performed by the officers of the city did 
 not prevent them from amusing the people with the usual noisy fetes. 
 There were illuminations, feux de joie, fire-works, fountains of wine, 
 and distributions of bread and sausages. All the theatres of Paris 
 were open, gratis that was a new treat to the public. Every theatre 
 was full before noon, and the performance began at two o'clock. 
 The French comedians performed Zaire and the little piece called, Le 
 Florentin. In spite of all the precautions taken to preserve the King's 
 box for the charcoal venders, who were accustomed to occupy it on 
 similar occasions, as the poissardes, or market women did that of the 
 Queen, their places were occupied when they arrived. They were in- 
 formed of this, and thought it very strange. These two chief classes 
 of the lower orders were seen disputing upon etiquette, with almost as 
 much pertinacity as noblemen or sovereign courts. They demanded to 
 know why the boxes, appropriated to them by custom, had been suffered 
 to be occupied. It was necessary to call the officer for the week, and 
 the histrionic senate being assembled in consultation, the registers 
 were inspected, and the legitimacy of the claim was acknowledged, 
 
 17* 

 
 188 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 A few days after the Queen's recovery from her confinement^ 
 the cure" of the Magdelaine de la Cite, at Paris, wrote to 
 M. Campan, and requested a private interview with him; it 
 was to desire he would deliver into the hands of the Queen, a 
 little box, containing her wedding ring, with this note written by 
 the cure" : " I have received under the seal of confession, the 
 ring which I send to your majesty; with an avowal, that it was 
 stolen from you in 1771, in order to be used in sorceries, to pre- 
 vent your having any children." On seeing her ring again, the 
 "Queen said that she had, in fact, lost it about seven years before, 
 while washing her hands ; and that she had made it a rule with 
 herself to use no endeavour to discover the superstitious woman 
 who had done her the injury. 
 
 The Queen's attachment for the Countess Jules increased 
 every day ; she went frequently to her house at Paris, and even 
 took up her own abode at the Chateau de la Muette, to be more 
 at hand to visit her during her confinement.* She married Ma- 
 
 An offer was then made to the charcoal venders to go upon the stage, 
 and they all sat there on the King's side, upon benches prepared for 
 them. The poissardes followed and placed themselves on the opposite 
 side. Such grave questions of precedence well deserve to be particu- 
 larized in memoirs of the times. Since the revolution neither the char- 
 coal venders nor the poissardes are distinguished in the gratis perform- 
 ances ; all ranks are confounded together. It appears to us only just 
 that every one should know his rights and keep his place. 
 
 Note by the Editor. 
 
 * The following extract from Montjoie describes the Queen's feelings 
 towards her friend : 
 
 "The Duchess de Polignac," says Montjoie, in the Life of Marie An- 
 toinette, " actually sunk under the fatigues of the kind of life which 
 her devotion to the Queen had imposed upon her, and which, however, 
 was so little to her taste. Her health declined in an alarming degree : 
 the physicians ordered her the Bath waters. As it was the established 
 custom of the court, that the governess of the children of France should 
 never be absent from them, the duchess saw herself, by this order of 
 the physicians, placed in the alternative, of either continuing an office, 
 the duty of which her bad health prevented from fulfilling or, of resign- 
 ing. She tendered her resignation to the Queen ; who, having listened
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 189 
 
 demoiselle de Polignac, who was scarcely thirteen years of age, 
 to M. de Grrammont, who, on account of this marriage, was made 
 Duke de Guiche, and captain of the King's guards, in reversion 
 after the Duke de Villeroi. The Duchess de (Jurae, Madame 
 Victoire's dame d'honneur, had been promised the place for the 
 Duke de Lorges, her son ; and all this much increased the 
 number of discontented families at court. 
 
 The name of favourite was too openly given to the Countess 
 Jules by her friends : the lot of the favourite of a Queen, is 
 not, in France, a happy one ; the favourites of Kings are treated, 
 out of gallantry, with much greater indulgence. 
 
 A short time after the birth of Madame, the Queen again be- 
 came pregnant ; she had mentioned it only to the King, to her 
 physician, and to a few persons honoured with her intimate con- 
 fidence, when having exerted her strength in pulling up one of 
 the glasses of her carriage, she felt that she had hurt herself, 
 and eight days afterwards she miscarried. The King spent the 
 whole morning at her bed-side, consoling her, and manifesting 
 the tenderest concern for her. The Queen wept exceedingly; 
 the King took her affectionately in his arms, and mingled his 
 tears with hers. The Queen repeated several times that she was 
 glad she had not mentioned her pregnancy in her family ; that 
 people would not have failed to attribute her misfortune to some 
 imprudence of her own, while in fact it had been occasioned by 
 a very simple accident. The King enjoined silence among the 
 
 to her in silence, with her eyes bathed in tears, replied in the following 
 terms : 
 
 " 'You ought not to part from me, nor can you do it your heart 
 coul not suffer it. In the rank I fill, it is difficult to meet with a 
 friend ; and yet it is so useful so comfortable to confide in an estima- 
 ble person ! You do not judge of me as the common herd do you know 
 that the splendour which surrounds me, adds nothing to happiness 
 you are not ignorant that my mind, full of bitterness and troubles which I 
 must conceal, feels the necessity for a heart that feels them. Ought I 
 not then to thank Heaven for having given me a friend, like you faith- 
 ful, feeling, attached to me for my own sake, and not for the sake of 
 my rank ? The benefit is inestimable ! for God's sake do not deprive 
 me of it.' "- -Note by the Editor.
 
 190 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 small number of persons who were informed of this unfortunate 
 occurrence ; and it remained generally unknown. It was some 
 time before the Queen recovered her health ; the King was much 
 interested in it, and waited impatiently for the moment when 
 new Lopes might be indulged. These particulars, which are 
 punctually true, furnish the most accurate idea of the manner 
 in which this august couple lived together. 
 
 The Empress Maria Theresa did not enjoy the happiness of 
 seeing her daughter give an heir to the crown of France. That 
 illustrious princess terminated her mortal career about the close 
 of 1780, after having proved by her example that, as in the 
 instance of Queen Blanche, the talents of a sovereign might be 
 blended with the virtues of a pious princess. The King was 
 deeply affected at the death of the Empress ; and on the arrival 
 of the courier from Vienna, said, that he could not bring him- 
 self to afflict the Queen by informing her of an event, which 
 grieved even him so much. His majesty thought the Abb4 de 
 Vermond, who had possessed the confidence of Maria Theresa, 
 during his stay at Vienna, the most proper person to discharge 
 this painful duty towards the Queen. He sent his first valet de 
 chambre, M. de Chamilly, to him on the evening of the day he 
 received the despatches from Vienna, and ordered him to come 
 the next day to the Queen before her breakfast hour : to acquit 
 himself discreetly of the afflicting commission with which he 
 was charged ; and to let his majesty know the moment of his 
 entering the Queen's chamber. It was the King's intention to 
 be there about a quarter of an hour after him, and he was punc- 
 tual to his time ; he was announced ; the Abb6 came out ; and 
 his majesty said to him, as he drew up at the door to let him 
 pass, " I thank you. Monsieur I'Abbd, for the service you have 
 just done me." This was the only time, during nineteen years, 
 that the King spoke to him. 
 
 So great was the Queen's grief, that it was right to anticipate 
 and provide against its effects. Within an hour after learning 
 the event she put on temporary mourning, while waiting until 
 her court mourning should be ready ; she kept herself shut up
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 191 
 
 in her closet for several days ; went out only to mass; saw none 
 but the royal family ; and received none but the Princess de 
 Lamballe and the Duchess de Polignac. She never ceased talk- 
 ing of the courage, the misfortunes, the abilities and pious virtues 
 of her mother. The feelings of Christian meekness never forsook 
 that princess ; her shroud, and the dress in which she was to be 
 buried, made entirely by her own hands, were found ready pre- 
 pared in one of her rooms. The Queen found no greater 
 comfort in her affliction than talking of her beloved mother; 
 she was thoroughly versed in the various events which distin- 
 guished the Empress's reign, and in all the qualities which ren- 
 dered her dear to her family, her intimates, and her people 
 She often testified the regret she felt in thinking that the 
 numerous duties of her august mother had prevented her watch- 
 ing, in person, over the education of her daughters; and 
 modestly said, that she herself should have been more worthy, 
 if she had bad the good fortune to receive lessons directly from 
 a sovereign so enlightened, and so deserving of admiration.* 
 
 These pages were penned long after I was witness to, and 
 and sometimes depository of, things which would have been 
 well worth recording. I regret the loss of several anecdotes of 
 the court of Maria Theresa of which I have only confused ideas 
 remaining ; but I cannot avoid relating one in particular, which 
 struck me forcibly, and which still adheres to my memory. The 
 Queen told me one day, that her mother was left a widow at an 
 age when her beauty was yet striking : that she was secretly 
 informed of a scheme projected by her three principal ministers, 
 to make themselves agreeable to her ; of a compact made be- 
 
 * Without desiring to lessen the high estimation in which the virtues 
 and character of Maria Theresa may be justly held, it cannot be denied 
 that in strictness certain acts of her policy are censurable. The com- 
 plaisance or the weakness of the other cabinets of Europe did not 
 excuse her. "A bishop of Saint Brieux, in a funeral oration upon 
 Maria Theresa," says Chamfort, "got over the partition of Poland very 
 easily : ' France,' said he, ' having taken no notice of the partition in 
 question, I will do as France did, and be silent about it likewise.' " 
 
 Note by the Editort.
 
 192 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tween them, that the losers should not suffer themselves to be 
 infected with any feeling of jealousy towards him who should 
 be fortunate enough to gain his sovereign's heart; and that they 
 had sworn that the successful one should be always the friend 
 and support of the other two. The Empress, being well assured 
 of this fact, one day, after the breaking up of the council, over 
 which she had presided, turned the conversation upon the sub- 
 ject of women, female sovereigns, and the duties of their sex 
 and rank ; and then applying her general reflections to herself 
 in particular, she told them she hoped to guard herself all her 
 life against weakness of the heart ; but that if qver an irresisti- 
 ble feeling should make her alter her resolution, it should be 
 only in favour of a man proof against ambition, not engaged in 
 state affairs, accustomed and attached only to a private life, and 
 its calm enjoyments in a word, if her heart should betray her, 
 so far as to lead her to love a man invested with any important 
 ofiice, from the moment he should discover her sentiments, he 
 should be contented to resign his place and his influence with 
 the public. This was sufficient : the three ministers, more am- 
 bitious than amorous, gave up their projects for ever. 
 
 The Queen's second pregnancy was publicly known in the 
 month of April ; her health was excellent down to the moment 
 of her confinement. At length, on the 22d of October, 1781, 
 she gave birth to a dauphin. So deep a silence prevailed in the 
 room, at the moment the child first saw the light, that the 
 Queen thought she had only produced a daughter; but after 
 the keeper of the seals had declared the sex of the infant, the 
 King went up to the Queen's bed, and said to her, " Madame, 
 you have fulfilled my wishes, and those of France ; you are the 
 mother of a dauphin." The King's joy was boundless; tears 
 streamed from his eyes ; he gave his hand to every one present 
 without distinction ; and his happiness raised him quite above 
 his habitual manner. Cheerful and affable to all, he was inces- 
 santly taking occasion to introduce the words, my son, or the 
 dauphin. As soon as the Queen was in bed, she would see the 
 long-looked-for infant. The Princess de Guemenee brought it
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 193 
 
 to her. The Queen told her there was no necessity for com- 
 mending the precious deposit to her j but, that in order to enable 
 her to attend to him more freely, she would herself share with 
 her the cares which the education of her daughter required. 
 When the dauphin was settled in his apartment, he received the 
 customary homages and visits. The Duke d'Angouleme meet- 
 ing his father at the entrance of the dauphin's apartment, said 
 to him, " 0, papa ! how little my cousin is I" " The day will 
 come when you will think him great enough, my dear," an- 
 swered the prince, almost involuntarily. 
 
 The birth of the dauphin appeared to crown the hopes of all 
 classes with universal joy; the people, the nobility, all seemed 
 in this respect to belong to one family. Men stopped one 
 another in the streets, spoke without being acquainted, and those 
 who were acquainted embraced each other. Alas ! personal in- 
 terest is much more frequently the source of transports such as 
 these than any sincere attachment to those who seem to occasion 
 them. In the birth of a legitimate heir to the sovereign power, 
 every man beholds a pledge of prosperity and tranquillity.* 
 
 * On the evening of the very day on which the dauphin was born, 
 Madame Billoni, an actress of the Italian theatre, who represented a 
 fairy in the piece then performing, sang some pretty couplets, by Im- 
 bert, of which the following is the sense : 
 
 On fairy pinions I advance, 
 Great tidings to impart ; 
 An infant prince is born to France, 
 
 And cheers each loyal heart. 
 Long may this cherish'd dauphin wait, 
 
 Ere he the throne ascend ; 
 And long with glory rule the state, 
 Before his reign shall end. 
 
 M. Merand de Saint Just made a quatrain on the same subject to 
 the following effect : 
 
 This infant prince our hopes are center'd in, 
 
 Will, doubtless, make us happy, rich and free ; 
 And since with somebody he must begin, 
 My fervent pray'r is that it may be me ! 
 
 Note by the Editor,
 
 194 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The rejoicings were equally splendid and ingenious. The 
 artificers and tradesmen of Paris spent considerable sums, in 
 order to go to Versailles in a body, with their various insignia. 
 Their new and elegant dresses formed a most agreeable sight. 
 Almost every troop had music with it. When they arrived at 
 the court of the palace, they there ranged themselves ingeniously 
 and presented a most interesting moving picture. Chimney- 
 sweepers, quite as well dressed as those that appear upon the 
 stage, carried an ornamented chimney, at the top of which was 
 perched one of the smallest of their fraternity. The chairmen 
 carried a sedan highly gilt, in which were to be seen a handsome 
 nurse and a little dauphin. The butchers made their appear- 
 ance, graced with good fat beef. Cooks, masons, blacksmiths, 
 all trades were on the alert. The smiths hammered away upon 
 an anvil, the shoemakers finished off a little pair of boots for 
 the dauphin, and the tailors a little suit of the uniform of his 
 regiment. The King remained a long time upon a balcony to 
 enjoy the sight. The whole court was delighted with it. So 
 general was the enthusiasm, that (the police not having carefully 
 examined the procession), the grave-diggers had the impudence 
 to send their deputation also, with the emblematic devices of 
 their ill-omened occupation. They were met by the princess 
 Sophie, the King's aunt, who was thrilled with horror at the 
 sight, and entreated the King to have the audacious fellows 
 driven out of the procession, which was then drawing up on the 
 terrace. 
 
 The market-women came to congratulate the Queen, and were 
 received with the ceremonies due to that body of dealers. They 
 appeared to the number of fifty, dressed in black silk gowns, 
 the old established full dress of their order ; and they almost 
 all wore diamonds. The Princess de Chimay went to the door 
 of the Queen's bed-room to receive three of these ladies, who 
 were led up to the Queen's bed. One of them addressed her 
 majesty in a speech written by M. de la Harpe. It was set 
 down on the inside of a fan, to which the speaker repeatedly 
 referred, but without any embarrassment. She was handsome,
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 195 
 
 and had a remarkably fine voice. The Queen was affected by the 
 address, and answered it with great affability : making a distinc- 
 tion between these women and the poissardes, who always left 
 a disagreeable impression on her mind.* The King ordered a 
 substantial repast for all these women. One of his majesty'sf 
 maitres d' hotel, wearing his hat, sat as president, and did the 
 honours of the table. The public were admitted, and numbers 
 of people had the curiosity to go. 
 
 The Poissardes' songs were numerous, and some of them 
 tolerably good. The King and Queen were much pleased with 
 the following one, and sang it several times during the Queen's 
 confinement : 
 
 Ne craignez pas, cher papa, 
 
 D'voir augmenter vot' famille 
 Le bon Dieu z'y pourvoira : 
 
 Fait's-en tant que Versaille en fourmillc 
 Yeut il cent Bourbons cheu nous, 
 
 Y a du pain, du laurier pour tous. 
 
 * The poissardes spoke three addresses ; one to the King, one to the 
 Queen, and one to the dauphin. Possibly the reader may wish to see 
 them. To the king they said : 
 
 " Sire, if a son was due from heaven to a king who looks upon his 
 people as his family, our prayers and our wishes have long interceded 
 for one. At length they are heard. We are now certain that our chil- 
 dren will be as happy as ourselves ; for this child will be like you. You 
 will teach him, Sire, to be as just and good as yourself. We will take 
 upon ourselves to teach our children how to love and respect their King." 
 To the Queen they said, among other things, '" We have so long loved 
 you, Madame, wit'iout daring to say so to yourself, that all our respect 
 is necessary to p event our mis-using the permission now given to us 
 to express it." And to the dauphin they said: " You do not understand 
 the wishes we express around your cradle they will some day be 
 explained to you. They .are all reducible to this, namely, that in you 
 we may behold the image of those who gave you life." Anecdotes of 
 the Reign of Louis XVI., Volume I. Note by the Editors. 
 
 f Proofs of nobility, or at least of being noble in the third degree, 
 were required for the office of maitre-d'hotel. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan. 
 VOL. I. 18
 
 196 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The body-guards obtained the King's permission to give the 
 Queen a dress-ball in the great room of the opera-house, at 
 Versailles. Her majesty opened the ball in a minuet with a 
 private, selected by the corps, to whom the King granted the 
 baton of an exempt. The fete was most splendid. All was 
 joy, happiness, and peace. 
 
 The dauphin was a year old, when the Prince de GuemeneVs 
 bankruptcy compelled the princess, his wife, who was governess 
 to the children of France, to resign her situation.* 
 
 The Queen was at La Muette, where her daughter was under- 
 going inoculation. She sent for me, and condescended to say, 
 she wished to converse with me about a scheme which delighted 
 her, but in the execution of which she foresaw some inconve- 
 niences. Her plan was, to appoint the Duchess de Polignac to 
 the office lately heid by the Princess de Gruemenee. She saw 
 with ecstasy the facility which this appointment would give her 
 to superintend the education of her children, without running 
 any risk of hurting the pride of the governess; and that it 
 would bring together, in one place, all the objects of her warm- 
 est affections, her children and her friend. " The friends of 
 the Duchess de Polignac," continued the Queen, " will be grati- 
 fied by the splendour and importance conferred by the employ- 
 
 * Le Brun had deposited all his savings with the Prince de Gue'me'ne'e, 
 whose bankruptcy ruined him. He revenged himself by the following 
 epigrammatic lines; in which may be seen the bitterness of a satirical 
 poet, and the resentment of a creditor : 
 
 A prince full of titles a sharper serene 
 
 Eased our purses of millions a few ; 
 See what troops of old men ! what despair in iheir mien ! 
 
 How humbly for justice they sue! 
 A kind rogue of a clerk (for like master like man), 
 Thus seeks to console him as well as he can : 
 " Take courage, old gentlemen, dry up your tears, 
 
 For princes of honour and conscience are made, 
 ll you will but have patience, some odd fifty years, 
 
 Without loss or deduction you all will be paid." 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 107 
 
 ment. As to the duchess, I know her : the place by no means 
 suits her plain and quiet habits, nor the indolence (if I may use 
 the expression) of her disposition. If she yields to my wish, 
 then, she will give me the greatest possible proof of her devo- 
 tion to me." The Queen also spoke of the Princess de Chimay 
 and the Duchess de Duras, whom the public pointed out as fit 
 to fill the place of governess; but she thought the Princess de 
 Chimay's piety too rigid; and as to the Duchess de Duras, her 
 wit and knowledge quite frightened her. What the Queen 
 dreaded as the consequence of her selection of the Duchess de 
 Polignac, was, principally, the jealousy of the courtiers, who 
 would never fail to make her feel the mortifications inseparable 
 from that elevation. The Queen showed so lively a desire to 
 see the execution of her scheme, that I had no doubt she would 
 soon set at nought the obstacles she discovered ; I was not mis- 
 taken. A few days afterwards, the duchess was invested with 
 the office of governess. 
 
 The Queen's object in sending for me to converse about her 
 scheme, was, no doubt, to furnish me with the means of explain- 
 ing the feelings which induced her to prefer a governess disposed 
 by friendship to suffer her to enjoy all the privileges of a 
 mother. Her majesty knew that I saw a great deal of company. 
 
 The Queen frequently dined at the duchess's, after having 
 been present at the King's private dinner. Sixty-one thousand 
 francs were therefore added to the salary of the latter as gover- 
 ness, as a compensation for this increase of expense. 
 
 The Queen was tired of the excursions to Marly, and had no 
 great difficulty in setting the King against them. He did not 
 like the expense of them, for everybody was entertained there 
 gratis. Louis XIV., established a kind of parade upon these 
 excursions, differing from that of Versailles, but still more 
 annoying. 
 
 Card and supper parties occurred perpetually and occasioned 
 much expense in dress. 
 
 On Sundays and holidays, the fountains played, the peonies
 
 198 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 were admitted into the gardens, and there was always as great a 
 crowd as at the fete of Saint Cloud. 
 
 Every age has its peculiar complexion and that very decidedly. 
 Marly showed the colour of that of Louis XIV. even more than 
 Versailles. Everything in the former place appeared to have 
 been produced by the magic power of a fairy's wand. 
 
 The palaces and gardens of that seat of pleasure might be 
 also compared to the scenic decorations of the fifth act of an 
 opera. Not the slightest trace of all this splendour remains : the 
 revolutionary spoilers even tore up from the bosom of the earth, 
 the pipes which served to supply the fountains. Possibly a brief 
 description of this palace and the usages established there by 
 Louis XV. may be acceptable. 
 
 The very extensive garden of Marly rose, by an imperceptible 
 ascent, up to the pavilion of the sun, which was occupied only 
 by the King and his family. The pavilions of the twelve zodia- 
 cal signs bounded the two sides of the lawn. They were con- 
 nected by elegant bowers impervious to the rays of the sun. 
 The pavilions nearest to that of the sun, were reserved for the 
 princes of the blood and the ministers, the rest were occupied 
 by persons holding superior offices at court, or by persons invited 
 to stay at Marly. Each pavilion was named after fresco paint- 
 ings, which covered its walls, and which were executed by the 
 most celebrated artists of the age of Louis XIV.* 
 
 Upon a line with the upper pavilion there was, on the left, 
 the chapel ; on the right a pavilion, called La Perspective, which 
 concealed a long suite of offices, containing a hundred lodging- 
 rooms, appropriated to the persons belonging to the service of 
 the court, kitchens, and spacious dining-rooms, in which more 
 than thirty tables were splendidly laid out. 
 
 During one half of Louis XV.'s reign, the ladies still wore 
 the Marly court dress, so named by Louis XIV., and which 
 
 * Her royal highness the Duchess de Berry has, at Jlosney, a paint- 
 ing, which exactly represents the mansion, pavilions, and gardens of 
 Marly. This resemblance alone is now sufficient to make the picture 
 very valuable. Note by the Editor,
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 199 
 
 differed but little from that devised for Versailles. The French 
 gown, puckered in the back, and great hoops, succeeded this 
 dress, and maintained their ground to the end of the reign of 
 Louis XVI. 
 
 The diamonds, feathers, rouge, and embroidered stuffs, span- 
 gled with gold, banished even the slightest traces of rural 
 character from this spot; but the people loved to see the splen- 
 dour of their sovereign and a brilliant court glittering in the 
 shades of the woods. 
 
 After dinner, and before the hour for cards, the Queen, 
 princesses, and their ladies, paraded among the clumps of trees, 
 in little carriages, beneath canopies richly embroidered with 
 gold, rolled forward by the King's livery servants. The trees 
 were planted by Louis XIV., and were of prodigious height, 
 which, however, was surpassed, in several of the groups, by 
 fountains of the clearest water; while among others, cascades 
 over white marble, the waters of which, being met by the sun- 
 beams, looked like draperies of silver gauze, formed a contrast 
 to the solemn darkness of the groves. 
 
 In the evening, nothing more was necessary for any well- 
 dressed man, to procure admission to the Queen's card-parties, 
 than to be named, and presented by some officer of the court, 
 to the gentleman-usher of the card-room. This room, which 
 was very large, and of octagonal shape, rose to the very top of 
 the Italian roof, and terminated in a cupola, furnished with 
 balconies, in which females who had not been presented, easily 
 obtained leave to place themselves, and enjoy the sight of the 
 brilliant assemblage. 
 
 Though not of the number of persons belonging to the court, 
 gentlemen admitted into this saloon, were allowed to request 
 one of the ladies seated with the Queen, at lansquenet or faro, 
 to bet upon her cards, with such gold or notes as they presented 
 to her. 
 
 Rich people, and the deep gamesters of Paris, did not miss 
 one of the evenings at the Marly saloon, and there were always 
 very considerable sums won and lost. 
 
 18*
 
 200 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Louis XVI. hated high play, and very often showed displea- 
 sure, when the loss of large sums was mentioned.* The fashion 
 of wearing a hlack coat without being in mourning, had not 
 then been introduced, and the King gave a few raps on the 
 knuckles to certain Chevaliers de Saint Louis, dressed in this 
 manner, who came to venture two or three Louis, in the hope 
 that fortune would favour the handsome duchesses, who deigned 
 to play them on their cards. f 
 
 Singular contrasts are often seen amidst the grandeur of 
 courts. In order to manage such high play at the Queen's faro 
 table, it -was necessary to have a banker provided with large 
 sums of money, and this necessity placed at the table, to which 
 none but the highest-titled persons were admitted in general, 
 not only M. de Chalabre, who was the banker, but also a mere 
 retired captain of foot ; who officiated as his second. A low 
 word, appropriated to express the manner in which the court 
 was attended there, was often heard. Gentlemen presented at 
 court, who had not been invited to stay at Marly, came there 
 
 * In 1790, an officer of the national guards, was walking in the 
 apartments of he Tuileries, when the King, having observed him, asked 
 him if he could play at back-gammon. Upon his answering in the 
 affirmative, the King sat down with him to play, and won nine francs 
 of him, at a petit ecu, or half a crown a game. The hour for attending 
 the council being come, the King left him, promising him his revenge 
 another time. (Anecdotes of the Kfifjn of Louis XVI. tome 1.) 
 
 Note by the Editor. 
 
 f Bachaumont, in his Memoirs, which are often satirical and always 
 somewhat questionable, speaks of the singular precautions taken at 
 play at court 
 
 " The bankers at the Queen's table," says he, "in order to prevent 
 the mistakes (I soften the harshness of his expression), which daily 
 happen, have obtained permission from her majesty, that before begin- 
 ning to play, the table shall be bordered by a ribbon entirely round it, 
 and that no otner money than that upon the cards beyond the ribbon, 
 shall be considered as staked." He adds several other particulars, 
 which denote unaccountable errors, but we have too little faith in their 
 truth to repeat them. (Bachaumont's Memoirs, tome 12.) 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 201 
 
 notwithstanding as they did to Versailles, and returned again to 
 Paris ; under such circumstances, it was said such an one had 
 D^n to Marly only en polisson ; and nothing appeared to me 
 more odd, than to hear an agreeable Marquis, in answer to the 
 inquiry of one of his inmates, whether he was of the royal 
 party at Marly, say, " No, I am only here en polisson :" meaning 
 nothing more than, "I am here on the footing of all those 
 whose nobility is of a later date than 1400." What powerful 
 talents, how many persons of merit, who were unhappily destined 
 too soon to attack the ancient monarchy, were in the class desig- 
 nated by the word polisson. 
 
 The Marly excursions were exceedingly expensive to the King. 
 Besides the superior tables, those of the almoners, equerries, 
 maitres d'hotel, &c. &c., were all supplied with such a degree of 
 magnificence, as to allow of inviting strangers to them ; and 
 almost all the visitors from Paris were boarded at the expense 
 of the court. 
 
 The personal frugality of the unfortunate prince, who sunk 
 beneath the weight of the national debts, thus enabled the Queen 
 to indulge her predilection for her Petit Trianon ; and for five or 
 six years preceding the revolution, the court very seldom visited 
 Marly. 
 
 The King, always attentive to the comfort of his family, gave 
 the princesses, his aunts, the enjoyment of the chateau of Belle- 
 vue, and afterwards purchased the Princess de Guemenee's house, 
 at the entrance to Paris, for Madame Elizabeth.* The Countess 
 de Provence bought a small house at Montreuil ' } Monsieur 
 already had Brunoy ; the Countess d' Artois built Bagatelle ; 
 Versailles became, in the estimation of all the members of the 
 royal family, the least agreeable of residences. They only fan- 
 cied themselves at home, in plainer houses, surrounded by English 
 gardens. The taste for cascades and statues was entirely past. 
 
 * Madame Elizabeth enjoyed this house for several years ; but the 
 King arranged that she should not sleep there, until she was twenty-five 
 years of age. The revolution broke out before that time. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 202 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Queen occasionally remained a whole month at Petit 
 Trianon, and had adopted all the ways of a country life. She 
 entered the sitting-room without driving the ladies from their 
 pianoforte, or embroidery. The gentlemen continued their bil- 
 liards or backgammon, without suffering her presence to inter- 
 rupt them. There was but little room in the small chateau of 
 Trianon. Madame Elizabeth accompanied the Queen there, but 
 the ladies of honour, and ladies of the bedchamber, had no esta- 
 blishment at Trianon. When invited by the Queen, they came 
 from Versailles to dinner. The King and princes came regu- 
 larly to sup. A white gown, a gauze kerchief, and a straw hat, 
 were the uniform dress of the princesses.* The pleasure of 
 examining all the manufactories of the hamlet, seeing the cows 
 milked, and fishing in the lake, delighted the Queen ; and every 
 year she showed increased aversion to the pompous excursions 
 to Marly. 
 
 The Queen at first intended to live at Trianon, free from 
 the trouble and display of all artificial amusements; but she 
 changed her mind, and determined to act plays as it was then 
 the fashion to do in most country houses. It was agreed that no 
 other young man than the Count d'Artois should be admitted 
 into the company of performers, and that the audience should 
 consist only of the King, Monsieur, and the princesses, who did 
 not play ; but in order to stimulate the actors a little, the first 
 boxes were to be occupied by the readers, the Queen's ladies, 
 their sisters, and daughters, making altogether about forty 
 persons. 
 
 The Queen laughed heartily at the voice of M. d'Adhemar, 
 formerly a very fine one, but latterly become rather tremulous. 
 His shepherd's dress, in Colin, in the Devin de Village, con- 
 trasted very ridiculously with his time of life, and the Queen 
 repeatedly said it would be difficult for malevolence itself to find 
 
 * The historian of Marie Antoinette adds further points to this picture, 
 and makes some judicious reflection, on the influence of a change of 
 costume upon manners. See the Historical Illustrations, letter (R), 
 the whole of which is by an intelligent observer. Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 203 
 
 anything to criticise in the choice of such a lover. The King 
 was highly amused with these plays. 
 
 Louis XVI. was present at every performance ; he was often 
 waited for before they were begun. Caillot, a celebrated actor, 
 who had long quitted the stage, and Dazincourt, both of ac- 
 knowledged good character, were selected to give lessons, the 
 fir&t in comic opera, which was preferred as easiest, and the 
 second in comedy. The office of hearer of rehearsals, prompter, 
 and stage manager, was given to my father-in-law. The Duke 
 de Fronsac, first gentleman of the chamber, was much hurt at 
 this appointment. He thought himself called upon to make 
 serious remonstrances upon the subject, and wrote to the Queen, 
 who contented herself with making him the following answer : 
 " You cannot be first gentleman, when we are the actors. Be- 
 sides, I have already intimated to you my determination respect- 
 ing Trianon. I hold no court there, I live like a private 
 person, and M. Campan shall be always employed to execute 
 orders relative to the private fetes I choose to give there." This 
 not putting a stop to the duke's remonstrances, the King was 
 obliged to interfere. The duke continued obstinate, and insisted 
 that his rights, as first gentleman of the chamber, allowed him 
 to decline being represented by any deputy ; that he was enti- 
 tled to manage the private amusements, as much as those which 
 were public. It became absolutely necessary to end the argu- 
 ment in a positive manner. 
 
 The diminutive Duke de Fronsac never failed, whenever he 
 came to pay his respects to the Queen at her toilet, to turn the 
 conversation upon Trianon, in order to make some ironical 
 remarks on my father-in-law, of whom, from the time of his 
 appointment, he always spoke as " my colleague Campan." The 
 Queen would shrug up her shoulders, and say, when he was 
 gone, "It is quite shocking to find so little a man in the son of 
 the Marshal de Richelieu." 
 
 La Gageure imprcvue was one of the pieces performed at 
 Trianon. The Queen played Gotte^ the Countess Diana, Ma- 
 dame de Clainville ; Madame Elizabeth, the young woman , and
 
 204 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the Count d'Artois one of the men's characters. Colette in tho 
 Devin de Village, was really very well played by the Queen. 
 They performed also, in the course of the following seasons, Le 
 Roi et le Fermier ; Rose et Colas; le Sorcier; T Anglais a Bour- 
 deaux; On ne s 1 avise jamais de tout} le Barrier de Seville, &c.* 
 
 So long as no strangers were admitted to these performances, 
 th^y were but little censured ; but a profusion of praise enhanced 
 the idea which the performers entertained of their talents, and 
 made them look for a larger circle of admirers. 
 
 The Queen permitted the officers of the body guards, and the 
 equerries of the King and princes, to be present at the play. 
 Private boxes were provided for some of the people belonging to 
 the court ; a few more ladies were invited ; and claims arose on 
 all sides for the favour of admission. 
 
 * These performances, in which Marie Antoinette delighted in taking 
 a part, have been repeatedly censured. Montjoie himself, as may be 
 seen in the Historical Illustrations (S), reproaches the Queen almost 
 with severity, and makes observations, which appear to us not to be 
 quite correct. "Formerly," says he, "any private gentleman would 
 have been disgraced, upon its being known that he had turned actor, 
 even in a family party." We will not decide whether it would have 
 been more disgraceful in a private gentleman to act in a play, or, for 
 instance, like the Count de Grammont, to back with a detachment of 
 cavalry a game of piquet, in which art had corrected fortune ; but we 
 will observe, that in 1701, J. B. Rousseau's Magic Girdle was played 
 by the princes of the blood before the Duchess of Burgundy. (Memoirs 
 for the history of Voltaire, Amsterdam, 1785) Voltaire gives still more 
 minute particulars of these performances, in which private gentlemen 
 would no doubt have been induced to figure. " There was," says he, 
 (tome 21, p. 157) "a small theatre erected in the apartments of Madame 
 de Maintenon. The Duchess of Burgundy, and the Duke of Orleans, with 
 such persons of the court as were most conspicuous for talent, performed 
 there. The eminent actor Baron, instructed them and played with 
 them. The majority of Duchy's tragedies were composed for this thea- 
 tre." We shall add but one word to these positive facts, which is, 
 that the young and lovely Marie Antoinette might well see nothing 
 wrong in an amusement tolerated by Madame de Maintenon, in the 
 p-ur, hypocritical and bigoted court, of the latter years of Louis XIV. 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 205 
 
 The Queen refused to admit the officers of the body guards 
 of the princes, the officers of the King's hundred Swiss guards, 
 and many other persons who were highly mortified at the re- 
 fusal. 
 
 The company, for a private company, was good enough ; and 
 the acting was applauded to the skies; nevertheless, as the 
 audience withdrew, criticisms were plainly heard, and a few of 
 the visitors would observe, that the piece was royally ill played. 
 
 While delight at having given an heir to the throne of the 
 Bourbons, and a succession of fetes and amusements, filled up 
 the happy days of Marie Antoinette, the community was solely 
 engrossed with the Anglo-American war. Two kings, or rather 
 their ministers, planted and propagated the love of liberty in the 
 new world ; the King of England, by shutting his ears and his 
 heart against the continued and respectful representations of 
 subjects at a distance from their native land, who had become 
 numerous, rich, and powerful, through the resources of the soil 
 they had fertilized ; and the King of France, by giving support 
 to a people in rebellion against their ancient sovereign. Many 
 young soldiers, belonging to the first families of the country, 
 followed La Fayette's example, and broke through all the illu- 
 sions of grandeur, and all the charms of luxury, of amusements, 
 and of love, to go and tender their courage and their information 
 to the revolted Americans. Beaumarchais, secretly seconded by 
 Messieurs de Maurepas and de Vcrgennes, obtained permission 
 to send out to the Americans supplies of arms and clothing. 
 Franklin appeared at court in the dress of an American culti- 
 vator. His strait unpowdered hair, his round hat, his brown 
 cloth coat, formed a contrast with the laced and embroidered 
 coats, and the powdered and perfumed heads of the courtiers of 
 Versailles. This novelty turned the enthusiastic heads of the 
 French women. Elegant entertainments were given to Doctor 
 Franklin, who, to the reputation of a most skilful naturalist, 
 added the patriotic virtues which had invested him with the 
 noble character of an apostle of liberty. I was present at one 
 of these entertainments, when the most beautiful woman out of
 
 206 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 three hundred, was selected to place a crown of laurels upon the 
 white head of the American philosopher, and two kisses upon 
 his cheeks.* Even in the palace of Versailles, Franklin's me- 
 dallion was sold under the King's eyes, in the exhibition of 
 Sevres procelain. The legend of this medallion was : 
 
 Eripuit ccelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis. 
 
 The King never declared his opinion upon an enthusiasm 
 which his correct judgment, no doubt, led him to blame : how- 
 ever, the Countess Diana having, to keep up to her character as 
 a woman of superior talent, entered with considerable warmth 
 into the idolatry of the American delegate, a jest was played 
 off upon her, which was kept secret enough, and may give us 
 some idea of the private sentiments of Louis XVI. He had a 
 vase de nuit made at the Sevres manufactory, at the bottom of 
 which was the medallion with its fashionable legend, and he 
 sent the utensil to the Countess Diana, as a new year's gift. 
 The Queen spoke out more plainly about the part France was 
 taking respecting the independence of the American colonies, 
 and constantly opposed it. Far was she from foreseeing that a 
 revolution at such a distance, could excite one in which the day 
 would come, when a misguided populace would drag her from 
 her palace to a death equally unjust and cruel. She only saw 
 something ungenerous in the method which France adopted, 
 of checking the power of England. 
 
 * Benjamin Franklin spent the earlier part of his life in the labour 
 of the printing house. When the news of his death arrived in Paris, in 
 1790, a society of printers met in an apartment of the Cordeliers convent, 
 to celebrate a funeral festival in honour of the American philosopher. His 
 bust -was elevated upon a column in the middle of the room. Upon the 
 head was placed a civic crown ; below the bust were compositor's cases, a 
 press, and other emblems of the art, which the sage had cultivated. 
 While one printer was pronouncing an eulogium upon Franklin, work- 
 men were printing it, and the speech, composed and pulled off as fast as 
 uttered, was copiously distributed among the spectators brought together 
 by this entertainment. The Historical Illustrations contain some par- 
 ticulars respecting Benjamin Franklin, letter (T). Nole by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 207 
 
 However, as Queen of France, she enjoyed the sight of a 
 whole people rendering homage to the prudence, courage, and 
 good qualities of a young Frenchman ; and she shared the 
 enthusiasm inspired by the conduct and military success of the 
 Marquis de la Fayette. The Queen granted him several 
 audiences on his first return from America, and, until the 10th 
 of August, on which day my house was plundered, I had pre- 
 served some lines from Gaston and Bayard, in which the friends 
 of M. de la Fayette saw the exact outline of his character, 
 written by her own hand : 
 
 -why talk of youth, 
 
 When all the ripe experience of the old 
 
 Dwells with him ? In his schemes profound and cool, 
 
 He acts with wise precaution, and reserves 
 
 For times of action his impetuous fire. 
 
 To guard the camp, to scale the leaguer'd wall, 
 
 Or dare the hottest of the fight, are toils 
 
 That suit the impetuous bearing of his youth ; 
 
 Yet like the gray-haired veteran, he can shun 
 
 The field of peril. Still before my eyes 
 
 I place his bright example, for I love 
 
 His lofty courage, and his prudent thought. 
 
 Gifted like him a warrior has no age.* 
 
 * "During the American war, a general officer in the service of the 
 United States^ advanced with a score of men under the English batte- 
 ries to reconnoitre their position. His aide-de-camp, struck by a ball, 
 fell at his side ; the officers and orderly dragoons fled precipitately. 
 The general, though under the fire of the cannon, approached the 
 wounded man to see whether he had any signs of life remaining, or 
 whether any help could be afforded him. Finding the wound had been 
 mortal, he turned his eyes away with emotion, and slowly rejoined the 
 group which had got out of the reach of the pieces. This instance of 
 courage and humanity took place at the battle of Monmouth. General 
 Clinton, who commanded the English troops, knew that the Marquis de 
 la Fayette generally rode a white horse ; it was upon a white horse that 
 the general officer who retired so slowly, was mounted : Clinton desired 
 the gunners not to fire. This noble forbearance probably saved M. de 
 la Fayettc's life, for it was he himself. At that time he was but twenty- 
 two years of age." Historical Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVI. 
 
