UC-NRLF $B 7fc35 T37 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA Ll wiinarawn _j Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/courtlouisvxducOOmaugrich THE DUC DE LAUZUN ARMAND LOUIS DE GONTAUT f7/i-7-f793 THE DUC DE LAUZUN AND THE COURT OF LOUIS XV. FROM THE FRENCH OF GASTON MAUGRAS WITH PORTRAIT LONDON OSGOOD, McILVAINE & CO. 45, Albemarle Street, W. 1895 [All rights reservecf] DC/J7 .s PEEFACB. In the first chapter of this work will be found the reasons which led me to write the life of the Due de Lauzun. In this short preface I propose merely to refer to the Memoirs of which he is the reputed author, and to discuss their authenticity, which has been frequently disputed. This, briefly, is the history of the manuscript published under the Restoration with the title : Memoires du Due de Lauzun, In 1811 the Imperial police authorities were informed that a manuscript left by the Due de Lauzun was about to be printed, and would give rise to great scandal. The manuscript was seized. Queen Hortense desired to read it, and succeeded in obtaining the loan of it for a few days. She had it copied in all haste ; the original MS. was then returned to the Minister of Police, and burnt, it was said, in the Emperor's private room and under his very eyes. It was from a copy of the copy preserved by Queen Hortense that the first edition of the ^' Memoires de Lauzun " was printed, and published in 1821 by Barrois aine. It produced a great sensa- V 796 tion in society, for several of tlie persons to whom it alluded in no discreet terms were then still living. Indignant protests arose on all sides ; the edition was confiscated, and it was declared to be a forgery. Madame de Genlis went still further: she averred that she had seen and read the true Memoires de Lauzun, and that they bore no resemblance to this *^ infamous libel, written on purpose to disparage the nobility and the old Court." Unluckily Madame de Genlis' word is of no great weight ; she so often distorted the truth that a fib more or less would not trouble her greatly. Moreover, all the protests raised at the time were not so disinterested as to be above suspicion. On this I need not insist ; and without entering on a discussion which is not particularly interesting, I will state in a few lines the reasons which lead me to believe in the authen- ticity of the memoirs. The ground on which they were declared apocry- phal was not their intrinsic improbability, but the way in which they were written and composed, and the freedom with which the author had compromised many of the women of his time. A man so clever as Lauzun, it was said, and at the same time so much a gentleman, could never have produced a document so odious from every point of view. Now I am ready to acknowledge that the Memoires are very ill- written, lengthy, incoherent, often tiresome, and fatiguing to read, but this proves nothing against their genuineness. Written currente calamo, at haphazard, so to speak, and merely for the vi amusement of a mistress, they were never intended for posterity. This indifference to style would rather be a proof of authenticity ; nothing could have been easier than to forge a more attractive and better written work. The second argument is not less easily disposed of. Lauzun, it is said, was too much a gentleman to compromise intentionally so many women of rank. In our day, it is true, the accusation would be a particularly grave one. But it was not so in the eighteenth century. The man who boasted of his conquests was regarded perhaps as wanting in good taste, but he was not otherwise thought ill of, for far less importance attached to moral lapses in those days than in these. And after all, though Lauzim was indiscreet, did he commit the serious crime of compromising undoubted virtue or tarnish- ing spotless reputations? Almost all the women whose favours he complacently records were not novices in such matters ; we have only to open a volume of any memoirs of the period to read a full narrative of their adventures. Much internal evidence can, on the other hand, be adduced in favour of the genuineness of these Memoires, If they were spurious, the writer, instead of showing us Lauzun as a sentimental lover, quite easily fooled by his mistresses, would surely have modelled him on the tradition which represents him as a real profligate, a seducer in the fullest sense of the word. Besides, if he were writing a work of imagination and all he aimed at was notoriety, vii why should he have cut off his hero's adventures in 1783? Why not continue them tiU 1793? Why not have collected any number of scandalous histories ? Nothing would have been easier. In my opinion the authenticity of the Memoires de Lauzun is not open to dispute, and for this reason : in every case, and there are many, in which I have been able to check the Memoires by private docu- ments, I have never found the smallest inaccuracy ; great events, trivial facts, and dates, all are absolutely correct and truthful. Who could have known Lauzun' s private life with such minute accuracy, or have studied it in the smallest details ? On every page of the Memoires we come upon some little incident, recorded as it occurred, to which the writer attaches so little importance that he makes no attempt to account for it; in every case I have found in other documents a confirmation of the statement, and an explanation of the fact. This, in my eyes, is positive proof that Lauzun was the author of the manuscript, since he alone could have written it. I have in many instances borrowed from the Memoires, especially in the early pai't of this work ; but of course I hold the author — that is to say Lauzun — responsible for his assertions. To avoid giving my book an air of studious austerity not in keeping with the subject, I have striven as far as possible to avoid foot-notes. Hence where I have failed to indicate all the published or unpublished authorities, it is merely to save a dis- viii figuring mass of references. I have made extensive use of all our public archives, and of a vast number of private documents, some of which I am unfortu- nately not permitted to name. I have to oiFer my warmest thanks to M. le Marquis de Saint-Blancard, who has kindly allowed the reproduction of the delightful portrait which forms the frontispiece. Numerous and valuable papers were submitted to my investigations by the kindness of the Due d'Audiffi'et-Pasquier, Comte Theodore de Gontaut-Biron and the Marquis d'lme- court. I can only beg them to accept this expression of my gratitude. P.S. — In the translation certain omissions and alterations have been sanctioned by the author. IX CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. FAOX A sketch of French Society in the second half of the eighteenth century ......... 1 CHAPTER II. 1747—1760. The birth of Lauznn — Death of the Marquise de Gontaut — The family of Gontaut-Biron — The Due de Gontaut- Biron — ^The Due and Duchess de Choiseul — The Court of France in 1760 17 CHAPTER III. 1755—1762. Lauzun's education — He joins the Regiment of Guards — Mme. de Gramont — The Comte de Stainville — Mme. de Stain- ville— A journey to Cauterets— M. de Jaucourt . . 48 CHAPTER IV. 1763. Lauzun's betrothal to Mile, de Boufflers — The Marechale de Luxembourg — The Marechale de Mirepoix — Mile, de Beauvau 59 CHAPTER V. 1764—1765. Mme d'Esparbes — Mme. d'Amblimont — Rupture with Mme. d'Esparbes — ^The Due de Chartres — M. de Guemenee — M. de Voyer — Life at Court — Mme. de Stainville . . 68 xi CHAPTER VI. 1764:— 1765. PA.GE The King's journeys — Death of Mme. de Pompadour — Lanzun's illness — The banishment of the Jesuits — ^Death of the Dauphin , . 85 CHAPTER VII. 1766. The Due de Lauzun's marriage — That of the Prince de Guemenee ......... 99 CHAPTER VIII. Mme. de Lauzun's visit to Chanteloup . . . . .106 CHAPTER IX. 1766. Liaison with Mme. de Stainville — the Due de Choiseul — Mme. de Cambis — The Prince de Conti — The Temple — risle-Adam 117 CHAPTER X. 1766—1767. The actors of the eighteenth century- — Clairval and Mme. de Stainville — Mme. de Mirepoix's ball — Mme. de Stain- ville is shut up — Prince de Lamballe's marriage — Death of the Dauphiness 131 CHAPTER XI. 1767. Foreigners at Paris — The English circle — Walpole — Hume — Lady Sarah Bunbury — Her success — Her liaison with Lauzun — She leaves for England — Lauzun follows her — Their quarrel . 140 CHAPTER XII. 1767—1768. Lauzun meets " the Angel " at the Opera — Jean du Barry — Jeanne Vaubemier — Lauzun spends the winter at Chanteloup — Death of the Queen of France — Death of the Prince de Lamballe — Marriage of the Due de Chartres 158 xii CHAPTER XIII. 1768. Fi.GB Preliminaries to the campaign in Corsica .... 167 CHAPTER XIV. 1769. Campaign in Corsica 177 CHAPTER XV. 1768—1769. Events at home during the Corsican campaign — Mme. du Barry — She is presented at Court .... 193 CHAPTER XVI. 1769. Lanzun arrives at Compiegne — A meeting with M. du Barry — ^The Dauphin's marriage .... 206 CHAPTER XVII. 1770. Choiseul's fall 218 CHAPTER XVIII. The Due de Choiseul in banishment — He goes to Chante- loup — Lauzun's arrival with Mme. de Gramont — Their life at Chanteloup — Lauzun returns to Paris — The Dauphiness gives a ball 229 CHAPTER XIX. The visitors to Chanteloup 239 CHAPTER XX. 1771—1773. Life at Chanteloup 252 xiii CHAPTER XXI. The Court in 1771 — The Parlement is suppressed — Banish- ment of the Princes of the blood — The Carnival at Paris — The Ball at the Opera — Sleigh-driving — Marriage of the Comte de Provence — Death of the Due de la Vauguyon — Mme. du Barry's circle — The Duchesses de Mazarin and d'Aiguillon 267 CHAPTER XXII. 1771—1772. M. de Guemenee — Mme. de Rothe — The Comtesse Dillon — The Archbishop of Narbonne — Life at Hautefontaine — Coursing parties — Lauzun leaves for England . . 281 CHAPTER XXIII. 1773. Arrival in London — The Comte de Guines — Princess Czar- toriska — Prince Repnine — Lady Craven — Fashionable life — Lady Harland and her daughter — Horse-racing — Scandal about Lady Craven and the Comte de Guines — The Princess leaves for Spa — The Portsmouth review — Lauzun goes to Spa — The Princess visits Brussels and Holland — Her arrival in Paris 293 CHAPTER XXIV. Quarrel with Prince Repnine — The Prince's departure — Mme. Czartoriska — The King is reconciled to the Princes — The winter of 1773 — Mme. de Forcalquier — Marriage of the Comte d'Artois — Death of M. de Chauvelin — The Princess Czartoriska leaves for Poland — Lauzun accompanies her — His return to Prance — Death of Louis XV 314 CHAPTER XXV. 1774. Lauzun's residence at Mouzon — The state of his fortune — ^A visit to Frascati — To Saverne — Prince Louis de Rohan . 337 Index 359 XIV THE DUG DE LAUZUN AND THE PRIVATE COURT LIFE OF LOUIS XV. CHAPTER I. A sketch of French Society in the second half of the eighteenth centmy. Few men have been judged with so much severity as the Due de Lauzun, and few have deserved it less. Posterity has regarded him as the typical Lovelace, an unfaithful husband, a lover of many mistresses, selfish and heartless, whose sole aim was the pursuit of pleasure. He has been a sort of eighteenth century scapegoat, and his memory bears the burthen of all the sins and iniquities of his contemporaries. I certainly do not propose to exculpate him, or to conceal any of the facts of his career ; but was not profligacy the universal rule in the world in which he lived ? Was not conjugal infidelity recognized ? Regarded as almost indispensable in the husband, and as the lightest of peccadilloes in the wife ? Lauzun was a man of his time ; why blame him for that ? I B But by tlie side of these faults which have been so carefully placed in the foreground, what delightful qualities have been left in the shade. Was not this much-abused Lauzun kind and generous, with refined intelligence and wit, a faithful and trustworthy friend, brave to rashness ? Was there ever a warmer heart, a loftier or more chivalrous soul, a more tender and impassioned lover? "He was brilliant in every way, handsome, brave, generous, and witty," said the Prince de Talleyrand. Fersen, whose valuable evidence is certainly above suspicion, was sincerely attached to him, and after living for several months in his society, could not help exclaiming, " His is the noblest and loftiest soul I know." His contemporaries indeed did more justice to Lauzun than posterity has done ; and I shall rely on them to rehabilitate this delightful personage, and set him in a true light. We will trace our hero's career during the years of his youth, and follow him through the varied adven- tures of his life. And by thus studying his career in all sincerity, we shall perceive how false and unmerited are the prejudices of which he has been the object. The Due de Lauzun was pre-eminently the most complete and brilliant personification of the end of the eighteenth century ; in him we see all its faults, but at the same time all its charm, all its fascination, all its noble and generous impulses. In taking him for the principal figure of this study I have aimed at painting something more than his own stormy and exciting life ; I have tried to reproduce a whole phase of society which was then at the apogee of its glory, and which the tornado of the Revolution presently swept away for ever. There is a melancholy charm in watching the long file of attractive and gracious figures, leading their gay and careless lives when the finger of Fate has already marked them for grievous trials, many of them far the worst that can befall. It was on the very eve of its utter extinction that this society shone with unexampled brilliancy. Other epochs have perhaps produced more men of genius ; but at no other period has there ever been more perfect culture, more exquisite accomplishment in every department of human intellect. Wit has never been better appreciated or more choice. All the fine gentlemen and great ladies who formed the Court and society, were finished men and women of the world ; they were endowed with every grace that can be derived from birth, education, fortune, and tradition ; their one idea was to please — to be amiable and brilliant were the only stepping-stones to success. Conversation as a drawing-room art had reached a maximum of subtlety and courtesy. The pleasures of society were the grand end of life ; to them everything was devoted. The arts, matchless in taste, grace and elegance, had no aim but to beautify the homes of the aristocracy, the delicious boudoirs where friends assembled for gossip, and where endless intrigues had their birth as a natural consequence of daily familiarity and an easy code of morals. 3 B 2 " L' Esprit" — a ready wit — was the divinity of the day ; it enjoyed the influence which in other times has been the privilege of talent. It covered, indeed, a multitude of sins. Every blunder, every vice, if frankly admitted and confessed in a witty manner, was certain of the largest indulgence. There was but one unpardonable sin: to be ridiculous. The Due de Guines said to his two daughters the day they were presented at Court : " Remember, my children, that in this country vice is overlooked, but that to be ridiculous is death." When there was an opening for a repartee, neither relations nor friends were spared. The Marechal de Noailles had a reputation for very doubtful courage. One day, when it was raining, the King asked the Due d'Ayen whether the Marechal was coming out hunting : *' Oh dear no, Sir, my father dreads water as he dreads fire ! " and the witticism was immensely applauded. Still, wit alone was not enough to secure social success ; le bon air — good style — was also requisite ; a tone of distinction, a great dignity and elegance of demeanour, a fine taste in dress and furniture, and in entertaining at home. If you wanted to belong to the best society you must have bon air. If you failed in the accepted code of manners you were a mere espece — a specimen, in modern slang. This refinement of wit and elegance insensibly led to the supremacy of woman. Everjrfching was for her and by her. At no other period has her dominion been more absolute or more frankly 4 paraded ; her influence, her despotism, are visible in everything that the eighteenth century has be- queathed to us. Books, engravings, correspondence, memoirs, the fine arts — everything bears the stamp of a life of pleasure and luxury in which woman plays a leading part. This absolute and undisputed sovereignty places man in a subordinate position ; he is at the feet of woman, the all-powerful disposer of his fate. The reign of woman leads to the reign of love. Love becomes the exclusive passion, the sole aim and end of life. How can a woman resist the fascinations that en- compass her? What bridle can restrain her from irremediable lapses ? Not the conjugal tie for which the husband flaunts his contempt, which it is, indeed, "good style" to treat as a mere farce. Conjugal love is regarded as a weakness beneath any person of good birth, useful at most to humble folk who cannot rise superior to prejudice. Young husbands even studiously neglected their wives, and deliberately avoided showing them any attention or consideration, for fear of impertinent comment. Profligacy Avas almost a necessity, and this extraordinary state of things gave rise to this whimsical retort from a sentimental young man who was rallied by his friends : "How can I help it if I love the woman I love better than the woman I don't love?" Marriage was no more than a bargain, a family arrangement, a ceremony useful to consolidate a fortune. 5 Lauzun, in being but an indifferent husband, was therefore in no respect distinguished from his con- temporaries, and it would be unfair to blame him for a line of conduct which was the universal rule. We have seen the view of conjugal fidelity which obtained among men ; let us now inquire what the wives thought of the matter. Young girls were almost all brought up in convents ; but rumours of the outside world penetrated these sacred retreats, and echoes of Court scandals and intrigues often came to trouble their young heads. Long before entering on life they were fully edified as to what to expect from it ; they knew that no woman loved her husband, that this was a misfortune common to all, and for which consolation was at hand. Nor were parents at all overwhelmed by the thought that their children would probably some day share the failings of the time. Witness the witty reply of d'Argenson in speaking of his niece. Mademoiselle de Berelle, who, while still very young, showed a bright wit joined to a lovely face. He was congratulated on having a young relation who combined so many attractions. " Yes," said he, with a smile, " we may hope that she will give us a vast amount of trouble." Indeed, how could love have been possible as a condition of marriage? On leaving the convent, a young girl was married to a man whom she did not know, whom, generally, she had never seen, and who had been selected by her parents simply in considera- tion of his rank and fortune. At the end of a few days she found herself neglected and deceived ; devoid 6 of all moral support and bereft of protection, sur- rounded by the worst examples, the object of endless incitement, she was ill-equipped to make any resist- ance to her natural inclinations. " I cannot condemn a woman when she loves and is tenderly loved," says Madame X. to a friend. " And between ourselves I may say I do not know how she should resist." And in fact she did not resist. As to the exceptional wives who remained faithful, they got small credit for their virtue. " Faithful wives become simpletons," said M. de Boissi. In fact a faithful wife seemed so amazing a phenomenon that the Prince de Ligne could write : " The best conducted woman has her master ; if she is still virtuous it is because she has not met him." And he adds with keen insight, " It is that other half of one's self which we are always seeking, that leads us to commit so many follies." Young men thought only of love-making, and every woman was the object of their addresses. "You are about to go into the world," said Mme. de Montmorin to her son, " I have only one piece of advice to give you ; be in love with every woman you meet." And the notion of having a lover was to a young wife perfectly simple, a matter of course. When Mme. de M. quarrelled with the Vicomte de Noailles she was in despair, and exclaimed with amusing candour, " I shall have plenty of lovers I dare say, but I shall never have one I can love as much as I loved M. de Noailles." This was the moral code of the time. Then did the misconduct of a wife lead the hus- band to take justice into his own hands ? Did it end in those secret murders so much approved in our day as avenging, it would seem, the moral standard and the husband's honour, both equally outraged ? Nothing of the kind. The husband was prudent enough not to exact in his wife a degree of virtue which he did not pretend to. The law indeed placed a potent weapon in his hands ; if he brought proof of infidelity he could obtain a lettre de cachet and lock up the guilty lady in a convent for the remainder of her days. But he rarely asserted his rights. Such cases can be counted. At the same time, though each led a life apart and they chose their own society and amusements, they never failed in mutual courtesy ; before the world their behaviour was faultless. These few instances show very plainly what were the morals and manners of the time. The reign of love entailed the reign of pleasure ; the abuse of lofty and impassioned sentiment had worn it very thin ; its extravagances were ridiculed and laughed at; it had made way for vicious indulgence, and caprice had taken the place of sentiments of eternal regard. Sometimes, but rarely, it must be confessed, affection grew out of intimacy, and a couple would live together with mutual indulgence. Such an attachment was designated as " respectable." In one of M. de Forcalquier's comedies, a moralizing valet, speaking of his master's behaviour to women, says : 8 " As he could esteem none, he made up his mind to be in love with all." And this was the plan generally followed. Hence we must not attribute to Lauzun's love passages more importance than they deserve. This excessive license of manners was not exclu- sively the stamp of French society, as often seems to be supposed. No less liberty prevailed at every court in Europe, and sovereigns set the example of the utmost profligacy. The courts of Russia, Prussia, England, Saxony, Portugal, Spain, Denmark, Parma and others, were the scenes of such gross scandals that Versailles might almost seem the last refuge of virtue. A wife might have found a safeguard in her children ; but unfortunately she never saw them, the traditions of the aristocracy precluding all domestic intimacy and familiarity. As soon as they were bom they were put out to nurse ; subsequently, when they were restored to their parents' roof, they were left to the care of hirelings till the girls were sent to be educated in a convent, and the boys to school or to a tutor. And if children had no more influence than marriage as a check on immorality, neither had reHgion. It had no existence in the heart; and though its outward forms were observed, it was only as a mark of fashion and education. The higher clergy themselves set the example of impiety. The best appointments, reserved for the younger sons of the nobility, were merely fat sinecures; but as to fulfilling the duties of their 9 offices, no one would have thought of such a thing.^ They took pleasure in undermining every belief and destroying every object they had once adored. '* Good folks," writes Walpole, " they have no time to laugh. There is God and the King to be pulled down first; and men and women one and all are devoutly employed in the demolition." . . . ^' The philosophers preach incessantly, and their avowed doctrine is atheism. Voltaire himself does not satisfy them. One of their lady devotees said of him : 11 est bigot, cest un deiste^ ^ "What had become of religion at a time when, in an intimate circle, a young woman could boldly declare herself an atheist, and dare to add with a smile on her lips : " You must never tell a lover that you do not believe in God; but as to your husband, it does not signify. With a lover you can never tell what may happen, you must always leave a door open for escape ; a pious fit, a scruple of conscience puts an end to everything ; and you need have no fear of scandal or tempers with such a reason for a change." And another young woman of two-and-twenty, 1 Grimm tells an anecdote wliicli amusingly illustrates the small importance attached to religion in the life of the time. A lady having occasion to speak with the Chevalier de Lorenzi, appointed one Sunday at eleven in the morning for a meeting. Their con- versation ended, she proposed that they should attend Mass. The Chevalier in surprise asked : " Do they still perform Mass ? " As he had not been to Mass for above fifteen years he supposed it had ceased to be customary, and even that it was no longer said. He never left his house before two o'clock, and could not remember ever having seen a church open. 2 Walpole's Letters — to Brand and Gray, October 19, 1765. lO fully conscious, seeing death at hand, could firmly repulse a priest sent for in haste, saying : " If I were not so ill I might be amused by his silly talk, but I have not the heart." Is not this one of the most sadly characteristic anecdotes of the time ? Indifference was at a climax. Someone said to a bishop : '' You ought to be quite happy now ; sacrilege has ceased to exist." To which he replied : '' Would to God I could hear of it from time to time ; at any rate we should be in men's thoughts." The belief in God was dead ; but as the marvellous and the supernatural are inherent in human nature, men were ready to believe in Mesmer, in Cagliostro, in magic, in the fatality of Friday, in fortune tellers. StiU, professed infidels continued to regard religion as a mark of good style, and above all as a necessary check on the lower orders. This was in fact an elementary principle of self-preservation, for the rich man devoid of religion discovered that he was robbed by servants devoid of religion. So this sceptical and atheistic society preserved the external semblance of worship, and endeavoured to inculcate in the people the very creed at which it laughed. The aristocracy attended Mass, took the sacrament, and called the priest to their death-bed ; on certain days in the year and grand jubilees they crowded to the churches ; on high festivals and Corpus Christi day, Cardinals and bishops, Blue ribands, Presidents in red robes, every order in the State collected to follow the Host; the procession was formed with solemn pomp, the cannon roared, the soldiers II presented arms, all the bystanders fell piously on their knees. No one would pretermit these religious observances ; but how many of these wretched worshippers were atheists ! And then, now and again, in proof of the sincerity of their conviction, this same society would break some unbeliever on the wheel. Witness the hapless La Barre. An incident which happened to Marmontel shows the ideas at that time cuiTent. Marmontel had been lodged in the Bastille for some squabble with the Due d'Aumont. M. de Choiseul had given orders that he was to be treated with the greatest considera- tion. He had no sooner arrived than his gaolers served up dinner. It was a Friday ; the dinner was without meat, but very good. Marmontel dined, waited on by his servant, who shared his prison. As he rose from table the two gaolers reappeared with pyramids of fresh dishes, fine linen, silver plate, and a dinner of meat : a slice of beef, a capon, soup, and so forth. Marmontel had, without suspecting it, eaten the dinner meant for his servant. They would never have dared to serve him a fast-day meal. This short account is enough to show how widely our grandfathers' views differed from ours on every essential circumstance of life : love, marriage, the family and religion. How can a change so radical and so rapid be accounted for ? In point of fact this essentially superfine civiliza- 12 tion, which I have tried to sketch in vivid outlines, vanished suddenly ; the whole structure crumbled at a blow without leaving a trace. The revolutionary hatchet was not content, it would seem, with cutting off aristocratic heads, it severed at the same stroke and irremediably every link with the past. Letters, arts, decoration, costume, manners, hon air, elegance — all that constituted the charm, all that was the flower of human intellect and civilization was swept away. Peaceful homes would presently come again, but the shock had been so violent that nothing of the past would be recoverable. A brand-new society would rise on the pile of ruins, but it would have no bond of union with that which had preceded it ; cen- turies might have come between them. Under the conditions of such a violent transforma- tion it is not astonishing that manners should have undergone a modification not less complete. This is the reason why the habits and customs of that period are to us so exceedingly amazing. We find it so difii- cult to reconcile ourselves to them, that, instead of simply admitting that our grandfathers were the men of their time, we vainly endeavour to make their practice square with our present standard. For a long time the eighteenth century was held reprobate ; then it became the fashion to try to rehabilitate it, and to represent it as a period of correct manners, wickedly calumniated on the strength of certain more or less scandalous memoirs. Alas ! I greatly fear that the eighteenth century, as viewed through that veil of candour and family 13 virtue, is no more than a generous illusion. Every- thing is adverse to such an optimistic belief. And why, after all, should that phase of society be bereft of what in fact constituted its character, its originality and its charm ? Why dress up our ancestors in our homely virtues of which they knew nothing ? Do not let us try to muffle them in such a guise ; they would have found it very inconvenient and unpleasing. Leave them what became them so well : light-heartedness, charm and grace, and do not take them out of an environment in which they lived quite happy. Notwithstanding all the charges which our morose austerity can bring against them, how can we help being fascinated by the witchery of that society, so courteous, cultivated and polite, so passionately addicted to intellectual pleasures? They were all light-hearted, amusing and witty, as no one is now ! Noble, generous and chivalrous, base ideas were un- known to them ; they scorned money and all the meanness that comes of it. Nor was this imperturb- able serenity the gift of youth alone ; it lasted to advanced age. But did our ancestors ever grow old ? It was the Revolution that brought old age into the world. " The art of living and of dying was understood in those days," says Aurore de Saxe very gracefully. " No one owned to disabling infirmities. If you had the gout, you walked all the same and made no grimaces. You dissembled your sufferings from good breeding. No one had those absorbing thoughts of business which spoil intimacy and dull H the wits. A gentleman could ruin himself without wincing, like splendid gamblers who lose without betraying anxiety or annoyance. When half-dead a man would still be carried out hunting, and would have thought it better to die at a ball or at a play, than in his bed, with tapers at the head and ugly black priests about him." In short, to these agreeable epicureans, life was a continual holiday, a brief journey which must be made as gaily as possible; and without absolutely denying the joys to come, for greater security they made a paradise of this world. Display, fetes, pleasure, war and love — these made up their life. It was a period of brilliant intrigue and frenzied passion, of which our better regulated world now speaks only with reserve. It was a time when life was so AveU worth living that all who sur- vived it mourned it bitterly. " Those who knew not life before 1789," said M. de Talleyrand, " have never known its sweetness." Their point of view and ours are diametrically opposed. Were they madmen and are we so wise ? It is not my concern to decide. Still, is it not certain that during the past hundred years, under the cloak of morality and religion, we have made life singularly gloomy, have managed to render it dull and monotonous, and eliminate all its hours of joy and sweetness ? The Prince de Ligne, who had shone with the brightest at the time of which I am writing, was still living at the beginning of our cen- tury ; he watched the tendency of ideas, and he sadly IS penned these lines, full of profound truth : " They have made a crime of all that is most delightful. Nature had never dreamed of it ; they have dragged in honour, reputation, propriety, self-conscious virtue. Where there are contingencies, formalities, propin- quity, and then a little folly, time passes very happily, and it is so much snatched from the vexatious hours of life ; but they live as if we could live twice over : they run after reputation," and he adds, bitterly : *^ It is a wisdom which will bring us to the lunatic asylum, the very madness of reason." Then was this society — so reckless, refined and rejoicing in life — really so much more worthless than our own ? Shall we not see these frivolous courtiers, these delicate women, so lately steeped in pleasure, or victims to the " vapours," in the tragic times of the Revolution stoically enduring ruin, penury, exile, and prison ? Shall we not see them mount the scaiFold with a smile on their lips, without a cry, without a tear, without a lament ? What an end to such a life ! It is well to recall the state of morals in the second half of the eighteenth century, to enable the reader to pass judgment on our personages with greater justice and confidence. 1$ CHAPTER II. 1747—1760. The birth of Lauzun — Death of the Marquise de Gontaut — The family of Gontaut-Bii-on — The Due de Gontaut-Biron — ^The Due and Duchess de Choiseul — The Court of France in 1760. In the year of Grace. 1747, on the 13th of April, a happy event had brought together the principal members of the noble family of Gontaut-Biron, in the family mansion. Rue de Richelieu, Paris. That morning the young Marquise de Gontaut had given birth to a boy. The advent of this heir, so eagerly hoped for, filled the whole family with joy, for they had feared, and not without reason, that the glorious name of Biron might become extinct. The baptism took place that day. The infant's godfather was his paternal grand- father, the Due de Biron, premier Marshal of France ; his godmother was his maternal grandmother, the Marquise du Chatel. He was baptized by the names of Armand-Louis, and inscribed in the register of Saint-Eustache, the parish in which his parents lived.