 VOL. I. 19 Not* by the Editoi
 
 208 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 These lines were applauded and encored at the French theatre : 
 all was delirium. There was no class of persons that did not 
 heartily approve of the support given openly by the French 
 government to the cause of American independence. The con- 
 stitution desired for the new nation was digested at Paris, and 
 while liberty, equality, and the rights of man, were commented 
 upon by the Condorcets, Baillys, Mirabeaus, &c., the minister 
 Segur published the King's edict, which by repealing that of 
 1st November, 1750, declared all officers not noble by four 
 generations, incapable of filling the rank of captain, and denied 
 all military rank to those who were not gentlemen, excepting 
 sons of the Chevaliers de Saint Louis.* The injustice and 
 absurdity of this law, was, no doubt, a secondary cause of the 
 revolution. To be aware of the extent of despair, nay of rage, 
 with which this law inspired the third estate, we should form 
 part of that honourable class. The provinces were full of ple- 
 beian families, who, for ages, had lived as people of property 
 upon their own domains, and paid the subsidies. If these 
 persons had several sons, they would place one in the King's 
 service, one in the church, another in the order of Malta, as a 
 chevalier servant d'armcs, and one in the magistracy, while the 
 eldest preserved the paternal manor. If the family were situated 
 in a country celebrated for wine, they would, besides selling 
 their own produce, add a kind of commission trade in the wines 
 of the canton. I have seen an individual of this justly re- 
 spected class, who had been long employed in diplomatic 
 business, and even honoured with the title of minister plenipo- 
 tentiary, the son-in-law and nephew of colonels^ and majors de 
 
 * We read the following anecdote upon this subject, by Chamfort. 
 He tells it with his usual caustic feeling. " M. de Segur having pub- 
 lished an ordinance which prohibited the admission of any other than 
 gentlemen into the artillery corps, and on the other hand, none but well 
 educated persons being proper for admission, a curious scene took place : 
 the Abb6 Bossat, examiner of the pupils, gave certificates only to ple- 
 beians, while Cherin gave them only to gentlemen. Out of one hundred 
 pupils, there were not above four or five who were qualified in both 
 respects." Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 209 
 
 place, and, on his mother's side, nephew of a lieutenant-general 
 with a cordon rouge, unable to introduce his sons as junior lieu- 
 tenants into a regiment of foot. 
 
 Another decision of the court, but which could not be an- 
 nounced by an edict, was that all ecclesiastical benefices, from 
 the humblest priory up to the richest abbey, should in future be 
 appendages to nobility. Being the son of a village surgeon, the 
 Abbe" de Vermond, who had great influence in the disposition of 
 benefices, was particularly struck with the justice of this decree 
 of the King. 
 
 During the absence of the abbe" in an excursion he made for 
 his health, I prevailed on the Queen to write a postcript to the 
 petition of a curate, one of my friends, who was soliciting a 
 priory near his curacy, with the intention of retiring to it. I 
 obtained him his object. On the abba's return, he heard of 
 this, came to my house and told me very harshly, that I acted 
 in a manner quite contrary to the King's wishes, in obtaining 
 similar favours ; that the wealth of the church was for the future 
 to be invariably devoted to the support of the poorer nobility ; 
 that it was the interest of the state that it should be so ; and a 
 plebeian priest, happy in a good curacy, had only to remain 
 curate. 
 
 Can we then wonder at the line of conduct shortly afterwards 
 adopted by the deputies of the third estate, when called to the 
 states general ?
 
 210 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Visit of the Grand Duke of Russia and his Duchess to France Enter- 
 tainment and supper at Trianon Cardinal de Rohan Cold reception 
 given to Count d'Haga (Gustavus III. King of Sweden) Peace with 
 England The English flock into France Conduct to be observed 
 at Court Mission of the Chevalier de Bressac to the Queen Court 
 of Naples Queen Caroline, the Minister Acton Debates between the 
 Courts of Naples and Madrid Insolent reply of the Spanish Ambas- 
 sador to Queen Caroline Interference of France M. M. de Segur 
 and de Castries appointed Ministers through the Queen's influence 
 Treachery of M. de Maurepas towards M. Necker Appointment of 
 M. de Calonne Judicious Reflections of Marie Antoinette. 
 
 ABOUT the close of the last century, several of the northern 
 sovereigns took pleasure in travelling. Christian III., King of 
 Denmark, visited the court of France in 1763, under the reign 
 of Louis XV. We saw the King of Sweden and Joseph II., at 
 Versailles. The Grand Duke of Russia, son of Catherine II., 
 (afterwards Paul I.) and the Princess of Wirtemberg, his wife, 
 likewise resolved to visit France. They travelled under the 
 titles of the Count and Countess du Nord. They were presented 
 on the 20th of May, 1782. The Queen received them with in- 
 finite grace and dignity. On the day of their arrival at Ver- 
 sailles, they dined in private with the King and Queen. 
 
 The plain, unassuming appearance of Paul I., pleased Louis 
 XVI. He spoke to him with more confidence and cheerfulness, 
 than he had done to Joseph II. The Countess du Nord was 
 not at first so successful with the Queen. This lady was of a 
 fine height, very fat for her age, with all the stiffness of the 
 German demeanour, well informed, and perhaps displayed her 
 acquirements with rather too much confidence. At the moment
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 211 
 
 the Count and Countess du Nord were presented, the Queen was 
 exceedingly intimidated. She withdrew into her closet before 
 
 O / 
 
 she went into the room where she was to dine with the illus- 
 trious travellers, and asked for a glass of water, confessing, "she 
 had just experienced how much more difficult it was to play the 
 part of a Queen in the presence of other sovereigns, or of princes 
 born to become so, than before courtiers." 
 
 She soon recovered from her first confusion, and made her 
 reappearance with ease and confidence. The dinner was tolera- 
 bly cheerful, and the conversation very animated. 
 
 Brilliant entertainments were given at court in honour of the 
 King of Sweden and the Count du Nord. They were received 
 in private by the King and Queen ; but they were treated with 
 much more ceremony than the Emperor, and their majesties 
 always appeared to me to be very cautious before these person- 
 ages. However, the King one day asked the Grand Duke of 
 Russia, if it were true that he could not rely on the fidelity of 
 any one of those who accompanied him. The prince answered 
 him without hesitation, and before a considerable number of 
 persons, that he should be very sorry to have with him even a 
 poodle dog that was much attached to him, because his mother 
 would take care to have it thrown into the Seine, with a stone 
 round its neck, before he should leave Paris. This reply, which 
 I myself heard, quite thrilled me with horror, whether it de- 
 picted the disposition of Catherine, or expressed the prince's 
 prejudice against her. 
 
 The Queen gave the grand duke a supper at Trianon, and had 
 the gardens illuminated, as they had been for the Emperor. 
 The Cardinal de Rohan very indiscreetly ventured to introduce 
 himself there, without the Queen's knowledge. Having always 
 been treated with the utmost coolness ever since his return from 
 Vienna, he had not dared to ask her himself for permission to 
 see the illumination ; but he persuaded the porter of Trianon to 
 admit him as soon as the Queen should have set off for Ver- 
 sailles, and his eminence engaged to remain in the porter's lodge 
 until all the carriages should have left the chateau. He did not 
 
 19*
 
 212 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 keep his word, and while the porter was busy in the discharge 
 of his duty, the cardinal, who had kept on his red stockings, and 
 merely thrown a great coat over him, went down into the gar- 
 den, and with an air of mystery, drew up in two different places 
 to see the royal family and suite pass by. 
 
 Her majesty was highly offended at this piece of boldness, 
 and the next day ordered the porter to be discharged. There 
 was a general feeling of disgust at the cardinal's treachery to 
 the unfortunate man, and of commiseration towards the latter 
 for the loss of his place. Affected at the misfortune of the 
 father of a family, I obtained his forgiveness; and since that 
 time I have often regretted the feeling of the moment which 
 induced me to interfere. The notoriety of the discharge of the 
 porter of Trianon, and the odium that circumstance would 
 have fixed upon the cardinal, would have made the Queen's 
 dislike to him still more publicly known ; and would probably 
 have prevented the scandalous and too famous intrigue of the 
 necklace. But for the artful manner in which the cardinal 
 introduced himself into the gardens of Trianon but for the air 
 of mystery which he affected whenever the Queen met him 
 there, he would not have been able to say that he had been 
 deceived by any emissary between the Queen and himself. 
 
 The Queen, who was much prejudiced against the King of 
 Sweden, received him very coldly.* All that was said of the 
 private character of that sovereign, his connection with the 
 Count de Vergennes, from the time of the revolution of Sweden, 
 in 1772, the character of his favourite Armsfeld, and the pre- 
 judices of the monarch himself against the Swedes, who were 
 well received at the court of Versailles, formed the grounds of 
 this dislike. He came one day uninvited and unexpected, and 
 requested to dine with the Queen. The Queen received him in 
 
 * Gustavus the Third, King of Sweden, travelled in France under 
 the title of Count d'Haga. Upon his accession to the throne, he ma- 
 naged the revolution, which prostrated the authority of the senate, with 
 equal skill, coolness, and courage. He was assassinated in 1792, at a 
 masked ball, by Ankerstroera. Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 213 
 
 the little closet, and sent for me immediately. She desired me 
 to send for her clerk of the kitchen, that she might be in- 
 formed whether there was a proper dinner to set before Count 
 d'Haga, and to add to it if necessary. The King of Sweden 
 assured her that there would be enough for him ; and I could 
 not help smiling at the idea of augmenting the dinner provided 
 for the King and Queen, not even half of which would have 
 made its appearance had they dined in private. The Queen 
 looked significantly and seriously at me, and I withdrew. In 
 the evening she asked me why I had looked so astonished, when 
 she ordered me to add to her dinner; saying that I ought 
 instantly to have seen, that she was giving the King of Sweden 
 a lesson for his presumption. I owned to her that the scene 
 had appeared to me so much in the city style, that I had invo- 
 luntarily thought of the cutlets on the gridiron, and the omelette, 
 which, in families in middling circumstances, serve to piece out 
 short commons. She was highly diverted with my answer, and 
 repeated it to the King, who also laughed heartily at it. 
 
 The peace with England gave great satisfaction to all classes 
 of society, interested in the national honour. The departure of 
 the English commissary from Dunkirk, who had been fixed at 
 that place ever since the shameful peace of 1763, as inspector 
 of our navy, occasioned an ecstasy of joy. The government 
 prudently communicated to the Englishman the order for his 
 departure, before the treaty was made public. But for that pre- 
 caution the populace would have probably committed some excess 
 or other, in order to make the agent of English power feel the 
 effects of the resentment which was constantly increasing during 
 his stay at that port. Those engaged in trade, were the only 
 persons dissatisfied with the treaty of 1783. That article which 
 provided for the free admission of English goods, annihilated at 
 one blow the trade of Rouen, and the other manufacturing towns 
 throughout the kingdom. French industry has since removed 
 that superiority which secured to England the exclusive trade 
 of the whole world. The English poured into Paris. A con- 
 siderable number of them were presented at court. The Queen
 
 214 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 paid them a marked attention ; doubtless she wished them to 
 distinguish between the esteem she had for their noble nation, 
 and the political views of the government, in the support it had 
 afforded to the Americans. Discontent was, however, strongly 
 manifested at court, in consequence of the marks of favour 
 bestowed by the Queen upon the English noblemen; these 
 attentions were called infatuations. This was illiberal ; and the 
 Queen justly complained of such absurd jealousy. 
 
 The journey to Fontainebleau, and the winter at Paris and at 
 court, were extremely brilliant. The spring brought back with 
 it those amusements which the Queen began to prefer to the 
 splendour of fetes. The most perfect harmony subsisted be- 
 tween the King and Queen ; I never saw but one difference be- 
 tween the august couple. It was soon dispelled; the cause of it 
 is still perfectly unknown to me. 
 
 My father-in-law, whose penetration and experience I re- 
 spected greatly, recommended me, when he saw me placed in the 
 service of a young Queen, to shun all kinds of confidence. " It 
 procures," said he, " but a very fleeting, and at the same time 
 dangerous sort of favour : serve with zeal, to the best of your 
 judgment, and never do more than obey. Instead of setting 
 your wits to work, to discover why an order, or a commission 
 which may appear of consequence, are given to you, use them 
 to prevent the possibility of your knowing anything of the 
 matter." I had occasion to avail myself of this wise and useful 
 lesson. One morning at Trianon, I went into the Queen's 
 chamber when she was in bed ; there were letters lying upon 
 the bed, and she was weeping bitterly. Her tears were mingled 
 with sobs, which she occasionally interrupted by exclamations 
 of, "Ah! that I were dead! wretches! monsters! What 
 have I done to them ?" I offered her orange flower water and 
 ether " Leave me," said she, " if you love me : it would be 
 better to kill me at once." At this moment she threw her arm 
 over my shoulder and began weeping afresh. I saw that some 
 weighty, but concealed trouble oppressed her heart, that she 
 wanted a confidante, and that that confidante ought to be no
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 215 
 
 other than her friend. I told her so, and suggested sending for 
 the Duchess de Polignac : this she strongly opposed. 1 renewed 
 my arguments and solicitations, to procure her the consolation 
 of a disclosure of which she stood in need, and her opposition 
 grew weaker. I disengaged myself from her arms, and ran to 
 the antechamber, where I knew that a horseman always waited, 
 ready to mount, and start at a moment's warning for Versailles. 
 I ordered him to go full speed, and tell the Duchess de Polignac, 
 that the Queen was very uneasy, and desired to see her instantly. 
 The duchess always had a carriage ready. In less than ten 
 minutes she was at the Queen's door. I was the only person 
 there, having been forbidden to send for the other women ; Ma- 
 dame dc Polignac came in ; the Queen held out her arms to her, 
 the duchess rushed towards her. I heard her sobs renewed, and 
 withdrew. 
 
 A quarter of an hour afterwards the Queen, who was become 
 calmer, rang to be dressed. I sent her woman in ; she put on 
 her gown and retired to her boudoir with the duchess. Very 
 soon afterwards the Count d'Artois arrived from Compeigne, 
 where he had been with the King. He hastily crossed the ante- 
 chamber and the chamber, and eagerly inquired where the Queen 
 was. He remained half an hour with her and the duchess; and 
 on coming out told me the Queen asked for me. I found her 
 seated on her couch, by the side of her friend ; her features had 
 resumed their usual cheerful and gracious appearance. She held 
 out her hand to me, and said to the duchess, " I know I have 
 made her so uncomfortable this morning, that I must set her 
 poor heart at ease." She then added, " You must have seen, on 
 some fine summer's day, a black cloud suddenly appear, and 
 threaten to pour down upon the country, and lay it in waste. 
 The lightest wind drives it away, and the blue sky and serene 
 weather are restored. This is just the image of what has hap- 
 pened to me this morning." She afterwards told me that the 
 King would return from Compeigne after hunting there, and sup 
 with her ; that I must send for her purveyor, to select with him, 
 from his bills of fare, all such dishes as the King liked best j
 
 216 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 that she would have no others served up in the evening at her 
 table; and that this was a mark of attention that she wished the 
 King to observe. The Duchess de Polignac also took me by the 
 hand, and told me how happy she was that she had been with 
 the Queen at a moment when she stood in need of a friend. I 
 never knew what could have created in the Queen so lively and 
 so transient an alarm ; but I guessed from the particular care 
 she took respecting the King, that attempts had been made to 
 irritate him against her; that the malice of her enemies had 
 been promptly discovered and counteracted by the King's pene- 
 tration and attachment; and that the Count d'Artois had 
 hastened to bring her intelligence of it. 
 
 It was, I think, in the summer of 1787, during one of the 
 Trianon excursions, that the Queen of Naples sent the Chevalier 
 de Bressac to her majesty, on a secret mission relative to a pro- 
 jected marriage between the hereditary prince her son, and 
 madame the King's daughter; in the absence of the lady of 
 honour, he addressed himself to me. Notwithstanding he 
 said a great deal to me about the close confidence with which 
 the Queen of Naples honoured him, and about his letters of 
 credit, I thought he had quite the air of an adventurer.* He 
 had, indeed, private letters for the Queen, and his mission was 
 not feigned ; he talked to me very inconsiderately even before 
 his admission, and entreated me to do all that lay in my power 
 to dispose the Queen's mind in favour of his sovereign's wishes : 
 I declined it ; assuring him that it did not belong to me to 
 meddle with state affairs. He endeavoured, but in vain, to prove 
 to me that the union contemplated by the Queen of Naples ought 
 not to be looked upon in that light. 
 
 I procured M. de Bressac the audience he desired, but with- 
 out suffering myself even to seem acquainted with the object of 
 his mission. The Queen told me what it was : she thought him 
 a person ill chosen for the occasion ; and yet she thought that 
 the Queen, her sister, had done very well in not making use of 
 
 * I know that he afterwards spent several years shut up in the castle 
 de 1'CEuf. Note by Madame Campan.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 217 
 
 a man fit to be avowed ; it being impossible that what she soli- 
 cited should take place. I had an opportunity on this occasion, 
 as indeed on many others, of judging to what extent the Queen 
 valued and loved France and the dignity of our court. She then 
 told me that Madame, in marrying her cousin, the Duke d'An- 
 gouleine, would not lose her rank as daughter of the Queen ; and 
 that her situation would be far more preferable to that of Queen 
 of any other country ; that there was nothing in Europe to be 
 compared to the court of France ; and that it would be necessary, 
 in order to avoid exposing a French princess to feelings of deep 
 regret, in case she should be married to a foreign prince, to take 
 her from the palace of Versailles at seven years of age, and send 
 her immediately to the court in which she was to dwell ; and 
 that at twelve it would be too late ; for that recollections and 
 comparisons would ruin the happiness of all the rest of her life. 
 The Queen looked upon the fate of her sisters as far beneath her 
 own; and frequently mentioned the mortifications inflicted by 
 the court of Spain upon her sister, the Queen of Naples;* and 
 of the necessity she was under of imploring the mediation of 
 the King of France. 
 
 * The following extract may perhaps assist in pointing out the motive 
 of these mortifications. It shows, at least, very plausibly, how the 
 Empress Maria Theresa, hoped to promote her extensive schemes, by 
 the alliance of the archduchess Caroline with the King of Naples, and 
 what obstacles the Spanish branch of the Bourbons presented to designs, 
 the depth of which did not pass unperceived by them. 
 
 The observations about to be given are from the Historical Memoirs of 
 the Reign of Louis XVI., by the Abbe" Soulavie ; but the testimony of 
 Count d'Orloff, in the sensible, clear and instructive work, which he 
 has published on the kingdom of Naples, gives them great weight. We 
 quote a passage of some length from M. d'Orloff's work (see letter U), 
 and we recommend the perusal of it, because it describes truly, and in 
 an interesting manner, the empire which Queen Caroline had acquired 
 over her husband, the character of the minister Acton, the just grounds 
 of the resentment felt by the court of Madrid, and the part played by 
 France among all these differences. This is what the Abbe" Soulavie 
 says on this subject : 
 
 " Under the nourishing reigns of the house of Bourbon, France had
 
 218 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 She showed me several letters that she had received from the 
 Queen of Naples, relative to her differences with the court of 
 Madrid, respecting the minister Acton. She thought him useful 
 to her people, inasmuch as he was a man of considerable infor- 
 mation, and great activity. In these letters she minutely 
 acquainted her majesty with the nature of the affronts she had 
 received, and represented Mr. Acton to her, as a man whom 
 malevolence itself could not suppose capable of interesting her 
 otherwise than by his services. She had had to suffer the imperti- 
 nence of a Spaniard named Las Casas, who had been sent to 
 
 fixed one of its branches in Spain, which again had thrown out scions 
 into Italy. Maria Theresa was jealous of this. Inheriting all the 
 ambition of the house of Austria, and all its views upon Italy, she had 
 promised herself, during a profound peace, to reconquer that beautiful 
 country by stratagem, by giving to the court of Naples an archduchess 
 brought up at Vienna, and never likely to forget, that she was the 
 guardian of the interests of her family at Naples. Queen Caroline ably 
 seconded the views of her mother : seeing in the city of Naples, noth- 
 ing more than a property formerly Austrian, and particularly insecure 
 in the hands of Ferdinand, and being remarkably apt at creating min- 
 isters submissive to her will, at retaining and defending them, and de- 
 taching them from the court of Madrid, where the stem of the Neapo- 
 litan branch of the Bourbons reigned, she succeeded in giving her hus- 
 band a disinclination to the family compact, in which the principal 
 strength of the decendants of Louis XIV. lay, so devoted was she to 
 her brother Joseph, the only divinity she adored. 
 
 " This conduct of Caroline, Queen of Naples, and the precautions 
 taken by the house of Austria, in all its treaties of peace with France, 
 to preserve some hold over Italy, develope the views of the house of 
 Austria, respecting that ancient inheritance of which it had been de- 
 prived by the courage and policy of the Bourbons. But for the firmnesa 
 of Don Carlos, King of Naples, upon his accession to the throne of Spain, 
 Austria would have repossessed that ancient domain, by virtue of the 
 reversionary clauses which Maria Theresa had artfully introduced into 
 the treaty of Aix la Chapelle, and which she had again procured to bt 
 inserted in the treaty of 1758: an evident proof, that Austria has not 
 lost sight of the project of a new settlement in the bosom of Italy." 
 Recent events add greatly to the weight of ihese conjectures, respect 
 ing the ambitious policy of the house of Aufitria. Note by the Editor.
 
 MAHIE ANTOINETTE. 219 
 
 her by the King, her father-in-law, to persuade her to dismiss 
 Mr. Acton from the business of the state, and from her inti- 
 macy. She complained bitterly to the Queen her sister, of the 
 disgusting proceedings of this charge d'affaires, whom she told, 
 in order to convince him of the nature of the feelings which 
 attached her to Mr. Acton, that she would have portraits and 
 busts of him executed by the most eminent artist of Italy, and 
 that she would then send them to the King of Spain, to prove 
 that nothing but the desire to retain a man of superior capacity, 
 had induced her to bestow on him the favour he enjoyed. This 
 Las Casas dared to answer her that it would be an useless 
 trouble ; that the ugliness of a man did not always render him 
 displeasing; and the King of Spain had too much experience 
 not to know that there was no accounting for the caprices of a 
 woman. 
 
 This audacious reply filled the Queen of Naples with indigna- 
 tion, and her emotion caused her to miscarry on the same day. 
 Through the intermediation of Louis XVI., the Queen of 
 Naples obtained complete satisfaction in this affair, and Mr. 
 Acton was continued in his post of prime minister.* 
 
 Among the characteristics which denoted the great goodness 
 of the Queen, her respect for personal liberty should have a 
 place. I have seen her put up with the most troublesome 
 importunities from people whose minds were deranged, rather 
 than have them taken up. Her patient benignity was put to a 
 very disagreeable trial by an old member of the Bordeaux par- 
 liament, named Castelnaux : this man declared himself a lover 
 of the Queen, and was generally known by that appellation. 
 For ten successive years did he follow the court in all its excur- 
 sions. Pale and wan, as people who are out of their senses 
 usually are, his sinister appearance occasioned the most uncom- 
 fortable sensations. During the two hours that the Queen's 
 public card-parties lasted, he would remain fixed opposite her 
 majesty. lie placed himself in the same manner before her 
 
 eyes at chapel, and never failed to be at the King's dinner, or 
 < 
 
 * See Historical Illustrations, letter (U), particulars respecting this 
 minister, and his conduct towards France. Note by the Editor. 
 VOL. i. 20
 
 220 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the grand convert. At the theatre, he invariably seated himself 
 as near the Queen's box as possible. He always set off for 
 Fontainebleau, or St. Cloud, the day before the court, and when 
 her majesty arrived at her various residences, the first person 
 she met on getting out of her carriage was this melancholy mad- 
 man. He never spoke to any one. While the Queen was at 
 Petit Trianon, the passion of this unhappy man became still 
 more annoying. He would hastily swallow his morsel at some 
 eating house, and spent all the rest of the day, even when it 
 rained, in going round and round the garden, always walking at 
 the edge of the moat. The Queen frequently met him when 
 she was walking either alone or with her children ; and yet she 
 would not suffer any violence to be used to relieve her from this 
 intolerable annoyance. Having one day given M. de Seze per- 
 mission to enter Trianon, she sent to desire he would come to 
 me, and directed me to inform that celebrated advocate of M. de 
 Casteluaux's derangement, and then to send for him, that M. de 
 Seze might have some conversation witli him. He talked to 
 him nearly an hour, and made considerable impression upon his 
 mind : and at last M. de Castelnaux requested me to inform the 
 Queen, that positively, since his presence was disagreeable to her, 
 he would retire to his province. The Queen was very much 
 rejoiced, and desired me to express her full satisfaction to M. 
 de Seze. Half an hour after M. de Seze was gone, the unhappy 
 madman was announced to me. He came to tell me that he 
 withdrew his promise, that he had not sufficient command of 
 himself to give up seeing the Queen as often as possible. This 
 new determination was a disagreeable message to take to her 
 majesty; but how was I affected at hearing her say : "Well, let 
 him annoy me ! but let him not be deprived of the blessing of 
 freedom.* 
 
 * On the fatal arrest of the King and Queen at Varennes, this unfor- 
 tunate Castelnaux attempted to starve himself to death. The people 
 in whose house he lived, becoming uneasy at his absence, had the door 
 of his room forced open, -where he was found, stretched senseless on 
 the floor. I do not know what became of him after the 10th of August. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 221 
 
 The direct influence of the Queen on affairs, during the earlier 
 years of the reign, was only shown in her obliging exertions to 
 obtain from the King a revision of the decrees in two celebrated 
 causes.* 
 
 If the King did not inspire the Queen with a lively feeling 
 of love, it is at least quite certain that she yielded him a mixed 
 tribute of enthusiasm and affection, for the goodness of his 
 disposition and the equity of which he gave so many accumu- 
 lated proofs throughout his reign. One evening she returned 
 very late : she came out of the King's closet, and said to M. de 
 Mizery and myself, drying her eyes, which were filled with 
 tears, " You see me weeping, but do not be uneasy at it : these 
 are the sweetest tears that a wife can shed ; they are caused by 
 the impression which the justice and goodness of the King have 
 made upon me ; he has just complied with my request for a 
 revision of the proceedings against Messieurs de Bellegarde and 
 Moutier, victims of the Duke d'Aiguillon's hatred to the Duke de 
 Choiseul. He has been equally just to the Duke de Guines, in 
 his affair with Le Tort. It is a happy thing for a Queen to be 
 able to admire and esteem him who has admitted her to a par- 
 cipation of his throne ; and as to you, I congratulate you upon 
 your having to live under the sceptre of so virtuous a sovereign." 
 Our tears of affection mingled with those of the Queen; she 
 condescended to suffer us to kiss her charming hands. This 
 affecting scene is not yet effaced from my recollection and was 
 it under the sway of sovereigns so merciful and so feeling that 
 
 * The Queen did not venture to meddle with those two causes further 
 than to solicit a revision of them ; for it was contrary to her principles 
 to interfere in matters of justice, and never did she avail herself of her 
 influence, to bias the tribunals. The Duchess de Praslin, through a 
 criminal caprice, carried her enmity to her husband so far, as to disin- 
 herit her children in favour of the family of M. de Gue'me'ne'e. The 
 Duchess de Choiseul, who was warmly interested in this affair, one day- 
 entreated the Queen in my presence, at least to condescend to ask the 
 first president when the cause would be called on ; the Queen replied, 
 that she could not even do that, for it would manifest an interest which 
 it was her duty not to show.' Note by Madame Campan.
 
 222 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 we endured horrors for which the most cruel tyranny would 
 have been no excuse ? And were these the beings, so august, 
 so formed by Divine Providence for the happiness of the people, 
 whom we had the anguish of seeing sacrificed to a rage equally 
 senseless and barbarous ? 
 
 The Queen laid before the King all the memorials of the 
 Duke de Guines, who, during his embassy to England, was 
 involved in difficulties by a secretary, who speculated in the 
 public funds in London on his own account, but in such a man- 
 ner, as to throw a suspicion of it on the ambassador. Messieurs 
 de Vergennes and Turgot, bearing but little good will to the 
 Duke de Guines, who was the friend of the Duke de Choiseul, 
 were not disposed to render the ambassador any service. The 
 Queen succeeded in fixing the King's particular attention on 
 this affair, and the innocence of the Duke de Guines triumphed 
 through the equity of Louis XVI. 
 
 An incessant underhand war was carried on between the 
 friends and partisans of M. de Choiseul, who were called the 
 Austrians, and those who sided with Messieurs d'Aiguillon, 
 de Maurepas, and de Vergennes, who, for the same reason, kept 
 up the intrigues carried on at court, and in Paris, against the 
 Queen. Marie Antoinette on her part supported those who had 
 suffered in this political quarrel, and it was this feeling which 
 led her to ask for a revision of the proceedings against Mes- 
 sieurs de Bellegarde and de Moutier. The first, a colonel and 
 inspector of artillery, and the second a proprietor of a foundry 
 at Saint Etienne, were, under the ministry of the Duke 
 d'Aiguillon, condemned to imprisonment for twenty years and 
 a day, for having withdrawn from the arsenals of France, by 
 order of the Duke de Choiseul, a vast number of muskets, 
 which were thrown out as being of no value except as old iron, 
 while in point of fact, the greater part of those muskets were 
 immediately embarked, and sold to the Americans. It appears 
 that the Duke de Choiseul imparted to the Queen, as grounds 
 of defence for the accused, the political views which led him to 
 authorize that reduction and sale in the manner in which it had
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 223 
 
 been executed. What rendered the case of Messieurs de Belle- 
 garde and de Moutier more unfavourable was, that the artillery 
 officer who made the reduction in the capacity of inspector, was, 
 through a clandestine marriage, brother-in-law of the owner of 
 the foundry, who became the purchaser of the rejected arms. 
 The innocence of the two prisoners was nevertheless made 
 apparent; and they came to Versailles with their wives and 
 children, to throw themselves at the feet of their benefactress. 
 This affecting scene took place in the grand gallery, at the 
 entrance to the Queen's apartment. She wished to restrain 
 the women from kneeling, saying, that they had only had Justice 
 done them ; and that she ought at that very moment to be con- 
 gratulated upon the most substantial happiness attendant iipon 
 her station, that of laying just appeals before the King.'* 
 
 Whenever she had to express her thoughts in public, the 
 Queen always used the most appropriate, elegant, and striking 
 language, notwithstanding the difficulty a foreigner might be 
 expected to experience. She answered all addresses herself, and 
 persevered in that custom, which she first learned at the court 
 of Maria Theresa. The princesses of the house of Bourbon had 
 long ceased to take the trouble of pronouncing their answers in 
 such cases. Madame Adelaide blamed the Queen for not doing 
 as they did, assuring her, that it was quite sufficient to mutter 
 a few words, that might sound like an answer, while the ad- 
 dressers, solely occupied with what they themselves had just 
 been saying, would always take it for granted, that a proper 
 answer had been returned. The Queen saw that idleness alone 
 had pointed out such a course of proceeding, and that as the 
 practice even of muttering a few words, showed the necessity of 
 answering in some way, it must be more proper to reply plainly, 
 
 * There is an engraving of the time, which represents this scene of 
 gratitude and kindness tolerably well. This piece has the merit of 
 representing the places, costumes, and the personal likeness of the 
 principal personages with accuracy. Among the latter, we recognize 
 M. the Count de Provence, (his Majesty Louia XVIII.), Madame the 
 Countess de Provence, M. the Count and Madame the Countess d'Artois, 
 and the Emperor Joseph II. Note by the Editor. 
 20*
 
 224 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 distinctly, and in the best style possible. Sometimes, indeed, 
 when apprised of the subject of the address, she would write 
 down her answer in the morning, not to learn it by heart, but 
 in order to settle the ideas or sentiments she wished to intro- 
 duce into it. 
 
 The influence of the Countess do Polignac increased daily ; 
 and her friends availed themselves of it, to effect changes in the 
 ministry. The dismissal of M. de Montbarrey, a man without 
 talents or character, was generally approved of. It was justly 
 attributed to the Queen. He had been placed in administration 
 by M. de Maurepas, and backed by his aged wife : both of course 
 became more inveterate than ever against the Queen and the Po- 
 lignac circle. 
 
 The appointment of M. de Segur to the place of minister at 
 war, and of M. de Castries to that of minister of marine, were 
 wholly the work of that circle. The Queen always dreaded 
 making ministers; her favourite often wept, when the men of 
 her circle compelled her to interfere. Men blame women for 
 meddling in business, and yet in courts it is continually the men 
 themselves, who make use of the influence of the women, in 
 matters with which the latter ought to have nothing to do. 
 
 On the day when M. de Segur was presented to the Queen on 
 his new appointment, she said to me : " You have just seen a 
 minister of my making. I am very glad as far as regards the 
 King's service, that he is appointed, for I think the selection a 
 very good one ; but I almost regret the part I have taken in this 
 appointment. I take a responsibility upon myself. I was for- 
 tunate in being free from any ; and, in order to relieve myself 
 from this as much as possible, I have just promised M. de Se- 
 gur, and that upon my word of honour, not to back any petition, 
 nor to clog any of his operations, by solicitations on behalf of 
 my proteges." 
 
 During the first administration of M. Necker, whose ambition 
 had not then drawn him into schemes repugnant to his better 
 judgment, and whose views appeared to the Queen to be very 
 judicious, she 'indulged in hopes of the restoration of the
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 225 
 
 finances. Knowing that M. do Maurcpas wished to drive M. 
 Necker to give in his resignation, she urged him to have pa- 
 tience, until the death of an old man, whom the King kept about 
 him, from a fondness for his first choice, and out of respect for 
 his advanced age. She even went so far as to tell him that M. 
 de Maurepas was always ill, and that his end could not be very 
 distant. M. Necker would not wait for that event. The Queen's 
 prediction was fulfilled. M. de Maurepas ended his days imme- 
 diately after a journey to Fontainebleau, in 1781.* 
 
 M. Necker had retired. He had been exasperated by a piece 
 of treachery in the old minister, for which he could not forgive 
 him. I knew something of this intrigue, at the time it took 
 place ; it has since been fully explained to me, by Madame la 
 Marechale de Beauvau. M. Necker saw that his credit at court 
 was drooping, and fearing lest that circumstance should injure 
 his financial operations, he wrote to the King requesting his 
 majesty would grant him some favour, which might show the 
 public that he had not lost the confidence of his sovereign. He 
 concluded his letter by pointing out five different requests such 
 an office,- or such a mark of distinction, or such a badge of 
 honour, and so on, and handed it to M. de Maurepas. The ors 
 were changed into andsj and the King was displeased at M. 
 Necker's ambition, and the assurance with which he displayed it. 
 
 Madame the Marechale de Beauvau assures me, that Marshal 
 de Castries saw the minute of M. Necker's letter perfectly in 
 accordance with what he had told him, and that he likewise saw 
 the altered copy.* 
 
 The interest which the Queen took in M. Necker, decreased 
 
 * "Louis XVI.," says the Biographie Universelle, " deeply regretted 
 Maurepas. During his last illness, he went himself to inform him of 
 the birth of the dauphin to announce it to his friend, and rejoice with him: 
 these were his very expressions. The day after his funeral, he said 
 with an air of great affliction : " Ah ! I shall no longer hear my friend 
 over head every morning." A simple and affecting eulogy, though little 
 merited by him who was the object of it. Note by the Editor. 
 
 j- I have this anecdote under that lady's hand. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan.
 
 226 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 during his retirement, and at last changed into strong prejudice 
 against him. He wrote too much about the measures he would 
 have pursued, and the benefits that would have resulted to the 
 state from them. The ministers who succeeded him thought 
 their operations embarrassed by the care that M. Necker and 
 his partisans incessantly took to occupy the public with his 
 plans; his friends were too ardent. The Queen discerned a 
 party spirit in these combinations, and sided wholly with his 
 enemies. 
 
 After those inefficient comptrollers-general, Messieurs Joly do 
 Fleury, and d'Ormesson, it became necessary to resort to a man 
 of more acknowledged talent, and the Queen's friends at that 
 time combining with the Count d'Artois, and, from I know not 
 what motive, with M. de Vergennes, got M. de Calonne ap- 
 pointed. The Queen was highly displeased at this, and her 
 close intimacy with the Duchess de Polignac thenceforth began 
 gradually to dissolve. It was at this period she said, that when 
 sovereigns chose favourites, they raised powers about them, 
 which, being flattered, at first for their master's sake, were after- 
 wards flattered for their own ; formed a party in the state, acted 
 alone, and caused the odium of their actions to fall upon the 
 sovereigns to whom they owed their influence. 
 
 The inconveniences attendant on the private life of a sove- 
 reign, then struck the Queen in all their bearings. She talked 
 to me about it in confidence, and often told me that I was the 
 only person aware of the vexations that her social habits brought 
 upon her ; but that she must bear the anxieties of which she 
 herself was the sole author ; that the appearance of fickleness in 
 a friendship such as that which she had contracted with the 
 duchess, or a total rupture, would be attended with still greater 
 evils, and could only produce fresh calamities. It was not that 
 she had to reproach Madame de Polignac with a single fault, 
 which could make her regret the choice she had made of her for 
 a friend, but she had not foreseen the inconvenience of having 
 to support the friends of our friends, which society obliges one 
 to do.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 227 
 
 Her majesty continuing to converse with me upon the diffi- 
 culties she had met with in private life, told me that ambitious 
 men, without merit, sometimes found means to gain their ends 
 by dint of importunity, and that she had to blame herself for 
 having procured M. d'Adhemar to be appointed to the London 
 embassy, merely because he teased her into it at the duchess's 
 house. She added, however, to this avowal, that it was at a 
 time of perfect peace with the English ; that the minister knew 
 the inefficiency of M. d'Adhemar as well as she did, and that he 
 could do neither harm nor good. 
 
 Often, in conversations of unreserved frankness, the Queen 
 owned that she had purchased rather dearly a piece of experi- 
 ence which would make her carefully watch over the conduct of 
 her daughters-in-law ; and that she would be particularly scru- 
 pulous about the qualifications of the ladies who might be their 
 attendants : that no consideration of rank or favour should bias 
 her in so important a choice. She attributed several of her 
 youthful actions to a lady of great levity, whom she found in 
 her palace on her arrival in France. She also determined to 
 foAid the princesses whom she could control, the practice of 
 singing with professors, and said sincerely, and with as much 
 severity as her slanderers could have done, " I ought to have 
 heard Garat sing, and not to have sung duets with him." Thus 
 impartially did she speak of her youth. What was not to bo 
 expected from her maturer age !
 
 228 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The Queen is dissatisfied with the Appointment of M. de Calonne Acts 
 of Benevolence Purchase of Saint Cloud Regulations of Internal 
 Police: in the Queen's Name State of France Beaumarchais 
 Marriage of Figaro Character of M. de Vaudreuil. 
 
 THE Queen did not sufficiently conceal the dissatisfaction she 
 felt at having been unable to prevent the appointment of M. de 
 Calonne ; she even one day went so far as to say at the duchess's, 
 in the midst of the partisans and protectors of that minister, 
 that the finances of France passed alternately from the hands of 
 an honest man without talent, into those of a skilful knave. 
 M. de Calonne was, therefore, far from acting in concert with 
 the Queen all the time that he continued in place ; and, while 
 dull verses were circulated about Paris, describing the Queen and 
 her favourite dipping at pleasure into the coffers of the comp- 
 troller-general, the Queen was avoiding all communication with 
 him. 
 
 During the long and severe winter of 1783 I, the King gave 
 three millions of livres for the relief of the indigent. M. de 
 Calonne, who felt the necessity of making advances to the Queen, 
 caught at this opportunity of showing her his respect and devo- 
 tion, but in vain. He came and offered to place in her hands 
 one million of the three, to be distributed in her name and 
 under her direction. His proposal was rejected; the Queen 
 answered, that the charity ought to be wholly distributed in the 
 King's name, and that she would this year debar herself of even 
 the slightest enjoyments, in order to contribute to the relief of 
 the unfortunate all that her savings would enable her to give. 
 
 Th'e moment M. de Calonne left the closet, the Queen sent
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 229 
 
 for me : " Congratulate me, my dear/' said she ; " I have just 
 escaped a snare, or at least a matter which eventually might 
 have caused me much regret." She related the conversation 
 which had taken place, word for word, to me, adding, " that 
 man will complete the ruin of the national finances. It is said 
 that I placed him in his situation. The people are made to 
 believe that I am extravagant; yet I have refused to suffer a 
 sum of money from the royal treasury, although destined for the 
 most laudable purpose, to pass through my hands." 
 
 The Queen, making monthly retrenchments from the expendi- 
 ture of her privy purse, and not having spent the gifts customary 
 at the period of her confinement, was in possession of from five 
 to six hundred thousand francs, her own savings. She made 
 use of from two to three hundred thousand francs of this, which 
 her principal women sent to M. Lenoir, to the curates of Paris 
 and Versailles, and to the so3urs hospitalieres, and so distributed 
 them among families in need. 
 
 Desirous to implant in the breast of her daughter, not only a 
 desire to succour the unfortunate, but those qualities necessary 
 for the due discharge of that sacred duty, the Queen incessantly 
 talked to her, though she was yet very young, about the suffer- 
 ings of the poor during a season so inclement. The princess 
 already had a sum of from eight to ten thousand francs for cha- 
 ritable purposes, and the Queen made her distribute a part of it 
 herself. 
 
 Wishing to give her children another lesson of beneficence, 
 ehe desired me, on the new year's eve, to get from Paris, as in 
 other years, all the fashionable playthings, and have them spread 
 out in her closet. Then taking her children by the hand, she 
 showed them all the dolls and toys which were ranged there, 
 and told them, that she had intended to give them some hand- 
 some new year's gifts, but that the cold made the poor so 
 wretched, that all her money was spent in blankets and clothes, 
 to protect them from the rigour of the season, and in' supplying 
 them with bread ; so that this year they would only have the 
 pleasure of looking at the new playthings. When she returned
 
 230 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 with her children into her sitting-room, she said there was still 
 an unavoidable expense to be incurred; that assuredly many 
 mothers would at that season think as she did ; that the toyman 
 must lose by it ; and therefore, she gave him fifty louis to repay 
 him for the cost of his journey, and console him for having sold 
 nothing. 
 
 The purchase of Saint Cloud, a matter very simple in itself, 
 had, on account of the prevailing spirit, very unfavourable con- 
 sequences to the Queen. 
 