* ^ Extract fi'om the baptismal register of the parish church of Saint-Eustache, Paris : — " In the year 1747, April the 13th, was baptized Armand-Louis. born that same day, son of the very high and mighty Seigneur 17 C Armand-Louis de Gontaut-Biron was the first boy born to the family ; it may therefore be imagined with what joy he was welcomed, and what hopes were founded on the precious child. As the only heir to an illustrious race, he naturally seemed called to the most splendid destiny. A melancholy catastrophe unexpectedly turned all this rejoicing into deep mourning. The day after the birth of the child the Marquise de Gontaut was attacked by severe fever. At first it was hoped that the malady might be conquered, but on the third day the hapless young mother succumbed, at the age of just nineteen and a half. She was buried at Saint- Eustache on the 1 8th April. Armand-Louis de Gontaut was put out to nurse, as was the universal practice at the time. "Family cares had not yet become the fashion." Talleyrand tells us that the same lot was his, and that he remained Monseigneur Charles-Antoine Marquis de Gontaut de Biron, Marshal of the King's camps and armies, and of the very high and mighty lady Antoinette-Eustachie Crozat du Chatel, his wife, living in the Rue de Richelieu. " Godfather : the very high and mighty Seigneur Monseigneur Charles- Armand de Gontaut, Due and premier Marshal of France, Knight of the King's Orders (the Orders of Saint Michael and of the Holy Ghost were called les Ordres du Roi), etc., etc. " Godmother : the very high and mighty lady Marie-Therese- Catherine Gouffier, wife of the very high and mighty Seigneur Monseigneur Louis Crozat, Marquis du Chatel, Lieutenant-General of the King's forces, etc." (All signed.) Notwithstanding this perfectly accurate and formal registration, Armand-Louis de Gontaut-Biron was mentioned in various docu- ments by the name of Louis-Charles, and it became needful on the 27th of June, 1754, to set forth, by an act of identification, that a mistake had been made, and that the child's name was certainly Armand-Louis, and not Louis- Charles. (Archives Rationales, T, 478.) i8 in a suburb of Paris till he was four years old. It was customary for the children of families attached to the Court. Nor was the practice " the outcome of indifference ; but of that disposition of mind which leads men to choose the course which is most important of all : to do and to be like everybody else. Too excessive care would have looked pedantic ; too much expression of tenderness would have seemed some- thing too novel, and consequently ridiculous. At that period children were the heirs of the family name and arms. Enough was done for them, it was thought, by providing for their advancement, getting them places and some entailed property, by arranging for their marriage and improving their fortune." ^ We may turn from Lauzun's infant years, which can have no interest for us, and before entering on the narrative of his singular and agitated life, con- sider the family to which he belonged, and its more important members at this period. As we shall constantly meet them again, it will be well to be familiar with their personal and mental individuality. The family of Gontaut-Biron is one of the oldest and most illustrious of Guienne.^ As early as in the eleventh century the name figures honourably in the pompous pages of history. In the reign of Henri IV. its fortunes were splendid. After doing eminent service to the King, Armand de Gontaut, Baron de Biron,' 1 Memoires de Talleyrand, vol. i. p. 7. 2 It derives its name from the little town of Biix)n, in the hills of Perigord. The arms are : quarterly or and gules ; the shield square. 3 1524-1592. He had also served with distinction under Charles IX. and Henri III., and earned the rank of Marshal of 19 c 2 fell gloriously at the siege of Epernay, his head carried off by a cannon-ball/ As Admiral, Marshal of France, Duke and peer, and Governor of Burgundy, his son Charles de Gontaut was still not satisfied with the benefits heaped upon him by the King. He conspired with Spain, was arrested, and decapitated July 31, 1602, aged forty. Throughout the seventeenth century we hear nothing of the Birons. Charles Armand de Gontaut (1663-1756) redeemed his family from the voluntary obscurity it had chosen for its lot during so many years; he restored the name of Biron to glory and renown. Equerry to the Regent, Duke and peer, and Marshal of France, he was still living at the time of which Ave are speaking, France, and the Order of the Holy Ghost. It was in consequence of his skilful tactics that the King won the battles of Arques and Ivry. 1 He had four sons. Charles, the eldest, inherited his father's great qualities ; energetic, prudent, and brave, he owed to his merits his advancement successively to be Admiral, Marshal of France, Knight of the King's Orders, and, in 1598, Duke and peer of the realm. But in 1602, when at the height of honour, he allowed himself to be inveigled by the Duke of Savoy, who offered him his daughter in marriage and promised him an independent province. Impeached before the parlement, he was condemned to be beheaded. He was only forty years of age and could show thirty-two scars. Henri IV., oblivious of the services he had rendered to the crown, refused the pardon for which his relatives petitioned. "Such punishment," he said, "does not disgrace a family. I am not ashamed of my descent from the Armagnacs and the Comte de Saint-Pol who perished on the scaffold." Charles de Gontaut was unmarried. His younger brother Alexandre, Baron de Saint- Blancard, was killed at Antwerp in 1583, just eighteen years old. The thii'd, Jean, the ancestor of the Due de Lauzun, died in 1636. The fourth son, Armand, Baron de Saint-Blancard, was the progenitor of the only branch of the family now extant, Lauzun having died on the scaffold in 1793 leaving no children. 20 and we have seen him standing sponsor at the font for his grandson, Armand Louis. As premier Marshal of France and of all the generals of the army, the Due de Biron was, next to the King, the highest military personage in the kingdom. He had married Marie Antoinette de Bautru,^ daughter of a sister of the Due de Lauzun, and of Armand Comte de Nogent-le-Roi. It was this marriage that brought the title of Due de Lauzun into the Biron family.^ Providence, who favours large families, had not stinted the Marechal de Biron and Antoinette his wife of gifts in this kind. Twenty-six children were bom of their union, six of them girls.^ ^ She died August 4, 1742. Her mother had lived at the Courts of LouLS XIII. and Louis XIV. After Mazaiin's pm- motion to be Minister she refused to be called by her husband's name, because, she said, the Cardinal made her ridiculous by pronouncing it in the Italian manner. She called herself Mme. de Nogent. 2 The Comte of Lauzun, in the gcncralite (or government) of Bordeaux, was raised to a duchy in the month of May, 1692, in favour of Antoine Nompar de Caumont, captain of the hundred gentlemen-at-arms at Bee de Corbin, Lieutenant-General of the King's forces, Knight of the Garter, etc. He bore for arms : Tierced in bend or gules and azure. The loves of the Due de Lauzun and Mile, de Montpensier, the disgi^ace of the audacious courtier, his imprisonment, and subsequent success at the Court of James II., are matters of history. He died in 1723 at the age of ninety, leaving his vast fortune and the duchy of Lauzun to his niece, Antoinette de Bautru, wife of the Marechal de Biron. 3 These six, who grew up, were I., Fran9oise Magdelene, ob. March 17, 1739. She married Jean Louis Dasson, Marquis de Bonnac, ambassador to Constantinople. — II. Judith Charlotte, ob. April 20, 1741. She mamed Claude Alexandre, Comte de Bonneval, Lieutenant-General in the Imperial Army, and generalissimo of the Ottoman troops. — III. Genevieve, ob. in 1756. Married Louis, Due de Gramont. — IV. Marie Antoine Victoire, ob. in 1752. Married Louis Claude Scipion de Beauvoir. — V. Marie- 21 We shall follow the fortunes only of the four sons who lived to grow up, the youngest of whom was our hero's father. The eldest died early ; ^ the second, Jean Louis, renounced the title and entered the priesthood. The third son, Louis Antoine de Gontaut, took the title and name of Due de Biron after the death and retirement of his seniors. Colonel of the Biron regiment, then Marechal de camp, Lieutenant- General, Knight of the King's Orders, he was appointed in May, 1745, to the envied post of Colonel of the Regiment of Gardes Frangaises, the finest military appointment in the kingdom. He had married in 1740 Pauline Fran9oise de la Rochefoucauld de Roye, but they had no children. He was a comely gentleman, noted for his polite- ness and elegance, which recalled the manners of Louis XIV.'s time — Le grand siecle. " He had a majestic person, a very handsome face, and the most imposing manners I ever beheld," says Madame de Genlis. '^Brutus has been called the last of the Romans, and it may be said of the Marechal de Biron that he was the last fanatic for Royalty. And he certainly was born to figure at a Court, to wear the Ren e, ob. Marcli 23, 1747. Married Charles Eleonor Colbert, Comte de Seignelai. — VI. Charlotte Antoine, ob. July 16, 1740. Married Louis du Bouchet, Marquis de Sourches, Lieutenant- General. 1 Charles-Fran9ois-Armand de Gontaut, ob. January 28, 1736, leaving one son, Antoine Charles de Gontaut de Biron, Due de Lauzun, and one daughter, Louise Antoinette. The son, who took the title of Due de Lauzun, died unmarried. May 17, 1739. The daughter, who married Fran9ois Michel Cesar Le Tellier, Marquis de Courtenvaux, died in 1737. 22 blue riband of an order, and to address a king with grace and nobleness." He had plenty of good sense, rectitude and loyalty were stamped on his handsome countenance, he loved the world, and was fond, it is said, of narrating his successes. " He is the most undaunted courtier and anecdote teller I ever saw in my life," says Chevemy. And he had in fact displayed splendid courage in battle and was adored by his men. The regiment of guards was never maintained in such style as during his time. The old Marechal de Biron's fourth son was Charles Antoine Armand, Marquis, and subsequently Due de Gontaut.' He served with distinction as Brigadier of the King's forces, and was severely wounded at the battle of Dettingen (June 2, 1743) at the same time with his friends, the Prince de Dombes, the Comte d'Eu, the Dues d'Harcourt and de Bouiflers. He retired from the service, and married, January 21, 1744, Antoinette Eustachie Crozat du Chatel, one of the richest heiresses in Paris. Mile, du Chatel, then aged sixteen, was tall and well made, and her features were pleasing, but she lacked grace. Three years later, as we have seen, she died in giving birth to a son who at first bore the title of Comte de Biron, and later, at the age of twenty, took that of Due de Lauzun. To avoid confusion we shall ^ Charles Antoine Armand de Gontaut, bom September 8, 1708, known at first as Marqnis de Montf errant, and afterwards as Marqnis de Gontaut, was made Colonel of the Mailly Regiment in 1735, Brigadier of the King's forces in 1743, Marechal de camp in 1745, Lieutenant-General in 1748, Governor of Languedoc in 1757. He was created Due de Gontaut by brevet of August 26, 1758. 23 here call him throughout by the name under which he became famous. The old Mar^chal de Biron, who died in 1756, had the satisfaction of seeing this, his only grandson and sole heir to the house of Biron, grow to the age of ten — the scion on whom were centred all the hopes of that branch of the family. Lauzun's father, M. de Gontaut, was a kind and amiable man. " My father," says his son, " was a perfectly good-hearted man, with a pitiful and charitable heart, and a candid devotion which he did not force on others. He was not remarkable for brilliant parts, and still less for culture ; but his sound and upright good sense, immense experience of the world and the Court, extremely good style, dignified and agreeable mode of speech, with natural high spirits, an aversion for intrigue and most moderate ambitions, made him an amiable man and much sought after." After retiring from the service, M. de Gontaut settled at Court. It was under the reign of Mme. de Chateauroux,^ and he became the favourite's fast friend. When she fell ill he lavished on her a care which could not save her. The King, touched by his devotion, and believing himself inconsolable, made him the confidant of his grief, and it was to him that he made the speech, so full of naif egotism : " Now I am left wretched till I am ninety — for I am certain I shall live to that age." ^ Marie Anne de Mailly-Nesle, created Duchesse de Chateauroux in 1744. She died December 8 of that year. When the Marquise de Pompadour succeeded Mme. de Chateauroux, M. de Gontaut found no less favour with the new mistress. He was, in fact, a representative type of the courtier ; pliant, amiable and amusing, he had the art of making himself indispensable, and while yielding to his masters wishes, could, nevertheless, preserve to a certain extent his dignity and independence. '' He was very gay, and reputed to be the cause of gaiety," Mme. du Hausset writes rather mischievously ; " he was, as somebody said, a useful piece of furniture for a favourite ; he makes her laugh, and never asks for anything for himself or for others ; he can never cause jealousy and never interferes." In fact, far from taking advantage of his influence, he did not even make any use of it, asking no more than some little favours which made him popular and proved the benevolence of his character. He had no ambition but to live pleasantly in a social circle that he liked, and where he found much to charm him. He scarcely ever left Mme. de Pompadour, and was her most assiduous companion. He attended her in her walks, in her mysterious visits to more or less clairvoyant somnambulists, sorceresses as they were then called.^ When the favourite first intro- duced private theatricals in the petit cabinets^^ M. 1 Mme. de Pompadour had the greatest belief in fortune-telling by coffee-grounds, and was constantly consulting somnambulists. One had foretold that she would become the King's mistress, and she allowed her six hundred livres a year (£24). 2 The King's small private rooms. 25 de Gontaut figured in the first rank of the dis- interested performers ; he played — and not without distinction — the parts of Cleante in Tartufe, Jasmin in L^ Enfant Prodigue, Champagne in Les Dehors Trompeurs, Frontin in Le Mechant, and others. To say that M. de Gontaut never used his influence for himself or for others is not strictly accurate. There was a man in whose service all his interest was brought to bear, and on whom he heaped every favour he could command ; this was his brother-in-law the Marquis de Stainville, after- wards the Due de Choiseul.^ The reasons for this exclusive and deeply rooted affection are not at first sight perfectly clear. Indeed, if we may believe the indiscreet chronicles of his contemporaries, M. de Stain ville had been the lover, *' and the passionately beloved lover of Mme. de Gontaut," in fact, there was no doubt that Lauzun was his son.^ Mme. de Gontaut's devotion had most unexpected results ; before she died, the poor soul, to secure the fortune of the man she loved, extorted from her sister, then but twelve years old, a promise to marry Stain ville. The promise was faithfully kept ; on December 22, 1750, the young girl became Marquise de Stainville ; she brought him a fortune of 120,000 livres a year (nearly £5000). We shall so frequently have occasion to mention 1 He was the son of the Marquis Frangois Joseph de Stainvil e and Marie de Bassompierre. 2 Memoires de Talleyrand. 26 the Due and Duchesse de Choiseul, and shall see them playing so important a part in the life of Lauzun, that we must insert a brief sketch of these two persons, both so attractive, though for very different reasons. M. de Stainville came of a good but impoverished family in Lorraine, and at first served in the army. He lived at Paris in the highest circles, and his delightful wit won him much success. He was introduced by M. de Gontaut to the intimacy of the favourite, and spared no efforts to please her ; but he had a reputation for a keen tongue, and Mme. de Pompadour did not trust him.^ An unforeseen circumstance, which throws a strange light on the ideas of honour current at the time, first won him her good graces. There was at Court a cousin of M. de Stainville' s, the Comtesse de Choiseul-Romanet, as lovely as an angel, gentle, well-conducted and faithful. The King paid his court to her and wrote her several ardent letters. Mme. de Pompadour, aware of this royal caprice, and very uneasy as to the issue, begged M. de Stainville to find some means of dis- enchanting the King. ^* This was enoagh. M. de Stainville exerted all his powers of attraction, and Mme. de Choiseul-Romanet was won. He then affected jealousy, and by skilful by-play obtained possession of the Kifig's letters. He had no sooner got them than he carried them to the Marquise, who 1 It was said that from him Gresset drew the hero of his comedy Le Mechant, 27 made such triumphant use of them that Louis XV. was convinced, and gave up this new caprice." ^ Three months later Mme. de Choiseul-Romanet died of malignant fever, and a report was spread that M. de Stainville had had her poisoned. This, however, was an atrocious calumny. Henceforward he was in the highest favour. Mme. de Pompadour procured him diplomatic employment, and at first he was sent to Rome ; he was a great success there, notwithstanding a freedom of demeanour which was in singular contrast to the gravity of the pontifical Court. From Rome he was transferred to Vienna, where he soon won the good graces of the Empress Maria-Theresa. In 1758 the King made him Minister of Foreign Affairs, as successor to Cardinal de Bernis. Thanks to M. de Gontaut's friendship and the protection of the favourite, he was loaded with honours and dignities.^ The post of Colonel General of the Swiss and Grison Guard was worth more than 100,000 francs a year (£4000). The Due de Gontaut obtained this also for his brother-in-law. The scene took place in Mme. de Pompadour's room, and is worthy of record. M. de Gontaut is talking to the Comtesse d'Amblimont. Suddenly he exclaims : "D'Amblimont, to whom are you going to give the Swiss Guards ? " 1 Memoires de CJieverny. 2 Created Due de Choiseul, peer of the realm, Kniglit of the King's Orders, and of the Golden Fleece ; appointed Governor of Touraine, Grand Bailli of Haguenan, Superintendent of the Royal Mails, etc., all yielding considerable revenues. 28 — " Wait a minute," says she, *^ till I call my council : . . . to M. de Choiseul." — " That is not a bad idea, but I assure you, you are the first person to have thought of it." Mme. de Pompadour joins them. *' D'Amblimont has just had a strange idea," says M. de Gontaut. '^It is to give the Swiss Guard to Choiseul." — '' What madness ! " cries the Marquise. — '^ Not so mad," replies Gontaut. " If the King is not too strictly pledged to M. de Soubise I can imagine nothing better." — ^^The King has made no pro- mises," says Mme. de Pompadour. " It was I who gave Soubise some more than vague hopes ; and I like him much, but I do not think he can be com- pared to Choiseul." Two days latter Mme. d'Amblimont said to the Due de Gontaut : " I have two great joys. M. de Soubise is not to have the Swiss Guard, and Mme. de Marsan will burst with rage ; that is the first. And M. de Choiseul is to get it ; that is the second and the keener ! " Choiseul' s great and rapid fortune was not unde- served ; he owed it as much to his own merits as to his brother-in-law's influence. " Amiable, noble, frank, generous, gallant, magni- ficent, liberal, proud, bold, high-tempered and even choleric," says the Baron de Gleichen, '' the Due de Choiseul revived the type of the early French Knights." Of middle height, with hair verging on red, and a face that was almost ugly, he was neverthe- less delightful at first sight, and his mere appearance spoke in his favour. His eyes, though small, 29 sparkled with wit ; his turn-up nose gave him a look of fun, and his thick, laughing lips promised mirthful sallies. His wit and brilliant high spirits made him irresistible. '^ Grace, good company and gaiety are no longer to be found but in him," wrote Mme. du Defiant.^ " Every one else is dull, extravagant or pedantic." His goodness of heart and staunchness in friend- ship made him the idol of his intimate circle, and it was a large one. At the outset of his career he was severely criticized : "He is only a coxcomb without brains who has a little brimstone in his wit." But he soon made the world reconsider this verdict, and do justice to his great qualities. His rare merits were, however, marred by his vanity and presump- tion, and a levity and frivolity which in a statesman were unpardonable. He was too much a man of his time not to be passionately devoted to women or to make any secret of it, without much care for the humiliation and pain he inflicted on the charming creature who was his wife. From his first debut in the world he assumed the part of a successful Lothario, ** which shows," says Duclos spitefully, " that any man may play it." And his marriage made no difference in his habits in this respect. Her husband's flaunted infidelities were for a long time the cause of cruel anguish to the Duchesse de Choiseul. Finally, however, though she did not take advantage of them, at least she made up her mind i December 20, 1769. to them, and failing to meet with happiness as she had begun by dreaming of it, she contrived to find noble and lofty compensation in her admiration for the man whose name she bore. Though a very bad husband, M. de Choiseul never failed in consideration and esteem for a wife who was an honour to him, and whose virtues were in such conspicuous contrast to his profligacy. If the Due de Choiseul is one of the most fascinat- ing figures of his time, Louise Honorine Crozat du Chdtel, Duchesse de Choiseul, is undoubtedly the most lovely. In speaking of her all her contemporaries express an unanimous sentiment of admiration and respect ; there is not one dissentient voice. "It is a pity that she is an angel," writes Mme. du Deflfant. " I would rather she were a woman ; but she has only virtues, not a weakness, not a fault." Walpole speaks of her as the most accomplished type of her sex, having more good sense and more virtue than almost any other human creature ; and in a burst of sincere enthusiasm he cannot help exclaiming : *' Oh, it is the gentlest amiable civil little creature that ever came out of a fairy egg*'' ' Without being regularly pretty, she had fine eyes, a face full of expression and charm, and an exquisitely sweet voice in speaking. She was small but very well made, and her whole person was perfectly harmonious, a type of matchless grace. Her intellectual and moral qualities were on a par with her personal charms. And she owed them to herself 1 Letter to Gray, Jan. 25, 1766. 31 alone ; her motlier gave h er over to the care of hire- lings, and never troubled herself about her. The only instruction she could remember ever having had from her mother was this advice : " My child, have no tastes." This was indeed too compendious. Thus left to herself from her childhood, she gained precocious experience, which made her old before her time, and soon quenched all her illusions : " I never knew any youth," she said, " but that happy halluci- nation of which I was so early and so cruelly bereft." These were the most important members of the Due de Lauzun's family, those with Avhom he was in constant intercourse, and whom it was necessary to introduce before beginning our narrative. This introduction would however be incomplete without a slight sketch of the Court at the time when Lauzun first made his entry there. In fact, to enable us to form a just opinion of the conduct of our hero and to judge him with competent knowledge, it will be useful to show clearly what the surroundings were in which the young man found himself, what examples he had before his eyes from his earliest childhood, and among what intrigues it was his fate to live and move. We find as it were four distinct Court circles which carefully kept apart, having only the most formally official communications, and often existing in a state of covert hostility. The King and his mistress were the centre of the real Court, and Court amusements ; the Court which dispensed honours and favours, and to which 32 courtiers resorted. Then came that of the old Queen, neglected and out of fashion, attended only by a few faithful souls. The Dauphin and his wife again had a separate Court, no less austere and dull, where courtiers only made their appearance under obligation. And finally Mesdames, old maids before their time, bigots who, like their brother, were under the dominion of the Jesuits, held a fourth Court circle of their own. The King, in spite of his years — now above fifty — was as handsome and as elegant as ever. " Louis XV.," says Casanova, " had the finest head possible, and he carried it with equal grace and dignity. No painter, however skilful, has succeeded in render- ing the expression of that splendid head when the monarch turned to look kindly at anyone." His health was sound, and his taste for the fair sex, the natural outcome of an ardent nature, was as keen as it had always been. Louis XV. was certainly better than his reputation. In domestic life his temper was sweet and yielding, as amiable as it is possible to be, cheerful, affable, full of indulgence and kindliness. " His good-humour is unclouded," writes the Comte de Creutz ; "his wit lively and free ; no man can be gentler or more human." He was the best-hearted of men, the best master, and on the easiest footing with all who were about his person. He remained indeed extremely shy, and new faces gave him a sense of restraint and embarrassment which he could hardly control. But he also had great faults : he was reck- 33 ^ less, indifferent, and treated affairs of State as if some one else were responsible. One day he said to tlie Marechal de Biron, who was in command of the French Guards : " Marechal, have you seen the new uniform for the body-guard ? " — " No, sir." — " Make them show it to you. It really is handsome, splendid ! — embroidered with gold lace on every seam. What it is to cost I do not know, but they would have it. Those may pay who can ! for funds are very low this year." After all, and such as it was, the state of affairs lasted his time. The Marquise de Pompadour reigned for nearly fifteen years without a rival or a partner. There was nothing to foreshadow the end of this unheard- of supremacy. She was not an ordinary woman. " Every man," ivrites Cheverny, " would gladly have had her as his mistress ; she was tall for a woman, but not too tall, and very well made; her face was round, her features regular, her complexion exquisite ; she had a superb hand and arm, eyes which were pretty rather than fine, but full of a fire, a sparkle, a vivacity I have never seen matched in any other woman. She was round in every outline, as in every movement." ~ She had from the first behaved in her position as favourite with a tact which conciliated many critics. Her predecessors had displayed a height of impu- dence which was odious to respectable people. Marie Leczinska had been insulted in her own palace, and humiliated as a wife and a queen. " Mme. de 34 Pompadour, a woman of the middle class and very kind-hearted, had from the very first days of her ascendancy shown respectful deference to the Queen. This conduct commended itself to all. The King, who could be led to do right or wrong with equal facility, changed his manner to the Queen, and the favourite's good feeling got the credit of it. Marie Leczinska's immediate circle expressed their satis- faction at seeing the King return to demeanour that was relatively decent. Hence respectable folk recognized Mme. de Pompadour without too great repugnance ; the existence of such a personage being admitted in principle in every Court,^ criticism could only speak as to the use she made of her position."^ " Such a personage " was certainly admitted then at the Court of France, and the position of the recognized mistress was equal to a State appoint- ment. The official mistress was never parted from the King ; she accompanied him to all the summer residences, had her apartments at Versailles, and re- ceived a regular stipend ; and the ministers met and deliberated at her lodgings. The Court and the 1 When Mme. de Chateauroux publicly flaunted lier connection with the King by appearing with him in a box at the opera, there was a great scandal. But a code of morality for the use of monarchs was soon promulgated. It was stated that " the King was not, like his subjects, obliged to defer to certain considerations, much less to give an account of his actions ; that a high-handed line of conduct had been taken, and that this was the best way of silencing adverse arguments. As soon as curiosity was satisfied, encouragement prevailed, and almost everyone applauded the King's good taste." {Journal de police. — Vatel.) " Souvenirs de M. de Beauvau. 35 d2 town, ambassadors and clergy, every order of the State, crowded Mme. de Pompadour's drawing- rooms. " No one knew so well as she how to behave suitably to each one, with an ease which made no distinction of rank. To avoid all etiquette, she received in her dressing-room." Her influence over the King was still almost as great as in the beginning. She knew the King's temper perfectly, and that he had long ceased to be in love with her ; but she had become to him a necessary friend whom he could not do without. Nay, she not unfrequently had to be content with her part as a friend, and shut her eyes to the infidelities of her royal lover, or risk her position. She was in constant dread of being supplanted, and she one day made this audacious comparison: "My life is like that of a Christian, a perpetual fight." The Marquise had a pretty voice, was an excellent musician, acted well, and had the great art of amusing the man in all the kingdom the most difii- cult to amuse. Her fine intelligence comprehended all subjects, and she patronized the arts with equal taste and discernment ; poets, painters, sculptors, philosophers, men of letters, all found a flattering welcome and enlightened protection. By sheer grace and mother-wit she succeeded in giving dignity to an equivocal position, and in making it recognized by society at large. Louis XV., apart from all notions of gallantry, was fond of the intimate society of women, and he en- deavoured to gather about him the most amiable of 36 the sex. Mme. de Pompadour, to please him, took pains to surround him with all whose charm or whose wit could afford him some diversion and make the hours fly. In this intimate circle about the King and Mme. de Pompadour, Mme. de Choiseul, whose attractive personality we have slightly sketched, figured in the first rank. Fascinated by Mme. de Pompadour's charm, the Duchesse formed a sincere attachment to her, and became perhaps her most faithful friend. The Duchesse de Gramont,^ sister of the Due de Choiseul, was no less assiduous in her court to the royal mistress. Mme. de Gramont had no fortune beyond her stipend as Chanoinesse de Remiremont ; but when her brother was appointed to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, she quitted the convent where she had been impatiently vegetating, and came to live with him. She was already past twenty-eight years of age. Her beginnings were most unpreten- tious ; she was sweet and obliging to everybody ; but no sooner was her brother's position firmly established, and she herself admitted to the King's Court circle, than she changed her demeanour with amazing suddenness. The woman who rose to meet all and everyone, now left her seat for no one ; men of rank, ministers, foreign ambassadors — she treated the highest personages with the same arrogance. But to keep up the part she required a basis, a status, 1 Beatrice de Choiseul-Stainville, born at Luneville in 1730. (Walpole wrote Grammont, and it is usually spelt so in England.) and she had none. She determined to marry ; and she married the Due de Gramont, who had an immense fortune/ Mme. de Gramont was very like her brother. She was tall, with a clumsy, vulgar figure, and an abrupt, harsh voice ; her mien was bold and arrogant, and her manners so free and rough as to give her the appearance of a man rather than a woman ; but she was extremely clever, and her plain face was generally thought pleasing ; altogether she was not an undesirable wife. She was more feared than loved. '* She is utterly disagreeable, and as spiteful as the devil," writes a contemporary. Walpole is more just when he says that she was prodigiously agreeable when she chose ; she was a vehement friend, but a rude and insolent enemy. There was also in the favourite's circle another woman as noted for the graces of her mind as for the beauty of her face : this was the.Marechale de Mirepoix. ^ 1 The Due de Gontaut was deputed to negotiate, and the marriage took place on August 16, 1759 ; it was not a happy one, as we shall see later. Antoine Antonin Due de Gramont, bom April 19, 1722, at that time was still called the Prince de Bidache ; he was Gover- nor of Upper and Lower Navarre and Beam. He was a widower ; his first wife was Louise Victoire de Gramont, his first cousin, by whom he had a son. 2 Mme. de Mirepoix, born 1707, daughter of the Prince de Craon, and sister of the Prince de Beauvau, had been married to the Prince de Lixen, of the house of Lorraine. The Prince was killed by Eiche- lieu in a duel in the trenches of PhiHppsbourg, in 1734. His widow marned for the second time Pierre de Levis, Marquis de Mirepoix. He himself was the widower of a daughter of Samuel Bernard. M. and Mme. de Mirepoix were devotedly attached, and are one of the few happy couples who can be named in the higher ranks, in the eighteenth century. M. de Mirepoix was a somewhat eccentric 38 Clever, discerning, and with the sweetest temper, kind, obliging, and unfailingly to be depended on, she was passionately addicted to social pleasures. She was as incapable of intrigue as she was of endur- ing dulness. What she sought at Court was amuse- ment, and not influence. Her delightful character pleased the King, who admitted her to his intimacy and trusted her confidentially. " The Marechale's happiness was complete, for all she asked was to be at Versailles as often and for as long a time as possible, and to sup every evening in the King's private apartments (les petits cabinets) after playing for high stakes. Play was then quite usual among the most respectable persons. Its place in the economy of life was as fixed as that of the meals, but Mme. de Mirepoix unfortunately had a perfect passion for it, and this passion had a fatal effect on her dignity of character. When she lost large sums the King was amused and paid her debts ; but she thus contracted others which were more difficult to pay. She was ready to welcome Mme. de Pompadour, and became her intimate friend. What would you have ? The King was so kind, so liberal, life was so amusing at Marly and at Choisy. There was no Gavagnole played any- where as it was at the King's table." ^ figure : " Le Mirepoix,^' says the President Henault, " is, as you know him : he talks with his elbows, argues with his chin, walks well, is a good soul, hard, polite, dry, civil, etc." But he had much loftiness of soul, and in war displayed real talent. He was created Duke, Marshal of France, and Captain of the Body- guard at the death of the Marechal d'Harcourt. He died Sep- tember 25, 1757. ^ Souvenirs du Prince de Beauvau. Cavagnole was a form of Loto. 39 Even with advancing years, her spirit never grew old ; her grace was infinite and her tone perfect, her manners polished and easy, her temper equable. " She had one of those enchanting natures," says the Prince de Ligne, ^' which supplies something to please each one ; you would have sworn that she had never thought of anyone but you all her life." ^ Mme. de Pompadour had also two cousins at Court, Mme. d'Esparbes and Mme. d'Ambli- mont ; with them she was on terms of the closest intimacy.