 The palace of Versailles, pulled to pieces in the interior by a 
 variety of new arrangements, and mutilated in point of uni- 
 formity, partly by the removal of the ambassador's staircase, and 
 partly by that of the peristyle of columns placed at the bottom 
 of the marble court, was equally in want of substantial and 
 ornamental repair. The King, therefore, desired M. Micque to 
 lay before him several plans for the repairs of the palace. He 
 consulted me on certain arrangements analogous to some of those 
 adopted in the Queen's establishment, and, in my presence, asked 
 M. Micque, how much money would be wanted for the execu- 
 tion of the whole work, and how many years he would be in 
 completing it. I forget how many millions of livres were men- 
 tioned ; but I remember M. Micque replied, that six years would 
 be sufficient time for performing the whole undertaking, if the 
 treasury made the necessary advances from time to time with- 
 out any delay. " And how many years shall you require," said 
 the King, " if the advances are not punctually made ?" " Ten, 
 sire," replied the architect. " We must then reckon upon ten 
 years," said his majesty, " and put off this greaf undertaking 
 until the year 1790 ; it will occupy the rest of the century." The 
 King afterwards talked of the depreciation of property which 
 took place at Versailles, whilst the regent kept the court of 
 Louis XV., at the Tuileries, and said that he must consider 
 of means to prevent that inconvenience ; it was the desire to do 
 this that promoted the purchase of Saint Cloud. The Queen 
 first conceived the idea of it, one day when she was riding out 
 with the Duchess de Polignac, and the.Countess Diana ; she men-
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 231 
 
 tioned it to the King, who was much pleased with the thought; 
 the purchase confirming him in the intention of quitting Ver- 
 sailles, which he had entertained for ten years. 
 
 The King determined to continue the ministers, public officers, 
 pages, and a considerable part of his stabling, at Versailles. 
 Messieurs de Breteuil and de Calonne were instructed to treat 
 with the Duke d' Orleans, for the purchase of Saint Cloud ; at 
 first they hoped to be able to conclude the business by a mere 
 exchange. The value of Choisy, La Muette, and one forest, was 
 equivalent to the sum demanded by the house of Orleans ; and 
 in the exchange which the Queen expected, she saw there was 
 a saving to be made, instead of an increase of expense. By 
 this arrangement, the government of Choisy, in the hands of the 
 Duke de Coigny, and that of La Muette, in the hands of the 
 Marshal de Soubise, would be suppressed. At the same time, 
 the two conciergeries, and all the servants employed in these 
 two royal houses, would be reduced ; but while the treaty was 
 going forward, Messieurs de Breteuil and de Calonne gave up 
 the point of exchange, and some millions in specie were substi- 
 tuted for Choisy and La Muette. 
 
 The Queen advised the King to give her Saint Cloud, as a 
 means of avoiding the establishment of a governor, her plan 
 being to have merely a housekeeper there ; by which means the 
 governor's expenses would be saved. The King agreed, and 
 Saint Cloud was purchased for the Queen. She provided the 
 same liveries for the porters at the gates, and servants of the 
 castle, as for those at Trianon. The housekeeper at the latter 
 place had put up some regulations of internal police, with these 
 words : " By order of the Queen." The same thing was done 
 at Saint Cloud. The Queen's livery at the door of a palace, 
 where it was expected none but that of the King would be seen, 
 and the words, " By order of the Queen," at the head of the 
 printed papers pasted near the iron gates, caused a great sensa- 
 tion and produced a very unfortunate effect, not only among the 
 common people, but also among persons of a superior class. 
 They saw in it an attack upon the customs of monarchy, and 
 
 VOL. i. 21
 
 232 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 customs are nearly equal to laws. The Queen heard of this, 
 but she thought that her dignity would be compromised if she 
 made any change in the form of these regulations, though they 
 might have been altogether superseded without any inconvenience. 
 " My name is not misplaced," said she, " in gardens belonging 
 to myself; surely I may give orders there, without infringing 
 on the rights of the state." This was the only answer she made 
 to the representations which a few faithful servants ventured to 
 make to her on the subject. The discontent of the Parisians 
 on this occasion, probably induced M. de Espremenil, upon the 
 first troubles about the parliament, to say that it was impolitic 
 and immoral in a Queen of France to possess palaces of her 
 own :* thus a change, effected through an economical motive, 
 assumed a very different character in the eyes of the public. 
 
 The Queen was very much dissatisfied with the manner in 
 which M. de Calonne had managed this matter. The Abbe d$ 
 Vermond, the most active and persevering of that minister's 
 enemies, saw with delight, that the expedients of those, from 
 whom alone new resources might be expected, were gradually 
 exhausting, because the period when the Archbishop of Toulouse 
 would be placed over the finances was thereby hastened. 
 
 The royal navy had resumed an imposing attitude during the 
 war for the independence of America; a glorious peace with 
 England had compensated for the former attacks of our enemies 
 upon the fame of France; and the throne was surrounded by 
 
 * The Queen never forgot this affront of M. d'Espremenil's ; she said, 
 that as it was offered at a time "when social order had not been disturbed, 
 she had felt the severest mortification at it. Shortly before the down- 
 fall of the throne, M. d'Espremenil, having openly espoused the Bang's 
 side, was insulted in the garden of the Tuileries, by the Jacobins, 
 and so ill treated, that he was carried home very ill. Somebody recom- 
 mended the Queen, on account of the royalist principles he then pro- 
 fessed, to send and inquire after him. She replied that she was truly 
 grieved at what had happened to M. d'Espremenil, but that mere policy 
 should never induce her to show any particular solicitude about the 
 man who had been the first to make so insulting an attack upon her 
 character. Note by Madame Campan.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 233 
 
 numerous heirs. The sole ground of uneasiness was in the 
 finances, but that uneasiness related only to the manner in which 
 they were administered. In a word, France felt confidence in 
 its own strength and resources, when two events, which seem 
 scarcely worthy of a place in history, but which have neverthe- 
 less an important one in that of the French revolution, intro- 
 duced a spirit of sarcasm and contempt, not only against the 
 highest ranks, but even against the most august personages. I 
 allude to a comedy and a great swindling transaction. 
 
 Beaumarchais had long possessed a brilliant reputation in cer- 
 tain circles in Paris, for his wit and musical talents, and at the 
 theatres for dramas more or less indifferent, when his comedy 
 of " The Barber of Seville" procured him a more decided repu- 
 tation upon the French stage. His memoirs against M. Goes- 
 man had amused Paris, by the ridicule they threw upon a 
 parliament which was disliked ; and his admission to an inti- 
 macy with M. de Maurepas, procured him a degree of influence 
 over important affairs. Thus honourably situated, he became 
 ambitious of the dangerous reputation of giving a general im- 
 pulse to the minds of the people of the capital, by a kind of 
 drama, in which the most respected manners and customs were 
 held up to popular derision, and the ridicule of the new philoso- 
 phers. After several years of prosperity, the minds of the 
 French had become more generally turned to criticism and ridi- 
 cule ; and when Beaumarchais had finished his monstrous but 
 diverting Marriage of Figaro, all people of any consequence, 
 were eager for the gratification of hearing it read, for the cen- 
 sors of the police had decided that the piece should not be per- 
 formed. These readings of Figaro grew so numerous through 
 the author's politic complaisance, that people were daily heard 
 to say : I have been, or I am going to be, at the reading of 
 Beaumarchais' play. The desire to see it performed became 
 universal : an expression that he had the art to insert in his 
 work, compelled, as it were, the approbation of the superior 
 nobility, or of persons in power, who aimed at the honour of 
 being ranked among the magnanimous ; he made his Figaro say,
 
 234 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 that none but little minds dreaded little books. The Baron de 
 Breteuil, and all the men of Madame de Polignac's circle, entered 
 the lists as the warmest protectors of the comedy. Solicitations 
 to the King became so pressing, that his majesty determined to 
 judge for himself of a work which so much engrossed the pub- 
 lic attention, and desired me to ask M. Le Noir, lieutenant of 
 police, for the manuscript of the Marriage of Figaro. One 
 morning I received a note from the Queen, ordering me to be 
 with her at three o'clock, and not to come without having dined, 
 for that she should detain me some time. When I got to the 
 Queen's inner closet, I found her alone with the King; a chair 
 and a small table were ready placed, opposite to them, and upon 
 the table lay an enormous manuscript in several books. The 
 King said to me, "That is Beaumarchais' comedy; you must 
 read it to us. You will find several parts troublesome, on 
 account of the erasures aud references. I have already run it 
 over, but I wish the Queen to be acquainted with the work. 
 You will not mention this reading to any one." 
 
 I began. The King frequently interrupted me by remarks 
 which were always just, either of praise or censure. He fre- 
 quently exclaimed, " That's in bad taste ; this man continually 
 brings the Italian concetti on the stage." At that soliloquy of 
 Figaro, in which he attacks various points of government, but 
 aims most particularly at state-prisons, the King rose up, and 
 said indignantly, " That's detestable; that shall never be played : 
 the Bastile must be destroyed, before the license to act this play 
 can be any other than the act of the most dangerous folly. This 
 man scoffs at everything that is to be respected in a government." 
 Surely, the King here gave a decision, to which experience must 
 have reconciled all the enthusiastic admirers of the whimsical 
 production in question. " It will not be played, then ?" said the 
 Queen. "No, certainly/' replied Louis XVI.; "you may rely 
 upon that." 
 
 Still it was constantly reported in company, that Figaro was 
 about to be performed; there were even many wagers laid upon 
 the si bject : I never should have laid any myself, fancying
 
 MA1UE ANTOINETTE. 235 
 
 myself much better informed as to the probability than anybody 
 else; if I had, however, I should have been completely de- 
 ceived. The protectors of Beaumarchais, or rather of his work, 
 persuading themselves that they should certainly succeed in 
 their scheme of rendering it popular, in spite of the King's 
 prohibition, distributed the parts in the " Marriage of Figaro" 
 among the actors of the Theatre Francais. Beaumarchais had 
 made them enter into the spirit of his characters, and they 
 determined to enjoy at least one performance of this pretended 
 chef-d'oeuvre of the drama. The first gentleman of the chamber 
 agreed that M. de la Ferte should lend the theatre of the hotel 
 des Menus-plaisirs, at Paris, which was used for rehearsals of 
 the Opera ; tickets were distributed to a vast number of persons 
 of the first rank in society; and the day for the performance 
 was fixed. The King heard of these arrangements only on the 
 very morning of that day, and signed a lettre de cacliet,* which 
 prohibited the performance. When the messenger who brought 
 the order arrived, he found a part of the theatre already filled 
 with spectators, and the streets leading to the hotel des Menus- 
 plaisirs were filled with carriages; the piece was not performed. 
 This prohibition of the King's was looked upon as an attack on 
 public liberty. 
 
 The disappointment produced so strong a discontent, that the 
 words oppression and tyranny were uttered with no less passion 
 and bitterness at that time, than during the time which imme- 
 diately preceded the downfall of the throne. Beaumarchais was 
 so far put off his guard by rage, as to exclaim : " Well ! gentle- 
 men, he won't suffer it to be played here ; now I swear it shall 
 bo played perhaps in the very choir of Notre-Dame I" There 
 was something prophetic in these words.f It was generally 
 
 * A lettre de cachet, was any written order proceeding from the King's 
 will. The term "was not confined merely to orders for arrest. 
 
 Note by Madame Campan. 
 
 f The keeper of the seals had constantly opposed the performance 
 of this play. The King said in his presence one day, " You will see 
 that Beaumarchais will have more weight than the keeper of the seals." 
 Did that prince imagine he was speaking the truth so accurately? 
 
 gj * Note by the .Editor.
 
 236 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 insinuated, shortly afterwards, that Beaumarchais had at length 
 determined to suppress all those parts of his work which could 
 be obnoxious to government, and on pretence of judging of the 
 sacrifices made by the author, M. de Vaudreuil obtained permis- 
 sion to have this far-famed " Marriage of Figaro" performed at 
 his country house. M. Campan was asked there ; he had fre- 
 quently heard the work read, and did not now find the alterations 
 that had been announced; this he observed to several persons 
 belonging to the court, who maintained that the author had 
 made all the prescribed suppressions. Everybody came to talk 
 to him about it. M. Campan was so astonished at these asser- 
 tions in favour of an obvious falsehood, that he replied by a 
 quotation from Beaumarchais himself, and assuming the tone of 
 Basil, in the " Barber of Seville," he said : " Faith, gentlemen, 
 I don't know who is deceived here ; you all seem to be in the 
 secret." They then came to the point, and earnestly begged 
 him to tell the Queen positively, that all which had been pro- 
 nounced reprehensible in M. de Beaumarchais' play, had been 
 cut out. My father-in-law contented himself with replying, 
 that his situation at court not allowing of his giving an opinion, 
 except in case the Queen should first speak of the piece to him, 
 he could not say what he thought of it unless she should ask 
 him. The Queen said nothing to him about the matter. Per- 
 mission to perform this play was at length obtained. The 
 Queen thought the people of Paris would be finely tricked when 
 they saw merely an ill-conceived piece, devoid of interest, as 
 it must appear since i was deprived of its satire.* Under 
 the persuasion that there was not a passage left, capable 
 of malicious or dangerous application, Monsieur attended the 
 first performance in a public box. The mad enthusiasm of 
 
 * This was the opinion of Louis XVI. also. " The King," says 
 Grimm, " made sure that the public would judge unfavourably of the 
 work. He said to the Marquis de Montesquieu, who was going to see 
 the first representation, "Well, what do you augur of its success?" 
 " Sire, I hope the piece will fail." " And so do I," replied the King. 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. 237 
 
 the public in favour of the piece, and Monsieur's just displea- 
 sure, are well known. The author was sent to prison soon 
 afterwards, though his work was extolled to the skies, and 
 though the court durst not suspend its performance.* 
 
 * " There is something still more ridiculous than my piece," said 
 Beaumarchais himself; "that is, its success." Mademoiselle Arnould 
 foresaw it the first day, and exclaimed, "It is a production that will 
 fail fifty nights successively." 
 
 There was as crowded an audience on the seventy-second night, as 
 on the first. A circumstance related by Grimm enhanced the public 
 curiosity. The following is extracted from his correspondence : 
 
 " Answer of M. de Beaumarchais to the Duke de VUlcquier, who requested 
 the use of his private box for some ladies, who wished to see Figaro, without 
 being seen. 
 
 " I have no respect, M. le due, for women who indulge themselves in 
 seeing any play, which they think indecorous, provided they can do so 
 in secret. I lend myself to no such fancies. I have given my piece to the 
 public, to amuse, and not to instruct, not to give any compounding 
 prudes the pleasure of going to admire it in a private box, and balancing 
 their account with conscience by slandering it in company. To indulge 
 in the pleasure of vice, and assume the credit of virtue, is the hypocrisy 
 of the age. My piece is not of a doubtful nature ; it must be patronized 
 in good earnest, or avoided altogether ; therefore, with my respects to 
 you, M. le due, I shall keep my box." 
 
 "This letter," adds Grimm, "was circulated all over Paris for a 
 week. At first it was said to be addressed to the Duke de Villequier, 
 and afterwards to the Duke d'Aumont. It got, in this form, as far as 
 Versailles^ where it was pronounced, as it deserved to be, an extraor- 
 dinary piece of impertinence. It seemed the more insolent, inasmuch 
 as it was well known, that certain very great ladies had declared that 
 if they did go to see the " Marriage of Figaro," it should be only in a 
 private box. The most zealous partisans of M. de Beaumarchais, did 
 not dare even to attempt to vindicate him. After having enjoyed this new 
 flash of celebrity, owing either to his own consideration or to the threats 
 of his enemies, M. de Beaumarchais was compelled to announce publicly, 
 that his famous letter never was written to a duke or peer, but to one 
 of his own friends, and that upon the first spur of dissatisfaction. 
 
 It was proved that the letter was written to a president of one of the 
 parliaments, whereupon indignation subsided ; for that which appeared 
 impertinent, when addressed to men of the court, was deemed so no 
 longer, when addressed to one of the long robe. Note by the Editor.
 
 238 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Queen testified her displeasure against all who had assisted 
 the author of the "Marriage of Figaro" to deceive the King 
 into giving his consent that it should be represented. Her 
 reproaches were more particularly directed against M. de Vau- 
 dreuil, for having had it performed at his house. The violent and 
 domineering disposition of her favourite's friend, at last became 
 disagreeable to her. 
 
 One evening, on the Queen's return from the duchess's, she 
 desired her valet de chambre to bring her billiard cue into her 
 closet, and ordered me to open the box that contained it. I was 
 surprised at not finding the padlock belonging to it, the key of 
 which the Queen wore on her watch chain. I opened the box 
 and took out the cue, broken in two. It was of ivory, and 
 formed of a single elephant's tooth; the butt was of gold, and 
 very tastefully wrought. " There," said she, " that is the way 
 M. de Vaudreuil has treated a thing I valued so highly. I had 
 laid it upon the couch while I was talking to the duchess iu the 
 saloon ; he had the assurance to make use of it, and in a fit of 
 passion about a blocked ball, he struck the cue so violently 
 against the table, that he broke it in two. The noise brought 
 me back into the billiard room ; I did not say a word to him, 
 but my looks showed him how angry I was. H"e was the more 
 hurt at the accident, inasmuch as he aspires to the post of go- 
 vernor to the dauphin, and with that object in view, it is not wise 
 to expose such a fault as passion. I never thought of him for 
 the place. It is quite enough to have consulted my heart only 
 in the choice of a governess ; and I will not suffer that of go- 
 vernor to the dauphin to be at all affected by the influence of my 
 friends. I should be responsible for it to the nation. 
 
 " The poor man," continued the Queen, " does not know that 
 my determination is made ; for I have never explained upon the 
 subject to the duchess. Therefore, judge of the sort of evening 
 he must have passed. Besides, this is not the first occurrence 
 that has shown me, that however Queens may be wearied with 
 formality at home, they cannot amuse themselves elsewhere, 
 without lessening their dignity."
 
 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 BT 
 
 MADAME CAMPAN. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THERE are already so many books, that ordinary talents for 
 writing are by no means a sufficient excuse for increasing the 
 number. Convinced as I am, that the mania for publishing is 
 both censurable and ridiculous, I am far from being weak enough 
 to suffer it to affect me : but destiny having formerly placed me 
 near crowned heads, I now amuse my solitude with recording a 
 variety of facts which may prove interesting to my family when 
 I shall be no more. I have already collected all that concerned 
 the domestic life of an unfortunate princess, whose reputation 
 is not yet cleared of the stains it suffered from the attacks of 
 calumny, and who justly merited a different lot in life, a different 
 place in the opinion of mankind after her fall. These Me- 
 moirs, which were finished ten years since, have met with the 
 approbation of some persons ; and my son may, perhaps, think 
 proper to print them after my decease.* I know not whether 
 my Recollections will be thought worthy to see the light ; but 
 whilst I am occupied in writing them, my mind is diverted : I 
 pass calmer hours ; and I seem removed from the melancholy 
 scenes by which I am now surrounded, as far as the sensibility 
 of my heart will permit me to forget the present. The idea of 
 collecting all the interesting materials which my memory affords, 
 
 * When Madame Campan wrote these lines, she little thought that 
 the death of her son would precede her own. See the Biographical 
 Notice of Madame Campan. Note by the Editor. 
 
 (239)
 
 240 PREFACE. 
 
 occurred to me from reading the work, entitled, Paris, Ver- 
 sailles, and the Provinces, in the Eighteenth Century. That work, 
 composed by a man accustomed to the best society, is full of 
 piquant anecdotes, nearly all of which have been recognised as 
 true by the contemporaries of the author. Such compilations 
 are at least as valuable as those magazines of Ions mots and puns 
 which were in vogue fifty years ago. They afford facts ; they 
 introduce personages who have performed distinguished parts. 
 They are also, in some degree, capable of affording experience, 
 that most valuable acquisition, which we gain only by our errors, 
 which age renders almost useless, and which can be transmitted 
 but very imperfectly.
 
 ANECDOTES OF THE REIGN OF LOUIS XIV. 
 
 PREVIOUSLY to the Revolution, there were customs and even 
 words in use at Versailles, with which few people were ac- 
 quainted. The King's dinner was called the King's meat. Two 
 of the body-guard accompanied the attendants who carried the 
 dinner ; every one rose as they passed through the halls, saying, 
 " There is the King's meat." All precautionary duties were dis- 
 tinguished by the words in case. Some chemises and hand- 
 kerchiefs, kept in readiness in a basket in the King's or Queen's 
 apartments, in case their majesties should wish to change their 
 linen without sending to the wardrobe, constituted the packet 
 in case. Their clothes, brought in great baskets, or clothes of 
 green taffety, were called the King's or Queen's ready. Thus 
 the attendants would ask " Is the King's ready come ?" One 
 of the guards might be heard to say, " I am in case, in the 
 forest of St. Germain." In the evening, they always brought 
 the Queen a large bowl of broth, a cold roast fowl, one bottle 
 of wine, one of orgeat, one of lemonade, and some other articles, 
 which were called the in case for the night. An old medical 
 gentleman, who had been physician in ordinary to Louis XIV., 
 and was still living at the time of the marriage of Louis XV., 
 told M. Campan's father an anecdote which seems too remarka- 
 ble to have remained unknown ; nevertheless, he was an intelli- 
 gent, honourable man, and incapable of inventing this story. 
 His name was Lafosse. He said, that Louis XIV. was informed 
 that the officers of his table evinced, in the most disdainful and 
 offensive manner, the mortification they felt at being obliged to 
 eat at the table of the comptroller of the kitchen along with Mo- 
 liere, valet de chambre to his majesty, because Moliere had per- 
 formed on the stage; and that this celebrated author conse- 
 
 (241)
 
 242 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 quently declined appearing at that table. Louis XIV., 
 determined to put an end to insults which ought never to have 
 been offered to one of the greatest geniuses of the age, said one 
 morning to Moliere, at the hour of his private levee, " They say 
 you live very poorly here, Moliere ; and that the officers of my 
 chamber do not find you good enough to eat with them. Per- 
 haps you are hungry ; for my part, I awoke with a very good 
 appetite this morning : sit down at this table. Serve up my in 
 case for the night there." The King then cutting up his fowl, 
 and ordering Moliere to sit down, helped him to a wing, at the 
 same time taking one for himself, and ordered the persons enti- 
 tled to familiar entrance, that is to say, the most distinguished 
 and favourite people at court to be admitted. " You see me," 
 said the King to them, " engaged in entertaining Moliere, whom 
 my valets de chambre do not consider sufficiently good company 
 for them." From that time Moliere never had occasion to 
 appear at the valets' table ; the whole court was forward enough 
 to send him invitations.* 
 
 * This anecdote is, perhaps, one of the most honourable to the charac- 
 ter of Louis XIV. that is extant. It is pleasing to see this haughty 
 monarch behaving thus graciously to the player Moliere, as the author 
 of Tartuffe and the Misanthrope. These are the acts by which a truly 
 great prince knows how to avenge injured genius on malignant dul- 
 ness, and to reward the labours of talent. 
 
 Louis XV. was also desirous of encouraging literature ; but he was 
 only capable of affording it a cold and supercilious protection, unac- 
 companied by any demonstration of grace, affability, or kindness, and 
 more humiliating than obliging. 
 
 In the entertaining Memoirs of Madame du Hausset, one of Madame 
 de Pompadour's femmes de chambre, we meet with the following pas- 
 sage : 
 
 " The Bong, who admired all that was connected with the age of 
 Louis XIV., recollecting that the Boileaus and Racines had been pro- 
 tected by him, and that part of the splendour of that reign was attribu- 
 ted to his own, was flattered with the idea that a Voltaire flourished in 
 his own court ; but he feared that author, and did not esteem him. He 
 could not, however, help saying, ' I have treated him as well as Louis 
 XIV. behaved to Racine and Boileau ; I gave him the place of gentle-
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 243 
 
 The same M. de Lafosse used also to relate, that a brigade- 
 major of the body guard, being ordered to place the company in 
 the little theatre at the palace of Versailles, very roughly turned 
 out one of the King's comptrollers, who had taken his seat on 
 one of the benches, a place to which his newly acquired office 
 entitled him. In vain he insisted on his quality and his right. 
 The altercation was ended by the brigade-major in these words : 
 " Gentlemen body guards, do your duty." In this case their 
 duty was to take the party, and turn him out at the door. This 
 comptroller, who had paid sixty or eighty thousand francs for 
 his place, was a man of a good family, and had had the honour 
 of serving his majesty five-and-twenty years in one of his regi- 
 ments. Thus disgracefully driven out of the hall, he placed 
 himself in the King's way, in the great hall of the guards, and 
 bowing to his majesty, requested him to repair the honour of an 
 old soldier, who had wished to end his days in his prince's civil 
 employment, now that age had obliged him to relinquish his 
 military service. The King stopped, heard the tale he told in 
 accents of grief and truth, and then ordered him to follow him. 
 His majesty attended the representation in a sort of amphi- 
 theatre, in which his arm-chair was placed ; behind him was a 
 row of stools for the captain of the guards, the first gentlemen 
 of the chamber, and other great officers. The brigade-major 
 
 man in ordinary, and a pension, as Louis XIV. did to Racine. If he 
 is presumptuous enough to aim at being a chamberlain, wearing a 
 cross, and supping with the King, it is not my fault. It is not the fashion 
 in France ; and as there are more wits and great lords here, than in 
 Prussia, I should have occasion for an immense table to entertain them 
 all together.' He then counted on his fingers, ' Maupertuis, Fontenelle, 
 La Motte, Voltaire, Piron, Destouches, Montesquieu, Cardinal Polig- 
 nac.' ' Your majesty forgets,' said some one, 'D'Alembert and Clai- 
 rault.' ' And Crobillon,' said he, ' and La Chaussee.' ' Crebillon, the 
 son,' said another, ' who must be more agreeable than his father ; and 
 there is the Abbe Prevot, and the Abb6 Olivet.' 'Very well,' said the 
 King, ' all these people would have dined or supped with me for the 
 last five-and-twenty years.' " 
 
 VOL. i. 22
 
 244 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 was entitled to one of these places ; the King stopped opposite 
 the seat which ought to have been occupied by that officer, and 
 said to the comptroller : " Take, sir, for this evening, the place 
 near my person, of him who has offended you ; and let the ex- 
 pression of my displeasure at this unjust affront, satisfy you 
 instead of any other reparation." 
 
 During the latter years of the reign of Louis XIV., he never 
 went out but in a chair carried by porters, and he showed much 
 partiality for a man of the name of D'Aigremont, one of these 
 porters, who always went in front, and opened the door of the 
 chair. The slightest preference shown by sovereigns, even to 
 the meanest of their servants, never fails to excite observation.* 
 The King had done something for this man's numerous family, 
 and frequently talked to him. An abbe" belonging to the char 
 pel, thought proper to request D'Aigremont to present a memo- 
 rial to the King, in which he petitioned his majesty to grant him 
 a benefice. Louis XIV. did not approve of the liberty thug 
 taken by his chairman, and said to him, in a very angry tone : 
 " D'Aigremont, you have been made to do a very unbecoming 
 act, and I am sure there must be simony in the case." "No, 
 Sire, there is not the least ceremony in the case, I asure you," 
 answered the poor man, in great consternation : " the abbe only 
 said he would give me a hundred louis." " D'Aigremont," said 
 the King, " I forgive you on account of your ignorance and can- 
 dour ; I will give you the hundred louis out of my privy purse ; 
 
 * This reflection is justified by an anecdote, which was probably un- 
 known to the author. People of the very first rank did not disdain to 
 descend to the level of D'Aigremont. "Lauzun," says the Duchess 
 d' Orleans, in her Memoirs, "sometimes affects stupidity, in order to 
 tell the people their own with impunity ; for he is very malicious. In 
 order to make Marshal Tesse" feel the impropriety of his familiarity 
 with people of the common sort, he called out, in the drawing-room at 
 Marly, 'Marshal, give me a pinch of snuff; some of your best; such as 
 you take in a morning with Monsieur d'Aigrement, the chairman.' " 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 245 
 
 but I will discharge you the very next time you venture to pre- 
 sent a memorial to me." 
 
 Louis XIV. was very kind to those of his servants who were 
 nearest his person ; but the moment he assumed his royal deport- 
 ment, those who were most accustomed to see him in his domes- 
 tic character, were as much intimidated, as if they were appear- 
 ing in his presence for the first time in their lives. Some of 
 the members of his majesty's civil household, then called tom- 
 mensalite, enjoying the title of equerry, and the privileges 
 attached to officers of the King's household, had occasion to 
 claim some prerogatives, the exercise of which the municipal 
 body of St. Germain, where they resided, disputed with them. 
 Being assembled in considerable numbers in that town, they 
 obtained the consent of the minister of the household, to allow 
 them to send a deputation to the King ; and for that purpose, 
 chose from amongst themselves, two of his majesty's valets de 
 chambre, named Bazire, and Soulaigrc. The King's levee being 
 over, the deputation of the inhabitants of the town of St. Ger- 
 main was called in; they entered with confidence; the King 
 looked at them, and assumed his imposing attitude. Bazire, one 
 of these valets de chambre, was about to speak ; but Louis the 
 Great was looking on him. He no longer saw the prince he was 
 accustomed to attend at home : he was intimidated, and could 
 not find words; he recovered, however, and began, as usual, with 
 the word 'Sire. But timidity again overpowered him, and find- 
 ing himself unable to recollect the slightest particle of what he 
 came to say, he repeated the word Sire several times over, and at 
 length concluded by saying, "Sire, here is Soulaigre." Sonlaigre, 
 who was very angry with Bazire, and expected to acquit himself 
 much better, then began to speak. But he, also, after repeating 
 Sire several times, found his embarrassment increase upon him, 
 until his confusion equalled that of kis colleague ; he therefore 
 ended with, " Sire, here is Bazire." The King smiled, and 
 answered : " Gentlemen, I have been informed of the business 
 upon which you have been deputed to wait on me, and I wilt
 
 246 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 take care, that what is right shall be done. I am highly satis- 
 fied with the manner in which you have fulfilled your functions 
 as deputies."* 
 
 * In this pleasantry there is nothing bitter or harsh, as in most of 
 those of Louis XV. ; it leaves only the impression of an agreeable piece 
 of wit. Louis XIV. never indulged in an expression capable of offend- 
 ing any one, and his repartees, which were almost always full of mean- 
 ing, often discover a refined and delicate tact. Generally speaking, wit, 
 either poignant and caustic, or pleasant and lively, has never been 
 wanting in the descendants of Henry IV. In the Memoirs of Madame 
 du Hausset, there is a striking observation by Duclos on this subject. 
 
 " M. Duclos was at Doctor Quesnay's, haranguing with his usual 
 warmth. I heard him say to two or three persons, ' The world is 
 always unjust towards great men, ministers, and princes ; nothing is 
 more common than to deny them all claims to wit. A few days ago I 
 surprised one of these gentlemen of the infallible brigade, by telling him 
 that there has been more wit in the house of Bourbon than in any 
 "other.' ' Did you prove that' ? said some one with a sneer. ' Yes,' said 
 Duclos, ' and I will prove it to you. I presume you allow that the 
 great Conde 1 was no fool, and the Duchess de Longueville is celebrated 
 as one of the most brilliant of women. The regent was unrivalled for 
 wit of every kind. The Prince de Conti, who was elected King of Po- 
 land, was distinguished for this quality, and his verses are equal to 
 those of La Fare and Saint Aulaire. The Duke of Burgundy was 
 learned and enlightened. The Duchess, Madame, daughter of Louis 
 XV., was an eminent wit, and made epigrams and couplets. The 
 Duke de Maine is in general known only by his weakness ; but no one 
 could have more agreeable talents for conversation. His wife was a 
 giddy creature, but she was fond of literature, understood poetry, and 
 possessed a brilliant and inexhaustible imagination. I have now men- 
 tioned enough of them,' continued he; 'and, as I am not given to 
 flattery, and hate even the appearance of it, I shall say nothing of the 
 living.' This list excited astonishment, and every one subsc/iiicJ to 
 the truth of his assertions.' '
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 247 
 
 ANECDOTES OF THE REIGN OF LOUIS XV. 
 
 THE first event which made any impression on me in my 
 earliest childhood, was the attempt of Damiens to assassinate 
 Louis XV. This occurrence struck me so forcibly, that the 
 most minute details relating to the confusion and grief which 
 prevailed at Versailles on that day, seem as completely present 
 to my imagination, as the most recent events. I had dined 
 with my father and mother, in company with one of their friends. 
 The drawing-room was lighted up with a number of tapers, and 
 four card tables were already occupied, when a friend of the 
 gentleman of the house came in with a pale and terrified coun- 
 tenance, and said, in a voice scarcely audible, " I bring you 
 terrible news. The King has been assassinated !" Two ladies 
 in company instantly fainted ; a brigadier of the body-guards 
 threw down his cards, and cried out, "I do not wonder at it; it 
 is those rascally Jesuits." " What are you saying, brother," 
 cried a lady, flying to him ; " would you get yourself arrested ?" 
 "Arrested! for what? for unmasking those wretches who 
 want a bigot for a King ?" My father came in : he recommended 
 circumspection, saying that the blow was not mortal, and that 
 all meetings ought to be suspended at so critical a moment. He 
 had brought a chaise for my mother, who placed me on her 
 knees. We lived in the avenue of Paris, and throughout our 
 drive I heard incessant cries and sobs from the foot-paths. At 
 last I saw a man arrested ; he was an usher of the King's cham- 
 ber, who had gone mad, and was crying out, " Yes, I know them, 
 the wretches, the villains I" Our chaise was stopped by this 
 bustle; my mother recognised the unfortunate man who had 
 been seized ; she named him to the marshalsea trooper who had 
 stopped him. This faithful servant was merely conducted to 
 
 22*
 
 248 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 the gendarmes' Tiotel, which was then in the avenue. In times 
 of public calamities, or national events, the slightest acts of 
 imprudence may be fatal. When the people take part in an 
 opinion or occurrence, we ought to avoid coming in contact with 
 them, and even alarming them. Informations are no longer the 
 result of an organized police, and punishments cease to emanate 
 from impartial justice. At the period of which I am speak- 
 ing, the love of the sovereign was a sort of religion, and this 
 attempt against the life of Louis XV. brought on a multitude 
 of groundless arrests.* M. de la Serre, then governor of the 
 Invalides, his wife, his daughter, and some of his domestics, 
 were taken up, because Mademoiselle de la Serre, who was that 
 very day come from her convent to pass the holiday of the 
 King's birth-day with her family, said, in her father's drawing- 
 room, on hearing this news from Versailles, " That it is not to 
 
 be wondered at ; I have often heard Mother N say, that it 
 
 would certainly happen, because the King is not sufficiently 
 
 attached to religion." Mother N , the director, and several 
 
 of the nuns of this convent, were interrogated by the lieutenant 
 of police. The public animosity against the Jesuits, kept up by 
 the partisans of Port Royal and the adepts of the new philosophy, 
 did not conceal the suspicions which they directed against the 
 Jesuits ; and, although there was not the slightest proof against 
 that order, the attempt to assassinate the King was certainly 
 made use of against it, a few years afterwards, by the party 
 which effected the destruction of the company of Jesus. The 
 wretch Damiens avenged himself on several persons whom he 
 had served in several provinces, by getting them arrested ; and 
 when they were confronted with him, he said to some of them, 
 " It was out of revenge to your ill-treatment of me, that I put 
 
 * At this period Louis XV. "was still beloved. In the Historical 
 Illustrations (letter V) will be found a notice relative to this attempt 
 to assassinate the King, together with some curious facts related by 
 Madame de Hausset, on the momentary disgrace of Madame de Pompa- 
 dour, and her subsequent triumph on the King's recovery. 
 
 Notf by the Editor.
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 249 
 
 you into this fright." To some women, he said, " That he had 
 amused himself in his prison, with the thoughts of the terror 
 they would feel." This monster confessed, that he had murdered 
 the virtuous La Bourdonnaye, by giving him a lavement of aqua- 
 fortis. He had also committed several other crimes. People 
 are too careless about those whom they take into their service ; 
 such examples prove, that too many precautions cannot be used 
 in ascertaining the character of strangers, before we admit them 
 into our houses. 
 
 I have often heard M. de Landsmath, equerry and master of 
 the hounds, who used to come frequently to my father's, say, 
 that, on the news of the attempt on the King's life, he instantly 
 repaired to his majesty. I cannot repeat the coarse expressions 
 he made use of to encourage his majesty : but his account of 
 the affair, long afterwards, used to entertain the parties in which 
 he was prevailed on to relate it, when all apprehensions respect- 
 ing the consequences of this event had subsided. This M. de 
 Landsmath was an old soldier, who had given proofs of an 
 extraordinary valour : nothing had been able to soften his man- 
 ners or subdue his excessive bluntness to the respectful customs 
 of the court. The King was very fond of him. He possessed 
 prodigious strength, and had often contended with Marshal 
 Saxe, renowned for his great bodily power, in trying the strength 
 of their respective wrists.* M. de Landsmath had a thundering 
 voice. When he came into the King's apartment, he found the 
 dauphin, and inesdames, his majesty's daughters, there; the 
 princesses, in tears, surrounded the King's bed. "Send out all 
 these weeping ladies, Sire," said the old equerry; "I want to 
 speak to you alone." The King made a sign to the princesses 
 
 * One day, when the King was hunting in the forest of St. Germain, 
 Landsmath, riding before him, wanted a cart, filled with mud from a 
 pond that had just been cleansed, to draw up out of the way. The carter 
 resisted, and even answered with impertinence. Landsmath, without 
 dismounting, seized him by the breast of his coat, lifted him up, and 
 threw him into his cart. Note by Madame Campan.
 
 5J-50 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 to withdraw. "Come," said Landsmath, "your wound is no- 
 thing; you had plenty of waistcoats and flannel on." Then 
 uncovering his breast, " Look here," said he, showing four or 
 five great scars ; " these are something like wounds : I received 
 them thirty years ago ; now cough as loud as you can." The 
 King did so. Then taking up a vase de nuit, he desired his 
 majesty, in the most unceremonious way, to make use of it, 
 which he did. " 'Tis nothing at all," said Landsmath ; " you 
 must laugh at it ; we shall hunt a stag together in four days." 
 " But suppose the blade was poisoned," said the King. " Old 
 grandam's tales," replied Landsmath ; " if it had been so, the 
 waistcoats and flannels would have rubbed the poison off." The 
 King was tranquillized, and passed a very good night. 
 
 This same M. Landsmath, who, by his military and familiar 
 language, thus calmed the fears of Louis XV. on the day of 
 Damiens' horrible crime, was one of those people, who, in the 
 most haughty courts, often tell the truth bluntly. It is remark- 
 able, that there is a person of this description to be found in 
 almost every court, who seems to supply the place of the ancient 
 King's jester, and to claim the right of saying whatever he 
 pleases. 
 
 His majesty one day asked M. de Landsmath, how old he 
 was ? He was aged, and by no means fond of thinking of his 
 age; he evaded the question. A fortnight after, Louis XV. 
 took a paper out of his pocket, and read aloud, " On such a day 
 in the month of * * *, one thousand six hundred and eighty 
 * * *, was baptized by me, rector of * * *, the son of the high 
 and mighty lord, &c." " What's that ?" said Landsmath, angrily ; 
 " has your majesty been procuring the certificate of my bap- 
 tism ?" " There it is, you see, Landsmath," said the King. 
 " Well, Sire, hide it as fast as you can ; a prince intrusted with 
 the happiness of twenty-five millions of men, ought not to hurt 
 the feelings of one individual at pleasure." 
 
 The King learned that Landsmath had lost his confessor, a 
 missionary priest of the parish of Notre Dame; it was the
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 251 
 
 custom of the lazarists to expose their dead, with the face un- 
 covered. Louis XV. wished to try his equerry's firmness. 
 " You have lost your confessor, I hear/' said the King. " Yes, 
 Sire." " He will be exposed with his face bare ?" " Such is 
 the custom." "I command you to go and see him." "Sire, 
 my confessor was my friend ; it would be very painful to me." 
 "No matter; I command you." "Are you really in earnest, 
 Sire?" "Quite so." "It would be the first time in my life 
 that I had disobeyed my sovereign's order. I will go." The 
 next day, the King, at his levee, as soon as he perceived Lands- 
 math, said : " Have you done as I desired you, Landsmath ?" 
 " Undoubtedly, Sire." " Well, what did you see ?" " Faith, 
 I saw that your majesty and I are no great things !"* 
 
 At the death of Queen Maria Leckzinska, M. Campan, who 
 was afterwards secretary of the closet to Marie Antoinette, and 
 at that time an officer of the chamber, having performed several 
 confidential duties at the time of that Queen's decease, the King 
 asked Madame Adelaide, how he should reward him. She re- 
 quested him to create an office in his household, of master of the 
 wardrobe, with a salary of a thousand crowns, for M. Campan. 
 " I will do so," said the King ; " it will be an honourable title ; 
 but tell Campan not to add a single crown to his expenses, for 
 you will see they will never pay him." 
 
 * " The King often talked about death, burials, and cemeteries," 
 says Madame de Hausset: "nobody could be more melancholy by na- 
 ture. Madame de Pompadour has often told me^that he felt a painful 
 sensation whenever he was forced to laugh, and that he often requested 
 her to put an end to a diverting story. He smiled, and that was all. 
 He had, in general, the most gloomy ideas on all events. When a new 
 minister came into office, the King would say, ' He spread out his goods, 
 like the rest, and promised the finest things in the world, none of which 
 will ever happen. He does not know how the land lies : he will see.' 
 "When schemes for increasing the naval force were proposed to him, he 
 used to say, ' I have heard it talked of continually, for the last twenty 
 years ; France will never have a navy, I believe.' I had this from M. 
 de Marigny." Note by the Editor.
 
 252 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 The manner in which Mademoiselle de Romans, mistress to 
 Louis XV. and mother of the Abbe Bourbon, was presented to 
 him, deserves, I think, to be related. The King had gone, with 
 a grand cavalcade, to Paris, to hold a bed of justice. As he 
 passed the terrace of the Tuileries, he observed a chevalier de 
 St. Louis, dressed in a faded lustring coat, and a woman of a 
 pretty good figure, holding on the parapet of the terrace a young 
 girl strikingly beautiful, much adorned, and dressed in a rose- 
 coloured taffety frock. The King's notice was involuntarily 
 attracted by the marked manner in which he was pointed out to 
 the girl. On returning to Versailles, he called Le Bel, the 
 minister and confidant of his secret pleasures, and ordered him to 
 seek in Paris a young female about twelve or thirteen ye^s of 
 age, describing her as I have just done. Le Bel assured him he 
 saw no probability of the success of such a commission. "Par- 
 don me," said Louis XV. " this family must live in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the Tuileries, on the side of the faubourg Saint 
 Honore", or at the entrance of the faubourg St. Germain. These 
 people certainly go on foot ; they did not make the girl, of whom 
 they seemed so fond, cross all Paris. They are poor ; the clothes 
 of the child were so new, that I have no doubt they were made 
 for the very day I was to go to Paris. She will wear that dress 
 all the summer ; they will walk in the Tuileries on Sundays 
 and holidays. Apply to the man who sells lemonade at the 
 terrace of the Feuillans j children take refreshment there ; you 
 will discover her by these means." 
 
 Le Bel fulfilled his master's orders ; and within a month dis- 
 covered the dwelling of the girl ; he found that Louis XV. was 
 not in the least mistaken with respect to the intentions which he 
 supposed to exist. All conditions were easily agreed on ; the 
 King contributed, by considerable presents, to the education of 
 Mademoiselle de Romans, for the space of two years. She was 
 kept totally ignorant of her future destiny ; and, when she had 
 completed her fifteenth year, she was taken to Versailles, on 
 pretence of going to see the palace. Between four and five 
 o'clock in the afternoon, she was conducted into the mirror gal-
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 253 
 
 lery. All the grand apartments were usually deserted at that 
 hour. Le Bel, who waited for them, opened the glass door 
 which led from the gallery into the King's closet, and invited 
 Mademoiselle de Romans to go in and examine its beauties. 
 Encouraged by the sight of a man whom she knew, and excited 
 by the curiosity so excusable at her age, she eagerly accepted 
 the offer, but insisted on Le Bel's procuring the same pleasure 
 for her parents. He assured her that it was impossible ; that 
 they were going to sit down in one of the windows of the gal- 
 lery and wait for her, and that, when she had seen the inner 
 apartments, he would bring her back to them. She consented ; 
 the glass door closed on her. Le Bel showed her the chamber, 
 the council room, and talked with enthusiasm of the monarch 
 who possessed the magnificence with which she was surrounded ; 
 and, at length, conducted her to the private apartments, where 
 Mademoiselle de Romans found the King himself, awaiting her 
 arrival with all the impatience and eagerness of a prince, who 
 had been two years engaged in bringing about the moment of 
 this interview. 
 
 What painful reflections are excited by all this immorality ! 
 the art with which this intrigue had been carried on, and the 
 genuine innocence of the youthful De Romans, were doubtless 
 the motives of the King's particular attachment to this mistress. 
 She was the only one who prevailed on him to allow her son to 
 bear the name of Bourbon. At the moment of his birth, she 
 received a note in the King's handwriting, containing the 
 following words : " The rector of Chaillot, when he baptizes the 
 child of Mademoiselle de Romans, will give him the following 
 names : Louis N. de Bourbon." A few years afterwards, the 
 King, being dissatisfied at the importance which Mademoiselle 
 de Romans assumed, on account of her good fortune in having 
 given birth to an acknowledged son, and seeing, by the splendid 
 way in which she was bringing him up, that she entertained the 
 idea of causing him to be legitimatized, had him taken out of 
 his mother's hand. This commission was executed with great 
 severity. Louis XV. had vowed never to legitimatize a natural
 
 254 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 child ; the great number of princes of this description which 
 Louis XIV. had left, was burthensome to the state, and made 
 this determination of Louis XV. truly laudable. The Abbe" 
 Bourbon was very handsome, and exactly resembled his father ; 
 he was much beloved by the princesses, the King's daughters ; 
 and his ecclesiastical elevation would have been carried by Louis 
 XV. to the highest degree. A cardinal's hat was intended for 
 him, as well as the abbey of St. Germain des Pr6s and the 
 bishopric of Bayeux. Without being considered one of the 
 princes of the blood, he would have enjoyed a most happy lot. 
 He died at Rome, of the confluent small-pox ; he was generally 
 regretted there; but the unfortunate events by which his family 
 have since been afflicted, afford reason to regard his death as 
 a merciful dispensation of providence. Mademoiselle de Romans 
 married a gentleman named Cavanac ; the King was displeased 
 at it, and she was universally blamed for having, in some degree, 
 abandoned, by this alliance, the plain title of mother of the 
 Abbe de Bourbon.* 
 
 * This anecdote is calculated to excite mournful reflections ; but its 
 impression is heightened by the fact, that many similar adventures 
 took place. In the Historical Illustrations (letter W), will be found 
 two anecdotes, the one related by Soulavie, the other by Madame de 
 Hausset, which, although the names of the parties differ, are but too 
 similar to this of Mademoiselle de Romans. 
 
 The following article, written with extraordinary impartiality by M. 
 de Lacretelle, leaves no possible doubt as to the origin and extent of 
 these scandalous practices : 
 
 " Louis, satiated with the conquests which the court offered him, was 
 led, by a depraved imagination, to form an establishment for his plea- 
 sures, of such an infamous description, that after having depicted the 
 debaucheries of the regency, it is difficult to find terms appropriate to 
 an excess of this kind. Several elegant houses, built in an enclosure 
 called the Parc-aux-ccrfs, were used for the reception of women, who 
 there awaited the pleasure of their master. Hither -were brought young 
 girls, sold by their parents, and sometimes forced from them. They 
 left this place loaded with gifts, but almost certain of never more behold- 
 ing the King who had dishonoured them, even when they bore with 
 them a pledge of his base passion. Hence corruption found its way
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 255 
 
 The monotonous habits of royal greatness too frequently in- 
 spire princes with the desire of procuring for themselves the 
 enjoyments of private individuals; and then they vainly flatter 
 themselves with the hope of remaining concealed in mysterious 
 obscurity ; they ought to be warned of these transitory errors, 
 and accustomed to support the tediousness of greatness, as well 
 as to enjoy its extensive advantages, which they well know how 
 to do. Louis XV., by his noble carriage, and the mild yet 
 majestic expression of his features, was perfectly worthy to 
 succeed to Louis the Great. But he too frequently indulged in 
 secret pleasures, which at last were sure to become known. During 
 several winters, he was passionately fond of candles' end balls, 
 as he called those parties amongst the very lowest classes of 
 society. He got intelligence of the pic-nics given by little 
 dealers, milliners, and seamstresses of Versailles, whither he 
 repaired in a black domino, and masked, accompanied by the 
 captain of his guards, masked like himself. His great delight 
 was to go en brouette.* Care was always taken to give notice 
 
 into the most peaceful and obscure habitations. It was skilfully and 
 patiently fostered, by those who ministered to the debaucheries of Louis: 
 Whole years were occupied in the seduction of girls, not yet of marriage- 
 able age, and in undermining the principles of modesty and fidelity in 
 young women. Some of these victims were so unhappy as to feel a 
 true affection and sincere attachment to the King. For a few minutes 
 he would seem moved by the*ir fidelity, but he quickly repressed such 
 feelings, and persuaded himself that it was all artifice, intended to 
 govern him ; and he himself became the informer against them to the mar- 
 chioness, who soon forced her rivals back into their original obscurity. 
 Mademoiselle de Romans was the only one who procured her son to be 
 acknowledged as the King's child. Madame de Pompadour succeeded 
 in removing a rival, who seemed to have made so profound an impres- 
 sion on the King's heart. Mademoiselle de Romans had her son taken 
 from her ; he was brought up by a peasant, and his mother durst not 
 protest against this outrage, until after the King's death. Louis XVI. 
 restored her her son, and took him under his protection ; he was after- 
 wards known under the name of the Abbe" de Bourbon. (History of 
 France, by Lacretelle, vol. iii.) Note by the Editor. 
 
 * In a kind of sedan chair, running on two wheels, and drawn by a 
 chairman. 
 VOL. I. 23
 
 256 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 to five or six officers of the King's or Queen's chamber to be 
 there, in order that his majesty might be surrounded by safe 
 people, without perceiving it or finding it troublesome. Proba- 
 bly the captain of the guards also took other precautions of this 
 description, on his part. My father-in-law, when the King and 
 he were both young, has often made one amongst the servants 
 desired to attend masked at these parties, assembled in some 
 garret, or parlour of a public house. In those times, during 
 the carnival, masked companies had a right to join the citizens' 
 balls ; it was sufficient that one of the party should unmask and 
 name himself. 
 
 These secret excursions, and his too habitual intercourse with 
 ladies more distinguished for their personal charms than the 
 advantages of education, were no doubt the means by which the 
 King acquired many vulgar expressions, which otherwise would 
 never have reached his ears. 
 
 Yet amidst the most shameful excesses, the King sometimes 
 resumed suddenly the dignity of his rank, in a very noble man- 
 ner. The familiar courtiers of Louis XV. had one day abandoned 
 themselves to the unrestrained gayety of a supper, after returning 
 from the chase. Each boasted and described the beauty of his 
 mistress. Some of them amused themselves with giving a par- 
 ticular account of their wife's personal defects, and in claiming 
 extraordinary merit for their performance of marital duties. An 
 imprudent word, addressed to Louis XV., and applicable only 
 to the Queen, instantly dispelled all the mirth of the entertain- 
 ment. The King assumed his regal air, and, knocking with his 
 knife on the table twice or thrice ; " Gentlemen," said he, " here 
 is the King."* 
 
 Three young men of the college of St. Germain, who had just 
 
 * No anecdote could more completely expose the excessive corruption 
 of the times, than this shameful conduct of married men ; although that 
 of their wives was probably no better. According to facts mentioned 
 by Soulavie, there were women audacious enough to demand evidence of 
 their own infamy, in order to effect a separation from their husbands. 
 
 Note by the Editor.
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 257 
 
 completed their course of studies, knowing no person about the 
 court, /and having heard that strangers were always well treated 
 there, resolved to dress themselves completely in the Armenian 
 costume, and, thus clad, to present themselves to see the grand 
 ceremony of the reception of several knights of the order of the 
 Holy Ghost. The stratagem met with a% the success with which 
 they had flattered themselves. While the procession was passing 
 through the long mirror gallery, the Swiss of the apartments 
 placed them in the first row of spectators, recommending every 
 one to pay all possible attention to the strangers. The latter, 
 however, were imprudent enough to enter the bull's eye, where 
 were Messieurs Cardonne and Ruffin, interpreters of oriental 
 languages, and the first clerk of the consul's department, whose 
 business it was to attend to everything which related to the 
 natives of the east, who were in France. The three scholars 
 were immediately surrounded and questioned by these gentlemen ; 
 at first in modern Greek. Without being disconcerted, they 
 made signs that they did not understand it. They were then 
 addressed in Turkish and Arabic : at length, one of the inter- 
 preters, losing all patience, exclaimed : " Gentlemen, you cer- 
 tainly must understand some of the languages in which you 
 have been addressed : what country can you possibly come from, 
 then ?" " From St. Germain-en-Laye, Sir," replied the boldest 
 amongst them; " this is the first time you have put the question 
 to us in French." They then confessed the motive of their dis- 
 guise ; the eldest of them was not more than eighteen years of 
 age. Louis XV. was informed of the affair. He laughed 
 heartily ; ordered them a few hours confinement, and a good 
 admonition ; after which they were to be set at liberty. 
 
 Louis XV. liked to talk about death, though he was extremely 
 apprehensive of it; but his excellent health and his royal 
 dignity probably made him imagine himself invulnerable : he 
 often said to people, who had very bad colds, " You've a church- 
 yard cough there." Hunting one day in the forest of Senard, 
 in a year in which bread was extremely dear, he met a man on
 
 258 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 horseback, carrying a coffin. " Whither are you carrying that 
 coffin?" "To the village of ***," answered the peasant. "Is 
 it for a man or a woman ?" " For a man." " What did he die 
 of?" "Hunger," bluntly replied the villager. The King 
 spurred his horse, and asked no more questions. 
 
 When I was young, I often met with Madame de Marchais, 
 the wife of the King's first valet de chambre, in company. She 
 was a very well informed woman, and had enjoyed the favour of 
 Louis XV., being a relation of Madame de Pompadour. M. de 
 Marchais was rich and much respected ; had served in the army, 
 was a chevalier de St. Louis, and, besides being principal valet 
 de chambre, was governor of the Louvre. Madame de Marchais 
 was visited by the whole court ; the captains of the guards came 
 there constantly, and many officers of the body guard. Eminent 
 officers of every kind used to get introduced to her, as to Ma- 
 dame Greoffrin : she possessed some influence, particularly in 
 soliciting votes for the candidates for the academicians' chairs. 
 I have seen all the celebrated men of the age at her house ; La 
 Harpe, Diderot, D'Alembert, Duclos, Thomas, &c. She was 
 remarkable for her wit and studious display, as her husband for 
 his good-nature and simplicity ; he was fond of spoiling her most 
 innnocent schemes for obtaining admiration. No one could 
 describe an academical speech, a sermon, or the subject of a new 
 piece, with so much precision and grace, as Madame de Marchais. 
 She had, also, the art of turning the conversation, at pleasure, 
 upon any ancient or modern work; and her husband often de- 
 lighted in saying to those who sat near him : " My wife read 
 that this morning." Count Angiviller, charmed with the graces 
 of her mind, paid assiduous court tether, and, when she became 
 the widow of M. de Marchais, married her. She was still living 
 at Versailles, in the early part of the reign of Napoleon, but 
 never left her bed. She had retained her fondness for dress, 
 and although unable to rise, always had her hair dressed, as 
 people used to wear it twenty years before that period. She 
 disguised the ravages of time, under a prodigious quantity of
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 259 
 
 white and red paint, and seemed, by the feeble light which pene- 
 trated through her closed blinds and drawn curtains, nothing 
 but a kind of doll ; but a doll which spoke in a charming and 
 most spirited manner. She had retained a very beautiful head 
 of hair to an advanced age ; it was said that the celebrated Count 
 St. Germain, who had appeared at the court of Louis XV., as 
 one of the most famous alchemists of the day, had given her a 
 liquor which preserved the hair, and prevented it from turning 
 white through age. 
 
 Louis XV. had, as it is well known, adopted the whimsical 
 system of separating Louis de Bourbon from the King of France. 
 As a private individual, he had his personal fortune, his own 
 distinct financial interests. He used to deal as an individual, in 
 all the contracts and bargains he engaged in ; he had bought a 
 tolerably handsome house at the Parc-aux-cerfs at Versailles, 
 where he used to keep one of those obscure mistresses, whom 
 the indulgence or the policy of Madame de Pompadour tolerated, 
 so long as she herself retained the title of his declared mistress. 
 After the King had relinquished this custom, he wished to sell 
 the house. Sevin, first clerk of the war office, offered to pur- 
 chase it ; the notary instructed to effect the sale, informed the 
 King of his proposals. The contract for the sale was made out 
 between Louis de Bourbon and Pierre Sevin ; and the King sent 
 word to the purchaser, to bring him the money himself, in gold. 
 The first clerk collected 40,000 francs in louis d'or, and being 
 introduced by the notary of the King's private cabinet, delivered 
 the purchase-money of the house into his majesty's own hands. 
 
 Out of his private funds, the King paid the household ex- 
 penses of his mistresses, those of the education of his illegitimate 
 daughters, who were brought up in convents at Paris, and their 
 dowries when they married. 
 
 Men of the most dissolute manners, are not, on that account, 
 insensible to virtue in women. The Countess de Perigord was 
 as beautiful as virtuous. During some excursions she made to 
 
 23*
 
 2CO RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 Choisy, whither she had been invited, she perceived that the 
 King took great notice of her. Her demeanour of chilling 
 respect, her cautious perseverance in shunning all serious con- 
 versation with the monarch, were insufficient to extinguish this 
 rising flame ; and he at length addressed a letter to her, worded 
 in the most passionate terms. This excellent woman instantly 
 formed her resolution : honour forbade her returning the King' s 
 passion, whilst her profound respect for the sovereign made her 
 unwilling to disturb his tranquillity. She, therefore, voluntarily 
 banished herself to an estate she possessed, called Chalais, near 
 Barbezieux, the mansion of which had been uninhabited nearly 
 a century : the porter's lodge was the only place in a condition 
 to receive her. From this seat she wrote to his majesty, ex- 
 plaining her motives for leaving court ; and she remained there 
 several years, without visiting Paris. Louis XV. was speedily 
 attracted by other objects, and regained the composure to which 
 Madame de Perigord had thought it her duty to make so great 
 a sacrifice. Some years afterwards the princesses' lady of honour 
 died ; many great families solicited the place : the King, without 
 answering any of their applications, wrote to the Countess de 
 Perigord. "My daughters have just lost their lady of honour; 
 this place, madame, is your due, no less on account of your 
 eminent virtues, than of the illustrious name of your family." 
 
 Count d'Halville, sprung from a very ancient Swiss house, 
 commenced his career at Versailles, in the humble rank of ensign 
 in the regiment of Swiss guards. His name and distinguished 
 qualities gained him the patronage of some powerful friends, who, 
 in order to support the honour of the ancient name he bore, by 
 a handsome fortune, obtained for him in marriage the daughter 
 of a very rich financier, named M. de la Garde. The offspring 
 of this union was an only daughter, who married Count Ester- 
 hazy. Amongst the estates which belonged to Mademoiselle de 
 la Garde, was the Chateau des Trous, situate four leagues from 
 Versailles, where the Count was visited by many people attached 
 to the court. A young ensign of the body guards, who had ob-
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 261 
 
 tained that rank on account of his name, and of the favour which 
 his family enjoyed, and possessed all the confidence which usually 
 accompanies unmerited success, but of which the progress of 
 time fortunately relieves young people, was one day taking upon 
 him to give his opinion of the Swiss nobility, although he knew 
 nothing of the great families of Switzerland. Without the least 
 delicacy or consideration for the count, his host, he asserted 
 boldly that there were no ancient families in Switzerland. 
 "Excuse me/' said the count very coolly; "there are several of 
 great antiquity." "Can you name them, sir?" answered the 
 youth. "Yes," said M. deHalville; "for instance, there is my 
 house, and that of Hapsburg, which now reigns in Germany." 
 " Of course you have your reasons for naming your own family 
 first?" replied the imprudent ensign. "Yes, sir," said M. de 
 Halville, sternly; "because the house of Hapsburg dates from 
 the period when its founder was page to my ancestors. Read 
 history, study the antiquities of nations and families ; and, in 
 future, be more circumspect in your assertions." 
 
 Weak as Louis XV. was, the parliaments would never have 
 obtained his consent to the convocation of the States-general. I 
 heard an anecdote on this subject from two officers attached to 
 that prince's household. It was at the period when the remon- 
 strances of the parliaments and the refusals to register the 
 decrees for levying the taxes, produced alarm with respect to the 
 state of the finances. This became the subject of conversation 
 one evening at the coucher of Louis XY. ; " You will see, Sire," 
 said a courtier, whose office placed him in close communication 
 with the King, " that all this will make it absolutely necessary 
 to assemble the States-general." The King, roused by this 
 speech from his habitual apathy, seized the courtier by the arm, 
 and said to him, in a passion, " Never repeat those words : I 
 am not sanguinary ; but had I a brother, and he were to dare to 
 give me such advice, I would sacrifice him, within twenty-four 
 hours, to the duration of the monarchy, and the tranquillity of 
 the kingdom."
 
 Natural causes of the death of the Dauphin, the father of Louis 
 XVI., and of the Dauphiness, Princess of Saxony, in answer 
 to all the reports spread l>y Soulavie, about poison * 
 
 Several years prior to his death, the dauphin had a confluent 
 sinall-pcx, which endangered his life ; and after his convales- 
 cence, he was long troubled with a malignant ulcer under the 
 nose. He was injudiciously advised to get rid of it by the use 
 of extract of lead, which proved effectual; but, from that time, 
 the dauphin, who was corpulent, insensibly grew thin ; and a 
 short, dry cough evinced, that the humour, driven in, had fallen 
 on the lungs. Some persons also suspected him of having taken 
 acids in too great a quantity, for the purpose of reducing his 
 bulk. The state of his health was not, however, such as to 
 excite alarm, at the time of the camp at Compiegne, in July, 
 1764. The dauphin reviewed the troops, and exerted much 
 activity in the performance of his duties ; it was even observed, 
 that he was seeking to gain the attachment of the army. He 
 presented the dauphiness to the soldiers, saying, with a sim- 
 plicity which at that time made a great sensation, " My children, 
 here is my wife." Returning late on horseback to Compiegne, 
 he found himself cold : the heat of the day had been excessive : 
 the prince's clothes had been wet with perspiration. An illness 
 
 * We leave the title of this piece as it stands ; but it is proper to re- 
 mark, that the reproach here applied to Soulavie, is not perfectly well 
 founded. He has only done that -which is the duty of every impartial 
 annalist. He has, indeed, stated the odious accusations -which were 
 made against the Duke de Choiseul, and which we believe to be un- 
 founded ; but at the same time, he brings forward testimony in defence 
 of the memory of M. de Choiseul, which seems to us sufficiently pro- 
 tected by his character. The Duke de Choiseul disliked the dauphin; 
 he even defied him, which was wrong. His violent rage was undoubtedly 
 reprehensible, when he forgot himself so far as to say, " I may one day 
 be condemned to the misfortune of being your subject, but I will never 
 be your slave." But there is a wide interval between this audacious 
 fury of the moment, and the blackest of crimes : an interval which M. de 
 Choiseul was incapable of passing.
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 263 
 
 followed this accident: the prince began to spit blood. Hia 
 principal physician wished to have him bled; the consulting 
 physicians insisted on purgation, and their advice was followed. 
 The pleurisy being ill-cured, assumed and retained all the symp- 
 toms of consumption ; the dauphin languished from that period 
 until December, 1765, and died at Fontainebleau, where the 
 court, on account of his condition, had prolonged its stay, which 
 usually ended on the 2d of November. 
 
 The dauphiness, his widow, was excessively afflicted; but the 
 immoderate despair which characterized her grief, induced many 
 to suspect that the loss of the crown was an important part of 
 the calamity she lamented. She long refused to eat enough to 
 support life; she encouraged her tears to flow, by placing por- 
 traits of the dauphin in every retired part of her apartments. 
 She had him represented pale, and ready to expire, in a picture 
 placed at the foot of her bed, under draperies of gray cloth, with 
 which the chambers of the princesses were always hung in court 
 mournings. Their grand cabinet was hung with black cloth, 
 with an alcove, a canopy, and a throne, on which they received 
 compliments of condolence after the first period of the deep 
 mourning. The dauphiness, some months before the end of her 
 life, regretted her conduct in abridging it ; but it was too late ; 
 the fatal blow had been struck. It may also be presumed, that 
 living with a consumptive man had contributed to her complaint. 
 This princess had no opportunity of displaying her qualities ; 
 living in a court in which she was eclipsed by the King and 
 Queen, the only characteristics that could be remarked in her, 
 were her extreme attachment to her husband; and her great piety. 
 
 The dauphin was little known, and his character has been 
 much mistaken. He himself, as he confessed to his intimate 
 friends, sought to disguise it. He one day asked one of his 
 most familiar servants, " What do they say in Paris of that great 
 fool of a dauphin ?" The person interrogated seeming confused, 
 the dauphin urged him to express himself sincerely, saying, 
 " Speak freely : that is positively the idea which I wish people 
 to form of me."
 
 264 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 As he diod of a disease which allows the last moment to be 
 anticipated long beforehand, he wrote much, and transmitted 
 his affections and his prejudices to his son, by secret notes.* 
 This was really what prevented the Queen from recalling M. de 
 Choiseul at the death of Louis XV., and what promoted M. de 
 Muy, the intimate friend of the dauphin, to the place of minister 
 at war. The destruction of the Jesuits, effected by M. de Choiseul, 
 had given the dauphin's hatred of him that character of party spirit, 
 which induced him to transmit it to his son. Had he ascended the 
 throne, he would have supported the Jesuits and priests in gene- 
 ral, and kept down the philosophers. Maria Leckziuska, the 
 wife of Louis XV., placed her highest merit in abstaining from 
 public affairs, and in the strict observance of her religious duties; 
 never asking for anything for herself, and sending all she pos- 
 sessed to the poor. Such a life ought to secure a person against 
 all danger of poison, but has not preserved the memory of this 
 princess from that venom which Soulavie makes the Duke de 
 Choiseul deal around him indiscriminately. 
 
 ANECDOTES RELATIVE TO MARIA 
 LECKZINSKA.f 
 
 MARIA LECKZINSKA, wife of Louis XV. often spoke of the 
 situation, even below mediocrity, in which she stood at the time 
 when the policy of the court of Versailles caused the marriage 
 
 * The Historical Illustrations (letter X) contain some particulars of 
 the disposition and manners of Louis XVI. in his youth. 
 
 f " In some esteemed Memoirs of the Reign of Maria Leckzinska, it 
 is said, that she was to have been married to the Duke de Bourbon. I 
 know not whether this be certain : but I can affirm that she has often 
 conversed with Madame Campan, my mother-in-law, on the project of 
 her marriage with the Duke d'Estre'es." Note by Madame Campan.
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 266 
 
 of the King with the young infanta to be broken off, and raised 
 a Polish princess, daughter of a dethroned monarch, to the rank 
 of Queen of France. Before this unhoped-for event changed the 
 destiny of this virtuous princess, there had been some idea of 
 marrying her to the Duke d'Estre'es; and, when the duchess 
 of that name came to pay her court to her at Versailles, she said 
 to those who surrounded her, " I might have been in that lady's 
 place myself, and curtsying to the Queen of France." She 
 used to relate, that the King, her father, informed her of her 
 elevation in a manner which might have made too strong an 
 impression on her mind; that he had taken care, to avoid 
 disturbing her tranquillity, to leave her in total ignorance of the 
 first negotiations set on foot relative to her marriage ; and that 
 when all was definitively arranged, and the ambassador arrived, 
 her father went to her apartment, placed an arm-chair for her, 
 had her set in it, and addressed her thus : " Allow me, madame, 
 to enjoy a happiness which far overbalances all I have suffered; 
 I wish to be the first to pay my respects to the Queen of 
 France." 
 
 Maria Leckzinska was not handsome ; but she possessed much 
 intelligence, an expressive countenance, and a simplicity of 
 manners, set off by the gracefulness of the Polish ladies. She 
 loved the King, and found his first infidelities very grievous to 
 endure. Nevertheless, the death of Madame de Chateauroux, 
 whom she -had known very young, and who had even been 
 honoured by her kindness, made a painful impression on her. 
 This good Queen still suffered from the bad effects of an early 
 superstitious education. She was fearful of ghosts. The first 
 night after she heard of this almost sudden death, she could not 
 sleep, and made one of her women sit up, who endeavoured to 
 calm her restlessness, by telling her stories, which she would, in 
 such cases, call for, as children do with their nurses. This 
 night, nothing could overcome her wakefulness ; her femme de 
 chambre, thinking she was asleep, was leaving her bed on tip- 
 toe; the slightest noise on the floor roused the Queen, who 
 cried, "Whither are you going? Stay, go on with your story."
 
 266 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 As it was past two in the morning, this woman, whose name was 
 Boirot, and who was somewhat unceremonious, said, "What 
 can be the matter with your majesty to-night ? Are you feverish ? 
 Shall I call up the physician T' " Oh ! no, no, my good Boirot, 
 I am not ill ; but that poor Madame de Chateauroux, if she were 
 to come again I" "Jesus, madame," cried the woman, who had lost 
 all patience, " if Madame de Chateauroux should come again, it 
 certainly will not be your majesty that she will look for." The 
 Queen burst into a fit of laughter at this observation ; her agita- 
 tion subsided, and she soon fell asleep. 
 
 The nomination of Madame Le Normand d'Etioles, Marchio- 
 ness de Pompadour, to the place of lady of the bedchamber to 
 the Queen, offended the dignity, as well as the sensibility of this 
 princess. Nevertheless, the respectful homage paid by the 
 marchioness, the interest which certain great personages, who 
 were candidates for her favour, had in procuring her an indulgent 
 reception from her majesty, the respect of Maria Leckzinska for 
 all the King's wishes, all conspired to secure her the Queen's 
 favourable notice. Madame de Pompadour's brother received 
 letters of high birth from his majesty, and was appointed 
 superintendent of the buildings and gardens. He often presented 
 to her majesty, through the medium of his sister, the rarest 
 flowers, pine-apples, and early vegetables from the gardens of 
 Trianon and Choisy. One day, when the marchioness came in, 
 at the Queen's, carrying a large basket of flowers, which she 
 held in her two beautiful arms, without gloves, as a mark of 
 respect, the Queen loudly declared her admiration of her beauty; 
 and seemed as if she wished to defend the King's choice, by 
 praising her various charms in detail, in a manner that would 
 have been as suitable to a production of the fine arts as to a 
 living being. After applauding the complexion, eyes, and fine 
 arms of the favourite, with that haughty condescension which 
 renders approbation more offensive than flattering, the Queen, 
 at length, requested her to sing, in the attitude in which she 
 stood, being desirous of hearing the voice and musical talent by 
 which the King's court had been charmed in the performances
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 267 
 
 of the private apartments, and thus to combine the gratification 
 of the ears with that of the 'eyes. The marchioness, who still 
 held her enormous basket, was perfectly sensible of something 
 offensive in this request, and tried to excuse herself from sing- 
 ing. The Queen at last commanded her; she then exerted her 
 fine voice in the solo of Armida " At length lie is in my power." 
 The change in her majesty's countenance was so obvious, that 
 the ladies present at this scene had the greatest difficulty to 
 keep theirs. 
 
 The Queen received visitors with much grace and dignity ; 
 but it is very common with the great to reiterate the same ques- 
 tions ; a sterility of ideas is very excusable on public occasions, 
 when there is so little, to say. The lady of an ambassador, how- 
 ever, made her majesty feel that she did not choose to give way 
 to her forgetful ness in matters concerning herself. This lady 
 was pregnant, but nevertheless constantly appeared at the 
 Queen' P drawing-rooms, who never failed to ask her whether she 
 was iu the state alluded to, and on receiving an answer in the 
 affirmative, always inquired how many months of her time had 
 elapsed. At length the lady, weary of the eternal repetition of 
 the same question, and of the total forgetfulness which betrayed 
 the insincerity of the Queen in pretending to take interest in her 
 affairs, replied to the usual inquiry, "No, madame." This an- 
 swer instantly recalled to her majesty's recollection, those which 
 the lady had so often given before. " How, madame," said she, 
 " it appears to me that you have several times answered me that 
 you were so; have you been brought to bed?" "No, madame; 
 but I was apprehensive of fatiguing your majesty, by constantly 
 repeating the same thing." This lady was, from that day, very 
 coldly received by Maria Leckzinska, and had her majesty pos- 
 sessed more influence, the ambassador might have suffered for 
 his wife's indiscretion. The Queen was affable and modest ; but 
 the more thankful she was in her heart to heaven, for having 
 placed her on the first throne in Europe, the more unwilling she 
 was to be reminded of her elevation. This sentiment induced 
 
 VOL. i. 24
 
 268 EECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 her to insist on the observation of all the forms of respect due 
 to royal birth ; whereas in other princes, the consciousness of 
 that birth often induces them to disdain the ceremonies of eti- 
 quette, and to prefer habits of ease and simplicity. There was 
 a striking contrast in this respect, between Maria Leckzinska 
 and Marie Antoinette, as has been justly and generally thought. 
 The latter unfortunate Queen carried her disregard of everything 
 belonging to the strict forms of etiquette too fur.* One day, 
 
 * Marie Antoinette has been so often reproached for having derogated 
 from the strictness of old custom, that it is extremely necessary to 
 answer this accusation, once for all, by facts. No prince was evermore 
 jealously observant of the laws of etiquette than Louis XIV. ; in whose 
 latter years the prudery of Madame de Maintenon rather tended to 
 increase than to weaken this inclination. Let those, therefore, who 
 cannot excuse the slightest infraction of ceremony in Marie Antoinette, 
 compare her conduct with that of the Duchess of Burgundy. 
 
 "This princess," says the Duchess d'Orleans, in her Memoirs, "was 
 often entirely alone in her chateau, unattended by any of her people ; 
 she would take the arm of one of the young ladies, and walk out with- 
 out equerries, lady of honour, or tire-woman. At Marly and Versailles, 
 she went on foot without a corset ; would go into the church, and sit 
 down by the femmes de chambre. At Madame de Maintenon's, no 
 distinction of rank was observed, and the whole company seated them- 
 selves indiscriminately ; she contrived this purposely, that her own rank 
 might not be remarked. At Marly, the dauphiness walked in the garden 
 all night, with the young people, until three or four in the morning. 
 The King knew nothing of these nocturnal excursions." 
 
 Is not this clear and positive enough ? Whence then the blame so 
 unjustly thr wn on Marie Antoinette, whilst a profound silence is main- 
 tained respecting the imprudence, to say no worse, of the Duchess of 
 Burgundy ? It is because the excessive mildness 'of Louis XVI. encou- 
 raged audacity and calumny amongst the courtiers, whilst under Louis 
 XIV., on the contrary, the most prompt chastisement would have been 
 the lot of any daring individual who had ventured to point his malignant 
 slanders at a personage placed near the throne. The Duchess d'Orleans 
 makes this sufficiently evident. " Madame de Maintenon," she adds, 
 " had prohibited the Duchess du Lude from annoying the Duchess of 
 Burgundy, that she might not put her in an ill-humour ; because, when 
 out of temper, the dauphiness could not divert the King. She had 
 also threatened, with her eternal anger, whomsoever should dare to 
 accuse the dauphiness to his majesty." Note by the Editor.
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 269 
 
 when the Marechale de Mouchy was teasing her with questions 
 relative to the extent to which she would allow the ladies the 
 option of taking off or wearing their cloaks, and of pinning up 
 the lappets of their caps, or letting them hang down, the Queen 
 replied to her, in my presence : " Arrange all those matters, 
 madame, just as you please j but do not imagine that a Queen, 
 born Archduchess of Austria, can attach that importance to 
 them which might be felt by a Polish princess, who had 
 become Queen of France." 
 
 The Polish princess, in truth, never forgave the slightest 
 deviation from the respect due to her person, and to all 
 belonging to her. The Duchess of * * *, a lady of her bed- 
 chamber, who was of an imperious and irritable temper, 
 often drew upon herself such petty slights, as are constantly 
 shown towards haughty and ill-natured people, by the servants 
 of princes, when they can justify those affronts by the plea of 
 their duty, or of the customs of the court. Etiquette, or indeed 
 I might say, a sense of propriety, prohibited all persons from 
 laying things belonging to them on the seats of the Queen's 
 chamber. At Versailles, one had to cross this chamber to reach 
 the play-room. The Duchess de * * * laid her cloak on one 
 of the folding-stools, which stood before the balustrade of the 
 bed ; the usher of the chamber, whose duty it was to attend to 
 whatever occurred in this room, whilst they were at play, saw 
 this cloak, took it and carried it into the footman's antechamber. 
 The Queen had a large favourite cat, which was constantly run- 
 ning about the apartments. This satin cloak, lined with fur, 
 appeared very convenient to the cat, who took possession of it 
 accordingly. Unfortunately, he left very unpleasant marks of his 
 preference, which remained but too evident on the white satin 
 of the pelisse, in spite of all the pains that were taken to efface 
 them, before it was given to the duchess. She perceived them, 
 took the cloak in her hand, and returned in a violent passion to 
 the Queen's chamber, where her majesty remained surrounded 
 by almost all the court : " Only see, madame," said she, " the 
 impertinence of your people, who have thrown my pelisse on a
 
 270 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 bench in the antechamber, where your majesty's cat has served 
 it in this manner." The Queen, displeased at her complaints 
 and familiar expressions, said to her, with the coldest look 
 imaginable : " Know, madam, that it is you, not I, who keep 
 people; I have officers of my chamber, who have purchased the 
 honour of serving me, and are persons of good-breeding and 
 education ; they know the dignity which ought to belong to a 
 lady of the bedchamber; they are not ignorant that you, who 
 have been chosen from amongst the first ladies of the kingdom, 
 ought to be accompanied by a gentleman, or at least a valet de 
 chambre as his substitute, to receive your cloak; and that had 
 you observed the forms suitable to your rank, you would not 
 have been exposed to the mortification of seeing your things 
 thrown on the benches of the antechamber." 
 
 I have read in several works written on the life of Queen 
 Maria Leckzinska, that she possessed great talents. Her reli- 
 gious, noble, and resigned conduct, and the refinement and 
 judiciousness of her understanding, sufficiently prove that her 
 august father had promoted, with the most tender care, the 
 developement of all those excellent qualities, with which heaven 
 had endowed her. 
 
 The virtues and information of the great, are always evinced 
 by their conduct; their accomplishments, coming within the 
 scope of flattery, are never to be ascertained by any authentic 
 proofs, and those who have lived near them, may be excused 
 for some degree of scepticism, with regard to their attainments of 
 this kind. If they draw or paint, there is always an able artist 
 present, who, if he does not absolutely guide the pencil with his 
 own hand, directs it by his advice; he sets the palette, and 
 mixes the colours, on which the tones depend. If a princess 
 attempt a piece of embroidery in colours, of that description 
 which ranks amongst the productions of the arts, a skilful em- 
 broideress is employed to undo and repair whatever has been 
 spoilt, and to cover the neglected tints with new threads. If a 
 princess be a musician, there are no ears that will discover when
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 271 
 
 she is out of tune ; at least there is no tongue that will tell her 
 so. This imperfection in the accomplishments of the great, is 
 but a slight misfortune. It is sufficiently meritorious in them 
 to engage in such pursuits, even with indifferent success, because 
 this taste, and the protection it extends, produce abundance of 
 talent on every side. The Queen delighted in the art of paint- 
 ing, and imagined she herself could draw and paint; she had a 
 drawing-master, who passed all his time in her cabinet. She 
 undertook to paint four large Chinese pictures, with which she 
 wished to ornament her private drawing-room, which was richly 
 furnished with rare porcelain and the finest marbles. This 
 painter was intrusted with the landscape, and background of the 
 pictures ; he drew the figures with a pencil, the faces and arms 
 were also left by the Queen to his execution ; she reserved to 
 herself nothing but the draperies, and the least important acces- 
 sories. The Queen every morning filled up the outline marked 
 out for her, with a little red blue, or green colour, which the 
 master prepared on the palette, and even filled her pencil with, 
 constantly repeating, " Higher up, rnadarne lower down, madame 
 a little to the right more to the left." After an hour's 
 work, the time for hearing mass, or some other family or pious 
 duty, would interrupt her majesty; and the painter, putting the 
 shadows into the draperies she had painted, softening off the 
 colour, where she had laid too much, &c., finished the small 
 figures. -When, the work was completed, the private drawing- 
 room was decorated with her majesty's work : and the firm per- 
 suasion of this good Queen, that she had painted it herself, was 
 so entire, that she left this cabinet, with all its furniture and 
 paintings, to the Countess de Noailles, her lady of honour. She 
 added to the bequest, "The pictures in my cabinet being my 
 own work, I hope the Countess de Noailles will preserve them 
 for my sake." Madame de Noailles, afterwards Marechale de 
 Mouchy. had a new additional pavilion constructed in her hotel 
 in the faubourg St. Germain, in order to form a suitable recep- 
 tacle for the Queen's legacy ; and had the following inscription 
 24*
 
 272 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 placed over the door, in letters of gold : " The innocent false- 
 hood of a good princess." 
 
 The Queen had selected, as her intimate friends, the duke, 
 the duchess, and the worthy Cardinal de Luynes. She called 
 them her good folks : she often did the duchess the honour to 
 spend the evening and sup with her ; the president Henauft was 
 the charm of this pious and virtuous society. This magistrate 
 combined the weighty qualifications of his functions in society, 
 with the attainments of a man of letters, and the polish of a 
 courtier. The Queen one day surprised the duchess writing to 
 the president, who had just published his Chronological Abridg- 
 ment of the History of France ; she took the pen from Madame 
 de Luynes, and wrote at the bottom of the letter, this postscript : 
 " I think that M. de Renault, who says a great deal in few words, 
 cannot be very partial to the language of women, who use a vast 
 number of words to say very little." Instead of signing this, 
 she added, " Guess who." The president answered this anony- 
 mous epistle, by these ingenious lines :* 
 
 " This sentence, written by a heavenly hand, 
 
 Fills with perplexing doubts my conscious mind : 
 Presumptuous, if I dare to understand ; 
 Ungrateful, if I fail the truth to find." 
 
 One evening, the Queen having entered the cabinet of the 
 Duke de Luynes, took down several books successively, to read 
 the titles ; a translation of Oyid's Art of Love having fallen into 
 her hands, she replaced it hastily, exclaiming, " Oh, fie !" 
 " How, madame," said the president, " is that the way in which 
 your majesty treats the art of pleasing?" "No, Monsieur 
 Renault," answered the Queen, " I should esteem the art of 
 pleasing; it is the art of seducing, that I throw from me." 
 