^ Mme. d'Esparbes was short and red- haired, with short-sighted, dull blue eyes, and a somewhat mis-shapen nose ; but her complexion was dazzling, her mouth and teeth perfect, her hands exquisite, altogether a very attractive little person. At the suppers in the King's private room it was she who with dainty fingers prepared cherries for his Majesty, deftly peeling them, for him to eat after rolling them in sugar.^ 1 Her only physical defect was a troublesome nervous jerking of her head, which attacked her early in life. This disfiguring malady was ascribed to her drinking tea, of which she swallowed several cups a day, a habit she had acquu^ed in England. At that time people were very ready to believe that tea and coffee were both slow poisons. " I heard a clever man and a physician," writes the Due de Levis, " say that in some northern country, I have forgotten where, it was thought desu^able to ascertain the relative virulence of these two poisons, and to this end it was decided that they should be given, severally, three times a day to each of two criminals, whose life was respited to subject them to the terrible ordeal. The result was that the one who took the tea died at the age of seventy-nine, and the other lived to be eighty." ^ She had even dubbed them with nicknames that were more than odd. She called one " my dish-clout," and the other ''my apron." 3 Souvenirs de Mme. de Genlis. To preserve the Avliiteness of 40 Lively, agreeable, and very popular, Mme. d'Amblimont was noted for the spirit with which she conversed, and her witty repartees, wildly merry but never bitter. Her face, bewitching with mischief and at the same time with languor, brought her a thousand adorers. Her levity was superficial rather than intrinsic, for her judgment was sound and her advice was often excellent. Of the courtiers who formed the King's intimate circle, we already know M. de Gontaut and M. de Choiseul. There remain to be mentioned the Marquis de Chauvelin, the Marechal de Rohan- Soubise, the Marechal de Beauvau, and others. M. de Chauvelin^ — ambassador, general, poet, and courtier — was a graceful and ready talker, and com- bined great subtlety of intellect with a most amiable character. The King was much attached to him. " He was a very singular man," writes Mme. du Deffant, " beloved by everyone, though no one could say who was his greatest friend. Though a great talker, he was never a bore, very full of himself, but without being offensive. One could name no particu- lar quality for which to praise him, but there was none he especially lacked ; his good-fellowship supplied the place of all." ^ her hands she would constantly be bled, without the slightest necessity for it. 1 Fran9ois Claude Marquis de Chauvelin served with distinction in Italy, and rose to the rank of Major-General during the war in Flanders. He was made Lieutenant-General in 1749, Ambassador to Turin in 1753, Master of the Wardrobe in 1760. We shall see the part he played in Corsica in 1768. He died suddenly in 1774. 2 Letter to Barthelemy, November 26, 1773. 4' M. de Soubise/ head of the house of Rohan, was no less a favourite in the small royal circle. Not distinguished for his talents, he nevertheless had much experience of the world and of the Court, and the courtesy of his manner made him popular. He had that almost excessive politeness which he owed to his education, and which was so characteristic of his house that it was called 'Hhe politeness of the Rohans." He always made a point of extreme con- sideration for the King's favourites, and the King himself was deeply attached to him; he was " the friend of his heart, his Soubise." He was un- doubtedly the dearest to him of all his courtiers. In spite of his notorious incapacity, he became Minister of State and Marshal of France. Nothing could diminish the favour he enjoyed in the monarch's aifections; not even the disastrous battle of Ros- bach.^ 1 Charles de Rohan, Prince de Soubise; 1715-1787. The ancient and illustrious house of Rohan laid claim to the highest precedence and honours. It asserted pretensions to rank next to the princes of the blood, and above dukes and peers of the realm. The Rohans insisted on being addressed in letters as " Highness," but the claim was never allowed by other families of title. At this time it consisted of six members : Mme. de Marsan, Governess to the royal children ; the Prince de Rochef ort, a delicate man of little mark ; the Chevalier de Rohan, who was in the navy, and who had married Mile, de Breteuil ; the Archbishop of Cambrai, the Prince de Rohan, father of M. de Guemenee ; and finally M. de Guemenee himself. 2 The Marechal's military misadventures excited, as may be supposed, the mocking spirit of rhymesters. These lines especially were the delights of the drawing-rooms : — Soubise dit, la lanterne a la main : *' J'ai beau chercher, ou diable est men armee? EUe etait la pourtant hier matin : Me I'a-t-on prise ? ou I'aurais-je egaree. 42 M. le Marechal Prince de Beauvau,^ brother of Mme. de Mirepoix, was delightful. It was said of him that he never failed in any duty. In all he did he showed nobleness and delicacy. Nature had endowed him with sound judgment and exquisite taste, a lofty soul and a noble and dignified presence. One began by respecting him, but soon respect yielded to love, and it was for ever ; never was there a more gentle or affable companion. All these persons were constantly grouped about the King's person ; there was not an incident of daily life but threw them together. At cards, hunting, acting plays, and at supper, they continually met. They assembled every evening in Mme. de Pompa- dour's room, and there passed long hours of intimacy in play and gossip ; delightful ease prevailed, etiquette was banished, and the conversation degantee — with- out gloves — to use the word of the day. Ah I je perds tout ! je snis si etourdi. Mais attendons an grand joui", u midi. Que vois-je, 6 ciel ! que mon ?ime est ravie ! Prodige heureux, la voila, la voilh ! All ! ventrebleu, qu'est-ce done que cela ? Je me trompais, c'est rannee ennemie." Lantern in hand, Soubise in search exclaims : " Why, where the devil can my army be ? Yestei-day morning it was here, I know. Has it been stolen ? — or mislaid by me ? I am so heedless, I lose all my things ! But wait for daylight — at noon we shall see. What do my eyes behold ? Great Heav'n, what bliss ! A mir£Lcle ! For there it is, I vow ! No, d — n it all ! Why, what on earth is this ? I see I was mistaken. That's the foe." 1 He was appointed Captain of the Body-guard on the death of his brother-in-law, the Marechal de Mirepoix, in 1757. 43 Side by side with this gay and brilliant Court about the King, the gloomy and neglected Court of Marie Leczinska vegetated drearily enough. " The Queen was a charming little old lady ; she still had a very pretty face and an enchanting smile. She was gracious and obliging, and the soft tones of her rather languid voice went to the heart. Her whole conduct was and always had been immaculately pure ; she was pious, kind, and charitable ; she was fond of letters, and encouraged them with discern- ment. She had a very graceful wit, and several pretty repartees of hers became current."^ She was greatly respected, but there was something dull in her virtues which did not invite enthusiasm. She could scarcely collect round her a few faithful friends. Her coterie met at the Duchesse de Luynes'. There every evening they napped in company, with much ceremony. The most regular visitors were Mme. du Deffant's old friend, the President Henault,^ Moncrif,^ author, musician, and poet, some devout 1 Souvenirs de Mme. de Genlis. 2 He was a member of the French Academy. His long con- nection with Mme. du Deffant is a matter of history. When she considered that the hour had come to bid adieu to the errors of this world and to prepare for the next, she is credited with this quaint speech : ''As to rouge and the President Henault, I shall not do them so much honour as to give them up." He died in 1770. " The President is dead," Mme. du Defiant writes, very drily ; " he could not have had a more peaceful end ; he simply loent out. Mme. de Jonsac (his sister) was in great grief; mine is more moderate. I had so many proofs of his diminished regard that I can only feel that I have lost an acquaintance." (To Walpole, November 25, 1770.) 3 Though not leading a very reputable life, Moncrif had been appointed reader to the Queen. He died at the Tuileries in 1770, aged eighty -three. 44 persons and elderJy Court ladies, " who," says Wal- pole, " are languishing to be in Abraham's bosom, as the only man to whom they can hope for admit- tance." ^ '' Commerce was played at the Duchesse de Luynes', and the Queen had her cavagnole from seven till nine. The Dauphin and Dauphiness and Mesdames joined it regularly, and staked once or twice. Visitors were admitted to look on at this doleful spectacle, but no one cared to go." " The Dauphin's Court was hardly more attractive or more fully attended. The prince, at this time thirty years old, was cultivated and amiable ; but he was austerely devout and narrow-minded, and his conduct was a silent condemnation of his father's. At one time it was supposed that he was paying attentions to the Marquise de Belsunce, who was angelically pretty, or to the no less fascinating Mar- quise de Tess6 ; he seemed to admire them both ; but his wife, who watched him closely, checkmated any such schemes. This lady, a Princess of Saxony, was not beloved. Eaten up by ambition, and desperately jealous, she had a capricious temper, and those who were about her person regarded her as extremely cross-grained. " With nothing good-humoured in her countenance, she has a look and accent that make me dread lest I should be invited to a private party at loo with 1 Letter to John Chute, October 3, 1765. 3 Memoires de Cheverny. 45 her. She looks cross and is not civil, and has the true Westphalian grace and accent." ^ The Dauphin had three sons and two daughters, who were brought up by Mme. de Marsan,^ gover- ness of the Royal children. She was the sister of the Prince de Rohan-Soubise. Mme. de Marsan was austere and bigoted, a tool of the Jesuits ; her birth and post alike gave her great influence, and she was the leader of a faction at Court. When the young princes were taken out of female care, the Due de La Vauguyon was appointed to be their governor. He was a protege of Mme. de Mar- san's, and not less devoted to the Jesuit party ; a worse guide could not have been chosen. False and artificial, he would have had most pernicious influence over his pupils if he had not from the first aroused their instinctive aversion. A born intriguer, ready to use any means to gain his ends, he took advantage of the high functions entrusted to him merely to subserve his own passions and interested aims. Mesdames the King's daughters were four in num- ber, and they too had a Court of their own, serious, methodical, and gloomy. Madame Adelaide was the cleverest of the four. Her manners were abrupt, her voice hard, her accent haughty ; infatuated by a sense of her rank, she was arrogant and despotic. She had 1 Walpole to John Chute, October 3, 1765. 2 Marie-Louise de Rohan-Soubise, Comtesse de Marsan. Left the widow of a Prince of the house of Lorraine, she was about to be married again, to M. de Bissi, when he was killed in battle. She then took up religion and intrigue, nor did calumny spare her reputation. 46 a pronounced taste for dominion. After rebelling indignantly against Mme. de Pompadour's influence, she ended by going over to the favourite's side, to such a point as to accept a confessor from that tainted hand. Madame Victoire, a gentle and sympathetic soul, was completely subdued by her elder sister. Madame Sophie, dull-witted, ungraceful, and silent, obeyed Madame Adelaide equally blindly. Madame Louise, — Madame Demiere (the last), as Louis XV. called her when she was bom — was livelier and more frivolous than her seniors, and more open to some news of the world. All four loved luxury and splendour, and their rooms were filled with the choicest products of China and Japan. Walpole, on being presented to them, drew a somewhat disrespectful picture of them : " The four Mesdames, who are clumsy, plump old wenches with a bad likeness to their father, stand in a bed- chamber in a row, mth black cloaks and knotting- bags, looking good-humoured, and not knowing what to say." The part they played, at first an insignificant one, became more important after the Dauphin's death. They then soon became the mainspring of every intrigue ; in their rooms was hatched all the trickery, and there culminated all the competitions and rivalries of the Court. 47 CHAPTER III. 1755—1762. LauzTin's education — He joins the Regiment of Guards — Mme. de Gramont — The Comte de Stainville — Mme. de Stainville — A journey to Cauterets — M. de Jaucourt. On the strength of his father's immediate intimacies, Lauzun was brought up at Court, as he himself expresses it, " on the knees of the King's mistress." He took Mme. de Pompadour's fancy, and she con- ceived a sincere affection for the engaging child who was often brought to see her, and on whom she lavished her caresses. We have no record of Lauzun's childhood beyond one letter from the Due de Gontaut : '^ My son," he says, "is very ugly, but I believe he will have plenty of sense. "^ It would be hard to be less clear-sighted. Meanwhile, the child was growing and his education must be taken in hand. His father put him under the care of a man named Roch, who had been a servant in the family, a trustworthy man, who was graced with the title of Groom of the Chambers to give him some im- portance. He was, in fact, a very honest fellow, very 1 " Mon fils est fort laid, mais il sera, je crois, fort raisonable." 48 scrupulous and faithful, but as unfit as possible to fulfil the functions entrusted to him of directing the education of a youth. He taught him all he knew ; to write a good hand and read aloud agreeably. The art of reading aloud well was at that time so highly valued that many persons took lessons from Lekain, Mole, and Mile. Dumesnil ; the Comtesse de Chau- velin, who recited to perfection, had taken lessons from Mile. Clairon. M. Roch's two simple accom- plishments were of more use to his pupil than could have been expected. Mme. de Pompadour, having discerned Lauzun's aptitudes, frequently employed him as her secretary, and she invariably applied to him whenever she desired to be read to. The young man had, besides, other fashionable masters, but he profited little by their lessons, and much preferred to be taken to Court, there to play the humble part which the favourite's liking per- mitted him to fill, and which his youth found quite tolerable. He was indeed an engaging person in his Court costume, his hair white with powder and dressed in a bag, with curls stiffened with pomatum, and the frank, childish countenance of which the boyish candour is so well given in the frontispiece to this volume. Like all the children of his rank, Lauzun played the fine gentleman ; wore a sword, carried his hat under his arm, wore a lace shirt-frill and a handsome coat with gold facings ; and he could kiss a lady's hand with a grace due to the teaching of his dancing-master. These intimacies and these habits contributed, no 49 E doubt, to flatter Lauzun's budding vanity ; but they greatly hindered his education, and implanted in him the worst possible principles for future practice. M. de Gontaut does not seemed to have cared ; and he justified his negligence by an eccentric remark of the Chevalier de Montbarrey's, who said that the morals of Paris had reached such a pitch of freedom and license that fathers and mothers were no longer their children's parents but "once removed." The sort of life led by Lauzun, though brilliant and delightful in appearance, had its seamy side. He himself notes it in a characteristic sentence which throws a strange light on the customs of our fore- fathers in the matter of bringing up children : "I was like every child of my age and rank," he says. " I had beautiful clothes to go out in, and at home was naked and dying of hunger." At the age of twelve, thanks to his father's in- fluence and Mme. de Pompadour's patronage, Lauzun was allowed to join the regiment of Guards (Gardes Fran^aises), of which his uncle, the Marechal de Biron, was colonel.