 * Ces mots, traces par une main divine, 
 
 Ne peuvent me causer que trouble et qu'embatras : 
 C'est trop oser, si mon coeur les divine ; 
 C'est etre ingrat, s'il ne les divine pas.
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 273 
 
 Madame de Civrac, daughter of the Duke d'Aumont, lady of 
 honour to the princesses, belonged to this intimate circle of the 
 Queen's. Her virtues and amiable character procured her equal 
 esteem and affection in that connection, and in her family, from 
 which a premature death removed her. The president Henault 
 paid her a respectful homage, or rather, delighted in being the 
 medium of that which this distinguished circle eagerly rendered 
 to her talents, her virtues, and her sufferings. Some time before 
 the death of Madame de Civrac, she was ordered to try the mine- 
 ral waters ; she left Versailles much debilitated and in very bad 
 health. The wish to amuse her, during a journey which re- 
 moved her to a distance from all that was dear to her, inspired 
 the president with the idea of an entertainment, which was given 
 to her at every place she stopped to rest at. Her friends set out 
 before her, in order to be a few posts in advance, and prepare 
 their disguises. When she stopped at Bernis, the interesting 
 traveller found a group of lords dressed in the costume of ancient 
 French knights, accompanied by the best musicians of the 
 King's chapel. They sang Madame de Civrac some stanzas 
 composed by the president, the first of which began thus :* 
 
 Can nought your cruel flight impede ? 
 
 Must distant climes your charms adore? 
 Why thus to other conquests speed, 
 
 And leave our hearts, enslaved before ? 
 
 At Nemours, the same persons, dressed as village swains and 
 nymphs, presented her with a rural scene, in which they invited 
 her to enjoy the simple pleasures of the country. Elsewhere 
 they appeared as burgesses and their wives, with the bailly and 
 town clerk ; and these disguises, continually varied and enlivened 
 by the amiable ingenuity of the president, followed Madame de 
 Civrac as far as the watering-place to which she was going. I 
 
 * Quoi ! vous partez sans que rien vous arrete ! 
 Vous allez plaire en de nouveaux climats ! 
 Pourquoi voler de conquete en conquete ? 
 Nos coeurs soumis ne suffisent-ils pas ?
 
 274 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 have read this ingenious and affecting entertainment when I was 
 young ; I know not whether the manuscript has been preserved 
 by the heirs of the president Henault. The candour and reli- 
 gious simplicity of the good cardinal, formed a striking contrast 
 to the gallant and agreeable character of the president; and 
 people would sometimes divert themselves with his simplicity 
 without forgetting the respect due to him. One of these in- 
 stances, however, produced such happy results, as to justify the 
 good cardinal in a singular misapplication of his well-meant 
 piety. Unwilling to forget the homilies which he had composed 
 in his youth, and as jealous of his works as the archbishop of 
 Granada, who discharged Gil Bias, the cardinal used to rise at 
 five in the morning, every Sunday, during the residence of the 
 court at Fontainebleau (which town was in his diocese), and go 
 to officiate at the parish church ; where, mounting the pulpit, he 
 repeated one of his homilies, all of which had been composed to 
 exhort people of rank and fashion to return to the primitive 
 simplicity suitable to true Christians. A few hundred peasants 
 Bitting on their sabots, surrounded by the baskets in which they 
 had carried vegetables or fruit to market, listened to his emi- 
 nence without understanding a single word of what he was 
 saying to them. Some people belonging to the court, happening 
 to go to mass previously to setting out for Paris, heard his emi- 
 nence exclaiming, with truly pastoral vehemence, " My dear 
 brethren, why do you carry luxury even to the foot of the sanc- 
 tuary ? Wherefore are these velvet cushions, these bags covered 
 with laces and fringe, carried before you into the temple of the 
 Lord ? Abandon these sumptuous and magnificent customs, 
 which you ought to regard as a cumbrous appendage to your 
 rank, and to put away from you when you enter the presence of 
 your divine Saviour." The fashionable hearers of these homi- 
 lies, mentioned them at court; every one wished to hear them : 
 ladies of the highest rank would be awakened at break of day, 
 to hear the cardinal say mass ; and thus his eminence was 
 speedily surrounded by a congregation to which his homilies 
 were perfectly adapted.
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 275 
 
 Maria Leckzinska could never look with cordiality on the 
 Princess of Saxony, who married the dauphin; but the atten- 
 tion, respect, and cautious behaviour of the dauphiness, at length 
 made her majesty forget that the princess was daughter to a 
 King, who wore her father's crown. Nevertheless, when the 
 great entertain a deep resentment, some marks of it will occa- 
 sionally be observed by those who constantly surround them ; 
 and, although the Queen now saw in the Princess of Saxony, 
 only a wife beloved by her son, and the mother of the prince 
 destined to succeed to the throne ; she never could forget that 
 Augustus wore the crown of Stanislaus. One day, an officer of 
 her chamber having undertaken to ask a private audience of her 
 for the Saxon minister, and the Queen being unwilling to grant 
 it ; he persisted in his request, and ventured to add, that he 
 should not have ventured to ask this favour of the Queen, had 
 not the minister been the ambassador of a member of the 
 family. " Say of an enemy of the family/' replied the Queen, 
 angrily; "and let him come in." 
 
 The Queen was very partial to the Princess de Tallard, govern- 
 ess of the children of France. This lady, having attained an 
 advanced age, came to take leave of her majesty, and to acquaint 
 her with the resolution she had taken to quit the world, and to 
 place an interval between her life and dissolution. The Queen 
 expressed much regret, endeavoured to dissuade her from this 
 scheme, and, much affected at the thoughts of the sacrifice on 
 which the princess had determined, asked her whither she intended 
 to retire : " To the entresols of my hotel, madame," answered 
 Madame de Tallard. 
 
 Count Tesse", father of the last count of that name, who left 
 no children, was first equerry to Queen Maria Leckzinska. She 
 esteemed his virtues, but often diverted herself at the expense 
 of his simplicity. One day, when the conversation turned on 
 the noble military actions by which the French nobility was 
 distinguished, the Queen said to the count : " And your family,
 
 276 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, 
 
 M. de Tesse, has been famous, too, in the field." " Ah ! madame, 
 we have all been killed in our masters' service 1" " How 
 rejoiced I am," replied the Queen, " that you are left to tell me 
 of it." The son of this worthy M. dc Tesse" was married to 
 the amiable and highly-gifted daughter of the Duke d'Ayen, 
 afterwards Marshal de Noailles ; he was excessively fond of his 
 daughter-in-law, and never could speak of her without emotion. 
 The Queen, to please him, often talked to him about the young 
 countess ; and one day asked him, which of her good qualities 
 seemed to him most conspicuous. " Her gentleness, madame ; 
 her gentleness," said he, with tears in his eyes : " she is so 
 mild, so soft as soft as a good carriage." " Well," said her 
 majesty, " that's an excellent comparison for a first equerry." 
 
 In 1730, Queen Maria Leckzinska, going to mass, met old 
 Marshal Villars, leaning on a wooden crutch, not worth fifteen- 
 pence; she rallied him about it; and the marshal told her, that 
 he had used it ever since he had received a wound which obliged 
 him to add this article to the equipments of the army. Her 
 majesty smiling, said, she thought this crutch so unworthy of 
 him, that she hoped to induce him to give it up. On returning 
 home, she despatched M. Campan to Paris, with orders to pur- 
 chase at the celebrated Germain's, the handsomest cane, with a 
 gold enamelled crutch, that he could find, and carry it without 
 delay to Marshal Villars' hotel, and present it to him from her. 
 He was announced accordingly, and fulfilled his commission; 
 the marshal, in attending him to the door, requested him to 
 express his gratitude to the Queen, and said, that he had nothing 
 fit to ofler to an oflicer who had the honour to belong to her 
 majesty, but he begged him to accept of his old stick, and that 
 his grandchildren would probably some day be glad to possess 
 the cane with which he had commanded at Marchiennes and 
 Denain. The known character of Marshal Villars appears in 
 this anecdote ; but he was not mistaken with respect to the esti- 
 mation in which his stick would be held. It was thenceforth 
 kept with veneration by M. Campan's family. On the 10th of
 
 AND ANECDOTES. 277 
 
 August, 1792, a house which I occupied on the Carrousel, at 
 the entrance of the court of the Tuileries, was pillaged and 
 nearly burnt down j the cane of Marshal Villars was thrown into 
 the Carrousel, as of no value, and picked up by my servant. 
 Had its old master been living at that period, we should not have 
 witnessed such a deplorable day. 
 
 The Queen's father died in consequence of being severely 
 burnt by his fire-side. Like almost all_old men, he disliked 
 those attentions which imply the decay of the faculties, and had 
 ordered a valet de chambre, who wished to remain near him, to 
 withdraw into the adjoining room; a spark set fire to a taffety 
 dressing-gown, wadded with cotton, which his daughter had sent 
 him. The poor old prince, who entertained hopes of recovering 
 from the frightful state into which this accident reduced him, 
 wished to inform the Queen of it himself, and wrote her a letter 
 evincing the mild gayety of his disposition, as well as the cou- 
 rage of his soul, in which he said, " What consoles me is, the 
 reflection that I am burning for you." To the last moment of 
 her life, Maria Leckzinska never parted with this letter, and her 
 women often surprised her kissing a paper, which they conclu- 
 ded to be this last farewell of Stanislaus.* 
 
 * This anecdote does honour to the heart and filial piety of Maria 
 Leckzinska* That princess was equally gifted with wit and sensibility, 
 if we may judge by many expressions which fell from her lips in con- 
 versation, and have been collected by the Abbe Proyart. Many of 
 them are remarkable for the depth of thought they display, and fre- 
 quently for an ingenious and lively turn of expression. 
 
 "We should not be great, but for the little. We ought to be so only 
 for their good." (Page 240.) 
 
 " To be vain of one's rank, is to declare one's self beneath it." 
 (Ibid.) 
 
 "A King, who enforces respect to God, has no occasion to command 
 homage to be paid to himself." (Ibid.) 
 
 " The mercy of Kings is to do justice ; and the justice of Queens is to 
 exercise mercy." (241.) 
 
 " Good Kings are slaves, and their subjects are free." (Ibid.')
 
 278 RECOLLECTIONS, SKETCHES, &c. 
 
 " Content seldom travels with fortune, but follows virtue even in ad- 
 versity." (Ibid.) 
 
 " Solitude can be delightful only to the innocent." (Ibid.) 
 
 " To consider one's self great, on account of rank and -wealth, is to 
 imagine that the pedestal makes the hero." (Ibid.) 
 
 " Many princes, when dying, have lamented having made war : we 
 hear of none who at that moment have regretted having loved peace." 
 (Ibid.) 
 
 "Sensible people judge of a head by what it contains; frivolous 
 women by what is on the outside" of it." (245.) 
 
 Courtiers cry out to us, " Give us, without reckoning ! and the people, 
 Jieckon what we give you .'"
 
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 COLLECTED AND AEEANGED 
 
 BY MADAME CAMPAN. 
 
 Note No. 1. Page 111. 138. 
 THE QUEEN'S HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 First office : the Superintendent. 
 
 QUEEN MARIA. LECKZINSKA, the wife of Louis XVI., had Mademoiselle 
 de Clermont, a princess of the blood, as the superintendent of her house- 
 hold. Mademoiselle de Clermont died, and the Queen requested the" 
 King not to have the vacancy filled up, the privileges of the office of 
 superintendent being so extensive that they were felt as a restraint on 
 the sovereign ; they included a right to nominate to employments, to 
 determine differences between the holders of offices, to dismiss,* or 
 suspend the servants, &c. There was therefore no superintendent after 
 Mademoiselle de Clermont ; and Queen Marie Antoinette had none at 
 the time of her accession. But shortly afterwards the Queen, interest- 
 ing herself for the young Princess de Lamballe, who was left a widow 
 and childless, determined to give her greater personal consideration, by 
 fixing her at court, and therefore appointed her superintendent of her 
 household. She constantly resided at Versailles, in the commencement 
 of her service, and was very scrupulous in the punctual execution of 
 all the duties of her place. The Queen checked her a little with respect 
 to those which stood in the way of her inclinations, and the intimacy 
 between the Queen and Madame de Polignac being afterwards formed, 
 she attended the court with less assiduity. Her devoted attachment 
 led her, at the moment when all the eminent persons in the kingdom 
 were yielding to the system of emigration, to return to France, and not 
 to leave the Queen, who was then deprived of all her friends, and of that 
 intimate connection which had occasioned a kind of distance between 
 the Queen and the superintendent. The tragic end of this interesting 
 princess must heighten the feeling excited by her zeal and fidelity. The 
 princess superintendent was, moreover, head of the Queea's council ; 
 but her functions in that capacity could only become important in case 
 of a regency. 
 
 * The servants were suspended by order of the head of the household for a fort- 
 night, a month, or more. Dismission was more common than suspension; but re- 
 signations were signed by the parties themselves. It must not be forgotten that all 
 the offices were trusts, and that the holders of them had been sworn before th 
 Queen, the superintendent, the lady of honour, or the first gentleman usher. 
 
 VOL. I. 25 (279)
 
 280 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Lady nf honour, the Princess de Chimay. 
 
 The place of lady of honour losing many of its advantages, in con- 
 sequence of the appointment of a superintendent, Madame la Marechale 
 de Mouchy gave in her resignation. When the Queen conferred that 
 title upon the Princess de Lainballe, the lady of honour appointed to 
 the offices, administered the oaths in the absence of the superintendent ; 
 made presentations, and sent invitations in the Queen's name for the 
 excursions to Marly, Choisy, and the Fontainebleau ; for balls, suppers, 
 and hunting parties ; all changes in the furniture, and the linen and 
 the laces for the bed and toilette, were likewise made under her orders. 
 The head woman of the Queen's wardrobe managed these matters jointly 
 with the lady of honour. Up to the time when M. de Silhouette was 
 appointed comptroller-general, cloths, napkins, chemises, and lace, had 
 been renewed every three years ; that minister prevailed on Louis XV. 
 to decide that they should be renewed only once in five years. M. 
 Necker, during his fiist administration, increased the interval of re- 
 newal by two years, so that it took place only every seven years. The 
 whole of the old articles belonged to the lady of honour. When a for- 
 eign princess was married to the heir presumptive, or % son of France, 
 :t was the etiquette to go and meet her with her wedding clothes ; the 
 young princess was undressed in the pavilion usually built upon the 
 frontiers for the occasion, and every article of her apparel, without 
 exception, was changed; notwithstanding which, the foreign courts 
 furnished their princesses also with rich wedding clothes, which were 
 considered the lawful perquisites of the lady of honour and the tire- 
 woman. It is to be observed, that emoluments and profits of all kinds 
 generally belonged to the great offices. On the death of Maria Leck- 
 zinska, the whole of her chamber furniture was given up to the Countess 
 de Noailles, afterwards Marechale de Mouehy, with the exception of two 
 large rock crystal lustres which Louis XV. ordered should be preserved 
 as appurtenances to the crown. The tire-woman was intrusted with 
 the care of ordering materials, robes, and court dresses ; and of check- 
 ing, and paying bills ; all accounts were submitted to her and were paid 
 only on her signature and by her order ; from shoes, up to Lyons em- 
 broidered dresses. I believe the fixed annual sum for this division of 
 expenditure, was one hundred thousand francs ; but there might be 
 additional sums when the funds appropriated to this purpose were in- 
 sufficient. The tire-woman sold the cast-off gowns and ornaments for 
 her own benefit ; the lace for head-dresses, ruffles, and gowns, was pro- 
 vided by her, and kept distinct from those of which the lady of honour 
 had the direction. There was a secretary of the wardrobe, to whom 
 the care of keeping the books, accounts of payments, and correspon- 
 dence relating to this department was confided. 
 
 The tire-woman had, likewise, under her order a principal under- 
 tire-woman, charged with the care and preservation of all the Queen's 
 dresses ; two women to fold and press such articles as required it ; two 
 valets, and one porter of the wardrobe. The latter brought every 
 morning into the Queen's apartments, baskets covered with taffety, con- 
 taining all that she was to wear during the day, and large cloths of 
 green taffety covering the robes, and the full dresses. The valet of the 
 wardrobes on duty presented every morning a large book to the first 
 femme de chambre, containing patterns of the gowns, full dresses, un- 
 dresses, &c. Every pattern was marked to show to which sort it be-
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 281 
 
 longed. The first femme de chambre presented this book to the Queen, 
 on her awaking, with a pincushion; her majesty stuck pins in those 
 articles which she chose for the day : one for the dress, one for the 
 afternoon undress, and one for the full evening dress for card or sup- 
 per parties, in the private apartments. The book was then taken back 
 to the wardrobe, and all that was wanted for the day was soon after 
 brought in, in large taffety wrappers. The wardrobe woman, who had 
 the care of the linen, in her turn, brought in a covered basket contain- 
 ing two or three chemises, handkerchiefs, and napkins ; the morning 
 basket was called prct dujour: in the evening she brought in one con- 
 taining the night-gown, and night-cap, and the stockings for the next 
 Kjorning; this basket was called pret delanuit: they were in the de- 
 partment of the lady of honour, the tire-woman having nothing to do 
 with the linen. Nothing was put in order or taken care of by the 
 Queen's women. As soon as the toilet was over, the valets and porter 
 belonging to the wardrobe were called in, and they carried all away in 
 a heap, in the taffety wrappers, to the tire-woman's wardrobe, where 
 all were folded up again, hung up, examined, and cleaned with so much 
 regularity and care that even the cast-off clothes scarcely looked as if 
 they had been worn. The tire-woman's wardrobe consisted of three 
 large rooms surrounded with closets, some furnished with drawers and 
 others with shelves ; there were also large tables in each of these rooms, 
 on which the gowns and dresses were spread out and folded up. 
 
 For the winter the Queen had generally twelve full dresses, twelve 
 undresses called fancy dresses, and twelve rich hoop petticoats for the 
 card and supper parties in the smaller apartments. 
 
 She had as many for the summer. Those for the spring served like- 
 wise for the autumn. All these dresses were discarded at the end of 
 each season, unless indeed that she retained some that she particularly 
 liked. I am not speaking of muslin or cambric muslin gowns, or others 
 of the same kind ; they were lately introduced ; but such as these were 
 not renewed at each returning season, they were kept several years. 
 The chief women were charged with the keeping, care, and examina- 
 tion of the diamonds. This important duty was formerly confided to 
 the tire-woman, but for many years had been included in the business 
 of the first femmes de chambre. 
 
 The Queen's bedchamber. 
 
 There was formerly but one first femme de chambre. The large in- 
 come derived from the place, and the favour by which it was generally 
 accompanied, rendered a division of it necessary. 
 
 The Queen had two, and two reversioners : 
 
 The incumbents were Madame de Misery, a daughter of the Count de 
 Chemant, and, by the side of her mother, who descended from a Mont- 
 morency, cousin to the Prince de Tingry, who always called her cousin, 
 even before the Queen. 
 
 Madame Thibault, formerly femme de chambre of Queen Maria 
 Leckzinska. 
 
 The reversioners were Madame Campan, and Madame Regnier de 
 Jarjaye, whose husband was a staff officer with the rank of colonel. 
 
 The duty of the chief femmes de chambre was to attend to the per- 
 formance of the wholft service of the bedchamber ; to receive the Queen's 
 orders for her times of rising, dressing, going out, and making journeys.
 
 282 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 They were moreover charged with the Queen's privy purse, and the pay- 
 ment of pensions and gratifications. The diamonds, too, were intrusted 
 to them. They did the honours of the service when the ladies of hon- 
 our, or tire-women, were absent, and in the same manner acted for them 
 in making presentations to the Queen. Their appointments did not ex- 
 ceed twelve thousand francs ; but all the wax candles of the bedcham- 
 ber, closets, and card room, belonged to them daily, whether lighted 
 or not, and this perquisite raised their income to more than fifty thou- 
 sand francs each. The candles for the great closet of the saloon of the 
 nobility, the room preceding the Queen's chamber, and those for the 
 antechambers and corridors, belonged to the servants of the chamber. 
 The undress gowns were, whenever left off, carried, by order of the 
 tire-woman, to the chief femmes de chambre. The court and full 
 dresses, with all other accessories of the Queen's toilet, belonged to 
 the tire-woman herself. 
 
 The Queens were very circumspect in the choice of their principal 
 women ; they generally took care to select them from among the twelve 
 ordinary women whom they knew well, in order to keep this confidential 
 situation exempt from the intrigues of the court and capital. Queen 
 Marie Antoinette, who knew Madame Campan when she was reader to 
 the daughters of Louis XV., and wished to have her as first woman, 
 made her a promise of that place ; but for several years she filled the 
 situation of ordinary woman. A lady of noble family, much beloved 
 by the Queen, who distinguished her, upon her arrival in France, from 
 among her women, and who flattered herself with the hopes of becom- 
 ing first woman, was disappointed of the place, in consequence of her 
 imprudence in taking advantage of the kindness of the young dauphi- 
 ness, who twice paid her debts, at the time she was expecting to be 
 appointed first woman. The dauphiness, when she became Queen, as- 
 signed as the reason for her refusal, that it was very imprudent to trust 
 money to persons known to be extravagant and thoughtless, as it exposed 
 the honour of families, as well as the deposit, to danger. The Queen, 
 however, softened down her refusal, by placing the lady's children at 
 St. Cyr, and the military school, and granting them pensions. At the 
 period of the Constitution, when it was proposed to reform the house- 
 hold, by abolishing the titles of ladies of honour and gentlemen ushers, 
 and the King determined to introduce the strictest economy into all 
 parts of his own expenses and those of the Queen, it was decided that 
 the daily renewal of the wax candles should be discontinued. The office 
 of first woman was, by this reduction, deprived of its greatest revenue. 
 The King, after consulting with M. de Laporte, fixed the income of the 
 first women at twenty-four thousand livres each, with the addition of 
 the functions and perquisites of the tire-women, whose office was sup- 
 pressed. He observed, at the same time, that the first women ought to 
 be selected from among persons of merit and good birth, and that their 
 income ought to be sufficient to place them above intrigue or corruption. 
 The plan of the household formed after the constitutional laws, was de 
 creed, but the military part was the only one put in execution. 
 
 The Queen had twelve women in ordinary : 
 
 Madame de Malherbe, the wife of the Queen's maitre d'hotel, latt 
 commissary at war ; she died since the revolution. 
 
 Madame de Fregal, daughter of M. Emengard de Beauval, mayor of 
 Compiegne, and lieutenant of the hunt, wife of a cavalry captain ; sh< 
 is living at her own estate in Picardy, upon her property.
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 1>8:J 
 
 Madame Regnier de Jarjaye (first woman in reversion). Her hus- 
 band has left the service. They are living at Paris in easy circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Madame Campan, also first woman in reversion, and reader to the 
 princesses, daughters of Louis XV., had long discharged the duties of 
 first woman only, Madame de Misery, her principal, having retired to 
 her estate of Biache, near Peronne. 
 
 Madame Auguie, who fell a victim to the revolution, for lending the 
 Queen twenty-five louis during the two days she passed at the Feuillans. 
 M. Auguie was at that time receiver-general of the finances of the 
 duchy of Lorraine and Bar, and commissioner of the subsistence tax. 
 
 Madame Terasse des Mareilles. Her husband has a place -under 
 government. Her daughter married the brother of M. Miot, a coun- 
 sellor of state. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Marolles, one of the ladies of St. Cyr. She remains 
 poor, and has retired to her own country, in the neighbourhood of 
 Tours. 
 
 Madame Cardon, widow of the Mayor of Arras, has some fortune, 
 and lives upon her estate. 
 
 Madame Arcambal. Her husband and father-in-law are in the war 
 department. 
 
 Madame de Gougenot. Her husband, a gentleman and very rich, 
 receiver-general of taxes, and the King's maitre d'hotel, died a victim 
 to the revolution. She lives at Paris in retirement and affluence. She 
 would haA'e been extremely rich if she had had any children. 
 
 Madame de Beauvast, wife of a commissary at war, formerly one of 
 the King's musketeers, and a Chevalier de St. Louis ; is very poor. 
 
 Madame Le Vacher, dead. Her husband is at present receiver of 
 the tolls at Marseilles. 
 
 Madame Henri. Her husband is now in the war office. Her father 
 had a principal charge in the liquidation of the civil list. They have 
 a number of children. 
 
 The eight senior women of the Queen had incomes of three thousand 
 six hundred francs. 
 
 The other four had two thousand four hundred livres. 
 
 They had three hundred livres less when they had lodgings in the 
 castle of Versailles, or apartments assigned them. When the King 
 went to Compiegne in July, and Fontainebleau in October, three hun- 
 dred livres a journey were added to their appointments, to defray the 
 expenses of moving. It must be observed that these journeys, even if 
 economically performed, cost from a thousand to twelve hundred 
 livres. But the husbands of these ladies had all honourable and lucra- 
 tive situations, and the appointments of places of this description were 
 not at all thought of! the support and protection of the Queen were 
 the only things that made them canvassed for. I remember, when the 
 poorest among them had an income of from fifteen to twenty thousand 
 francs ; and some of them, from their husbands' circumstances, had 
 from sixty to eighty thousand francs a year : but these fortunes came 
 from financial employments, *br places of hereditary property, and 
 were no way drawn from the royal treasury, the pensions granted 
 being few and inconsiderable. 
 
 There was no pension granted to the first women; when they retired, 
 they retained the whole emoluments of their places, which was too 
 
 25*
 
 284 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 considerable to admit of their being indemnified for it. Those -who 
 had the places in reversion acted for them, and received a salary of 
 six thousand livres. 
 
 The femmes de chambre in ordinary were allowed four thousand 
 livres pension, after a series of thirty years ; three thousand, after one 
 of twenty-five years ; and two thousand, after one of twenty years. 
 
 The twelve women served 'in turns, four every week; two of these 
 every day alternatively ; so that the four women who had served one 
 week were the next fortnight at leisure, unless a substitute were 
 wanted ; and in the week of duty they had intervals of two or three 
 days. There was no table appointed for the female service, except 
 when the court left Versailles. The first women had their kitchen and 
 cook. The others had their dinners taken to them in their apartment. 
 
 Wardrobe woman, the person named R . 
 
 This woman was intpusted with all matters relating to her place, but 
 as her service lasted all the year round, she was very useful in several 
 particulars of internal domestic service, which would have been other- 
 wise but ill performed by women of the class of those who served the 
 Queen. Her utility, and the kindness of her mistress, had unfortu- 
 nately made her services but too indispensable. Some particulars 
 relative to the departure for Varennes could not be concealed from 
 her ; and it appears clear that she betrayed the Queen's secret to some 
 of the deputies or members of the commune of Paris. She was under 
 the immediate orders of the first femme de chambre, who frequently, 
 in case of a vacancy, prociired the place for her own femme de cham- 
 bre. When the Queen, on her return from Varennes, dismissed this 
 
 woman R , she put the governess of Madame Campan's son in her 
 
 place. 
 
 There were also two bathing-women, charged with all that belonged 
 to the baths, who made it their peculiar care. The flowers, vases, 
 porcelain, and all the ornaments of the apartment, were arranged 
 every morning by a wardrobe woman, who had no other business. 
 
 Master of the wardrobe. 
 
 This office, important as it may be about a prince, was but a mere 
 name about a princess ; the tire-woman being charged with all tiuit 
 related to his department, and having under her orders a secretary of 
 the wardrobe for correspondence and payment of demands. The 
 income of the master of the wardrobe was, notwithstanding, sixty 
 thousand Trancs. The office was held by the Count de la Mortiere, who 
 died a general some years ago, and in reversion by M. Ponjaud, far- 
 mer-general. Its only prerogative was the right of entrance into the 
 chamber. 
 
 First valet de chambre. 
 
 The functions of the first femme de chambre had in the same manner 
 reduced this office to the mere title, and a right of entrance to the 
 toilette. The salary was forty thousand francs. 
 
 Train bearer in ordinary. 
 
 This office had daily and assiduous duties attached to it. To hold 
 it, it was necessary to be either noble, the son of an ennobled person,
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 285 
 
 or decorated with the cross of St. Louis ; the first gentleman usher, 
 being obliged to receive him into his carriage when attending the court 
 en suite, would not otherwise have consented to sit with him. This 
 officer suffered a continual mortification, being obliged by etiquette to 
 give up the Queen's train to her page whenever her majesty entered 
 the chapel or the inner apartments of the King; so that after having 
 borne the train in the great apartment, and the mirror gallery, he 
 gave it up to the page at the entrance to the chapel and the King's apart- 
 ment. He kept the Queen's mantle or pelisse, but handed them to the 
 first gentleman usher or the first equerry if the Queen wished to make 
 use of them. This practice was called doing the honours of the service, 
 and was always observed by the inferior officer to the superior. 
 
 Secretaries for orders : Messieurs Augeard and Beaugcard. 
 
 The business of these officers was to get orders for the payment of 
 her household signed by the Queen ; which she did punctually every 
 three months at her dressing hour. 
 
 These secretaries were also to answer letters of etiquette, such as 
 those from sovereigns upon births, deaths, &c. The Queen merely 
 signed letters of this nature. 
 
 The private secretary of the secretaries for orders took every Sun- 
 day, from a table in the Queen's room, the whole of the memorials 
 which had been presented to her in the course of the week. He made 
 an abstract of them, and they were sent to the different ministers. 
 Generally, the solicitors got very little by them, unless in some extra- 
 ordinary cases of hardship ; but they were, at all events, sure that the 
 original certificates, and family documents, which are often impru- 
 dently annexed to memorials and petitions, would be faithfully re- 
 turned. The Queen took into her private closet, all those memorials 
 to which she intended to add postscripts, or which she wished to give 
 to the ministers herself. 
 
 Superintendent of finances, demesnes, and affairs M. Bertier, intcn- 
 
 danl of Paris. 
 This office was almost entirely a sinecure. 
 
 Intendant of the household and finances, M. Gabriel de Saint Charles, 
 A sinecure. 
 
 Reader, the Abbe de Vermond. 
 
 This modest title gives a very inadequate idea of the office and power 
 of the man. Having been the Queen's tutor before her marriage, he 
 retained an absolute power over her mind. He was her private secre- 
 tary, confidant, and (unfortunately) her adviser. 
 
 Readers : the Countess de Neuilly; Madame de La Borde, in reversion. 
 
 A few years ago this lady married M. de Rohan Chabot ; her first 
 husband fell a victim to the revolution. He was first valet de chambre 
 to Louis XV., and brother of the Countess d'Angiviller. 
 
 The office of female reader was a sinecure under the reign of Marie 
 Antoinette, the Abbe de Vermond objecting to the female readers 
 having the advantage of reading to the Queen. He did not, however,
 
 286 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 object to the women, or first women, officiating for her. Madame 
 Campan generally had that honour. 
 
 Secretary of the Closet, M. Campan. 
 
 He was intrusted with every part of the correspondence which did 
 not belong to the secretaries for orders, or the Abbe de Vermond. He 
 enjoyed the confidence of his mistress, and succeeded the Abb6 de Ver- 
 mond, who emigrated on the 17th of July, 1789, until his death in 
 September, 1701. The Queen could not refrain from tears at his 
 death, which was occasioned by the grief experienced by that faithful 
 servant during the sanguinary scenes of the revolution. His blood 
 underwent a complete revulsion in the night between the 5th and 6th 
 of October, at Versailles, and the first symptoms of a dropsy in the 
 chest showed themselves the very next day. 
 
 ft* Oampan was, besides, librarian to the Queen from the time of 
 hsr arrival in France, though she suffered M. Moreau, historiographer 
 of France, to retain the title. She came from Versailles strongly pre- 
 possessed against that literary man, whose political character had, in 
 truth, suffered during the parliamentary troubles towards the close of 
 the reign of Louis XV. She caused it to be intimated to him, that she 
 wished him to give up the keys of her library to M. Campan, but 
 that, out of respect to the King's appointment, she left him his title 
 and the salary of his office. 
 
 It is to be presumed, that the Abbe" de Vermond, while fulfilling his 
 duties of tutor at Vienna, was startled at the appointment of a literary 
 character to the situation of librarian to the young dauphiness, the 
 more especially as M. Moreau, elated with his new honour, had 
 printed a work, entitled "Library of Madame the Dauphiness," in 
 which he traced out a course of history and general study for the 
 princess. The Abb6 de Vermond, determined to have the sole charge 
 of duties of that kind, planned his fall so skilfully, long beforehand, 
 that it took place on his very first step. M. Moreau died lately, at an 
 advanced age, at his estate of Chambourcy, near Saint Germain. His 
 disgrace, at which he was greatly hurt, probably preserved his life and 
 fortune. 
 
 The Queen had 
 
 Two valets de chambre, in ordinary. 
 
 An usher in ordinary. 
 
 (The duty of the offices, denominated ordinary, was to act as substi- 
 tutes for those who could not perform their quarterly service.) 
 
 Four ushers for the chamber, serving by the quarter ; 
 
 Two ushers of the closet ; 
 
 Two ushers of the antechamber ; 
 
 Eight valets de chambre, per quarter ; 
 
 Six servants of the chamber, or rather, we may say (in order to con- 
 yey a more accurate idea of this office), valets de chambre of the sleeping 
 room. These six places about the King and Queen, were greatly pre- 
 ferred to those of valet de chambre, because they were much more in 
 the inner apartments. Those of the King were raised gradually to eight 
 thousand francs. 
 
 An ordinary valet of the wardrobe. 
 
 Two valets of the wardrobe, each serving six months. 
 
 A porter of the wardrobe, who carried the taffety wrappers, cloths, 
 and baskets, from the chamber to the tiring wardrobe.
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 287 
 
 An ordinary keeper of the wardrobe of the chamber, M. Bonnefri 
 dn Plan. 
 
 He was also house steward of Petit Trianon. It was he who designed 
 and executed the press, or rather the kind of secretary, appropriated 
 to the Queen's jewels, and which is at this moment at Saint Cloud. His 
 name and the year in which that piece of furniture, remarkable for its 
 richness and the paintings with which it is ornamented, was made, are 
 engraved upon a plate of copper, which is at the bottom of it. Boulard, 
 an eminent upholsterer of Paris, was long a servant of the wardrobe 
 under the orders of Bonnefri. 
 
 Four valets de chambre upholsterers. 
 
 They came to make the bed in the morning, and turn it down in the 
 evening. 
 
 The Queen had two hairdressers attached to her person. They were 
 the brother and cousin of Leonard, the celebrated hairdresser. The 
 latter also held a place as hairdresser, but did not quit Paris, and came 
 only on Sundays at noon to the Queen's toilet. He also came to Ver- 
 sailles on holidays and at balls. He is now at Petersburg. 
 
 His brother was guillotined at Paris ; his cousin died in emigration. 
 They were very good and faithful servants. 
 
 Medical Department. 
 
 A chief physician : M. Vicq d'Azyr, after the death of M. de Las- 
 sone ; 
 
 A physician in ordinary : M. de Lassone, the son ; 
 
 A chief surgeon : M. de Chairgnac ; 
 
 A surgeon in ordinary officiating for the household ; 
 
 Two common surgeons to attend to the livery servants, kitchen ser- 
 vants, and stable servants; * 
 
 A body apothecary ; 
 
 .A common apothecary; 
 
 A well furnished dispensary, from which the inferior servants re- 
 ceived the necessary drugs and remedies. All above the class of foot- 
 men, or kitchen servants, thought it beneath them to avail themselves 
 of this right, but they had liberty to do so. 
 
 Officers of the mouth. 
 
 A chief maitre d'hotel : the Marquis de Talaru ; 
 
 A maitre d'hotel, in ordinary : M. Chalut de Verin ; M. de Guimps, in 
 reversion. 
 
 Messieurs Dufour and Campan the son, in reversion ; 
 
 Cosson de Guimps ; 
 
 De Malherbe, in reversion ; 
 
 Despriez, Moreau d'Olibois, in reversion ; 
 
 Clement de Ris. 
 
 These places required nobility. The maitres d'hotel officiated for 
 the gentlemen ushers in case the Queen should happen to want them 
 when going in grand procession. Quarterly at Versailles, as well as on 
 journeys, they did the honours of a table to which were admitted the 
 lieutenant and exempt of the guards upon duty, the gentleman usher 
 in ordinary, as well as the one for the quarter, and the Queen's 
 almoner.
 
 288 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The Queen had, 
 
 One gentleman serving in ordinary ; 
 
 Twelve gentlemen serving by the quarter ; 
 
 Their duty was to serve up at the dinners of the King and Queen, 
 and at the grand convert. Notwithstanding the title gentleman, this 
 place did not require nobility. 
 
 A comptroller-general of the Queen's household, M. Mercier de la 
 
 Source. 
 
 This officer inspected and regulated all the expenses of the mouth, 
 being a kind of medium between the Queen's household and the royal 
 treasury ; he had power, upon the Queen's mere demand, in case of 
 extraordinary expense, to draw for additional supplies ; the Queen 
 availed herself of this privilege but very seldom, and then only for 
 things relative to the arts which she patronized. It was accordingly 
 M. de la Source who fixed the sum granted for the quarto edition of 
 Metastasio : a tribute which the Queen thought due from her to that 
 celebrated author, her old Italian master at the court of Vienna. 
 
 Four comptrollers of the mouth serving by the quarter. 
 
 A comptroller in ordinary, specially charged with the Queen's table. 
 
 Stables. 
 
 Chief equerry, the Count de Tess4. 
 The Duke de Polignac, in reversion. 
 Processional equerry, M. de Salvost. 
 Governor of the pages, M. de Perdreauville. 
 A preceptor ; 
 An almoner ; 
 
 And all the masters employed in the education of the King's pages. 
 Twelve pages. v 
 
 Chevalier d'honneur, the Count de Saulx Tavarmes. 
 An equerry in ordinary, M. Petit de Vievigne. Quarterly equerries ; 
 Messieurs de Wallans ; 
 
 de Billey ; 
 
 Chevalier de Vaussay de Beauregard ; 
 
 Count de Saint Angel. 
 
 Chapel. 
 
 A grand almoner, the Bishop Duke de Laon. 
 
 A first almoner, the Bishop de Meaux. 
 
 Almoner in ordinary, the Abbe" de Beaufoil de Saint Aulaire. 
 
 Confessor, the Abbi Poupast. 
 
 Four quarterly almoners. 
 
 An almoner in ordinary. 
 
 Four quarterly chaplains. 
 
 A chaplain in ordinary. 
 
 Chapel boys. 
 
 Four quarterly chapel boys. 
 
 A chapel boy in ordinary. 
 
 Two chapel summoners. 
 
 There were besides a great number of offices, especially for the mouth, 
 such as esquire of the mouth, chief butler, head of the butlery officers, 
 &c. But they had no opportunity of serving directly about the Queen.
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 289 
 
 The Queen had twelve footmen. 
 
 The Versailles almanac, and old catalogues, enumerate all the infe- 
 rior offices. 
 
 Note No. 2, Page 167. 
 PARTICULARS OF ETIQUETTE. 
 
 The Queen's manner of living and the Arrangement of her Time. 
 
 When the King slept in the Queen's apartment, he always rose before 
 her ; the exact hour was communicated to the head femme de chambre, 
 who entered, preceded by a servant of the bedchamber bearing a taper ; 
 she crossed the room and unbolted the door which separated the Queen's 
 apartment from that of the King. She there found the first valet de 
 chambre for the quarter, and a servant of the chamber. They Gnter- 
 ed, opened the bed curtains on the King's side, and presented him slip- 
 pers generally, as well as the dressing-gown, which he put on, of gold 
 or silver stuif. The first valet de chambre took down a short sword, 
 which was always laid within the railing on the King's side. When 
 the King slept with the Queen, this sword was brought upon the arm- 
 chair appropriated to the King, and which was placed near the Queen's 
 bed, within the gilt railing which surrounded the bed. The first femme 
 de chambre conducted the King to the door, bolted it again, and leav- 
 ing the Queen's chamber, did not return until the hour appointed by 
 her majesty the evening before. At night the Queen went to bed before 
 the King; the first femme de chambre remained seated at the foot of 
 her bed until the arrival of his majesty, in order, as in the morning, to 
 see the King's attendants out, and bolt the door after them. The Queen 
 awoke habitually at eight o'clock, and breakfasted at nine, frequently 
 in bed, and sometimes after she had risen, at a small table placed op- 
 posite her couch. 
 
 In order to describe the Queen's' "private service intelligibly, it must 
 be recollected that service of every kind was honour, and had not any 
 other denomination. To do the honours of the service, was to present the 
 service to an officer of superior rank, who happened to arrive at the 
 moment it was about to be performed : thus, supposing the Queen asked 
 for a glass of water, the servant of the chamber handed to the first 
 woman a silver gilt waiter, upon which were placed a covered goblet 
 and a small decanter; but should the lady of honour come in, the first 
 woman was obliged to present the waiter to her, and if Madame or the 
 Countess d'Artois came in at the moment, the waiter went again from 
 the lady of honour into the hands of the princess, before it reached the 
 Queen. It must be observed, however, that if a princess of the blood, 
 instead of a princess of the family, entered, the service went directly 
 from the first woman to the princess of the blood, the lady of honour 
 being excused from transferring to any but princesses of the royal fa- 
 mily. Nothing was presented directly to the Queen ; her handkerchief 
 or her gloves were placed upon a long salver of gold or silver gilt, which 
 was placed as a piece of furniture of ceremony upon a side table, and 
 was called ganliere. The first woman presented to her in this manner 
 all that she asked for, unless the tire-woman, the lady of honour, or a 
 princess, were present, and then the gradation, pointed out in the in- 
 stance of the glass of water, was always observed. 
 