^ The King, lavish of favours to this child who had groivn up under his ken, and of whom he was fond, even promised him the reversion of the command. " At that early age," says Lauzun, with some irony, "I knew that I should have an immense fortune, ^ He was appointed ensign (enseigne de drajpeau) January 18, 1761, and promoted (to be enseigne de pique) February 22, a month later ; on October 18 of the same year he became lieu- tenant. 50 and the finest appointment in the kingdom, without taking the pains to be a good subject." His appointment to the Guards in no way hindered the new officer from attending at Court on all occasions. Very proud of his fine uniform, he was more assiduous than ever in his attendance on the favourite, and continued to mix in perfect intimacy with all the ladies and gentlemen who visited her, and who were amused by his youthfulness. He took his share in all the diversions invented by the favourite's * ingenious brain,' and played a part in them when suited to his years. Thus we find him figuring in several of the pieces performed on the stage of the private apartments, where his father had already culled many laurels. His precocious intelli- gence, his youthful grace and clever looks earned him endless compliments. These, then, were the surroundings in which the child was growing up, at an age when the mind is open to such deep impressions, when nature, as yet unspoiled, can be moulded like wax. Without a mainstay, without a guide, without any real super- vision, he imbibed no principles of moral conduct but from the examples he saw around him. However strong his good instincts may naturally have been, he could but form his tastes and ideas on the tastes and ideas of the society in which he had been placed, and we really cannot be surprised to see him subse- quently put into practice the lessons in which his infancy was nurtured. By what right and with 51 E 2 what justice can we require of him a code of morals or high principles, when these were but a dead letter to all the persons he had lived among ? This neglected education, this deplorable environment, must eloquently plead for "extenuating circum- stances" when we presently pass judgment on the sins of the man. This is indeed an essential point of the first im- portance, which must not be ignored if we are to take an impartial view of our hero's life ; and he, more even than many others, has a claim to our large indulgence ; for though he shared the errors of his age, at any rate he had in the highest degree all its best, noblest, and most attractive characteristics. Among the women with whom Lauzun was most frequently thrown at Court was the Duchesse de Gramont, whose acquaintance we have made. To her Lauzun, as yet a novice, dared to raise his eyes ; she had the first devotion of a heart already eager to be given away. Circumstances led to frequent meetings. He constantly saw her, not only at Court, but at the house of his uncle de Choiseul, where she played an ambiguous part. Mme. de Gramont had sought in marriage nothing but high position and a large for- tune. The man whose name she took was disreput- able, he had no character, he led a *' crapulous " life ; for all this the haughty chanoinesse cared not at all. Three months after the ceremony they parted, and Mme. de Gramont returned to live with her brother ; but she retained her title and a splendid income. She had unlimited influence over the Due de 52 Choiseul, and Mme. de Choiseul, after being much attached to her sister-in-law, became jealous of a power which she considered should be hers alone, and entered on a struggle in which she was not the stronger. Tired of warfare, she surrendered, and accepted sadly but with a good grace the secondary part she was allowed to play ; but the result was a rivahy, a covert hostility, which even time was in- effectual to soothe. The Due de Gontaut, faithful to his habits as a courtier and his love of moderation, contrived to take neither side, and remained on very good terms with both the sisters-in-law. Lauzun followed his father's example, but in his heart he was wholly for Mme. de Gramont. This unconfessed preference is all the more inexplicable because Mme. de Choiseul, anxious to replace the mother he had lost, had always shown the tenderest solicitude for her nephew, surrounding his childhood with care and affection: and though she had not been able to direct his education as she would have wished, the fault did not lie with her, but with M. de Gontaut and the morals of the period. Lauzun, though he felt most sincere gratitude and genuine affection for his aunt, was dazzled by the seductive charm and sparking wit of Mme. de Gramont. The grand lady was indeed very ready to smile graciously on the young officer in the Guards ; she treated him like the child that he was, and seemed to take a keen interest in him ; and her familiarity, which she probably thought quite a matter of course, excited the youth's pre- 53 cocious and alert imagination. He even began to suspect the lady of a warm liking for him. Meanwhile, he set up a boyish flirtation with her waiting- woman ; but the austere M. Roch, having an inkling of his pupil's inclinations, inter- vened in time to prevent the idyl begun at the feet of the mistress from ending prosaically in the ante- chamber. Lauzun, whose taste for the fair sex was fast developing, consoled himself for this repulse by allowing himself to be involved in another love affair. In 1761 the Marechal de Belle-Isle, Minister of War, had died, and Choiseul succeeded him in the office. The duke had a brother, the Comte de Stainville, Colonel of Dragoons in the service of the Empress of Hungary.^ As soon as Choiseul was appointed, he ordered him back to France, gave him the rank of Lieutenant- General, and set to work to settle him in life. M. de Stainville had but a small fortune ; more- over, he was not attractive, having acquired in the course of his travels a German reserve and rigidity. Choiseul nevertheless succeeded in securing for him the hand of Thomasse Th^r^se de Clermont-Renel, who possessed a large fortune ^ and was exceedingly beautiful. The negotiations were conducted while M. de Stainville was still absent with the army. When everything was settled, he had orders to return to Paris, and within six hours of his arrival stood 1 He was what was called an officer a culotte de peau (leather breeches), which meant that he did not retire from the service to which he was already attached. 2 Her marriage portion brought him an income of 200,000 livres. 54 before the altar with a young girl whom he had never seen, and who only the day before was still in a convent. The marriage took place April 3, 1761. The Comte was forty years of age and his bride very nearly fifteen.' Such unions as these, where nothing was considered but suitability of fortune, rank, and position, the couple never having met till the eve or even the day of their marriage, were almost the rule in the eighteenth century.^ The marriage of the Comte de Stainville to Mile, de Clermont- Renel was the occasion of great festivities. Lauzun of course was present, as belonging to the family ; he was but just fourteen years of age, but precocious. He was captivated by the bride at first sight, and without loss of time fell desperately in love with her. Unfortunately, he could not duly dis- semble his feelings ; they were soon discovered and ^ She was bom in September 1746. 2 Of innninerable cases may be quoted that of the Prince de Montbarrey, who at the age of twenty married a young lady of thirteen, brought out of a convent for the ceremony. ** I arrived in Paris only a few days before that fixed for my wedding," he says, *' and three days before the ceremony I saw for the first time the wife who had been chosen for me." Such marriages sometimes led to unexpected results. The Countess Kliuska, famous for her beauty, never even saw her husband but once. Her parents and Count Klinski's had arranged that their children were to marry. They had never met. The Count only appeared in time for the ceremony. As soon as it was ended he said to his young and lovely wife : " Madame, we have obeyed our parents ; I leave you with regret, but I cannot conceal from you that I have long been attached to a woman apart from whom I cannot live, and I am about to return to her." The post-chaise was at the church door ; having thus taken leave, the Count got into it, and was never seen again. 55 the subject of endless pleasantries. Mme. de Stainville laughed with the rest, but at the bottom of her heart she could not help being touched by the sincere and spontaneous homage he paid her. Though Lauzun was but fourteen, she herself was only fifteen, and the lad must have been far more attractive to her than her elderly husband. The intimacy of the families necessarily threw the two young people frequently together, and Lauzun's passion constantly increased ; the more he saw of Mme. de Stainville the more he adored her. He was very unexpectedly seconded by Mme. de Gramont, for she, disturbed by M. de Choiseul's evident liking for his young sister-in-law, feared lest her influence should be diminished, and was delighted to see Mme. de Stainville otherwise occupied ; so she did all in her power to encourage this childish flirtation, which she regarded as free from danger. She protected the juvenile lovers, and was ready enough to facilitate their meetings. One day she invited Lauzun and Mme. de Stainville to spend the day with her. The youth, at the height of felicity, looked forward with impatience to the happy day, hoping to seize a moment when he might declare his flame. But, unluckily, M. Roch, always relentless, kept guard over his pupil's virtue. Having got scent of the proposed interview, and fearing the consequences, he formally prohibited it. Instead of going to the anticipated meeting, the disappointed lover was dragged off to attend mass at the church of the Petits Peres (Notre Dame des Victoires). Heartbroken at being so 56 cruelly baulked, and exasperated to fury, the boy had a fainting fit during the service ; he entirely lost consciousness, and had to be carried out and revived by smelling-salts. When he recovered his senses he was lying at full length on the church steps, and some old women were bathing his temples. He was taken home to his father's house, and the adventure soon became known to all the family. Mme. de Stainville, deeply touched, flew to his bedside, and to her he confessed the cause of his attack. M. Roch got a scolding for his excessive severity, and the Comtesse carried off the lad to her own house. The two young people swore eternal attachment. Unluckily, a somewhat severe illness of Mme. de Stainville's cut short this promising idyl. Lauzun did not see her for more than six months. As soon as she was convalescent she went to complete the cure by the waters of Cauterets,^ and did not return to Paris till the beginning of the following winter. She was introduced to society by her sister-in-law, the Duchesse de Choiseul, and had an enormous success. She danced like an angel, and was a dazzling vision of grace and beauty ; wherever she went she was surrounded with adulation. Finding herself thus sought by the most elegant men of fashion, she made haste to forget her former ^ It was already customary to go in search of health to the mineral springs in the Pyrenees, bnt it was an extremely costly journey. The Comtesse de la Marche went to Bareges in 1769 ; she took six carriages and thirty-six horses, and the expedition cost her more than 100,000 ecus. (£20,000). S7 and innocent love affair, and accepted the attentions of the Chevalier de Jaucourt, whose reputation made them the more flattering to her vanity. M. de Jaucourt, nicknamed Glair de lune (moon-light), was very popular in society. He had a noble figure, a fine manner, and a very pleasing face, round, full, and colourless, mth black eyes, small features, and brown hair, which he wore loose and unpowdered ; " in fact, he was very like a full moon." His character was very worthy, straightforward, and loyal. His civilities were welcomed, and he soon inspired Mme. de Stainville with very warm liking. Lauzun, furious at finding himself supplanted in the good graces of his beloved, went so far as to remonstrate, to be jealous — desperate ; but all to no purpose. This was our hero's early first appearance in his career as a lady-killer. 58 CHAPTER IV. 1763. Lauznii's betrothal to Mile, de Boufflers — The Marechale de Luxembourg — The Marechale de Mirepoix — Mile, de Beau- vau. In 1763 Lauzun was nearly sixteen. He was the most engaging young gentleman you could wish to see ; full of accomplishment and wit, he had the transcendent attractions and charms of youth and good looks. " Every advantage bestoAved by nature," says Chevemy, who knew him at this time, "seemed combined in his favour. Sixteen years old, as amiable as a man can possibly be, a fine figure, a great name, the son of a duke, nephew and heir to the Marechal Due de Biron, nephew too of the omni- potent minister, to what might he not aspire ? This delightful creature, noble in his way of living and as magnificent as a Grand Seignior, gave himself up to every pleasure." Could it be otherwise ? With his education, his surroundings, his name, his fortune, and his personal attractiveness, could Lauzun have escaped his destiny ? However, before launching him on the world where he was to be so brilliantly successful, his father, 59 M. de Gontaut, resolved that he should marry. It was, in fact, the custom, in the society in which we are moving, to marry very young. M. de Gontaut cast his eyes on a rich orphan. Mile, de Boufflers, a grand-daughter of the Marechale de Luxembourg, by whom she had been brought up. It was a splendid match, as brilliant from the point of view of fortune as from those of rank and position. Mme. de Luxembourg ^ at that time held the highest place in society, and was a very striking example of what determination, audacity, and high birth can do to secure a position in the world. Her first husband was the Due de Boufflers. When Louis XV. married she was appointed lady-in- waiting to the Queen. At that time the profligacy of her conduct was at its height. Clever, agreeable, with every grace, and exquisitely lovely, Mme. de Boufflers gratified every fancy, and her adventures were ere long notorious. Every man of fashion was in her train ; and in all the flagrancy of such a dissolute life Mme. de Boufflers reached an age when a woman, having lost her powers of pleasing, is obliged to give it up. She then gave out among her friends that she was about to alter her conduct and aim at being respected. To make the metamorphosis the more complete, she also changed her name. M. de Boufflers having very opportunely died in 1747 (at Genoa of small-pox), she 1 Bom in 1707, daughter of tlie Due de Villeroy and gi*and- daugliter of Marechal Villeroy. 60 married the Marechal de Luxembourg, whose high position was to be of service to her in attaining the object she aimed at. " From that time," says Besenval, ill-naturedly, "she maintained a certain preponderance in society ; for such is this country : so long as you are opulent and bear a fine name, not only is everything overlooked, but you may enjoy a respected old age after a most disreputable youth." Great mother-wit, though uncultivated,^ excellent taste, and long experience of the Court and the world, gave the Marechale the importance of which she was ambitious, and she had soon established herself as supreme judge of what was correct and good style. '' In her circle was preserved intact the tradition of noble and easy manners which all Europe came to Paris to admire, and tried in vain to imitate." ' The Marechale's power over young people of either sex was absolute. In 1760 it was not enough to be presented at Court ; to be of " the world " you must also have been approved by Mme. de Luxem- bourg. This undisputed sway justified a smart speech of the Prince de Ligne's. A lady asked him, ^ After the first performance of Voltaire's '* Oreste" Mme. de Luxemboui'g wrote to the author four large pages of criticism. The patriarch simply replied : " Madame la Marechale, Orestes is not spelt with an H. I remain, with deep respect, etc." But, for that matter, no one could spell at that time. Voltaire, Mme. Geoff nn, Mme. de Choiseul, Mme. de Pompadour — no one troubled their heads about it. The Marechal de Richelieu's con-espondents, the greatest ladies at Coui't, wrote : '' Vous ne meme plus." (You love me no longer.) After the Revolution the fashion changed, and it became the genteel thing to write correctly. 2 Souvenirs du Due du Levis. 