 Whether the Queen breakfasted in bed or up, those entitled to the 
 pelites entrees were equally admitted ; this privilege belonged of right to
 
 290 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 her chief physician, chief surgeon, physician in ordinary, reader, closet 
 secretary, the King's four first valets de chambre and their reversioners, 
 and the King's chief physicians and surgeons. There were frequently 
 from ten to twelve persons at this first entree. The lady of honour, or 
 the superintendent, if present, placed the breakfast equipage upon the 
 bed ; the Princess de Lamballe. frequently performed that office. 
 
 As soon as the Queen rose, the wardrobe woman was admitted to take 
 away the pillows and put the bed into a fit state to be made by some 
 of the valets de chambre. She undrew the curtains, and the bed was 
 not generally made until the Queen was gone to mass. .Generally, ex- 
 cepting at Saint Cloud, where the Queen bathed in an apartment beloAV 
 her own, a slipper bath was rolled into her room, and her bathers 
 brought everything that was necessary for the bath. The Queen bathed 
 in a large chemise of English flannel buttoned down to the bottom ; its 
 sleeves throughout, as well as the collar, were lined with linen. When 
 she came out of the bath, the first woman held up a cloth to conceal her 
 entirely from the sight of her women, and then threw it over her shoul- 
 ders. The bathers wrapped her in it, and dried her completely ; she 
 then put on a long and wide open chemise, entirely trimmed with lace, 
 and afterwards a white taffety bedgown. The wardrobe woman warm- 
 ed the bed ; the slippers were of dimity, trimmed with lace. Thus 
 dressed, the Queen went to bed again, and the bathers and servants of 
 the chamber took away the bathing apparatus. The Queen, replaced 
 in bed, took a book or her tapestry work. On her bathing mornings 
 she breakfasted in the bath. The tray was placed on the cover of the 
 bath. These minute details are given here only to do justice to the 
 Queen's scrupulous modesty. Her temperance was equally remarka- 
 ble ; she breakfasted on coffee or chocolate ; at dinner ate nothing but 
 white meat, drank water only, and supped on broth, a wing of a fowl, 
 and small biscuits, which she soaked in a glass of water. 
 
 The public toilet took place at noon. The toilet table was drawn for- 
 ward into the middle of the room. This piece of furniture was gene- 
 rally the richest and most ornamented of all in the apartment of the 
 princesses. The Queen used it in the same manner and place for un- 
 dressing herself in the evening. She went to bed laced in corsets 
 trimmed with ribbon, and sleeves trimmed with lace, and wore a large 
 neck handkerchief. The Queen's combing cloth was presented, by her 
 first woman, if she was alone at the commencement of the toilet; or, 
 as well as the other articles, by the ladies of honour if they were come. 
 At noon the women who had been in attendance four-and-twenty hours, 
 were relieved by two women in full dress ; the first woman went also 
 to dress herself. The grandes entrees were admitted during the toilet , 
 sofas were placed in circles for the superintendent, the ladies of ho- 
 nour, and tire-woman, and the governess of the children of France when 
 she came there ; the duties of the ladies of the bedchamber having 
 nothing to do with any kind of domestic or private functions, did not 
 begin until the hour of going out to mass ; they waited in the great 
 closet, and entered when the toilet was over. The princes of the blood, 
 captains of the guards, and all great officers, having the entry, paid 
 their court at the hour of the toilet. The Queen saluted by nodding her 
 head, of bending her body, or leaning upon her toilet table, as if moving 
 to rise ; the latter mode of salutation was for the princes of the blood. 
 The King's brothers, also, came very generally to pay their respects to 
 ber majesty while her hair was dressing. In the earlier years of the
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 291 
 
 reign, the first part of the dressing was performed in the bedchamber 
 and according to the laws of etiquette ; thatris to say, the lady of ho- 
 nour put on the chemise, and poured out the water for the hands ; the 
 tire-woman put on the skirt of the gown or full dress, adjusted the 
 handkerchief, and tied on the necklace. But when the young Queen 
 became more seriously devoted to fashion, and the head-dress attained 
 BO extravagant a height, that it became necessary to put on the chemise 
 from below ; when, in short, she determined to have her milliner, 
 Mademoiselle Bertin, with her whilst she was dressing, whom the ladies 
 would have refused to admit to any share in the honour of attending 
 on the Queen, the dressing in the bedchamber was discontinued, and 
 the Queen leaving her toilet, withdrew into her closet to dress. 
 
 On returning into her chamber, the Queen, standing about the middle 
 of it, surrounded by the superintendent, the ladies of honour and tire- 
 women, her ladies of the bedchamber, the first gentleman-usher, the 
 chief equerry, her clergy ready to attend her to mass, the prin- 
 cesses of the royal family, who happened to come, accompanied 
 by all their attendants, ladies, and tire-women, passed in order into 
 the gallery, as in going to mass. The Queen's signatures were gene- 
 rally given at the moment of entry into the chamber. The secretary 
 for orders presented the pen. Presentations of colonels, on taking 
 leave, were usually made at this time. Those of ladies, and such as 
 had a right to the tabouret, or sitting in the royal presence, were made 
 on Sunday evenings, before card-playing began, on their coming in 
 to pay their respects. Ambassadors were introduced to the Queen on 
 Tuesday mornings, accompanied by the attendant of ambassadors on 
 duty, and M. de Sequeville, the secretary for the ambassadors. The 
 attendant in waiting usually came to the Queen at her toilet, to 
 apprise her of the presentations which would be made of foreigners. 
 The usher of the chamber, stationed at the entrance, opened the fold- 
 ing-doors to none but the princes and princesses of the royal family, 
 and announced them aloud. Quitting his post, he came forward to 
 name the lady of honour, the persons who came to be presented, or 
 who came to take leave : that lady again named them to the Queen, at 
 the moment they saluted her ; if she and the tire-woman were absent, 
 the first woman took the place, and did that duty. The ladies of the 
 bedchamber, chosen solely as companions for the Queen, had no 
 domestic duties to fulfil, however opinion might dignify such offices in 
 a monarchical government. The King's letter in appointing them, 
 among other instructions of etiquette, ran thus: "Having chpsen you 
 to bear the Queen company." There were hardly any emoluments 
 accruing from this place, which was purely honorary. 
 
 The Queen heard mass with the King in the tribune, facing the grand 
 altar and the music, with the exception of the days of high cere- 
 mony, when their chairs were placed below, upon velvet carpets fringed 
 with gold. These days were marked by the name of grand chapel days. 
 
 The Queen named the collector beforehand, and informed her of it 
 through her lady of honour, who was besides desired to send the purse 
 to her. The collectors were almost always chosen from among those 
 who had been recently presented. After returning from mass, the 
 Queen dined every Sunday with the King only, in public, in the cabinet 
 of the nobility, a room which preceded her chamber. Titled ladies, 
 having the honours, sat during the dinner upon sofas placed on each 
 VOL. i. 26
 
 292 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 side of the table ; ladies without titles stood around the table ; the cap- 
 tain of the guards, and the first gentleman of the chamber, were behind 
 the King's chair ; behind that of the Queen were her first maitre d'hotel, 
 her first gentleman usher, and the chief equerry. The Queen's maitre 
 d'hotel was furnished with a large staff, six or seven feet in length, or- 
 namented with golden fleurs de lis, and surmounted by fleurs de lis in 
 the form of a crown. He entered the room with this badge of his office, 
 to announce that the Queen was served. The comptroller put into his 
 hands the card of the dinner ; in the absence of the maitre d'hotel, he 
 presented it to the Queen himself, otherwise he only did him the honours 
 of the service. The maitre d'hotel did not leave his place, he merely 
 gave the orders for serving up and removing ; the comptroller and 
 gentleman serving, placed the various dishes upon the table, receiving 
 them from the inferior servants. 
 
 The prince nearest to the crown, presented water to wash the King's 
 hands, at the moment he placed himself at table ; and a princess did 
 the same service to the Queen. 
 
 The table service was formerly performed for the Queen by the lady 
 of honour, and four women in full dress; this part of the women's 
 service was transferred to them on the suppression of the office of 
 maids of honour. The Queen put an end to this etiquette in the first 
 year of her reign. When the dinner was over, the Queen returned 
 without the King to her apartment, with her women ; and took off her 
 hoop and train. 
 
 Note 3. Page 167. 
 THE QUEEN'S PRIVY PURSE. 
 Manner of managing the funds. 
 
 The first women served by the month, and gave the accounts of the 
 privy purse to the Queen herself at the end of every month ; after 
 having examined them, the Queen wrote at the bottom of the last 
 page: "Approved Marie Antoinette." Each of the first women carried 
 home her account thus audited, leaving in the office of their apart- 
 ments in the castle, the receipts for the pensions or other matters 
 which she had paid during her month's service. In the same office 
 "was a statement of the pensions. It was taken away on the 10th of 
 August, and probably mixed with a number of other things carried to 
 the commune of Paris. The Assembly having decreed that charitable 
 pensions should be continued, and not finding the statement of them, 
 passed another decree, authorizing the pensioners to demand certifi- 
 cates from the officers or sub-officers of the Queen's chambers ; as 
 there was no longer in France either superintendent or lady of honour, 
 the first femmes de chambre were, after the reduction, authorized to 
 give these certificates. The supply of the privy purse was handed 
 over on the first of every month to the Queen. M. Randon de la Tour 
 presented her this sum at noon, the hour of her toilette ; it was always 
 in gold, and contained in a white leather purse lined with taffety and 
 embroidered with silver. The funds of the privy purse amounted to 
 three hundred thousand livres ; the monthly divisions of them were 
 not equal; the January purse was the richest; those which corre- 
 sponded in point of time with the affairs of St. Germain and St. 
 Laurent, were also richer than the others. This was an ancient eti- 
 quette, arising from a custom, which was formerly in use, for the
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 293 
 
 Kings to present the Queens with money, to enable them to make pur- 
 chases at the fairs. This sum of three hundred thousand livres was 
 merely play-money for the Queen, or for acts of beneficence, or any 
 presents she might be desirous of making. Her toilette was furnished 
 from other sources, even to her rouge aad gloves. The Queen retained 
 all the old pensioners of Maria Leckzinska, the wife of Louis XV. She 
 paid out of her three hundred thousand livres, to the amount of eighty 
 thousand livres annually, in pensions or alms, and saved out of the 
 rest. Every mouth the first woman put away two or three hundred 
 louis, which had not been spent, in a strong chest in the Queen's inner 
 closet. Out of these savings, the Queen, in the course of several 
 years, paid for a pair of ear-rings, formed of pear-shaped diamonds of 
 equal size, and a single diamond, which she bought of Boehmer, the 
 jeweller, in 1774. They were not completely paid for until 1780. 
 Having seen that the young Queen took so much time to discharge, out 
 of her savings, a debt she had contracted for an article that had 
 tempted her, and which she did not like to make the public money pay 
 for, Boehmer ought never to have lent himself to the belief, that eight 
 or ten years afterwards, she would, without the King's knowledge, 
 have purchased an ornament at fifteen hundred thousand livres. But 
 the desire to dispose of so expensive an article as the famous necklace, 
 the history of which is so generally, and at the same time so imper- 
 fectly known, and the hope of being paid in some way or other, 
 induced him to believe that which he ought not to have thought even 
 probable. The Queen had more than one hundred and ten thousand 
 livres in gold, in her apartment at the Tuilcries, a few days before" 
 the 10th of August; deceived by an artful fellow, who called himself 
 the friend of Petion, and promised to interest him for the King in case 
 of any attack upon the Tuileries, she preserved but fifteen hundred 
 louis in gold, which were taken to the Assembly on the taking of the 
 Tuileries. She had changed eighty and some odd thousands into 
 assignats, to make up a sum of one hundred thousand francs, which 
 was to be remitted to the mayor. It was agreed that Petion should 
 make a private signal on seeing the King on the 9th of August; but he 
 did not make it, and' this circumstance, and still more his conduct on 
 the disastrous 10th, produced a conviction, that the mediator was nothing 
 more than a mere thief. 
 
 The Queen's privy purse being thus prudently administered, and 
 having always exceeded her wants, and as she had even made some in- 
 vestments of money, it is not difficult to give credit to an important 
 truth, namely, that she never drew any extraordinary sum from the 
 public treasury. She was, however, unjustly accused of having done 
 so, in all the provinces, and even in Paris, where people most distin- 
 guished for rank and education adopt and promulgate opinions unfa- 
 vourable to the great, with unaccountable levity.
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 AND 
 
 OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 
 
 Note (A). Page 67. 
 
 THE DUKE D'AIGUILLON, grand-nephew of Cardinal de Richelieu, was 
 the dauphin's intimate friend ; and that which the prince, on account 
 of the discretion necessary in the heir to the crown, could only contem- 
 plate, the duke executed. Choiseul, on the other hand, born in Lorraine, 
 and the son of an ambassador of- the husband of Maria Theresa, a 
 foreigner in France, a subject and relative of the Emperor, was wholly 
 devoted to the interests of the court of Vienna, and strong in the power 
 of Madame de Pompadour, whom the Empress had intoxicated with 
 pride and vanity, by calling her cousin, and making her suitable pre- 
 sents ; he was supported by all the influence of the parliaments, of 
 which he called himself the protector, and was the declared enemy of 
 the Jesuits, ever since he had manifested his hatred to their general at 
 Rome. 
 
 These circumstances, and his extraordinary vanity, rendered him 
 careless as to making his court to the dauphin, who held opinions dia- 
 metrically opposite to his own, respecting the King's authority over the 
 parliaments, and the policy of France with respect to the house of 
 Austria. Bold and vain, yet reflecting and profound, with a great deal 
 of consistency and perseverance in his schemes, he possessed all the re- 
 quisite qualities, for becoming with impunity the primary agent of the 
 court of Vienna in France, at a time when the King appeared subdued 
 by fear; for confirming the alliance of 1756, driving the Abbe" de Bernis 
 from an administration in which he had not done enough for the court 
 of Vienna, and destroying, no matter by what means, every obstacle 
 raised against his plans. Born to a fortune below mediocrity, and 
 having but little to lose, his system presented to him the prospect of 
 that pomp and power, which we have since seen him attain. To gain 
 and to secure them, he had, in the legation from Vienna, in Madame de 
 Grammont, his sister, a politic and intrepid woman, and in the King's 
 favourite mistress, a council amply provided with powerful means of 
 promoting his objects. 
 
 The Duke d'Aiguillon, his enemy, held very different principles. 
 Constantly supported in secret by the dauphin, in all his opposition to 
 the new policy, inheriting all the principles of his great uncle Riche- 
 lieu, who established despotism in France, and was the founder of the 
 hatred of the Bourbons against the house of Austria, he was incapable 
 of conducting the business of the state otherwise than by following th
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 295 
 
 system of a military government : as a friend of the dauphin, he daily, 
 but secretly lamented with him over the Austiian alliance ; he loved the 
 Jesuits, and was the secret foe of the parliaments, which showed a 
 strong inclination in favour of liberty. He detested the new philoso- 
 phers, and formed a powerful party against them, at the head of the 
 Jesuits of St. Sulpice, and the bigots of the court. The Choiseul party 
 had everything to fear, while the Aiguillon party had everything to 
 hope, from a new reign, and the accession of the dauphin to the crown. 
 Such were the two characters, and the two opposite systems of govern- 
 ment, by which France was agitated towards the close of the reign of 
 Louis XV. 
 
 On the one hand, the Duke de Choiseul, with his Austrian alliance, 
 Lis Jansenists, parliaments and philosophers, attacks the Jesuits within, 
 and sacrifices the glory and preponderance of France without, to the 
 interests and the vanity of the house of Austria. On the other hand, 
 the Duke d' Aiguillon, siding with the Jesuits, either to save them from 
 falling, or to set them up again, after their fall, labours with them to 
 ruin the parliaments, and establish absolute authority. While forging 
 fetters for the nation, D' Aiguillon was desirous to free the second-rate 
 powers in. friendship with France, from the thraldom in which they 
 were held by the monstrous union of the three great powers, France, 
 Eussia, and Austria. The Duke de Choiseul, in forming that union, 
 was preparing for the subjection of Poland, Prussia, and Turkey, at 
 some distant period. So that the Duke d'Choiseul, by his principles, 
 became the tyrant of the inferior powers, frightened as they were by 
 the grand alliance, and favoured liberty in the interior of France ; 
 while D' Aiguillon sought to relieve the inferior powers, and tyrannize 
 over the interior. And thus with Choiseuls, Grammonts, and Pompa- 
 dours, the Duke de Choiseul annihilated the system of Henry IV., of 
 the Richelieus, Davauxs, Mazarins of Louis XIV., of the Serviens, of 
 the Belle-Isles, and even of Cardinal Fleury, who twice made war upon 
 Austria, and took from her, either by force or treaty, the kingdom of 
 Naples and the two Sicilies, Lorraine and Barrois. And thus, on the 
 other hand, D' Aiguillon laboured to strengthen the despotism establish- 
 ed by his great uncle in the interior. (Historical and Political Memoirs 
 of the reign of Louis XVI., by Soulavie, vol. i.) 
 
 Note (B), Page 76. 
 
 " Some time before the ambassador's departure, there happened to 
 me," says the Abb6 Georgel, "an adventure which became the source 
 of most important discoveries ; and the happy consequences of which 
 rank among the most valuable services rendered by the embassy of 
 Prince Louis de Rohan. 
 
 " Returning one evening to the hotel, the porter gave me a note care- 
 fully sealed up, and addressed to me ; I read as follows : Be to-night, 
 between eleven and twelve, at (a particular place upon the ramparts) and 
 you will be informed of matters of the very highest importance. An anony- 
 mous note of this tenor, sent so mysteriously, and the unseasonable 
 hour appointed, might have appeared to some altogether dangerous and 
 suspicious. But I was not aware that I had any enemies, and desirous 
 not to have to reproach myself with having missed an opportunity that 
 might never occur again, of promoting the King's service, I determined 
 to attend at the appointed place. But I took some prudential precau- 
 
 20*
 
 :.'9G HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 tions, by placing within a certain distance, where they could not be 
 seen, two persons on whom I could rely, to come to my assistance upon 
 a signal agreed on. I found at the place of meeting, a man wrapped 
 in a cloak and masked." He put some papers into my hands, and said 
 in an under and feigned voice: "You have gained my confidence; I 
 will therefore contribute to the success of M., the Prince de Rohan's 
 embassy. These papers will inform you of the very essential services 
 which it is in my power to render you. If you approve of them, come 
 
 again to-morrow to" another place which he mentioned, "and 
 
 bring me a thousand ducats." On my return to the Hotel de France, I 
 hastened to examine the papers confided to me. Their contents gave 
 me the most agreeable surprise. I saw that we had it in our power to 
 procure, twice a week, all the discoveries of the secret cabinet of Vienna, 
 which was the best served cabinet of Europe. This secret cabinet pos- 
 sessed, in the highest degree, the art of deciphering quickly the 
 despatches of ambassadors, and of the courts which correspond with its 
 court. I was convinced by the deciphering of our own despatches, and 
 those of our court to us ; even those that were written in the most com- 
 plicated and the newest ciphers ; that this cabinet had found means to 
 procure the despatches of several European courts, of their envoys and 
 agents, through the infidelity and audacity of the frontier directors and 
 postmasters, bribed for that purpose. In order to convince me of this, 
 I received copies of the despatches of the Count de Vergennes, our 
 ambassador at Stockholm ; of the Marquis de Pens, at Berlin ; of some 
 private despatches from the King of Prussia, to his secret agents at 
 Vienna and Paris, to whom alone he confided the true line of his policy, 
 and of whose mission his avowed envoys were utterly ignorant. The 
 same cabinet had discovered the most secret correspondence of the pri- 
 vate policy of Louis XV., a correspondence wholly unknown to his 
 council, and his minister for foreign affairs. Count Broglie, who had 
 succeeded the late Prince de Conti, was the private and -most carefully 
 concealed minister of this extraordinary diplomacy. He had for his 
 secretary, M. Favier, whose diplomatic works have procured him some 
 reputation, and subsequently M. Dumouriez, a pupil of Favier. The 
 mystery of this policy was not confided to all our ambassadors. Some- 
 times it was the secretary of the embassy, or any other Frenchman, 
 who, travelling under various pretences, was found a proper person to 
 act this part. Count Broglie gave the thread of this labyrinth to such 
 persons alone, whose attachment and discretion he had proved. So 
 marked a confidence, and relations so intimate with the King, who 
 himself paid out of his privy purse for this mysterious duty, could not 
 but flatter those who were thus honoured. Count Broglie, being hostile 
 to the house of Rohan, had taken very good care not to lot Prince Louis 
 de Rohan or myself into such a correspondence. His distrust was ap- 
 parently founded on a correct motive, and I will not blame him for it. 
 Among the papers delivered to me at the nocturnal rendezvous, was the 
 deciphered correspondence of Count Broglie with the Count de Ver- 
 gennes, our ambassador at Stockholm. Furnished with these documents, 
 and armed with unquestionable proofs of their authenticity, I instantly 
 went post-haste to communicate them to the ambassador. I laid before 
 him the samples of the political magazine from which we might supply 
 ourselves. The prince felt the value of it, especially to himself per- 
 sonally, inasmuch as this important discovery must necessarily efface 
 *lie unpleasant improppinns, which tho fhiko d'Aijriiillon had not failed
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 297 
 
 to make upon the king's mind, by representing to him, that Prince Louis, 
 too light, and too much taken up with the pursuits of pleasure, was not 
 so watchful at Vienna, as the good of the service required. This event 
 restored him all that cheerfulness, which the underhand and unremit- 
 ting persecution of that sullen and malicious minister had deprived him 
 of. He looked upon the new part he was about to play, as a certain 
 opening to that high reputation, which his conduct and industry merited. 
 
 "I met the masked man on the following night. I gave him the 
 thousand ducats : he handed to me other papers of increasing in- 
 terest, and during my whole stay at Vienna, he kept his word. Our 
 meetings took place twice a week, and always about midnight. The 
 ambassador wisely decided, that the occupation arising from this dis- 
 covery should be confined to him and myself, with an old secretary, 
 whose discretion we knew would stand any trial. The secretary 
 copied for the court the papers of the masked man, to whom we were 
 obliged to return them. 
 
 "A courier extraordinary was immediately despatched to Versailles 
 with the first fruits of the newly-discovered treasure. He was ordered 
 not to go to bed on his way, and to carry about his person the special 
 packet of secret despatches to the very end of his journey. The 
 courier was the bearer of two packets ; the first was addressed to the 
 King, in an envelope directed to the Prince de Soubise, a minister of 
 state, a friend of Louis XV. and cousin of the ambassador. The 
 Prince de Soubise was to hand it immediately and personally to his 
 majesty. The King was entreated to transmit his orders, in conse- 
 quence, through the same channel, which was safe against any impru- 
 dence. This first packet contained the proofs of Count Broglie's 
 mysterious correspondence, authorized by his majesty. Louis XV. was 
 assured, that in transmitting other discoveries to the Duke d'Aiguillon, 
 the strictest precautions had been taken, in order that that minister 
 might have no clue to the private correspondence, the knowledge of 
 which the King had thought proper to conceal from him. The second 
 packet was addressed to the minister direct. It contained copies of 
 the intercepted Prussian despatches as well as of other private de- 
 spatches from the Austrian ministry to the imperial ambassador at 
 Paris. In the latter, the Count de Mercy was instructed as to the 
 public and private conduct he should pursue, under such and such 
 circumstances, either with respect to the King, or Madame the dau- 
 phiness, and our administration. A separate letter communicated the 
 manner in which this disclosure was made : this letter informed the 
 minister that I was the indirect agent in it. Our courier returned 
 promptly. It is my duty here to speak the truth, and do complete 
 justice to the Duke d'Aiguillon. The Prince de Soubise informed his 
 cousin, that the minister had spoken at the council, in the warmest and 
 most nattering terms, of the importance of this discovery, and the signal 
 service rendered to the state by the ambassador. The official despatch of 
 M. d'Aiguillon, and a letter in his own hand, of which I have the original, 
 are couched in language which seems to efface even the slightest traces 
 of the coolness and dislike till then shown. 
 
 " ' I sincerely and feelingly share,' said he, 'both in the satisfaction 
 with which the King acknowledges your service, and the credit which 
 this discovery throws upon your mission.' The ambassador is afterwards 
 recommended to preserve the thread of this secret and important com- 
 munication at any price; and a carte blanche is given to both him and
 
 298 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 myself, for the sums we should judge useful or necessary for that 
 purpose. 
 
 " The King, who had put the Prince de Soubise in possession of the 
 secret of his private policy, confessed to him that our discovery had 
 created terror among the chief agents of the secret administration. 
 Count Broglie, in particular, was very much alarmed at it. He 
 dreaded, from the known disposition of Louis XV., all the consequences 
 which might follow in case the Duke d'Aiguillon should happen to 
 penetrate the veil, to him till then impenetrable. His majesty reassured 
 him, by informing him of the precautions taken, and the formal order 
 given by him to Prince Louis, to preserve the most inviolable secrecy 
 on this subject. Such an order had in fact been transmitted by the 
 Prince de Soubise, accompanied by the most flattering and honourable 
 testimonies of the King's satisfaction and good-will. 
 
 " After this discovery, an extraordinary courier was sent off every 
 fortnight with the new communications, with the same care and pre- 
 cautions as before. The absence and excursions of the ambassador, 
 and even his return home, during a whole year that I remained alone 
 charged with the King's business, neither interrupted nor opposed any 
 obstacle to the departure of couriers thus important. The masked 
 man even seemed to redouble his zeal at every succeeding interview." 
 
 Note (C), Page 76. 
 
 "To great distrust of his own powers," says the Abbe Georgel, 
 "and a total surrender of will in the affairs of the government of his 
 kingdom, Louis XV. added excessive curiosity to know the secret of 
 the intrigues of his court, the reports circulated about Paris, the 
 private lives of his ministers, and their conduct in the concerns of 
 their offices. Besides the lieutenant of police, he had secret agents at 
 Versailles and Paris. Laroche, one of his valets de chambre, was the 
 medium of this clandestine inquisition. Jeannet, the inspector of the 
 post, and after him the Baron d'Ogny, went every Sunday to the King, 
 to give him an account of the discoveries they had made, by opening 
 letters. These two confidants made extracts for the King, from such 
 letters as they thought proper to unseal. The ministers themselves 
 are subjected to this unaccountable inquisition. The danger of such a 
 practice is sufficiently obvious, when we reflect on the possibility of 
 either animosity or personal interest, or in short any private motives 
 interfering with these extracts. Twenty clerks, unknown to the admi- 
 nistration, were night and day secretly occupied in intercepting letters, 
 and making extracts from them. It was by these means that Louis 
 XV. discovered the correspondence of the Count d'Argenson with one 
 of his favourite mistresses, in which that minister, so much distinguished 
 by his master, expressed himself with very little reserve or respect, 
 respecting the King's character. His sudden and unexpected disgrace 
 followed very close upon the violation of the letters. 
 
 " In accordance with his mistrustful and inquisitive disposition, this 
 monarch had likewise contrived for himself a secret administration in 
 the European courts, absolutely unknown to the minister for foreign 
 affairs. The King, to whom this mystery was a positive enjoyment, 
 was desirous of judging by these means of the conduct of his ministers 
 at the several courts, and comparing their reports with those transmit- 
 ted to him by his secret administration : the agents and correspondents
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 299 
 
 of this dark policy were paid by the King himself, out of his private 
 purse. They were selected by the secret minister, who transacted the 
 business immediately with his majesty, and vouched to him for the 
 prudence of the persons to whom, through his instrumentality, the 
 King's instructions were intrusted. The thickest veil was spread over 
 this concealed diplomacy. The secret minister attended the King by 
 intricate ways known only to the confidential valet de chambre who 
 introduced him, on appointed days and hours. 
 
 "For conducting this correspondence, the preference was given 
 either to an ambassador, or to a secretary, when his discretion could 
 be relied on ; but if it was thought right to keep the knowledge of it 
 from both of them, measures were taken for sending and keeping near 
 them the instruments of this antiministerial league. Thus, during 
 the embassy of the Prince de Rohan, Count Broglie sent the young 
 Count de Guibert to travel in Germany, who, under various pretences, 
 stayed at Venice for a long period of time. 
 
 " Having had opportunities of making inquiries respecting this 
 strange policy of Louis XV., I have been assxired, by well -in formed 
 persons, that it was suggested to him by the old Abb6 de Broglie, the 
 uncle of the marshal and the count." 
 
 To these interesting particulars must be added those which the Abbe" 
 Soulavie gives of the secret administration of Louis XV., of the espio- 
 nage over the courts, and the violation of letters. From what we have 
 just read, it will be seen that the Abb6 Soulavie was often well informed, 
 and sometimes veracious : the two testimonies support each other. 
 
 "The house of Austria succeeded in procuring a knowledge of the 
 contents of our political despatches from the north and south ; but Prince 
 Louis de Rohan, our ambassador, availing himself of his influence 
 amongst the ladies, got copies of the confidential letters from the 
 Emperor to the King of Prussia, and of those from the Prince de Kaunitz 
 to the Count de Mercy, the ambassador of Maria Theresa at Versailles. 
 The two courts spent immense sums towards the close of the late King's 
 reign, not to promote their union, but to spy, to sound, and to find out 
 each other, especially with relation to the affairs of Poland. 
 
 " Prince Louis, since Cardinal de Rohan, succeeded in making im- 
 portant discoveries on that subject. He sent to his court the secret 
 papers relative to the interviews of Frederick and Joseph II., at Neiss 
 and Newstadt, having procured, by bribery, direct intelligence from 
 his chancery. The Prince de Kaunitz, who had a similar insight him- 
 self into our cabinet at Versailles, got at the source of the treachery in 
 his offices, and had one of the clerks drowned in the Danube. Prince 
 Louis, undismayed at this, gained over others in the offices of the 
 Prince de Kaunitz, and even penetrated into the interior apartments of 
 the Empress and her son. He learnt that Austria was about to join 
 Russia against the Porte and France, and had the good fortune to pre- 
 vent the disasters that Austria might have brought on our ally. He 
 also succeeded in intercepting the letters from Kaunitz to the Count de 
 Mercy, the Austrian ambassador in France ; he thereby learned that 
 the court of Vienna had obtained copies of the despatches from the 
 Prince de Rohan to the Duke d'Aiguillon. The Count de Mercy had 
 traitors in his pay at court, about Louis XV., and in the offices of the 
 Duke d'Aiguillon, who preferred the pecuniary rewards of the Prince 
 de Kaunitz to the sentimental satisfaction felt by a good Frenchman in 
 his fidelity. Louis XV. indignantly ordered each of his mipisters,
 
 300 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 teparalely, to give him their suspicions in writing, that he might unmask 
 the Austrian courtier. 
 
 " Prince Louis, on his part, procured copies of the correspondence 
 of the Prince de Kaunitz with ftie Austrian ambassador, at Petersburg. 
 The policy of the house of Austria towards Catherine II., was again 
 exposed in it. The Count de Mercy, who was informed of these letters 
 being communicated by Rohan to Louis XV., informed Maria Theresa 
 of it ; and Rohan apprised his own court, that the Prince de Kaunitz, 
 being on a wrong scent, had taken the precaution to have the locks of 
 his closet changed, confiding the deposit of the most important despatches 
 to none but his secretary. These diplomatic anecdotes demonstrate 
 the mistrust and solicitude of the two courts of Vienna and Versailles, 
 during the administration of the Duke d'Aiguillon, and explain the 
 implacable anger of Marie Antoinette with respect to him, when she 
 was become Queen of France. 
 
 " On the 10th of January, 1774, Prince Louis informed the court, 
 that the Prince de Kaunitz had succeeded in purchasing the ciphers of 
 his correspondence with the King, and with our ambassadors at Con- 
 stantinople, Stockholm, Dantzic, and Petersburg. He did more ; he 
 proved to Louis XV. that the court of Vienna had deciphered copies 
 of all the despatches between the Duke d'Aiguillon and the minister 
 of every court in Europe. To prove this, he sent extracts from copies 
 of letters from the Duke d'Aiguillon to Berlin, Munich, Dresden, and 
 Petersburg. He learnt that the offices of interception were Liege, 
 Brussels, Frankfort, and Ratisbon ; and that the machinery of our 
 ciphers was at that time such, that the Austrian decipherers were able, 
 without much difficulty, to write out our despatches. ' From my 
 closet,' said Prince Louis, ' I read all the correspondence of which I 
 speak; I learn the secrets that the ministers think proper to withhold 
 from me, in the letters they write to me. There it was that I learned, 
 and stated in a private letter delivered to the King by the Prince de 
 Soubise, that the Count de Broglie had, during his exile, and with his 
 majesty's sanction, continued his secret correspondence with M. 
 Durand, at Petersburg, and with other ministers. To this letter were 
 annexed the ciphers they made use of. Since this information, so for- 
 tunately acquired and eagerly communicated to our ministry, I have 
 never ceased to dwell upon the necessity of a change of ciphers ; I am 
 still without any sure means for conveying the secret instructions I 
 have to transmit to Constantinople, Stockholm, and Petersburg. All 
 the despatches of Prince Kaunitz, and all those of foreign princes that 
 are intercepted, pass through what is here called the cabinet of decipher- 
 ers. Baron Pichler is at the head of it. He transacts business only 
 with the Empress, and renders accounts of his proceedings to none but 
 herself. Pichler delivers five copies to her, one for the Emperor, one 
 for the Grand Duke of Tuscany, the eventual successor to the Austrian 
 monarchy ; one is sent to Brussels to Prince Stahremberg, intended to 
 succeed the Prince de Kaunitz ; and one to Count de Rosemberg, a 
 confidant. Each returns his copy to the Empress, with marginal 
 observations; and upon these observations, political projects and reso- 
 lutions are founded The Empress has sometimes additions or omissions 
 made in the intercepted despatches, when she desires that certain 
 counsels or information, which she does not wish to appear to emanate 
 from her, should reach the Emperor." (Historical and Political Me- 
 moirs of the Reign of Louis XVI., by Soulavie, vol. iii.)
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 301 
 
 Note (D), Page 91. 
 
 This account of the characters of the court, discloses the party 
 spirit which the Empress fomented in France. She charged the Count 
 de Mercy to keep it up ; she pointed out, without exception, all the 
 Lorrainers, born in a province which was the cradle of her husband, 
 Francis I., and in which the house of Austria carefully preserved a 
 party which never forgot its ancient sovereigns. This was a founda- 
 tion-stone in the policy of the house of Austria. Attachment, without 
 too positive engagements, was suitable to the refined policy of a skilful 
 woman, who knew how to colour and conceal her sentiments. The 
 Duke de Choiseul is properly at the head of the list ; he was the leader 
 of the Lorraine and Austrian party ; he first organized it in France. 
 The Montazets were absolutely sold to the party, so that subsequently, 
 the Abb6 de Montazet became Archbishop of Lyons, through the inte- 
 rest of the Duke de Choiseul, for his Jansenistic opinions, and for the 
 spirit of persecution which he displayed against the Sulpicians and the 
 Jesuit party in general. 
 
 As to the Count de Broglie, the Empress must have been completely 
 deceived by that skilful politician. He was the director of the famous 
 secret correspondence, which incessantly laboured against the interest 
 of Maria Theresa, by secretly thwarting the Austrian alliance of 1756. 
 
 Count de Broglie was not a man to sell his secret and his country. 
 lie was even persecuted by the Prince de Kaunitz : the recommenda- 
 tion, then, of the Count de Broglie, is the result of some of those 
 incomprehensible acts of diplomatists who are skilled in the art of dis- 
 guising their principles, when they have any, or affecting a great variety 
 of them, according to circumstances. The profound secrecy constantly 
 kept by the agents of the private correspondence, under the Count de 
 Broglie, induces a belief, that he was among the number of the former. 
 (Historical and Political Memoirs of the Reign of Louis XVI., by Soulavie.) 
 
 Note (E), Page 92. 
 
 The Abb6 Georgel, secretary to the embassy at Vienna, a man of 
 talent, of whom we have before spoken, in page 91 of this volume, thus 
 relates the re,call of the cardinal in his memoirs. His narrative, in some 
 respects, confirms that of Madame Campan. Nothing illustrates history 
 so well as this accordance between different testimonies. 
 
 " On the departure of Prince Louis de llohan for Compiegne, where 
 the new King held his court, I remained at Vienna, charged with the 
 transaction of the aifairs of France witlithe Austrian ministry. I conse- 
 quently received instructions to contintie the negotiations as intrusted 
 with the political correspondence with our ministry, and the King's 
 ambassador at Constantinople. Upon his arrival, the Prince de llohan 
 heard of the complaints of Maria Theresa, and the steps already taken 
 in her name by Marie Antoinette for his recall. He had an audience 
 of the King: it was short, and far from satisfactory. Louis XVI. 
 listened to him a few minutes, and then abruptly said, ' I will soon let 
 you know my pleasure.' 
 
 " He never could obtain an audience of the Queen, and, without 
 deigning to receive him, she sent for the letter which her mother, the 
 Empress Maria Theresa, had given him for her. His relations did not 
 conceal from him that the prejudices of the King and Queen against 
 him were very strong. They advised him not to make any attempts to
 
 302 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 return to Vienna ; saying they would be quite thrown away, and would 
 only give more publicity to las disgrace. The new minister for foreign 
 affairs was still at Stockholm, and he who held the office in the interim, 
 had not sufficient influence to second any request of Prince Louis to 
 return to Vienna with effect ; he therefore remained in this state of 
 perplexity and suspense more than two months, deeming his honour 
 interested in his return to his embassy. He felt himself called upon to 
 write a letter to the King, in which he described his situation, in terms 
 calculated to interest the monarch's justice and feelings. His letter 
 remained unanswered ; but Louis XVI. told the Countess de Marsan, 
 a cousin of the ambassador, that the embassy to Vienna was intended 
 for a man preferred by the Empress, and selected by the Queen, whom 
 he had been unable to refuse. It was soon understood that the Baron 
 de Breteuil was the person. On receiving this intelligence, Prince Louis 
 could no longer retain any doubt of his complete disgrace, or of the 
 mortifications he would have to endure under the new reign." 
 
 Note (F), Page 97. 
 
 Christopher de Beaumont, Archbishop of Paris, the ardent apostle 
 of frequent communion, arrived at Paris with the intention of soliciting 
 in public the administration of the sacrament to the King ; and 
 secretly retarding it as much as possible. The ceremony could not 
 take place without the previous and public expulsion of the concubine, 
 according to the canons of the church, and the Jesuitical party, of 
 which Christopher was the leader. This party, which had made use 
 of Madame Du Barry to suppress the parliaments, to support the Duke 
 d'Aiguillon, and ruin the Choiseul faction, did not very willingly con- 
 sent to disgrace her canonically, after such striking services. The 
 Archbishop of Paris had always said openly, that she had rendered the 
 most signal services to religion.* This monilist party was joined by 
 the Dukes de Richelieu, de Fronsac, d'Aiguillon, Bertin, Maupeou, 
 and Terray. Madame du Barry being their support with the weak 
 and pusillanimous King, they were bound to defend her, and prevent a 
 degradation and retaliation, such as the Duchess de Chateauroux had 
 meditated in a similar case, in 1745. 
 
 The opposite party, the Choiseuls, which was active in every direc- 
 tion, sought, on the other hand, to accelerate a religious ceremony, 
 which was to annihilate a favourite, who had driven their leader, the 
 Duke de Choiseul, from court. It was amusing to see the latter party, 
 which was the scourge of religion in France, calling it in to their aid, 
 during the King's sickness, in order to revenge themselves on Madame 
 du Barry ; while the party of the archbishops and the bigots, in their 
 turn, combined to prevent Louis XV. from receiving the sacrament. 
 At that time they were coolly jobbing and bargaining about the King's con- 
 science and compunction, said the Cardinal du Luynes to me. 
 
 There was consequently an absolute uproar at court. The question 
 was, whether the King should, or should not, receive the sacrament imme- 
 diately. Must we, said the Marechal de Richelieu, must ice suffer Madame 
 du Barry to be sent away with ignominy, and can we forget her services, and 
 expose ourselves to her vengeance in case of her return ? or rather shall we 
 await the extremity of the invalid to effect a mere separation, and proceed, 
 
 * That the rigid Christopher de Beaumont should have said any such thing, we 
 think very doubtful ; for our parts, we do not believe a word of it. Note by tht 
 Editor.
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 303 
 
 without noise or exposure, to a plain administration of the sacrament ? Such 
 was the ferment, and such the state of men's minds at court, when on 
 the 1st of May, the Archbishop of Paris presented himself for the first 
 time to the sick monarch, at half past eleven o'clock in the morning. 
 He had scarcely reached the door of the King's antechamber, when 
 Marshal Richelieu went to meet him, and conjured him not to kill the 
 King by a theological proposition,* which had killed so many sick persons. 
 "But if you are curious to hear some pretty little elegant sins," said 
 he to the prelate, "place yourself there, Monsieur Archbishop, and I 
 will confess, and teach you such as you have not heard since you 
 became Archbishop of Paris. If, however, you will absolutely confess 
 the King, and repeat here the scenes of the Archbishop of Soissons, at 
 Metz ; if you will send away Madame du Barry with disgrace, reflect 
 on the consequences, and your own interests. You complete the tri- 
 umph of the Duke de Choiseul, your inveterate enemy, from whom 
 Madame du Barry has contributed so much to deliver you, and you 
 persecute your friend for the benefit of your foe. Yes, sir ; I repeat 
 it, your friend ; and so much is she your friend, that she said to me 
 yesterday : ' Let the archbishop leave us alone ; he shall have his car- 
 dinal's cap ; I take it upon myself, and will answer for it.' " 
 
 The Archbishop of Paris readily understood that this business of 
 the sacrament would meet with considerable opposition. He went into 
 the King's bedchamber, and found there Madame Adelaide, the Duke 
 d'Aumont, the Bishop of Senlis, and the Marshal Richelieu, in whose 
 presence the archbishop resolved not to say one word about confession, 
 for that day. . This circumspection so pleased Louis XV., that on the 
 archbishop's withdrawing, he had Madame du Barry called in, and 
 kissed her beautiful hands again, with his wonted affection. 
 
 On the 2d of May, the King found himself a little better. Madame 
 du Barry had brought him two confidential physicians, Lorry and 
 Borden, who were enjoined to conceal the nature of his sickness from 
 him, and remain silent as to his real situation, in order to keep off the 
 priests, and save her from a humiliating dismissal. The King's im- 
 provement allowed of Madame du Barry's resuming her free manners 
 with him, and diverting him by her usual playfulness and conversa- 
 tion. Butia Martiniere, who was of the Choiseul party, and to whom 
 they durst not refuse his right of entry, and who felt offended at the 
 confidence placed in Lorry and Borden, did not conceal from the King 
 either the nature or the danger of his sickness. He answered his 
 questions as to the nature of the pustules, which multiplied all over 
 him in a frightful manner: "Sire, these pimples are three days in 
 forming, three in suppurating, and three in drying." The King, who 
 had not forgotten that he had had the small-pox, being convinced of 
 the malignity of the sickness, sent for Madame du Barry, and said to 
 her: "My love, I have got the small-pox, and my illness is very dan- 
 gerous on account of my age and other disorders. I ought not to forget 
 that I am the most Christian King, and the eldest son of the church. I am 
 sixty-four ; the time is perhaps approaching when we must separate. 
 I wish to prevent a scene like that or Metz. Apprise the Duke d'Ai- 
 guillon of what I say to you, that he may arrange with you, if my 
 sickness grows worse ; so that we may part without any publicity." 
 
 * The truth of these particulars is confirmed by Besenval's Memoirs, vol. i. 
 Note by the Editor 
 
 VOL. i. 27
 
 The Jansenists and the Duke de Choiseul's party, triumphed in the 
 archbishop's failure. They publicly said, that M. d'Aiguillon and the 
 Archbishop of Paris, had resolved to let the King die without receiving 
 the sacrament, rather than disturb Madame du Barry. Annoyed by 
 their remarks, Beaumont determined to go and reside at the La/aris- 
 tes, his house at Versailles, to deceive the public, avail himself of the 
 King's last moments, and sacrifice Madame du Barry, when the 
 monarch's condition should become desperate. He arrived at Ver- 
 sailles on the 3d of May, but did not see the King. The prelate was 
 no longer impelled by that impetuosity of zeal which we have known 
 him to possess, nor had he his old affectation of contempt for all polite- 
 ness, and the common observances of good society, when called upon 
 to fulfil his duty. He had no other object, than under existing circum- 
 stances, to humble the enemies of his party, and to support the 
 favourite who had assisted it to overcome them, to the utmost. 
 
 A contrary zeal animated the Bishop of Carcassonne, who was at 
 daggers-drawn with Cardinal de la Roche-Aymon. The complaisant 
 spirit of the latter had elevated him to his dignities and to his places at 
 court. Less of the Christian than the courtier, he thought, with the 
 Richelieus and the mistress, that the monarch ought not to be terrified 
 by any remarks relative to the administration of the sacraments. He 
 said, with them, that the mere mention of the sacraments might make 
 a very dangerous impression upon the King's mind. The Bishop of 
 Carcassonne (a second Fitz-James, Bishop of Soissons, who acted the 
 same part at Metz), on the contrary, urged " that the King ought to 
 receive the sacrament ; and by expelling the concubine, to give an 
 example of repentance to France and Christian Europe, which he had 
 scandalized." 
 
 " By what right," said Cardinal de la Roche-Aymon, " do you instruct 
 me?" "There is my authority," replied the Bishop of Carcassonne, 
 holding up his pectoral cross. " Learn, Monseigneur, to respect this 
 authority, and do not suffer your King to die without the sacraments 
 of the church, of which he, the most Christian King, is the eldest son." 
 Amidst this confusion, the disgraceful scenes of Metz were about to be 
 renewed, when the Duke d' Aiguillon and the Archbishop of Paris, who 
 witnessed the discussion, thought fit to put an end to it. D' Aiguillon 
 went to receive the King's orders relative to Madame du Barry. " She 
 must be taken quietly to your seat at Ruelle," said the King ; " I shall 
 be grateful for the care Madame d' Aiguillon may take of her." 
 
 Madame du Barry saw the King again for a moment on the evening 
 of the 4th, and promised to return to court upon his recovery. Madame 
 d' Aiguillon took with her Mademoiselle du Barry and Madame de Serre, 
 in her carriage to Ruelle, to wait the event. She was scarcely gone, 
 when the King asked for her She is gone, was the answer. From that 
 moment the disorder gained ground ; he thought himself a dead man, 
 without the possibility of recovery. 
 
 The 5th and 6th passed without a word of confession, viaticum, or 
 extreme unction. The Duke de Fronsac threatened to throw the curate 
 of Versailles out of the window, if he dared to utter them. It is from 
 himself, I have the story. But on the 7th, at three in the morning, 
 the King imperatively called for the Abbi> Maudoux. Confession lasted 
 seventeen minutes. The Dukes de la Vrilliere and D'Aiguillon wished 
 to delay the viaticum ; but La Marti niere. to complete the expulsion of 
 Madame du Barry, said to the King: "Sire, I have seen your majesty
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 305 
 
 in very trying circumstances ; but never admired you as I have done 
 to-day. No doubt your majesty will immediately finish what you have 
 so well begun." The King had his confessor Maudoux called back : 
 this was a poor priest, who had been placed about him for some years 
 before, because he was old and blind. lie gave him absolution. 
 
 As to the formal renunciation desired by the Choiseul party, in order 
 to humble and annihilate Madame du Barry with solemnity, it was no 
 more mentioned. The grand almoner, in concert with the archbishop, 
 composed a formula, which was thus proclaimed in presence of tht 
 viaticum: " Although the King owes an account of his conduct to none 
 but God alone, he declares his repentance at having scandalized his 
 subjects, and is desirous to live solely for the maintenance of religion 
 and the happiness of his people." Descents and openings of the shrine 
 of Saint Genevieve, were afterwards multiplied to obtain his recovery. 
 
 On the 8th and 9th the disorder grew worse ; and the King beheld 
 the whole surface of his body coming off piecemeal and corrupted. 
 Deserted by his friends, and by that crowd of courtiers which had so 
 long crowded before him, the only consolation presented to him, was 
 the piety of his daughters.* (Historical and Political Memoirs by Sou- 
 lavie, vol. i.) 
 
 Note (G), Page 100. 
 
 When the Duke de Choiseul's exclusion from administration was de- 
 termined on, nothing remained but to choose among the three candidates 
 who were dear to the late dauphin, and to the children of Louis XV., 
 especially as they had been exiled through the intrigues of Madame de 
 Pompadour, who was so much detested by the royal family. The dau- 
 phin had recommended them to his successor. The three ministers 
 were, the Cardinal de Bernis, M. de Maurepas, and M. de Machault. 
 The cardinal was at once set aside, although proposed by Madame 
 Adelaide, who, however, observed, that the cardinal might have had, 
 in the first treaty of 1756, with Austria, a claim to form a party with 
 the Queen. 
 
 M. de Machault being found more impartial upon the question rela- 
 tive to foreign policy, Louis XVI. decided in his favour. He did so 
 the rather, "because M. de Machault had the very highest reputation for 
 strict probity. Under these circumstances he wrote the former keeper 
 of the seals a letter of invitation, in which he depicts the timid and 
 hesitating character of his mind. He tells him, that he shares the 
 grief of all France upon the death of Louis XV., whereas all France 
 heard the news of it with ecstasy. He observes, that he has high duties 
 to fulfil, that he is deficient in the knowledge necessary for governing, 
 and he invokes the probity and talents of M. de Machault. 
 
 The Abbe de lladonvilliers, hovering about the young King under 
 these circumstances, in order to put in a word to suit his own ends, 
 alarmed at the idea of the return of the inflexible and severe Machault, 
 the enemy of the priesthood, remarked to Madame Adelaide, that the 
 principles of the old minister were very rigid and- very Jansenistical, 
 
 * These notes relative to (lie list sickness of Louis XV., wore furnished to me by 
 M. cle l'i Horde, his first valet de chambre, who has loft some valuable memoirs of 
 the court of Louis XV : by tho Abbe Dupinet, canon of Notre Dsune, who had them 
 from the Archbishop of Paris; by the Cardinal de Luynes, Madame d'Aiguillnr. the 
 Duke do Frons ic. :.nd Marsh; I Richelieu. I have had recourse to botli parties, for 
 the account of 'I e intrigues by which the expiring king was tormented. jYore ij 
 Sovlavi
 
 306 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 and that he would b^ quite misplaced in a court, the character of which 
 had changed very much during the latter years of Louis XV. He added, 
 that violent and terrible measures must be expected if he returned, 
 because he had grown rusty in his exile, while M. de Maurepas had, 
 during his, preserved the ease, grace, and wit of a Frenchman. Ho 
 also remarked, that the King's letter recalling M. de Machault, would 
 do equally well for M. de Maurepas, and proposed to request the King 
 merely to change the envelope. 
 
 The ex-jesuit Radonvilliers had a motive which he kept to himself. 
 The Jesuits and Sulpicians could not endure M. de Machault, since, 
 by the edict of 1748, he proscribed all donations of funded property to 
 the clergy, in France. Maurepas, on the contrary, was the friend of 
 M. d'Aiguillon, devoted to the Jesuits and detested by the parliaments. 
 The young King, yielding to these observations, suffered the letter 
 signed in favour of M. de Machault to be addressed to M. de Maurepas. 
 Radonvilliers and D'Aiguillon, without being aware of it, prepared the 
 downfall of the state. M. de Maurepas was much beneath his place, 
 in all affairs relative to the preservation of a great empire. M. de 
 Machault, on the other hand, was a deep and reflecting man, capable 
 of preserving it as the empires of Russia, Turkey, England, and Austria, 
 have been preserved. Machault had an anticipating mind, but Mau- 
 repas never appeared to care for the existence of the state beyond the 
 duration of his own life. The Abbe de Iladonvilliers, observing that 
 the Duke d'Aiguillon was the last and only partisan the Jesuits had 
 left in the cabinet of Versailles, imagined that M. de Maurepas, the 
 duke's uncle, would keep him there. The esprit de corps at this con- 
 juncture, favoured the most contemptible of the three candidates, and 
 M. de Maurepas, who had neither genius, decision of character, nor 
 views sufficiently elevated for a prime minister, was preferred. (His- 
 torical and Political Memoirs of the Reign of Louis XVI., by Soulavie, 
 vol. ii.) 
 
 Note (H), Page 102. 
 
 A list of several persons recommended by the dauphin to st:ch one of his 
 children as shall succeed Louis XV. ; intrusted to the care of M. M. de 
 Nicolai, with many other papers. 
 
 M. de Maurepas is an old minister, who has preserved, as far as I can 
 learn, his attachment to the true principles of policy, which Madame 
 de Pompadour mistook and betrayed. 
 
 The Duke d'Aiguillon belongs to a house which rendered itself illus- 
 trious by a political system, which France will sooner or later be com- 
 pelled for its safety to adopt again. He will be matured by age, and 
 will be useful in many respects. His principles, upon the subject of 
 the royal authority, are as pure as those of his family, which have 
 been without a flaw from the time of Cardinal de Richelieu. 
 
 My father has sent out of the way a man of unbending temper and 
 some errors of judgment, but a man of worth, M. de Machault. The 
 clergy detest him for his severities towards them; time has greatly 
 moderated him. 
 
 M. de Trudaine enjoys a high reputation for probity and attachment, 
 combined with great acquirements. 
 
 The Cardinal de Bcrnis is at length rewarded for the services he has 
 rendered the house of Austria. But his political system, with relation 
 to that power, was conceived with more moderation than that of the
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 307 
 
 Duke de Choiseul. He was sent away, because he did not do enough 
 for the Empress, and remembered that he was a Frenchman. If he 
 moderates his well-known resentment against the powerful party of 
 the clergy, who are much attached to our house, he may become very 
 xiseful. 
 
 M. de Nivernois has quickness, and is a man of polished manners ; he 
 may be sent on embassies where these qualities are indispensable. It 
 is in that way that he must be employed. 
 
 M. de Castries is fit for military matters ; he is honourable and well 
 informed. 
 
 M. du Muy is virtue personified. He inherits all the good qualities 
 that were possessed by M. de Montausier, as I understand from report. 
 He will be found steadfast in virtue and honour. 
 
 Messieurs de Saint Priest rose through Madame de Pompadour, but 
 they have capacity and inspiring dispositions. A distinction should 
 be carefully made between the father, on the one hand, and the son 
 and the chevalier, on the other. The chevalier may one day become 
 very useful. 
 
 Count de Perigord is a prudent and worthy man. 
 
 Count de Broglie possesses activity and talent, and is capable of 
 forming political combinations. 
 
 The Marshal de Broylie is qualified to command in war. 
 
 The Count d'Estaing is equal to his station. 
 
 The information of M. de Bourcet may be relied on. The same of 
 Baron d'Espagnac. 
 
 M. de Vergennes is fit for embassies ; he has a well ordered mind, is 
 wise, and is capable of carrying on a protracted affair on good prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 There are in the parliament, in the families of the president, men 
 very much attached to their duties ; there are also some among the 
 councillors. 
 
 M. the president Ogier is of a fit temperament for stormy and diffi- 
 cult negotiations ; but there are among the magistracy some violent 
 spirits, and men guided by others, who are unfit to be employed else- 
 where than in parliament, on account of their restlessness. 
 
 As to the clergy, M. de Jarente has introduced into that body, many 
 persons who deserve to remain unknown. He has taken the course 
 directly contrary to that adopted by his predecessor, who wished to 
 have an exemplary clergy, a clergy interested in the cause of religion. 
 M. de Jarente chooses persons too much like himself. 
 
 The Bishop of Verdun is too well known to need recommendation ; 
 the same may be said of all his family, the attachment of which is 
 undeniable. 
 
 M. Duke de la Vauguyon is equally too well known to require recom- 
 mendation. He had it too much at heart to render his pupils polished, 
 enlightened, and able princes, ever to be forgotten. I can say the 
 same in favour of the persons intrusted with the education of the 
 children of France. 
 
 As for M. the old Bishop of Limoges, his virtue, candour, and deli- 
 cacy, speak for themselves. 
 
 There are other persons very worthy of recommendation ; but, 
 besides that they are in office, they ai-e connected either by friendship 
 
 27*
 
 308 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 or relationship with those above mentioned. I shall therefore not 
 speak of them. 
 
 The Archbishop of Paris (de Beaumont) is to be looked upon as one 
 of the pillars of religion, whom the family is bound both in conscience, 
 and for its own sake to maintain, cost u-hat it will. The affectionate 
 mother of my children will say more about it. She knows well how 
 to distinguish between good and evil, and it is not necessary here to 
 demonstrate how worthy she is of the tenderest attention. (Soulavie's 
 Historical and Political Memoirs of the Reign of Louis XVI., vol. i.) 
 
 Note (I), Page 115. 
 
 "Before the time of Francis Stephen, the imperial court of Germany 
 was the most magnificent and the most pompous of all Europe. No- 
 where was what is called etiquette observed more rigorously, or more 
 scrupulously. Francis suffered it to continue in high ceremonies, but 
 banished it from the privacy of the court. The Empress Queen readily 
 acceded to this alteration, which accorded perfectly well with her 
 natural benevolence. They substituted, therefore, for the ancient 
 etiquette, the ease and even the familiarity which they had so success- 
 fully indulged in at Luneville. They lived in the midst of those who 
 came about them, just as private individuals live among their equals. 
 Except on days of ceremony, their table was frugal, and they received 
 at it persons of merit of both sexes, without distinction of birth. In 
 their amusements they carefully discarded all restraint ; and their 
 dress in no way distinguished them from those who shared in the 
 diversions. In short, they both received, with truly winning affability, 
 all who had to approach them. Their mode of reception was even more 
 prepossessing towards the humble than towards the great, the poor 
 man than the rich. 
 
 It is impossible to help envying the happiness of sovereigns who can 
 descend to such familiarity with impunity ; for it must be delightful 
 occasionally to forget the burthen of royalty, and taste the pleasures 
 of private life. But Marie Antoinette deceived herself, in thinking, 
 that she also could open her heart to those delicious emotions which 
 are never felt by those who keep themselves at too great a distance 
 from the rest of mankind. She did not know the disposition of our 
 nation, which, as La Bruyere says, requires seriousness and severity in 
 its masters, and, by the time she had learned that truth, the lesson 
 came too late. (History of Marie Antoinette Josephs Jeanne de Lorraine, 
 Archduchess of Austria, Queen of France, by Montjoie.) 
 
 Note (K), Page 122. 
 
 "A few days before the dauphin's marriage, it was reported, that 
 Mademoiselle de Lorraine, daughter of the Countess de Brionne, and 
 sister of the Prince de Lambesc, grand ecuyer of France, was to dance 
 her minuet at the dress ball immediately after the princes and 
 princesses of the blood ; and that the King had granted her that dis- 
 tinction just after an audience which his majesty had given to the 
 Count de Mercy, the ambassador of the Emperor and Empress. 
 Although the etiquette and forms of a dress ball are by no means 
 the object of these pages, it must not be supposed, that they are quite 
 jnproductive of matter to the philosophic mind ; besides, it is always 
 interesting to remark whatever characterizes the spirit of a court, a
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 309 
 
 nation, or of the age. The intelligence about Mademoiselle de Lor- 
 raine's minuet caused the greatest fermentation amor.g the dukes and 
 peers, who, upon this occasion, enlisted all the superijr nobility of the 
 kingdom in their cause. They set it down for an incontrovertible 
 principle, that there could not be any intermediate rank between the 
 princes of the blood and the superior nobility ; and that, consequently, 
 Mademoiselle de Lorraine could have no rank distinct from that of the 
 women of quality presented at court. 
 
 "The Archbishop of Rheims, the first ecclesiastical peer, being 
 unwell, they met at the house of the Bishop of Noyon, the second 
 ecclesiastical peer, brother of the Marechal de Broglie. They drew 
 up a memorial to be presented to the King : the dukes and peers, in 
 signing it, left intervals between their signatures, that the superior 
 nobility might sign without any particular order, and without distinc- 
 tion of title or rank. The Bishop of Noyon presented this memorial 
 about the minuet to his majesty. 
 
 " The request was hardly known, when the following parody on it was 
 publicly circulated : 
 
 Sire, the Great, one and all 
 See, with sorrow and pain, 
 A princess of Lorraine 
 Take the lead at the ball. 
 It" your majesty menu 
 Such affronts to project, 
 Such marked disrespect, 
 
 They will quit the gay scene ; 
 
 And leave fiddlers and all : 
 Then think what is said, 
 The agreement is made. 
 Signed Bishop of Noyon, 
 De Villette, Beaufremont, &c. 
 
 "In fact, it was openly said, that if the King's answer were imfa- 
 vourable, all the women of quality would find themselves suddenly 
 indisposed, and not one of them would dance at the ball. This versified 
 petition is not without point in other respects. Independently of the 
 absurdity of a prelate's presiding over deliberations, and guiding the 
 measures and struggles of the French nobility, upon the subject of a 
 minuet, the names of some ancient and illustrious houses are enclosed 
 in it, between two grandees of the monarchy of very recent date. This 
 may be taken for a joke, but it is a certain fact; and it is a positive 
 truth, that the Marquis de Villette, the son of a treasurer of war extra- 
 ordinary, who never distinguished himself, down to the present time, 
 further than by a few trifling compositions, and some tolerably glaring 
 slips of youth, was permitted to sign a petition, at the bottom of which 
 we read the names of Beaufremont, Clermont, and Montmorency. No 
 doubt his descendants will be grateful to him for this signature. They 
 will say, ' one of our ancestors signed the famous minuet-petition on 
 the marriage of the grandson of Louis XV., in concert with all the 
 peers, and all the superior nobility of the kingdom ; so that our name 
 was thenceforward classed among the most illustrious in the kingdom,' 
 They may also say : ' In 1770, at the dress ball on the marriage of the 
 dauphin, a Villette disputed the point of precedence with the princess 
 of the house of Lorraine. It is the great Villette,' one of his grand- 
 sons will add, ' who published, at his own expense, an culogium upon 
 Charles V., and one upon Henry IV., which have not escaped the attacks 
 of time either in the archives of literature, or in those of our house ;'
 
 810 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 and thej will say the truth. There are plenty of historical proofs, 
 which rest on no better foundation." ( Grimm's Correspondence, tome 
 7, page 143.) 
 
 The following are particulars added by Soulavie to those we have 
 just read : 
 
 ' Maria Theresa knew the court of Versailles well ; and yet she so 
 far erred as to demand diplomatically, through M. de Mercy, her am- 
 bassador, that Mademoiselle de Lorraine, her relation, and the Prince 
 de Lambesc, should rank next after the princes of the blood, in the 
 entertainments on the marriage of her daughter with the dauphin of 
 France. 
 
 "Louis XV., in order to gratify the dauphiness, who desired it; and 
 Maria Theresa, who demanded it, thought fit to make it an affair of 
 state. He knew the jealousy of the grandees of his court, with relation 
 to their rights of etiquette, and he desired them, by virtue of the sub- 
 mission and attachment which they owed him, and which they had 
 manifested to hipi, as well as to his predecessors, not to contradict him 
 on this occasion. He signified his desire to mark his gratitude to the 
 Empress, for the present she made to France of her daughter ; he had 
 recourse to the language of friendship, and worked on the feelings on 
 that occasion, to obtain this condescension from the grandees of the. 
 state. 
 
 " The docility of tbe nobles to Louis XV. had altered for some years, 
 and the King did not calculate on the obstacles the dukes would throw 
 in the way of this new assumption. The ladies of the court, frmn whom 
 Louis XV. had aright to expect the most submission and deference, 
 played an obstinate and haughty part, opposing an insurmountable 
 resistance to the King's request, that Mademoiselle de Lorraine might 
 be suffered to dance immediately after the princesses of the blood ; 
 they were firm in their resolution of depriving themselves of the pleasure 
 of the ball, rather than suffer their right to dance first, to be infringed 
 upon. Among all these ladies, Madame de Bouillon distinguished her- 
 self most by the asperity of her refusals and observations. Louis XV. 
 showed himself so much offended at them, that she came no more to 
 court. The dauphiness, on her part, was so vexed, that she procured 
 one of the letters that Louis XV. had written to the peers, and shut it 
 up in her desk saying, I will remember it. However, in order to put an 
 end to the matter, Mademoiselle de Lorraine agreed to dance with the 
 Duchess de Duras, whose situation kept her at court. This middle 
 course diminished the scandal of the affair, and the eclat of the retreat 
 and return to Paris of the titled ladies, who had refused to dance at 
 the wedding of the young princess." (Historical and Political Memoirs 
 of the Reign of Louis XVI., vol. i.) 
 
 Note (L), Page 124. 
 
 " The dresses worn by the principal dignitaries at the consecration 
 were, on account both of their richness and their ancient form, among 
 the most interesting objects of that solemnity. The lay peers were 
 clad invests of gold stuff, which came down as far as the mid-leg; 
 they had girdles of gold, silver, and violet-coloured silk mixed, and 
 over the long vest a ducal mantle of violet cloth, lined and edged with 
 ermine ; the round collar was likewise of ermine ; and every one wore 
 a crown upon a cap of violet satin, and the collar of the order of the 
 Holy Ghost over the mantle.
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 311 
 
 " The captain of the hundred Swiss of the King's guard was dressed 
 in silver stuff, with an embroidered shoulder-belt of the same ; a black- 
 mantle lined with cloth of silver, and, as well as his trunk hose, 
 trimmed with lace, and a black cap surmounted with a plume of 
 feathers. The grand master, and the master of the ceremonies, were 
 dressed in silver stuff doublets, black velvet breeches intersected by 
 bands, and cloaks of black velvet, trimmed with silver lace, with caps 
 of black velvet surmounted with white feathers. 
 
 Everything being arranged for giving suitable pomp and splendour 
 to the consecration, on Sunday, the llth of June, as early as six in 
 the morning, the canons in their copes arrived in the choir, and placed 
 themselves in the upper stalls. They were soon followed by the arch- 
 bishop, Duke de Rheims, the cardinals and prelates invited, the minis- 
 ters, the marshals of France, the counsellors of state, and the deputies 
 of the various companies : every one took the place appointed for him, 
 without any confusion. 
 
 About half-past six, the lay peers arrived from the archiepiscopal 
 palace. Monsieur represented the Duke of Burgundy ; M. the Count 
 d'Artois, the Duke of Normandy ; and the Duke of Orleans represented 
 the Duke of Aquitaine. The remainder of the ancient peers of France, 
 the Counts of Thoulouse, Flanders, and Champagne, were represented 
 by the Duke de Chartres, the Prince de Conde, and the Duke de Bour- 
 bon, who wore counts' coronets. 
 
 The ecclesiastical peers continued hooded and mitred during the 
 whole ceremony. 
 
 At seven, the bishop, Duke de Laon, and the bishop, Count de Beau- 
 vais, set out to fetch the King. These two prelates, in their pontifical 
 dresses, with their reliquaries suspended from their necks, were pre- 
 ceded by all the canons of the church of Rheims, among whom were 
 the musicians. The chanter and sub-chanter walked after the clergy 
 and before the Marquis de Dreux, grand master of the ceremonies, 
 who immediately preceded the bishops, Duke de Laon, and Count de 
 Beauvais ; they passed through a covered gallery, and came to the 
 King's door, which, according to custom from time immemorial, they 
 found shut. The chanter strikes upon it with his baton ; and the great 
 chamberlain, without opening, says to him, What is it you require? We 
 ask for the King, replies the principal ecclesiastical peer. The King 
 sleeps, returns the great chamberlain. Then the grand chanter begins 
 striking again ; the bishop asks for the King, and the same answer is 
 given. At length, the chanter, having struck a third time, and the 
 great chamberlain answered, the King sleeps, the ecclesiastical peer, 
 who has already spoken, pronounces these words, which remove every 
 obstacle: "We demand Louis XVI., whom God has given us for out 
 King;" immediately the chamber doors open and another scene begins. 
 The grand master of the ceremonies leads the bishops to his majesty, 
 who is stretched upon a state bed : they salute him profoundly. The 
 monarch is clothed in a long crimson waistcoat, trimmed with gom 
 galoon, and, as well as the shirt, open at those places where he is to 
 be anointed. Above the waistcoat he has a long robe of silver stuff, 
 and upon his head a cap of black velvet, ornamented with a string of 
 diamonds, a plume, and a white double aigrette. The ecclesiastical 
 peer presents the holy water to the King, and repeats the following 
 prayer: "Almighty and everlasting God, who hast raised thy servant, 
 Louis, to the regal dignity, grant him throughout his reign to seek the
 
 312 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 good of his subjects, and that he may never wander from the paths of 
 truth and justice." This prayer ended, the two bishops take his 
 majesty, the one by the right arm, and the other by the left, and 
 raising him from the bed, conduct him in pompous procession to the 
 church through the covered gallery, chanting appropriate prayers. 
 
 About seven, the King, having reached the church, and every one 
 having taken his proper place, the Holy Ampulla soon arrived at the 
 principal door. It was brought from the abbey of Saint Renii by the 
 grand prior, in a cover of cloth and gold, and mounted upon a white 
 horse from the King's stable, covered with a housing of cloth of silver, 
 richly embroidered, and led by the reins by two grooms of the state 
 stable. The grand prior was under a canopy of similar materials, car- 
 ried by four barons, called knights of the Holy Ampulla, clad in white 
 satin, with a mantle of black silk, and a white velvet scarf, trimmed 
 with silver fringe which his majesty had done them the honour to 
 bestow upon them ; they wore the knight's cross, suspended round the 
 neck by a black ribbon. At the four corners of the canopy, the peers 
 named by the King as hostages of the Holy Ampulla were seen, each 
 preceded by his esquire, with a standard, bearing on one side the arms 
 of France, and on the other those of the peer himself. The hostages 
 took an oath upon the Holy Gospels, and solemnly swore between the 
 hands of the prior, in presence of the officers of the abbey bailiwick, 
 that no injury should be done to the Holy Ampulla, for the preserva- 
 tion of which, they promised to risk their lives if necessary ; and at the 
 same time, they made themselves pledges, responsible sureties, and 
 declared that they would remain hostages until the return of the Holy 
 Ampulla. According to the form followed on such occasions, however, 
 they required to be permitted to accompany it, for the greater safety and 
 preservation of the aforesaid, under the same responsibility ; which was 
 granted them. All these formalities are so superfluous that they become 
 quite ridiculous. The Holy Ampulla, which is so conspicuous an article 
 in the consecration of our Kings, is a sort of small bottle filled, as it is 
 said, with a miraculous balm, which never diminishes, and which served 
 to anoint Clovis. It is pretended, that it was sent from heaven and 
 brought by a dove to Saint Remigius, who died about the year 538 : it 
 is treasured in the very tomb of the ancient archbishop, whose body 
 remains entire in a shrine of the abbey bearing his name : and is 
 enclosed in a silver gilt reliquary, enriched with diamonds and gems of 
 various colours.* 
 
 The archbishop of Rheims being apprised, by the master of the cere- 
 monies, of the arrival of the Holy Ampulla, went immediately to receive 
 it at the gate of the church: upon placing it in his hands, the grand 
 prior, according to the form, addressed these words to him: "To you, 
 my lord, I intrust this precious treasure sent from heaven to the great 
 Saint Remigius, for the consecration of Clovis and the Kings his suc- 
 cessors ; but I request you, according to ancient custom, to bind yourself 
 to restore it into my hands, after the consecration of our King Louis 
 XVI." The archbishop, conformably with the custom, takes the required 
 oath in these terms : " I receive this Holy Ampulla with reverence, and 
 promise you, upon the faith of a prelate, to restore it into your hands 
 at the conclusion of the ceremony of the consecration." Having thus 
 
 * This pliial was afterwards broken to pieces upon the pavement of the abbey by 
 the conventinnary Ruhl, deputed for that purpose; the shrine and reliquaries, broken 
 rr; his direction, were sent to La Monnaie. Note by the Editors.
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 313 
 
 said, the Cardinal de la Roche-Aymon took the marvellous phial, 
 returned to the choir, and deposited it upon the altar. A few minutes 
 afterwards he approached the King, to whom he administered the oath, 
 called the protection oath, for all the churches in subjection to the crown : 
 a promise which his majesty made sitting and covered. "I promise," 
 said the King, " to prevent the commission of rapine and injustice of 
 every description by persons of all ranks. I swear to apply myself 
 sincerely, and with all my might, to the extermination of heretics, 
 condemned and pointed out by the church, from all countries subject 
 to my government." 
 
 After this oath, two ecclesiastical peers present the King to the 
 assembly, and demand whether Louis XVI. is approved of for the dignity 
 of King of France. A respectful silence, say the books which describe 
 the ceremony, announced the general consent. 
 
 The Archbishop of Rheims presented the book of the Gospels to the 
 King, upon which placing his hands, his majesty took the oath to main- 
 tain and preserve the orders of the Holy Ghost and Saint Louis, and 
 always to wear the cross of the latter order attached to a flame-coloured 
 silk ribbon ; to enforce the edict against duels, without any regard to 
 the intercessions of any princes or potentates in favour of the guilty. 
 The former part of this oath is of very little importance, and the second 
 is broken every day. 
 
 When the King, for the second time, received the sword of Charle- 
 magne, he deposited it in the hands of the Marechal de Clermont Ton- 
 nerre, officiating as constable, who held it point upwards during the 
 ceremony of the consecration and coronation, as well as during the 
 royal banquet. While the King was receiving and returning the sword 
 of Charlemagne, several prayers were read. In one of them, God was 
 entreated that the holy monastery might experience the King's bounty ; 
 that his favours might be spread among the great of the kingdom ; that 
 the dew of heaven, and the fatness of earth, might furnish in his 
 dominions an inexhaustible pleuteousness of corn, wine, oil, and all 
 kinds of fruit; so that, under his reign, the people might enjoy unin- 
 terrupted health, &c. 
 
 When these prayers were finished, the officiating prelate opened thd 
 Holy Ampulla, and let a small quantity of oil drop from it, and this he 
 diluted with some consecrated oil, called holy cream. The King pros- 
 trated himself before the altar upon a large square of violet-coloured 
 velvet, embroidered with golden fleurs-de-lis, the old archbishop Duke 
 of Rheims, being also prostrated on his right hand, and remained in 
 that lowly posture until the conclusion of the litanies chanted by four 
 bisliops alternately with the choir. The following versicle occurs in 
 those litanies : 
 
 Ut dominion Apostolicum et omnes gradus Ecclesice in sancta religions con 
 servare digneris. (That it may please thee to keep the sovereign pontiff 
 and all the orders of the church in thy holy religion.) 
 
 At the end of the litanies, the Archbishop of Rheims placed himself 
 in his chair, and the King kneeling down before him, was anointed 
 upon the crown of the head, the breast, between the two shoulders, 
 upon the right shoulder, the left, upon the joint of the right arm, and 
 upon that of the left arm ; at the same time the prelate pronounced 
 certain prayers, the substance of which was as follows : " May he hum- 
 ble the proud ; may he be a lesson for the rich ; may he be charitable 
 towards the poor ; and may he be a peacemaker among nations." A
 
 814 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 little further on, these words occur among the prayers : " May he never 
 abandon his rights over the kingdoms of the Saxons, Mercians, people 
 of the north, and the Cimbri." 
 
 An anonymous author says, that by the word Cimbri, is meant the 
 kingdom of England, over which our Kings expressly reserve their in- 
 disputable rights, from the time of Louis VIII., upon whom it was con- 
 ferred by the free election of the people who had driven out John Sans 
 Terre. 
 
 After the seven anointings, the Archbishop of Rheims, assisted by 
 the bishops of Laon and Beauvais, laced up with gold laces the open- 
 ings of the King's shirt and waistcoat, and he, rising, was invested by 
 the great chamberlain with the tunic, dalmatic, and royal mantle, lined 
 and edged with ermine : these vestments are of violet velvet, embroi- 
 dered with gold and fleurs-de-lis, and represent the dresses of sub- 
 deacon, deacon, and priest : a symbol, doubtless by which the clergy 
 seek to prove their union with the royal power. The King placed 
 himself upon his knees again before the officiating archbishop, who 
 made the eighth unction upon the palm of the right hand, and the ninth 
 and last upon that of the left; he afterwards placed a ring upon the 
 fourth finger of the right hand, as a type of unlimited power, and of 
 the intimate union thenceforward to reign between the King and his 
 people. The archbishop then took the royal sceptre from off the altar, 
 and put it into the King's right hand, and afterwards the hand of justice, 
 which he put into the left hand. The sceptre is of gold, enamelled and 
 ornamented with oriental pearls ; it may be about six feet in height. 
 Upon it is represented, in relief, Charlemagne, with the globe in his 
 hand, seated in a chair of state, ornamented with two lions and two 
 eagles. The hand of justice is a staff of massive gold, only one foot 
 and a half in length, adorned with rubies and pearls, and terminated 
 by a hand formed of ivory, or rather of the horn of a unicorn ; and it 
 has at regular distances, three circles of leaves sparkling with pearls, 
 garnets, and other precious stones. 
 
 At length, however, we. came to a period when the clergy cease to 
 arrogate to themselves the right of conferring his supremacy upon the 
 King. The keeper of the seals of France, officiating as chancellor, as- 
 cended the altar, and placing himself by the Gospels, turning his face 
 towards the choir, summoned the peers to the coronation in the follow- 
 ing words: "Monsieur, representing the Duke of Burgundy, come 
 forward to this act, &c. &c." The peers having approached the King, 
 the Archbishop of Rheims took from the altar the crown of Charle- 
 magne, which had been brought from Saint Denis, and placed it uppn 
 the King's head ; immediately the ecclesiastical and lay peers raised 
 their hands to support it there ; a truly noble and expressive allegory, 
 but which would be much more accurate, if delegates from the peo- 
 ple, also in the same emblematical spirit, sustained the crown. In 
 one of the prayers at this part of the ceremony, an oriental expression 
 of great energy is made use of: " May the King have the strength of 
 the rhinoceros ; and may he, like a rushing wind, drive before him the na- 
 tions of our enemies, even to the extremity of the earth." The crown 
 of Charlemagne, which is preserved in the treasury of the Abbey of 
 Saint Denis, is of gold, and enriched with rubies and sapphires : it is 
 lined with a crimson satin cap, embroidered with gold, and surmounted 
 by a golden fleur-de-lis, covered with thirty-six oriental pearls. 
 
 After these various ceremonies, the Archbishop Duke of Rheims took
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 316 
 
 the King by the right arm, and followed by the peers .and all the officers 
 of the crown, led him to the throne raised upon a platform, where he 
 seated him, reciting the enthroning prayers. In the first of these, it is 
 said : " As you see the clergy nearer than the rest of the faithful to the 
 holy altars, so ought you to take care and maintain it in the most ho- 
 nourable place." On concluding the prayers prescribed for the occasion, 
 the prelate took off his mitre, made a profound bow to the King, and 
 kissed him, saying, "VivatRex in cuternum," (may the King live for ever!) 
 The other ecclesiastical and lay peers also kissed the King, one after 
 the other, and as soon as they were returned to their places, the gates 
 of the church were opened ; the people rushed in, in a mass, and in- 
 stantly made the roofs resound with shouts of, Long live the King I which 
 were re-echoed by the crowd of persons engaged in the ceremony, who 
 filled the enclosure of the choir like an amphitheatre ; an irresistible 
 impulse gave rise to a clapping of hands, which became general ; the 
 grandees, the court, the people, animated by the same enthusiasm, ex- 
 pressed it in the same manner. 
 
 The Queen, exceedingly affected, could not withstand the impression 
 it made upon her, and was obliged to withdraw for a short time. When 
 she made her reappearance, she, in her turn, received a similar homage 
 to that just offered by the nation to the King. 
 
 While all resounded with exclamations of joy, the fowlers, according 
 to a very ancient usage, set at liberty in the church, a number of birds, 
 which, in recovering their freedom, expressed the eifusion of the mo- 
 narch's favours upon the people, and that men are never more truly free, 
 than under the reign of an enlightened, just, and beneficent prince." (Se- 
 cret Correspondence of the Court of Louis XVI.) 
 
 Note (M) Page 131. 
 
 " The only passion ever shown by Louis XVI. was for hunting ; he 
 was so much occupied by it that when I went up into his private closets, 
 at Versailles, after the 10th of August, I saw. upon the staircase six 
 frames, in which were seen statements of "all his hunts both when 
 dauphin and when king. In them was detailed the number, kind, and 
 quality of the game he had killed at each hunting party, with recapitu- 
 lations for every month, every season, and every year of his reign. 
 
 The interior of his private apartments was thus arranged : a saloon 
 ornamented with gilded mouldings, displayed the engravings which 
 had been dedicated to him ; drawings of the canals he had dug, with 
 the model of that of Burgundy ; and the plan of the cones and works 
 of Cherbourg. 
 
 The upper hall contained his collection of geographical charts, 
 spheres, globes, and also his geographical cabinet. There were to be 
 seen drawings of maps which he had begun, and some that he had 
 finished. He had a clever method of washing them in. His geogra- 
 phical recollection was prodigious. 
 
 Above was the turning and joining-room, furnished with ingenious 
 instruments for working in wood. He inherited some from Louis XV., 
 and he often busied himself, with Duret's assistance, in keeping them 
 clean and bright. 
 
 Above was the library of books published during his reign. The 
 prayer books and manuscript books of Anne of Brittany, Francis I., 
 
 VOL. I. 28
 
 816 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 the latter Valois, Louis XIV., Louis XV., and the dauphin, formed the 
 great hereditary library of the castle. Louis XVI. placed separately, 
 in two apartments communicating with each other, the works of his 
 own time. Among the most remarkable, was a complete collection of 
 Didot's editions, in vellum, every volume of which was enclosed in a 
 morocco case. There were several English works, among the rest the 
 Debates of the British Parliament, in a great number of volumes in 
 folio (this is the Moniteur of England, a complete collection of which 
 is so valuable and so scarce). By the side of this collection, was to be 
 seen a manuscript history of all the schemes for a descent upon that 
 island, particularly that of Count de Broglie, and other analogous 
 plans. 
 
 One of the presses of this cabinet was full of pasteboard boxes, con- 
 taining papers relative to the house of Austria, with this ticket written 
 in his own hand: "Secret papers of my family, respecting the house of 
 Austria ; papers of my family respecting the houses of Stuart and Hanover." 
 
 In an adjoining press were kept papers relative to Russia. The most 
 refined wickedness produced the publication of satirical works against 
 Catherine II., and against Paul I., which were sold in France under 
 the names of histories. Louis XVI. collected and sealed up with his 
 small seal, the scandalous anecdotes against Catherine II., as well as 
 the works of Rhulieres, of which he had a copy, to be certain that the 
 secret life of that princess, which attracted the curiosity of her co- 
 temporaries, should not be laid open by his means. 
 