6i " On whom do reputations depend ? '' and he replied, " Ahiiost always on persons who have none." The Marechale was reckoned ill-natured, and she was more feared than loved ; but she had succeeded in imposing her yoke, and people submitted. In fact, she spared no one. She had some skill in epigram, and in the highest degree the wit that shines in repartee.' " Mme. de Luxembourg's conversation does not sparkle with wit," says J. J. Rousseau ; " she has no sallies, and it is not strictly speaking subtle ; but full of exquisite delicacy, which never hits hard, and always pleases." ^ Walpole alludes to the Marechale 's transformation : " She has been very handsome, very abandoned, and very mischievous. Her beauty is gone, her lovers are gone, and she thinks the devil is coming. This dejection has softened her into being rather agree- able, for she has wit and good-breeding." ^ There was nothing imposing in her appearance. At first it was rather startling to see a homely little 1 The high pretensions to nobility of the family of Montmorency had turned her head. Her rooms were everywhere covered with the lions of Luxembourg and the eaglets of Montmorency. Her brother, bewailing one day in her presence the death of his only son, exclaimed, bitterly, " There will never be another Villeroy ! " " Well, the world will go on as it did three hundred years ago ; it will do without them ! " she retorted, drily. The Dauphin one day was rallying her on her admu^tion for the house of Mont- morency. " Do you know, madame, all the fine actions of the Montmorencys ? " he asked. " Monseigneur, I know the history of Fiunce," she replied. 2 Confessions, part 2, bk. x. ^ To Gray, Jan. 25, 1766. 62 woman in a brown silk gown, with a cap and cuffs of plain gauze with a deep hem, without jewels or any kind of frippery; but her attitude was so dignified, that it was impressive. The costume of an old woman had in those days the advantage of not in any way resembling that of the young. She ceased to wear flowers by the time she was four or five and thirty ; at fifty she donned a black coif; thus no comparison could be drawn between youth and riper age. These are the circumstances which led to the Marechale's having undertaken the charge and education of her grand-daughter. By her marriage with the Due de Boufflers, the Marechale had a son, who, in 1747, had manned Mile, de Montmorency, of Flanders. He died in September, 1751, leaving an only daughter. A place as lady-in-waiting was given to his widow, and she lived in the palace, little known, while Mme. de Luxembourg declared that she would provide for her grand- daughter. Contrary to general expectations, she devoted herself entirely to her charge, and achieved the happiest results. Even Besenval is obliged to own it. " I know only one good thing about her," he says, "and that is, the way in which she has brought up her grand-daughter ; it is true she had an excellent foundation, but it is impossible to deny that she is a masterpiece of education, and the most perfect woman ever known." Amelie de Boufflers was born May 5, 1751 ; she was therefore but just twelve years old in 1763. She was still a child, but reported to be gifted with the 63 most exquisite qualities ; her charming temper and " angelic " nature were lauded to the skies. M. de Gontaut thought, and not without reason, that it would be difficult to meet with a better match, a finer fortune, or rarer qualities ; he here found a splendid alliance for his son, uniting every advantage that could be wished. In conformity with custom, the marriage was arranged and promises were exchanged without con- sulting Lauzun. Nevertheless, to avoid the annoy- ances and extravagances of the marriages of the day, it was agreed that the young people should meet before the ceremony. Mme. de Luxembourg had an intimate friend, Mme. de Mirepoix, of whom mention has been made. She entertained a great deal, and advantage was taken of her hospitable salon to bring the two young people together ; they were invited to an afternoon ball. These dances began at five o'clock and ended at ten. Besides mere girls and youths, newly-married wives were invited who, by reason of their youth, did not go alone into society, and did not yet keep late hours. At about five o'clock Lauzun arrived at the house ; he found there a charming young lady who pleased him immensely ; he took her to be Amelie de Boufflers, and was rejoicing in his destiny, when a door opened, and a young girl came in, shy, un- formed, and awkward ; this was the bride chosen for him. His disappointment was profound ; and nothing ever could make Lauzun get over a first unfavour- able impression. 64 The attractive creature who had at first set his heart beating was Mile, de Rothe, of whom we shall hear more anon. Mile, de Rothe was not the only person selected by Lauzun for admiration at the Marechale's ball. Mme. de Mirepoix's brother, the Prince de Beauvan, was present at the party with the Prin- cesse and his daughter. Mile, de Beauvau was charming; her matchless complexion and the per- fection of her features soon effaced the impression of a slight halt in her gait. She was lively, natural, clever and piquante. She made the deepest impression on Lauzun ; he had no eyes but for her, danced only with her, and departed carrying her image deeply graven in his heart. On leaving Mme. de Mirepoix's house Lauzun hastened to his father and declared flatly that Mile, de Boufflers did not please him, and that on no con- sideration would he marry her. But M. de Gontaut would not listen to him ; he simply replied that he had pledged his word, and that nothing on earth should hinder him from keeping it. Still, as the bridegroom's youth allowed of delay, time was given to him for repentance of what could only be a fit of temper, and he was granted some respite. The young man availed himself of it to go con- stantly into society and meet Mile, de Beauvau as frequently as possible. The more he saw her, the more he was in love ; Mile, de Beauvau seemed not to be indifferent to his assiduity, and her mother, the Princesse, to whom Lauzun confided his passion and 65 F his projects of marriage, far from raising any obstacle, was disposed to encourage them. Lauzun, wishing to have a powerful supporter in his own family, went to see Mme. de Gramont and asked her advice. She highly approved of his matrimonial plans, and warmly praised a choice which could only be admired ; she promised her assistance, and even offered to intercede with M. de Gontaut. But the father was inflexible to every entreaty ; he replied that his word was pledged and that he could not retract. Whereupon the Princesse de Beauvau and her daughter set out for Lorraine, where they made a long stay. They were on the point of returning to Paris when the Princesse was seized with small-pox, at Commercy ; notwithstanding the most afl*ectionate care, she died September 6, 1763. This event was doubly distressing to Lauzun. Besides his sincere attachment to Mme. de Beauvau, in her he lost his mainstay, the most powerful ally he could hope for. Mile, de Beauvau was placed in the convent of Port -Royal. At the end of a few months, Lauzun, not know- ing what to believe, to think, to hope, determined to free himself at any cost from the intolerable position in which he found himself ; he wrote to the young lady he loved to ask what her feelings were, and learn what he might expect in the future. By the connivance of a waiting woman he succeeded in getting his letter delivered ; but Mile, de Beauvau, 66 as beseemed a young girl of breeding, returned it without even having opened it. In despair at this rebuff, which he was far from anticipating, seeing all his hopes extinguished, all his dreams for the future overthrown, Lauzun gave himself up to gloomy dejection. At this juncture M. de Gontaut again pressed him to accept the bride he had chosen for him. Disgusted with life and indifferent to everything, the young man, to the great satisfaction of his family, declared himself will- ing to marry Mile, de Boufflers ; he bargained for only one condition : that he should be allowed two years of liberty ; in two years, day for day, he pledged himself to appear before the altar. The conditions were agreed to. A few months later Mile, de Beauvau's betrothal was announced ; she was to marry the Chevalier de Noailles, better known as the Prince de Poix. The ceremony took place September 9, 1764. 67 F 2 CHAPTER V. 1764—1765. Mme. d'Esparbes — Mme. d'Amblimont — Rupture witli Mme. d'Esparbes — The Due de Chartres — M. de Guemenee — M. de Voyer — Life at Court — Mme. de Stainville. Lauzun, resolved to drown thought and lead the gay life of the youth of his world during the short respite granted to him, began by a flirtation with a little actress of the Versailles theatre ; she was even younger and more inexperienced than he was. At their first assignation — they met in an attic — they were startled by the descent of a huge spider. The apparition disturbed them so greatly that they departed at once, postponing their sweet nothings till they should meet under more favourable cir- cumstances. But a lost opportunity never recurs. M. de Gontaut, warned by some charitable friend of his son's flirtation, and fearing lest it might lead him too far, found means to send the damsel else- where. Lauzun, provoked by this check and the incessant misadventures which so invariably crossed his luck, determined to come back to the ladies of his own circle, and to seek among the acquaintance of 68 Mme. de Pompadour some one kind enough to guide his first steps and accept his youthful de- votion. In Mme. de Pompadour's circle were her two cousins, Mme. d'Esparbes and Mme. d'Ambli- mont. Neither of them affected to be a dragon of virtue ; both accepted very lightly the manners of the time. It was said that Louis XV. had paid some addresses to both. Mme. d'Amblimont, not from austere virtue, but as a faithful fi'iend, had repulsed his Majesty. The scene is amusing enough to be related. One day, at the favourite's, the King went up to Mme. d'Ambli- mont and under some playful pretence tried to give her a note. The lady, preserving her presence of mind, aifected simplicity, hiding her hands behind her, so that the King's billet fell on the floor and he was obliged to pick it up. M. de Gontaut had witnessed the whole scene. After dinner he went to the Comtesse and said : " You are a staunch friend.'' "I only did what I ought," she replied simply, and she laid her finger on her lips to enjoin silence. Mme. de Pompadour, informed by M. de Gontaut of this instance of rare fidelity, was deeply touched : " D'Amblimont is giddy and harum-scarum," she re- plied, '^ but she has more mother- wit and heart than the prudes and bigots. D'Esparbes would not do so much ; perhaps she might even take the initiative." Thenceforth she was more affectionate than ever to Mme. d'Amblimont, and even made the King 69 give her a diamond and emerald necklace worth more than 60,000 livres (£2400).^ Lauzun had long been intimate with Mme. d'Am- blimont and Mme. d'Esparbes. After the various fruitless love affairs of which the vicissitudes have been narrated, it struck him that he was wandering far in search of consolation while it lay close at hand, and he resolved to pay his court to one of his fair friends. He decided in favour of Mme. d'Esparbes, who, like all the women of her time, was absolutely free from prejudice, and regarded morality as made only for the vulgar. But if the conquest was easy it was very short- lived. In the course of the next year (1764) Lauzun found himself by degrees neglected, not wanted, and finally relentlessly dismissed. The Prince de Conde had supplanted him. He entreated and threatened in vain. Mme. d'Esparbes, who did not pride her- self on long attachments, was inexorable. Lauzun would not consider himself beaten. He was young enough to believe that his lady could not remain unmoved by the sight of genuine grief ; instead of regarding his dismissal as final, and submitting to his fate, he requested another interview, hoping to win his cause; it was granted without difficulty. He made his appearance, agitated and tremulous, having prepared certain pathetic speeches which he 1 The King owed Mme. d'Amblimont no grudge, for he heaped her with benefits. He granted her a pension of 10,000 livres (£400) out of the Royal Treasury, rooms at the Arsenal, etc. In 1763 she had a son to whom the King stood sponsor with Mme. de Pompadour. 70 trusted would be irresistible. Mme. d'Esparb^s received him with the calm serenity of an easy con- science, and without giving him time to speak, she said: " You wished to see me. Any other woman in similar circumstances would have refused, but I felt that I owed you some good advice on the strength of the interest we must all feel in an old acquaintance. You really are amazingly childish ! Your theories, your point of view, are devoid of common-sense. Believe me, cousin, romantic behaviour no longer succeeds ; it makes you ridiculous, and that is all." Seeing the hapless youth a little impatient under this amiable flippancy, Mme. d'Esparbes somewhat softened her tone, and gently instructed him in the philosophy of the time, of which as yet he was ignorant; but even this failed to convince the listener, who, at the end of his arguments, broke out in recrimination and threats. "You are too much a gentleman," she coolly replied, "to do me an ill turn, and it would tell more against yourself than against me." And she ended her harangue with these well meant words : " The advice I have given you ought to convince you that friendship and goodwill have survived any warmer feeling I may have had for you." Through all her long tirade Lauzun sat looking foolish ; her serene philosophy to him was not con- vincing. He might have blundered still further, but she rang for her maid, thus putting an end to the situation. To a youth of seventeen, full of illusions and still 71 believing in sentiment, the lesson was a hard one. Perhaps it was necessary ; at any rate it was not thro^vn away. Thus terminated Lauzun's first adventures. These repeated mortifications, so unflattering to his vanity, were the prelude to the conquering career as a lover which gained notoriety. But this last dismissal made him give up all idea of a permanent attachment. It was about this time that he formed an intimacy with the Due de Chartres,^ the Prince de Guemenee,^ and M. de Voyer.^ They dragged him into a life of pleasure and dissipation. The Due de Chartres was then in all the glory of his brilliant youth ; his appearance noble, his figure fine, and his whole person very elegant ; but his face was already disfigured by the taint of his mother's blood and of his licentious life. He excelled in all athletic exercises, few men rode so well or so grace- fully. In a ball room he was always admired. He had had the most deplorable education. His tutor had cared only to give him polish and hon ton ; iaformation, morality and mental training were en- tirely neglected. "If he is not well brought up, at least he will be good-natured ; all the Orleans family are good-natured," people said. And taking this for 1 Louis-Philippe- Joseph d'Orleans (1747-1793), Due de Montpensier, then Due de Chartres, then Due d'Orleans ; Philippe-Egalite. 2 Henri-Louis-Marie de Rohan (1745-1807), Prince de Guemenee, was son of the Prince de Bohan, who lived in retirement on his estates in Tour-aine. 3 Marc Rene, Marquis de Voyer (1722-1782), son of the Comte Voyer d'Argenson. 72 granted, his character was as completely neglected as his studies. As soon as he had grown to manhood his father's first care was to provide him with a mistress, and to Mile. Duthe, at that time but fifteen, the watchful father entrusted his son's happiness. The Due d'Orleans was proud of this proceeding as being a very prudent and tender precaution.' Under such guidance and with such principles it is easy to imagine what the young prince could not fail to become. As soon as he was launched on the world the Due de Chartres chose to amuse himself by affect- ing callousness, recklessness and profligacy. At first this was merely pretence, the foolish airs of youth ; but it was enough to damage his reputation. In fact his heart was cold and unfeeling ; he never really cared for anyone, and had only boon companions ; still the charm of his attractions was so great that he inspired devoted friendships and many durable affections. Lauzun attached himself to this prince with a close regard which survived every vicissitude ; but 1 The Due d'Orleans (1725-1785), father of the Due de Chartres, was grandson of the Regent and first prince of the blood. Very good looking, he was also a man of parts, and of great affability ; hence he was generally beloved. He had no ambition and kept himself in the background. He lived with Mme. de Montesson, whom he proposed to marry when he became a widower ; but the King would not consent. He then had recourse to a private marriage, and it was said that not having been able to make Mme. de Montesson Duchesse d'Orleans, he had made himself M. de Montesson. He resided sometimes at the Palais Royal, sometimes at his delightful place Bagnolet, patronizing artists and men of letters, and often perform- ing in private theatricals. 