 Above the King's private library was a forge, two anvils, and a vast 
 number of iron tools ; various common locks, well made and perfect ; 
 some secret locks, and locks ornamented with gilt copper. It was there 
 that the infamous Gamin, who afterwards accused the King of having 
 tried to poison him, and was rewarded for his calumny with a pension 
 of twelve thousand livres, taught him the art of lock-making. Gamin, 
 in spite of his vulgarity, had brought the King to suffer himself to be 
 treated as an apprentice is by his master in his workship. This 
 Gamin, who became ur guide, by order of the department and 
 municipality of Versailles', did not, however, complain of the King, on 
 the 20th December, 1792. He had been the confidant of that prince 
 on an immense number of important commissions : the King had sent 
 him the Red Book, from Paris, in a parcel; and the part which was 
 concealed during the Constituent Assembly, still remained so in 1793. 
 Gamin hid it in a part of the chateau, inaccessible to everybody, where 
 we found it. He took it from under the shelves of a secret press, 
 before our eyes. This anecdote is a convincing proof that Louis XVI. 
 hoped to return to his chateau. 
 
 In teaching Louis XVI. his trade, Gamin had taken upon him the 
 tone and authority of a master. "The King was good, forbearing, 
 timid, inquisitive, and addicted to sleep," said Gamin to me; "he was 
 fond of lockmaking to excess, and he concealed himself from the Queen 
 and the court to file and forge with me. In order to convey his anvil 
 and my own backwards, and forwards, we were obliged to use a thou- 
 sand stratagems, the history of which would never end." 
 
 Above the King's and Gamin's forges and anvils, was an observatory, 
 erected upon a platform covered with lead. There seated in an arm 
 chair, and assisted by a telescope, the King observed all that was 
 passing in the court yards of Versailles, the avenue of Paris, and Ihe 
 neighbouring gardens. He had taken a liking to Dnret. one of the
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 317 
 
 Eervants of the interior, who sharpened his tools, cleaned his anvils, 
 pasted his maps and adjusted eye-glasses to the King's sight, "who 
 was myopic. This good Duret, and indeed all the servants of the 
 interior, spoke of their master with regret and affection, and with tears 
 in their eyes. 
 
 The King was born weak and delicate ; but from the age of twenty- 
 four, he possessed a robust constitution. Instances of his strength 
 were often mentioned at court : he inherited it from his mother, who 
 was of the house of Saxony, so celebrated, for generations, for its 
 robustness. 
 
 There were two men in Louis XVI., the man of knowledge, and the 
 man of will. The first of these possessed very extended and varied 
 qualifications ; the King knew the history of his own family and of the 
 first houses in France perfectly. He composed the instructions for M. 
 de la Peyrouse's voyage round the world, which the minister thought 
 were drawn up by several members of the Academy of Sciences. 
 
 His memory contained an infinite number of names and situations. 
 He remembered quantities and numbers wonderfully. One day, an 
 account was presented to him, in which the minister had placed among 
 the expenses an item inserted in the account of the preceding year. 
 "There is a double charge," said the King; "bring me last year's 
 account, and I will show it you there." 
 
 When the King was perfectly master of the details of any matter, 
 and when he saw justice violated, he was obdurate even to harshness. 
 A crying injustice forced him out of his own disposition ; then he would 
 be obeyed instantly, in order to be sure that he was obeyed, and to 
 prevent any negligence in that respect. 
 
 But on important affairs of state, the King of will and command, was 
 nowhere to be found. Louis XVI. was, upon the throne, exactly what 
 those weak temperaments, whom nature has rendered incapable of an 
 opinion, are in society. In his pusillanimity, he gave his confidence 
 to a minister ; and although amidst various counsels, he often knew 
 which was the best, he never had the resolution to say, " / prefer the 
 advice of such a person." Herein originated the misfortunes of the 
 state. (Soulavie's Historical and Political Memoirs of the Reign of 
 Louis XVI. Vol. II.) 
 
 Note (0), Page 162. 
 
 Madame Campan, relating candidly and plainly what there is of 
 truth in the anecdote since falsified by M. de Lauzun, has destroyed 
 all the effect that his malignity could possibly intend. We shall 
 give this anecdote on which even he, in his folly, had no reason to 
 pride himself much, and which his offended vanity has so strangely 
 travestied. 
 
 " Madame de Gue'me'ne'e came up to me, and said, in an under tone, 
 laughing, ' Are you very much attached to a certain white heron plume, 
 which was in your helmet when you took leave ? The Queen is dying 
 for it ; will you refuse it to her ?' I replied that I should not dare to 
 offer it to her, but that I should be most happy if she would condescend 
 to receive it from Madame Gue'me'ne'e. I sent a messenger to Paris for 
 it, and Madame de Gue'me'ne'e gave it to her the next evening. She 
 wore it on the very day following, and when I made my appearance at 
 her dinner, she asked me what I thought of her head dress. I replied, 
 that I liked it very much. ' I never,' said she, with infinite affability,
 
 318 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 'saw myself so becomingly dressed before.' It certainly would have 
 been better if she had not said anything about it, for the Duke de Coig- 
 ney took notice both of the feather and the phrase ; he asked whence 
 the plume came: the Queen said with some embarrassment that I had 
 brought it to Madame de Gue'mene'e from my travels, and that she had 
 given it to her. The Duke de Coigney spoke about it to Madame de 
 Gue'me'ne'e in the evening, with much asperity, and told her that nothing 
 could be more ridiculous or indecorous, than the footing I was on with 
 the Queen ; that to act the lover thus publicly, was a thing unheard of; 
 and that it was incredible that she should look as if she approved of it. 
 What he said was not well received, and he began to think of contriv- 
 ing means to get me out of the way." 
 
 Now if Madame Campan's version be compared with that we have just 
 read, what will be the result? that M. de Lauzun himself offered the 
 heron's plume, and was not asked for it ; that it was worn out of mere 
 condescension, and that, in his silly presumption he dared to take 
 that for a proof of partiality, which was mere politeness. M. de Lau- 
 zun cannot conceal his presumptious hopes, but his Memoirs do not 
 disclose the speedy chastisement they met w.ith. The humiliation he 
 must have felt, when the Queen banished him from her presence for ev.er, 
 explains the resentment of a man generally successful in his intrigues, 
 and anxious to indulge his self-love, even at the expense of honour and 
 truth. 
 
 Note (P) Page 167. 
 
 To a Lady. 
 MADAM, 
 
 I do not think that it is among the duties of a monarch to grant places 
 to one of his subjects, merely because he is a gentleman. That, however, 
 is the inference from the request you have made to me. Your late 
 husband was, you say, a distinguished general, a gentleman of good 
 family ; and thence you conclude, that my kindness to your family can 
 do no less than give a company of foot to your second son, lately re- 
 turned from his travels. 
 
 Madame, a man may be the son of a general, and yet have no talents 
 for command. A man may be of a good family, and possess no other 
 merit than that which he owes to chance, the name of gentleman. 
 
 I know your son, and I know what makes the soldier; and this two- 
 fold knowledge convinces me that your son has not the disposition of 
 a warrior, and that he is too proud of his birth, to leave bis country 
 the least hope of his ever rendering it any important service. 
 
 What you are to be pitied for, madam, is, that your son is not fit 
 either for an officer, a statesman, or a priest ; in a word, that he is 
 nothing more than a gentleman, in the most extended acceptation of 
 the word. 
 
 You may be thankful to that destiny which, in refusing talents to 
 your son, has taken care to put him in possession of great wealth, which 
 will sufficiently compensate him for other deficiencies, and enable him, 
 at the same time, to dispense with any favour from me. 
 
 I hope you will be impartial enough, to feel the reasons which 
 prompt me to refuse your request. It may be disagreeable to you, but 
 I consider it necessary. Farewell, madam. 
 
 Your sincere well-wisher, JOSEPH. 
 
 LacJitenburg, th August, 1787.
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 319 
 
 To Pope Pius VI. 
 MOST HOLY FATHER, 
 
 The funds of the clergy of my dominions are not destined, as has 
 6een~.boldly said at Rome, to expire with my reign, but rather to 
 become a relief to my people ; and, as their continuation, as well as 
 the displeasure which has burst forth upon this subject, are within the 
 jurisdiction of history, posterity will be masters of the matter without 
 our co-operation : this, then, will be a monument of my time, and I 
 hope not the only one. 
 
 I have suppressed the superfluous convents, and the still more super- 
 fluous societies : their revenues serve to support curates and to ame- 
 liorate the primary institutions ; but amidst all the confidence in 
 matters of account, which I am obliged to place in persons employed 
 by the state, the funds of the latter have, with me, absolutely nothing 
 in common with those of the church. An action should be judged of 
 only by its intention, and the results of this action can only be appre- 
 ciated by their success, which will not be known for some years. 
 
 I see, however, that logic is not the same at Rome, as it is in my 
 dominions ; and hence arises this want of harmony between Italy and 
 the empire. 
 
 If your holiness had taken the charitable care to inform yourself, at 
 the proper source, of what was passing in my territories, many things 
 would not have happened ; but there were people at Rome who, as it 
 appears to me, would have darkness spread itself more and more over 
 our poor globe. 
 
 You have now the brief account of the causes which have compelled 
 my arrangements ; I hope you will excuse the conciseness of my letter, 
 on consideration, that I have neither the time nor the talent necessary 
 for discussing so vast a theme in the manner used in a Roman museum. 
 
 I pray God still to preserve you to his church, and to send one of 
 his angels before you, to prepare for you the ways of heaven. 
 
 Your most obedient son in Jesus Christ, JOSEPH. 
 
 Vienna, July, 1784. 
 
 To a Lady. 
 MADAM, 
 
 You know my disposition: you are not ignorant that the society of 
 the ladies is to me a mere recreation, and that I have never sacrificed 
 my principles to the fair sex. I pay but little attention to recommen- 
 dations ; and I only take them into consideration, when the person, in 
 whose behalf I. may be solicited, possesses real merit. 
 
 Two of your sons are already loaded with favours. The eldest, who 
 is not yet twenty, is chief of a squadron in my army ; and the youngest 
 has obtained a prebend at Cologne, from the Elector, my brother 
 What would you have more ? Would you have the first a general, and 
 the second a bishop ? 
 
 In France you may see colonels in leading strings; and in Spain, the 
 royal princes command armies even at eighteen ; hence Prince Stahrem- 
 berg forced them to retreat so often, that they were never able, all the 
 rest of their lives, to comprehend any other manoeuvre. 
 
 It is necessary to be sincere at court, and severe in the field ; stoical 
 without obduracy; magnanimous without weakness ; and to gain the 
 
 28*
 
 S20 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 esteem of our enemies by the justice of our actions : and this, 'madame, 
 is what I aim at. JOSEPH. 
 
 Vienna, September, 1787. 
 
 (Extract from the unedited letters from Joseph II., published at 
 Paris, by Persan, 1822.) 
 
 Note (Q), Page 182. 
 
 "Maurepas (Jean-Frederic-Phelippeaux, Count de), sprung from a 
 family originally of Blois, and acknowledged noble from 1399. was the 
 son of Jerome, minister and secretary of state, and grandson of Chan- 
 cellor de Pontchartrain, whose father and grandfather were also in 
 administration ; so that these places remained in the same family, one 
 hundred and seventy-one years (from 1610 to 1781). The Count de 
 Maurepas, who was born in 1701, was a knight of Malta, before he was 
 of age. At fourteen he was appointed secretary of state, in the room 
 of his father, who had just resigned. The Marquis de la Vrilliere was 
 deputed to execute the office, and to train up the young minister, who was 
 related to him, and shortly afterwards became his son-in-law, to the 
 business of his post. The Count de Maurepas lost his father-in-law in 
 1725, and then, and not till then, began his administration, which 
 extended over several large provinces, over Paris, the court and the 
 navy. He was at that time but twenty-four ; and thus early did he 
 betray the levity, carelessness and frivolity of disposition, which con- 
 tinued unconnected by either the lessons of disgrace, or the maturity 
 of age, throughout the whole course of a conspicuous career, which 
 nature and fortune combined to prolong to a very advanced period. 
 He is thus described by one of his contemporaries : ' Superficial and 
 incapable of steady and profound application, but blest with a degree 
 of intelligence and a quickness of perception, which in an instant un- 
 ravelled the most complicated knot of any affair, his experience and 
 address made amends in council for his want of study and reflection. 
 He was prepossessing and easy, supple and insinuating, flexible, fertile 
 in stratagems for attack, resources for defence, feints to elude, evasions, 
 repartees to laugh down serious opposition, and expedients for retriev- 
 ing false steps, and surmounting difficulties : he seized, with the eye 
 of a lynx, the weak points or the singularities of men; was master 
 of the art of imperceptibly drawing them into his snare, or leading them 
 into his views ; and of the still more formidable talent of ridiculing 
 everything, even merit, when he wished to depreciate it : finally, the art 
 of enlivening and simplifying the labours of the cabinet, made M. de 
 Maurepas one of the most seductive of ministers.' 
 
 "He was looked upon as a great statesman, merely because he had 
 written four malicious verses against a hated favourite. 'If,' says 
 Marinontel, ' to teach a young prince how to conduct 'business lightly 
 and adroitly, to sport with men and things, to make reigning an 
 amusement, had been all that was requisite, Maurepas was certainly 
 the man for the purpose.' Perhaps it was hoped, that age and misfor- 
 tune had given him greater solidity, constancy, and energy of charac- 
 ter ; but, naturally weak, indolent, and selfish, fond of his comforts, 
 and of rest, desirous that his old age should be honoured and quiet, 
 carefully avoiding everything that could sadden his evening's meal, 
 or disturb his slumbers, scarcely believing in the self-denying virtues, 
 and considering pure public spirit as mere ostentation or chimera ; 
 careless of any conspicuous merit in his administration, making the
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 321 
 
 art of governing to consist in conducting all things quietly, and ever 
 consulting considerations rather than principles, Maurepas was, in his 
 old age, just what he had been in his youth, an agreeable man, intent 
 on his own advantage, a-nd a courtly minister." Biographic Universelle, 
 vol. xxvii. 
 
 Note (R), Page 202. 
 
 "Marie Antoinette could not be accused of having, when on the 
 throne, falsified the favourable idea formed of her virtues, while she 
 lived in a less elevated rank. She continued to manifest, in the inte- 
 rior of her court, the same aversion to etiquette. She gave up neither 
 her walks, nor her visits to Paris. Excepting on days of ceremony, 
 she liked to dress in the plainest manner, but the air of dignity, for 
 which she was remarkable, rendered it easy to guess her rank. 
 
 This plainness began to be warmly censured, at first among the 
 courtiers, and afterwards throughout the rest of the kingdom : and, 
 through one of those inconsistencies, more common in France than 
 elsewhere, all the while the Queen was blamed, she was imitated to a 
 folly. There was not a woman but would have the same undress, the 
 same cap, and the same feathers, as she had been seen to wear. 
 They crowded to one Madame Bertin, her milliner ; there was an abso- 
 lute revolution in the dress of our ladies, which gave a kind of conse- 
 quence to that woman. Long trains, and all those shapes which confer 
 a certain nobleness upon dress, were discarded ; and, at last, a duchess 
 could not be distinguished from an actress. 
 
 The men caught the mania; the upper classes had long before given 
 up feathers, tufts of ribbon, and laced hats, to their lacqueys. They 
 now got rid of red heels and embroidery ; and were pleased to walk 
 about our streets in plain cloth, short thick shoes, and with knotty 
 cudgels in their hands. 
 
 Many got into degrading scrapes, in consequence of this metamor- 
 phosis. Mixed with the mob, and bearing no mark to distinguish them 
 from the common herd, it so happened that some of the lowest classes 
 got into quarrels with them, and in conflict with the rabble, the man 
 of rank had not always the superiority. It was thus that the second 
 order destroyed the respect which had always been paid to it, and 
 hastened that reign of equality which proved so detrimental to it. 
 
 These changes produced a still more serious inconvenience, in their 
 powerful influence over morals; for, on the one hand, there was too 
 strong a taste for the manners and habits of the common people, as 
 well as for those democratical maxims, which tend to bring all to a 
 level ; and, on the other, the common people were habituated to con- 
 tempt, insubordination, and insolence. This is a forcible lesson for 
 those who reign. They too often forget that they do nothing, if they 
 know not the temper of the people they govern perfectly well ; and 
 that it sometimes is with customs adopted from foreigners, as it is with 
 certain plants, which, by mere change of climate, become poisonous." 
 (History of Marie Antoinette, by Montjoie.) 
 
 Note (S), Page 204. 
 
 " The Queen showed herself as little the slave of ceremony in her 
 choice of amusements ; theatrical performances took place in her inner 
 apartments : she condescended to take characters, and those characters
 
 322 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 were not always of the most dignified description ; she also played in 
 comic operas. This sort of amusement was, like her plainness in 
 dress, blamed and imitated ; all classes of society imbibed a taste for 
 theatrical representations ; there was not a man of rank, a financier, 
 nor even a citizen in easy circumstance^, who would be without his 
 theatre, or who would not copy the behaviour of actors, while in it. 
 Formerly a private gentleman would have been disgraced, if suspected 
 of metamorphosing himself into an actor, even in his own circle. The 
 Queen having, by her example, put an end to this salutary prejudice, 
 the very head of the magistracy, unmindful of the dignity of his place, 
 got by heart the lowest comic parts, and performed them. 
 
 The mania, as it became general, gradually filled up the chasm 
 which had always separated actors from the other classes of society; 
 they were associated with more freely, and public morals gained but 
 little by the connection. 
 
 The Queen got through the characters she assumed, indifferently 
 enough ; she could not be ignorant of this, as her performances evidently 
 excited little pleasure. Indeed, one day, while she was thus exhibiting 
 herself, somebody ventured to say, by no means inaudibly, " Well, this 
 is playing royally ill." The lesson was thrown away upon her; for 
 never did she sacrifice to the opinion of another, that which she thought 
 indifferent in itself, or not absolutely forbidden to her. 
 
 Louis XIV. had a similar taste ; he danced upon the stage ; but he 
 had shown, by brilliant actions, that he knew how to enforce respect ; 
 and, besides, he unhesitatingly gave up the amusement in question, 
 from the moment he heard those beautiful lines, in which Racine 
 pointed out how very unworthy of him such pastimes were. 
 
 The Queen was not equally tractable. When she was told, that by 
 her extreme plainness in dress, the nature of her amusements, and her 
 dislike to that splendour which ought always to attend a queen, she 
 gave herself an appearance of levity, which was misinterpreted by a 
 portion of the public: she replied with Madame de Maintenon: "I am 
 upon the stage, and, of course, I shall be either hissed or applauded." 
 (History of Marie Antoinette, by Montjoie.) 
 
 Note (T), Page 206. 
 
 "Franklin was born at Boston, in New England, on the 17th of 
 January, 1706. His father was a tallow-chandler, and he himself was 
 brought up to that trade. At the age of fourteen, burning with a 
 thirst for information, he left the paternal roof for Philadelphia, and 
 succeeded in procuring admission into one of the two printing-houses 
 then in that place,. There he lived for a twelvemonth upon bread and 
 water, in order to enable himself to buy those books which he required 
 for studying the sciences. His progress, and his discoveries, par- 
 ticularly in natural philosophy, procured him a high reputation. It 
 is known, that to him we are indebted for the invention of lightning 
 rods, and for the power of fearlessly attracting and directing the fire 
 of heaven. Study did not occasion him to neglect his fortune. For 
 a long time, he got his livelihood by printing and bookselling. Esteemed 
 by his fellow-citizens, he became post-master general for North America, 
 a lucrative place. He still held it when he appeared in February, 
 1766, before the English House of Commons, on the question as to 
 revoking the stamp duty. He firmly maintained the right of the British
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 323 
 
 Colonies, as being unrepresented in the Parliament of England, to tax 
 themselves." (Historical Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVL, vol. iv.) 
 
 In the same work, we afterwards find the following particulars : 
 
 "Messrs. Deane and Franklin, deputies from the insurgents in 1777, 
 lived at Paris, without retinue, without splendour, and without osten- 
 tation ; they showed a citizen-like plainness. Dr. Franklin was very 
 much sought after, and constantly entertained, not only by his scienti- 
 fic brethren, but by all who could persuade him to visit them ; for he 
 did not easily suffer himself to be drawn out, and lived in a state of 
 privacy, which was supposed to have been enjoined him by his govern- 
 ment. He dressed himself in the very plainest manner. His physiog- 
 nomy was fine, and he constantly wore spectacles : he had but little 
 hair, and always wore a fur cap, no powder ; yet an air of cleanliness, 
 linen perfectly white, and a brown coat, formed the whole outward 
 ornament of his person. His only weapon was a stick which he carried 
 in his hand. 
 
 "Powerfully solicited by Silas Deane and Franklin, the court of 
 France began to take an interest in insurgent America. Beaumarchais, 
 who intrigued with the Count de Maurepas, knew how to profit by cir- 
 cumstances. He was privately authorized to trade in arms with the 
 English colonies. They were partly indebted for the unexpected ad- 
 vantage of the warlike stores necessary for their earliest campaigns, 
 to the influence and activity of that agent. Beaumarchais gained immense 
 sums by selling them at a dear rate, his zeal and services ; and laughed 
 at the accusation, whether well or ill founded, of having sold them worn- 
 out arms, and the worst stores of all kinds. 
 
 " Mr. Deane, tired out by the delays, and even excuses of M. de Sar- 
 tine, then minister of the marine, wrote to him, that unless within forty- 
 eight hours he made up his mind to get the treaty of alliance between 
 France and North America signed, he would negotiate with England 
 for a reconciliation. He adopted this hasty and irregular course, with- 
 out the participation of his colleague. The moment Dr. Franklin heard 
 of it he thought all was lost. 'You have offended the court of France, 
 and ruined America,' exclaimed the philosopher. 'Be easy until we 
 get an answer,' replied the negotiator. ' An answer ! we shall be thrown 
 into the Bastille.' ' That remains to be seen.' 
 
 "After the lapse of a few hours, M. de Sartine's chief secretary made 
 his appearance. 'You are requested, gentlemen, to hold yourselves in 
 readiness for an interview at midnight; you will be called for.' 
 
 " ' At midnight !' cries Doctor Franklin, the moment the secretary had 
 gone, 'my prediction is verified, Mr. Deane, you have ruined all.' 
 
 " They were, of course, called upon at the appointed hour. The 
 American envoys got into a carriage, and reached a country house five 
 leagues from Paris, where M. de Sartine chose to receive them, the 
 better to hide this step under the veil of mystery. They were intro- 
 duced to the minister, and the declaration, so imperiously demanded by 
 Mr. Deane, was instantly signed. 
 
 " The American deputies returned to Paris in triumph ; and Franklin 
 confessed, that in politics patience was not always the only thing to be 
 relied on. 
 
 " AVhen the loss, sustained by the United States of America, was made 
 known in France on the llth of June, 1790, Mirabcau ascended the 
 tribune of the National Assembly, and spoke thus : 
 
 "Franklin is dead ; he is returned to the bosom of the Deity. The
 
 824 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 sage, for whom the two worlds contend, the man claimed both by the 
 history of science, and that of empires, doubtless held a high rank 
 among the human species. Long enough have political bodies notified 
 the deaths of those, great only in their funeral eulogies ; long enough 
 has the etiquette of courts proclaimed mourning for losses unregretted : 
 nations should mourn for their benefactors alone. Congress has ordered 
 throughout the confederate states, a two months' mourning for the death 
 of Franklin. Would it not be worthy of us, gentlemen, to join in this 
 religious act, to contribute to the respect paid in the face of the uni- 
 verse, to the rights of man, and, at the same time, to the philosopher, 
 who has most contributed to spread the assertion of them all over the 
 earth? The ancients would have raised altars to that powerful genius, 
 who, for the good of mortals, grasping in his mind both heaven and 
 earth, learned how to subdue the thunder of the one, and the tyrants 
 of the other. 
 
 " The National Assembly unanimously decreed a public mourning for 
 three days. 
 
 " The municipality of Paris, desirous to do marked homage to the 
 memory of a man, who was animated by genius of science and the 
 love of liberty, had his funeral oration pronounced by the Abb6 Fau- 
 chet, president of the council-general of the commune, in the immense 
 and superb rotunda of the corn-market, in the midst of which a funeral 
 trophy was raised. The whole interior of the rotunda was lined with 
 black ; a candelabra attached to each pillar, a row of lamps above the 
 cornice, and an amphitheatre all round the building, filled with audi- 
 tors in mourning, presented a sight equally majestic and solemn. The 
 National Assembly attended by deputation." 
 
 Note (U), Page 219. 
 
 " The King (of Naples), having attained his eighteenth year, married 
 Maria Caroline of Austria, daughter of the illustrious Maria Theresa 
 (1768). His marriage held out hopes to the Neapolitan nation, that 
 Austria would thenceforward no longer aim at the throne of Naples, and 
 would long leave them at rest. But, from that moment, the influence of 
 the cabinet of Madrid ceased. England and Austria had combined their 
 interests ; and the former, by her commerce, and the latter by alliances, 
 had already assumed the most powerful control over the affairs of Italy. 
 Austria did not neglect the ready means offered by fortune, of securing 
 her own influence, over the court of Naples. It was stipulated, in the 
 contract of marriage between Ferdinand and Caroline, that after the 
 birth of their first son, the young queen should be admitted into the 
 council, form a member of it, and even have a deliberative voice there ; 
 a privilege which she did not fail to claim, as soon as she was entitled 
 to it. It was then, though too late, that Tanucci saw the error he had 
 committed, in not opposing such a clause with all his strength. He 
 endeavoured, however, to elude it; but the Queen, equally penetrating 
 and ambitious, and daily gaining an ascendancy over her husband, 
 discovered the cause of the obstacles thrown in the way of her views, 
 by the improvident minister, and determined to get rid of him. Ta- 
 nucci was very soon turned out of office, mortified even to disgust, and 
 tortured with regret (1777). Like so many others, who preceded him 
 in the most perilous of all careers, he withdrew to end those days 
 which he had, however, spent honourably, in retirement. Though the 
 court was unthankful, the people were grateful, and even to this day
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 326 
 
 his memory is held in veneration. He was the Sully, or the Colbert 
 of the country. 
 
 The Queen had the address to select an easy man, who would lend 
 himself to her views. The Marquis de Sambuca was appointed to suc- 
 ceed the fallen minister ; and thus, according to the not uncommon 
 course, mediocrity filled the place vacated by merit. From this mo- 
 ment, the Queen's power and influence were firmly established. 
 
 Never did any kingdom stand more in need of a naval force, than 
 that of Naples. Even if it were not of consequence to her for the 
 protection of commerce, and for securing the communication between 
 the two Sicilies, it certainly is indispensable, both to repress the auda- 
 city of the African pirates, and to prevent those barbarians from 
 attacking the security and quiet of the Neapolitan shores. The neces- 
 sity of either forming a new marine force, or improving that already 
 in existence, was obvious. The first step was to find out a skilful naval 
 tactician, for the office of minister of marine ; but the government was 
 unwilling to take one, either from Spain or France. The Chevalier 
 Acton had served some time in the navy, but he had experienced mor- 
 tifications in the service, and had left it. He was proposed to the 
 Queen, and was accepted. 
 
 This officer, at that time, commanded the naval force of the Duke of 
 Tuscany. He had acquired some reputation in various expeditions 
 against the people of Barbary, and especially in an enterprise against 
 the Algerines, undertaken by the Spaniards, Neapolitans, and Tuscans, 
 in conjunction. Still young, ambitious, but without genius, and know- 
 ing little more than navigation, he was gifted, by way of compensation, 
 with great docility, and much adroitness : and, by seconding the designs 
 of the Queen, to whom he owed his good fortune, he was not long in 
 entering upon what is called a brilliant career. 
 
 Caroline, who was born ambitious, had the same spirit of innovation 
 as her brother Joseph, without possessing either his talents or philo- 
 sophy. She wanted his masculine perseverance and firmness of dispo- 
 sition. She first ordered, that certain roads, requisite for internal 
 commerce, should be opened, and, in order to defray the expenses, 
 created a tax, which was annually to bring in three hundred thousand 
 ducats : but these useful works were suspended, almost as soon as 
 begun : the produce of the new tax was diverted to other purposes, 
 and although it was to have been only temporary, the receipt of it was 
 continued. 
 
 However, Acton was intrusted with the administration of the navy. 
 A regeneration, or rather a new creation of the whole Neapolitan 
 marine, was expected from him ; and he began with a most grievous 
 error. The great object of a navy at Naples, should be the protection 
 of trade, which mainly consists in exportation of the produce of the 
 country, against the Barbary powers. Acton was wholly intent upon 
 giving ships of the line, and frigates, to a state which principally 
 needed small vessels that hold little water, and are capable of following 
 the pirates wherever they might retreat, into creeks and the most con- 
 fined harbours. This mistake cost the nation considerable sums, and 
 the small vessels which it possessed already, and which, armed as cor- 
 sairs, had become truly formidable to the African pirates, were sacri- 
 ficed with singular imprudence. 
 
 In spite of the ill success of these innovations, alterations, and what 
 were termed improvements, were always going on in the court of
 
 826 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Naples ; and a reform in the military department began to be thought 
 of. According to the ordinances of Charles III., the army was not to 
 consist of fewer than thirty thousand men ; but, as almost always 
 happens in time of peace, when government does not keep a watchful 
 eye upen the army, the effective soliers did not exceed half the pre- 
 scribed number, that is to say, fifteen thousand men. The Chevalier 
 Acton, having procured for himself the administration of the army, as 
 well as that of the navy, increased the number of soldiers, but made 
 no change in the prevailing ruinous system, and took no pains to 
 introduce discipline and good order among the troops. 
 
 But before we trace the minister Acton's methods of re-organizing 
 the army, let us glance over the political events, which occupied the 
 court of Naples for the eight or ten years preceding the period at 
 which we shall see it taking a part among the powers in league against 
 the French nation. 
 
 Doubtless the King of Spain did not see, without uneasiness, that 
 since an Austrian had entered the council of the King his son, he him- 
 self had lost every atom of influence there ; and that England favoured 
 any scheme prejudicial to France, to which latter country, so many 
 circumstances, and particularly the interest of commerce, ought 
 strongly to attach the kingdom of Naples. But Charles III., for a 
 long time, contented himself with merely advising, or remonstrating 
 with moderation, either by letter or embassy : he soon found it neces- 
 sary to speak out, like an incensed father, and indeed almost like a 
 master. 
 
 France was accustomed to buy timber in Calabria ; Acton prevented 
 France from taking any more of it out of the kingdom, upon pretence 
 that it was wanted for the navy he was forming. The court of Ver- 
 sailles dissembled its resentment. 
 
 Just at this time happened the dreadful earthquake in Calabria, by 
 which so many thousands of persons lost their lives, and so many 
 others remained without shelter or food. Upon the news of this dis- 
 aster, the court of France, forgetting all grounds of offence, despatched 
 a frigate laden with wheat, to enable the King of Naples to afford 
 prompt assistance to the wretched inhabitants of the desolated districts. 
 The minister drily refused a gift which certainly had nothing injurious 
 in its nature, and which could not be otherwise than disinterested : so 
 indiscriminate is hatred ! 
 
 This line of conduct towards France so irritated King Charles, that, 
 abandoning his system of forbearance, he ordered his son to dismiss a 
 minister, who thus abused his confidence. Acton, supported by the 
 favour of the Queen, defied the King of Spain's anger, and his orders 
 were disobeyed. The favourite came off in the contest with increased 
 strength. Austria and England were then the only powers received with 
 warmth or consideration at the court of Naples : the envoys of Spain, 
 and of France, met with rebuffs, and often insults. (Memoirs of the 
 Kingdom of Naples, by Count Gregory Orloff, vol. ii.) 
 
 Note (V), Page 248. 
 
 When the news of the attempt made against the King's life became 
 publicly known, the populace evinced the greatest rage and despair. 
 They assembled under the windows of Madame (de Pompadour), utter- 
 ing threatening cries. She began to dread the fate of Madame de 
 Chateauroux. Her friends every moment came in to bring her intelli-
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 827 
 
 gence. Many only came out of curiosity to see how she behaved. She 
 did nothing but weep and faint by turns. Dr. Quesnay saw the King 
 five or six times a day. "There is nothing to fear," said he; "if it 
 were any other person, he might go to a ball." I told Madame, that 
 the keeper of the seals had had an interview with the King, from which 
 he had returned to his own residence, followed by a crowd of people. 
 "And that is a friend!" said she, bursting into tears. The Abbe Bernis 
 said this was not a time to form a precipitate judgment of him. Half 
 an hour afterwards I returned into the drawing-room : the keeper of 
 the seals came in. "How is Madame de Pompadour?" said he, with a 
 cold and severe air: " As you may easily imagine," I replied; and he 
 entered her apartment, where he remained half an hour alone with 
 her. At length she rang ; I went in, followed by the Abbe" Bernis : 
 " I must go, my dear abbe," said she. She gave orders for all her 
 domestics to be ready to set out. To several ladies, who came to con- 
 dole with her, she compared the conduct of M. de Machault, the keeper 
 of the seals, with that of the Duke de Richelieu at Metz. " He believes, 
 or pretends to believe," said she, "that the priests will require me to 
 be sent away with disgrace ; but Quesnay and all the physicians say 
 there is not the slightest danger." 
 
 Madame de Mirepoix came in, crying out, "What are all these trunks 
 for, madame ? Your servants say you are leaving us." "Alas! my 
 dear friend, such is the will of the master, at least so says M. de Ma- 
 chault." "And what is his advice ?" " To set out immediately." " He 
 wishes to be master himself," said Madame de Mirepoix, " and he is 
 betraying you. Whoever leaves the game loses it." 
 
 M. de Marigny afterwards told me, that an appearance of an intended 
 departure would be kept up, to avoid irritating the enemies of Madame : 
 that the little marechale (Madame de Mirepoix) had decided the 
 matter ; and that the keeper of the seals would be the sufferer. Ques- 
 nay came in, and with his usual grimaces, related a fable of a fox, 
 who being at dinner with other animals, persuaded one of them that 
 his enemies were seeking him, and having induced him to withdraw, 
 devoured his share in his absence. I did not see Madame until much 
 later, when she was going to bed. She was more calm, affairs were 
 improving. Machault, that faithless friend, was dismissed. The King 
 came as usual to Madame. A few days afterwards, Madame paid a 
 visit to M. d'Argenson. She returned much out of temper, and the 
 King shortly afterwards arrived. I heard Madame sobbing. The 
 Abbe" Bernis came to me, and desired me to carry her some Hoffman's 
 drops. The King himself prepared the potion with some sugar, and 
 presented it to her with the most gracious air. She smiled, and kissed 
 his hands. I withdrew, and the next day heard of the exile of M. 
 d'Argenson. He was much to blame ; and this was the greatest btretch 
 of Madame's influence. The King was very much attached to M. 
 d'Argenson, and the war by sea and land rendered it very impolitic to 
 discard these two ministers. (Journal of Madame de Hausset.) 
 
 Note (W), Page 254. 
 
 Madame one day called me into her cabinet, where the King waH 
 walking up and down, with a very serious air. "You must," said she, 
 "go and pass a few days in the avenue of St. Cloud, at a house which 
 will be pointed out to you, where you will find a young ]adj ready to 
 
 VOL. i. 29
 
 328 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 lie in. Like one of the goddesses of the poets, you will preside at the 
 birth. The object of your mission is, that everything may take place 
 according to the King's wishes and secretly. You will be present at 
 the christening, and give the names of the father and mother." The 
 King began to laugh, and said, " The father is a very worthy man." 
 Madame added "Beloved by everybody; and adored by all who are 
 acquainted with him." Madame went to a drawer and took out a little 
 casket, which she opened, and produced a diamond aigrette, saying to 
 the King, " I had reasons for not getting a finer one." " It is too hand- 
 some as it is," said the King, embracing Madame, " how kind you are !" 
 She shed tears of emotion, and placing her hand on the King's heart, 
 said, " It is there that my wishes are centered." Tears now came 
 into the King's eyes also ; nor could I refrain from crying, though I 
 scarcely knew why. The King then said to me, " Guimard will see 
 you every day, to advise and assist you, and, at the critical moment, 
 you will send for him. But we have said nothing about the godfather 
 and godmother. You are to announce them, as if they were coming ; 
 and an instant afterwards you will pretend to receive a letter, inform- 
 ing you that they cannot come. You will then pretend not to know 
 what to do ; and Guimard will say, The best way is to have anybody 
 you can get. You will then take the servant of the house, and some 
 pauper or chairman, and give them only twelve francs, to avoid attract- 
 ing notice." "A louis," interrupted Madame, "that you may not 
 make mischief in another way." 
 
 When the King was gone, Madame said to me, " Well, what do you 
 think of my part in this affair ?" " It is that of a superior woman, and 
 an excellent friend," said I. " It is his heart that I wish to possess," 
 answered she ; " and none of these little uneducated girls will deprive 
 me of that. I should not be so tranquil if some beautiful woman of the 
 court were to attempt the conquest." I asked Madame whether the 
 young lady knew that the father of the child was the King. " I do not 
 think so," said she; "but as he seemed to love this one, it is thought 
 that there has been too much readiness to let her know it. Were it 
 not for that, it was to have been insinuated to the world, that the father 
 was a Polish nobleman, related to the Queen ; and that he had apart- 
 ments in the chateau." 
 
 After receiving some additional instructions, I went to the avenue 
 of St. Cloud, where I found the abbess, and Guimard, a servant belong- 
 ing to the chateau, with a nurse and assistant, two old domestics, and 
 a girl half housemaid, half femme de charabre. The young lady was 
 extremely pretty and elegantly dressed, but had nothing very striking 
 in her appearance. I supped with her and the gouvernante, called 
 Madame Bertrand. I gave the lady the aigrette, which delighted her 
 wonderfully. The next day I had a private conversation with her, when 
 she asked me, " How is the count? (meaning the King); he will be 
 very sorry that he cannot be with me ; but he has been obliged to take 
 a long journey." I assented. " He is a very handsome man," con- 
 tinued she, " and loves me with all his heart; he has promised me an 
 annuity, but I love him disinterestedly, and, if he would take me, 1 
 would go to Poland with him." She afterwards talked of her parents. 
 " My mother," said she, "kept a great druggist's shop ; and my father 
 belonged to the six companies, and every one knows there is nothing 
 better than that ; he was twice very near being sheriff."
 
 AND OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. 329 
 
 Six days afterwards she was delivered of a boy, but was told, accord- 
 ing to my instructions, that it was a girl ; and soon afterwards, that 
 it was dead, in order that no trace of its existence might remain for a 
 certain period, after which it was to be restored to its mother. The 
 King gave ten or twelve thousand francs a year to each of his natural 
 children, and they inherited from one another. Seven or eight had 
 already died. When I returned, Madame asked me many questions : 
 " The King," said she, "is disgusted with his princess, and I fancy he 
 will set out for Poland in two days." "And what will become of the 
 young lady?" said I. "She will be married to some country gentle- 
 man," said she ; " and she will have a fortune of forty thousand crowns, 
 or so, and a few diamonds." This little adventure, which thus placed 
 me in the King's confidence, far from procuring me marks of his kind- 
 ness, seemed to make him behave more coolly towards me ; for he was 
 ashamed that I should be acquainted with his low amours. He was 
 also embarrassed about the services which Madame rendered him. 
 
 (Journal of Madame de Hausset.} 
 
 Amongst the young ladies of very tender age, with whom the King 
 amused himself during the influence of Madame de Pompadour, or 
 afterwards, there was also a Mademoiselle Tiercelin, whom his majesty 
 ordered to take the name of Bonneval, the very day she was presented 
 to him. The King was the first who perceived this child, when not 
 above nine years old, in the care of a nurse, in the garden of the Tui- 
 leries, one day when he went in state to his " good city of Paris:" and 
 having, in the evening, spoken of her beauty to Le Bel, the servant 
 applied to M. de Sartine, who traced her out, and bought her of the 
 nurse for a few louis. She was daughter of M. de Tiercelin, a man 
 of quality, who could not patiently endure an affront of this nature. 
 He was, however, compelled to be silent; he was told his child was 
 lost ; and that it would be best for him to submit to the sacrifice, unless 
 he wished to lose his liberty also. 
 
 Mademoiselle Tiercelin, now become Madame de Bonneval, was 
 introduced under that name into the little apartments at Versailles, by 
 the King's desire. She was naturally very wild, and did not like his 
 majesty. " You are an ugly man," said she, throwing the jewels and 
 diamonds, which the King had given her, out of window. The Duke 
 de Choiseul had the weakness to be jealous of this child and her father, 
 who were equally harmless. He was told that the King of Prussia, 
 being tired of Madame de Pompadour, was secretly labouring to get 
 Mademoiselle de Tiercelin declared the King's mistress : the King cer- 
 tainly doted on her. The minister was assured, that M. Tiercelin 
 was engaged in most extensive operations, for effecting the object of 
 this foreign intrigue. The father and daughter were, in consequence, 
 separately confined in the Bastille. (Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis 
 XV., by Soulavie.) 
 
 Note (X), Page 264. 
 
 The dauphin, son of Louis XV., had for several years superintended 
 the education of his three children, the Duke de Berri, afterwards 
 Louis XVI., the Count de Provence, and the Count d'Artois. 
 
 The deportment of the Duke de Berri was austere, serious, reserved, 
 and often rough ; he had no taste for play, exhibitions, or amusements ; 
 he was a youth of inviolable veracity, constantly employing himself,
 
 830 
 
 HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 ftt first, in copying, and afterwards in composing geographica 1 
 and in filing iron. His father had shown a predilection for him 
 excited the jealousy of his brothers. Madame Adelaide, who 
 loved him, used to say, in order to encourage him, and over 
 timidity, "Speak out freely, Bern; shout, scold, make an uproar, 
 brother D'Artois ; knock down my china, and break it ; make some 
 the world." The young Duke de Berri only became the more 
 and could not lay aside his natural character. (Historical and i 
 Memoirs of the Reign of Louis XVI., by Soulavie, vol. ii.) 
 
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