73 on our hero's career it had a tatal influence, of which we shall see later the disastrous consequences. These are the terms in which M. de Talleyrand speaks of this connection, and the view he took of the friend- ship that bound the two men : " The honour of this devotion is not to be ascribed to M. le Due de Chartres. It belongs solely to M. de Lauzun. M. de Lauzun was brave, romantic, generous and witty. Their nearness in age, in the eager impulses of youth, their resemblance in certain more or less analogous sallies of fun, and in their positions, — almost equally splendid, — had thrown them together. Ere long it needed some courage to befriend M. le Due de Chartres, and generosity to take his part. The demand on these two quali- ties made him the dearer to M. de Lauzun, whose romantic nature subsequently supplied him with all the chimeras which his lofty soul required to keep this sentiment alive. " ^ Though this passage does no honour to the prince, it would be difficult to pen any praise more complete or more delicate of Lauzun, of his refined nature and his magnanimity. The Prince de Guemenee's character was more sympathetic than the Due de Chartres'. With a warm heart and a generous soul, he had made many friends. " He was gifted with a pleasing person," says Besenval, " was gentle and agreeable in society, not inapt at a joke, and understanding one even ^ Talleyrand, Memoirs. M. de Talleyrand, writing long after the Revolution, speaks of the Due de Chartres as the Due d' Orleans, and of Lauzun under the name of Biron. 74 better." The heir to an enormous fortune,* he lived among the most dissipated men about the Court, but his chief intimacy was with Lauzun and the Due de Chartres. These three young men had a fourth companion of whom we must speak ; this was M. de Voyer. A good deal older than they were, his influence over them was lamentable. His fine fortune and considerable talents had made him a reputation. He assumed the func- tions of a professor of morality — but what morality ! — and he had found disciples to follow his precepts. ^' He adopted," says Talleyrand, " the language of metaphysics. He was always talking of the soul — space — the chain of being — abstract ideas — matter — composed of points without thickness or extension — indivisible — and what not ! All these words, never defined, but uttered with pauses, gestures, reservations and mystic signs, prepared the youthful adepts to believe. And then they were taught that all feeling is ridiculous, that every scruple is a weakness, that justice is a superstition, that our interest or our pleasure alone should govern our actions." ^ M. de Voyer's fundamental principle was simple enough. He denied the existence of morality, maintaining that for men of parts it was no more than a word ; that it was without any real existence ; and that as each man must seek its sanction in 1 Among other estates he owned the harbour of Lorient. 2 And it is amusing to find the Prince de Talleyrand inveighing so indignantly against principles which throughout his life he put nto practice. 75 his own conscience, it was a dead letter to those whose mind and whose character were able to rise superior to the attacks of remorse. In short, this code of morals — or rather of immorals — ^had in it nothing that did not conform to the manners and customs of the time ; and it may be said that if M. de Voyer assumed the part of an apostle, he preached only to ready-made converts. It is not the less certain that his companionship could but do fatal mischief to younger men, whom he impressed by his superior age and the learned display of his doctrines. M. de Voyer was married. His wife had the prettiest hands and feet in Paris, but she also had the longest nose, which did not prevent her being bril- liantly clever, and inspiring more than one passion. Lauzun, the Dae de Chartres, Guemenee and Voyer lived in the greatest intimacy. Rich, and of high rank, they considered themselves free to do just what they pleased, and committed a thousand follies. Paris was constantly ringing with the tale of some fresh escapade. One among many made a great stir. The Marquis de Gevres had not chosen to accede to some wish expressed by Mme. de Tingry,^ with whom, at that moment, Lauzun was in favour. Lauzun, therefore, and his friend Guemenee, with a party of other young fools of their own age, carried 1 She was recently married to Charles Francois de Mont- morency- Luxembourg, born November 30, 1713, Prince de Tingry, Governor of Valenciennes, and Captain of one of the four companies of the Body-guard. 76 off M. de Gevres at night, flung him into a chaise, and galloped off at a top pace. At the first stage, the Marquis called for help, but his tormentors had explained that he was a madman, and everybody fled in terror. They had gone several stages beyond Fontainebleau when M. de Gevres gave in, and pro- mised to do anything they might demand, to recover his liberty. This adventure made a great noise, and the ques- tion was even mooted of consigning these scapegraces to the Bastille. The Dauphin was dying, and though the King had no love for his son, the moment was ill chosen for such a pleasantry. Lauzun, somewhat uneasy at the rumours that were afloat, wanted to know exactly where he stood, and he set out for Fontainebleau to join the King's hunt. Louis XV. did not say a word to him, and the report soon spread that the young courtier was irrecoverably disgraced. Lauzun would not despair, and the same evening attended " orders," that is to say he went to receive the King's orders for the following day. As soon as he saw him, the monarch went up to him and said : " You are a wrong- headed crew, but after all you are diverting rascals. Come and sup with me in my private rooms (dans les cabinets), and bring M. de Guemenee." What exactly were these suppers in the " Cabi- nets " or private apartments, of which mention has so often been made, and which will yet be fre- quently alluded to in the course of this narrative ? These suppers were the object of much ambition to n the courtiers, and an invitation was one of the most envied marks of royal favour ; but the number of the elect was limited, and the candidates passed through a humiliating ordeal of etiquette. '' These supper parties consisted of the King and about thirty in- vited guests. They were given in the King's most private apartment, consisting of so few rooms that the billiard table was covered with boards to serve as a sideboard, and that the King was obliged to abridge his game to make way for the servants. Ladies were invited in the morning, or the day before ; they wore an old-fashioned Court dress, fallen into desuetude except for these occasions ; a goAvn, a pleated sacque, and long lace lappets. They assembled in the small theatre, where a bench was reserved for them. After the performance they followed the King to his apartments. The fate of the men was not so smooth. There were two benches opposite those which the invited ladies occupied. The courtiers who wished to be invited took their places on these ; this was called presenting your- self for the apartments (se presenter pour les cabinets). During the performance, the King, who sat alone in his box, studied the benches through an opera-glass, and he might be seen writing down a certain number of names with a pencil. The gentlemen who had placed themselves on the benches, collected in a room leading to the cabinets, and shortly after, an usher, with a taper in his hand, and the little list written by the King, half-opened a door and called out a name. The blest elect bowed to the others, and was 78 admitted to the holy of holies. The door then opened again, another was called, and so on to the end of the list. Then the usher shut the door with a slam which was part of the ceremony."'^ This noise announced that all hope was lost, and those who had not been called hung their heads and went away. His life in the world, his love affairs and his pleasures, never kept Lauzun from fulfilling all the duties incumbent on him as lieutenant of the guards, that is to say his frequent turn on duty at Versailles or any other royal residence when the King was there. Xor did he any more neglect his devoirs as a courtier ; and they constituted no sinecure if we consider the thousand obligations which those who frequented the Court assumed as binding — at any rate, if, like him, they did not wish to be forgotten. And since his whole family were most intimately attached to the persons of the King and of Mme. de Pompadour, it was incumbent on him to display a particular assiduity which absorbed the greater part of his time. We cannot but fancy it is a dream when we look on at the life, like that of an Eastern potentate, which Louis XIV. instituted and his successors faithfully kept up. The whole day is filled with a series of ceremonies as elaborate as they are puerile. From the time he rises till he goes to bed again the King never has an instant to himself. In the morning he is hardly awake when the Princes are admitted to his room, and then, in strictly regulated order, the 1 Unptiblished Memoirs of Mme. X. 79 courtiers, who are waiting in crowds in the ante- rooms. In the presence of all these people the King gets out of bed, puts on his slippers and a dressing gown. When his shirt has been presented by a prince of the blood, if one is present — if not, by the man highest in rank — the officer of the wardrobe puts on his Majesty's left sleeve, the groom of the chambers puts on his right. Each service, in short, dresses one half of the royal person. All the rest of the toilet proceeds with the same ceremony. The King then attends Mass, always followed by a numerous suite. During the day all is equally public ; at meals, at cards, at the music, out hunting, the throng of courtiers is even greater, since ladies also are admitted. There is not an act of the sovereign's life that is not subject to rigorous etiquette. On going to bed a no less complicated ceremonial was observed than at rising. The King came from the private apartments followed by his attendants, but took no notice of the crowd of courtiers who respectfully awaited him. The royal bed was enclosed by a wooden railing at a certain distance all round, and leaning on this balustrade was strictly prohibited. M. de Crequi having one day inadver- tently laid his hand on it while awaiting the arrival of Louis XV., the usher in attendance said to him : " Monsieur, you are profaning the King's bed- chamber." As soon as he entered the room, the King passed within the enclosure, followed by the Almoner on 80 duty bearing a prayer-book and a candlestick with two tapers ; lie held the light while the King read his prayers. This ended, the head valet carried the candlestick to some gentleman named by the King, and he held it during the rest of the coucher. This was a highly coveted distinction. The King's coat was taken off, his waistcoat, and lastly his shirfc ; he was stripped to the waist. His nightshirt was pre- sented with the same ceremony as his day shirt at the lever. This reception was generally soon over ; it depended on the releveurs, a name applied to those courtiers who had the art of making the King talk, and whose gossip sometimes prolonged the ceremony. When the monarch had had enough of it he sat down ; his pages drew off his shoes and dropped them with a noise which was part of the etiquette. As soon as he heard it, the usher opened the door saying, " Pass out, gentlemen," and the crowd with- drew. Only the holder of the candlestick had a right to remain, if he had something particular to say to the King; thus the value attached to the privilege is easily understood. What the existence of a courtier might be in the midst of these many functions can be imagined ; especially that of a young man anxious, as Lauzun was, of securing his future fortunes and preserving his master's favour. But our hero, in the exuber- ance of youth, was equal to all occasions, and at the same time to the requirements of his rank and his pleasures. He even found time to move in society and win fresh successes. 8i G The Duchesse de Gramont seemed always to look upon him kindly, and he was assiduous in his visits to her drawing-room. He there met again a lady with whom he had some time since been desperately in love. Mme. de Stainville, who had now been three years married, had improved greatly, and her beauty made a sensation. Lauzun had not forgotten the somewhat disdainful fashion of his dismissal, and at first treated her with extreme coldness; the Comtesse, by the common rule of contraries, showed the young man great cordiality. Just at this time too M. de Stainville took a small house in the Faubourg St. Germain, and troubled himself no further about his wife. The attentions which Mme. de Gramont showered on Lauzun contributed greatly to pique Mme. de Stainville's vanity ; she suddenly discerned that he was not so much to be despised as she had thought. One day when Mme. de Stainville had been ill, Lauzun called to inquire after her health ; he found her alone, and stayed to chat. After some conversa- tion on indifferent matters, Mme. de Stainville opened fire by some jesting on the brief duration of Lauzun's affection, saying at last point-blank, "You are destined to play a great part, and can achieve no greater triumph than the conquest of Mme. de Gramont." — " I do not know what you mean," said Lauzun, cautiously. " Mme. de Gramont has long shown me great friendship, and you cannot imagine that she has any other feeling." — " Pardon my indiscretion," replied Mme. de Stainville, "I 82 know what I am talking about. ... I love you, and I am frank enough to tell you so. Be equally candid with me, and answer me without reserve. Are you in love with Mme. de Gramont, or do the necessities of fortune bind you to her ? " Lauzun was somewhat staggered by so full and frank a declaration. Antagonistic feelings struggled in his soul, and he was strangely embarrassed. On one hand he was flattered by the attentions paid him by Mme. de Gramont, already a woman of some celebrity, with all the Court at her feet ; on the other, what could he say to a pretty young woman, whom he had once adored, and who now flung herself at him? He deserted from Mme. de Gramont. She was the first to perceive what was going on, but she was too clever to betray any vexation. Not long after, Mme. de Stainville told Lauzun that he had a would-be rival in the Due de Choiseul, who would take no repulse ; he tried to insist on Lauzun's dismissal, but in vain. M. de Stainville, however, probably warned by Choiseul, suddenly discovered that Lauzun was too frequently at his house, and that his presence was compromising. He positively forbade his wife to receive the young man. They both were in despair. Lauzun, happily, had taken a small box at the Italian playhouse, and there they contrived to meet at the risk of end- less perils. It had for some time been the fashion at the 83 G 2 principal Paris theatres to sit in these little boxes shut in with screens. They were regarded as a sort of boudoir; ladies brought their lap-dogs, their cushion, their foot- warmer ; they came in morning dress, gossiped and received their privileged acquaint- ance ; when there was nothing better to do they attended to the play ; at a pinch the box served for an assignation, as in the case of Lauzun and Mme. de Stain ville.^ 1 These boxes, in view of the various uses that could be made of them, naturally became extremely popular. There was, indeed, such a demand for them, that at the Theatre Frai]9ais a part of the pit was filled up with boxes ; each let at 4800 livres a year (£192). 84 CHAPTER VI. 1764—1765. The King's Journeys — Death of Mme. de Pompadour — Lauzun's ilhiess — The banishment of the Jesuits — Death of the Dauphin. The year 1764 was important and eventful. In March, Mme. de Pompadour fell iU in the course of a journey to Choisy. Before giving an account of her illness and its termination, we will give a brief sketch of these Court journeys, and the constant moves and changes which are so frequently mentioned. In the course of the year the Court moved in succession to aU the royal residences, and they were many ; the more important were Choisy, Saint- Hubert, Crecy, Compiegne, and Fontainebleau. The King's shorter visits to his country estates were called his little journeys. On the first day of the year, Louis XV. marked on an almanack the dates of his arrival at each, and nothing could afterwards alter the arrangements then made. This series of endless peregrinations commonly began at Choisy. Then came a stay at Compiegne ; this was the first great journey. From thence he went to Saint-Hubert. 85 Finally, in the autumn, he established himself at Fontainebleau ; this was the second great journey. It was here that the finest hunts were held ; the fete of Saint-Hubert was kept there, and the King magnificently entertained his Court. There was some fresh diversion every day. French and Italian actors came to perform ; there were concerts, balls, and gambling. Politics, too, held their place at Fontainebleau ; palace-revolutions were there plotted, and it was almost admitted that ministerial intrigues were settled there ; war and peace were decided on ; schedules of expenditure for the following year were drawn up — that is to say the ways and means of procuring money were discussed. The etiquette prescribed for the King's journeys was most singular. Ladies and gentlemen alike came to inscribe themselves {s^inscrire) as it was called ; that is to say they went to the lodgings of the first gentleman in waiting and wrote their names on a list laid out for the purpose. From this list a selection was made for invitation ; those who were not to be asked were struck out, so that omission bore the disgrace of rejection.-^ In residence the customs varied with the difi'erent places. The guests were often lodged and supplied with furniture and food ; they were boarded at the various tables provided for the princes and princesses in the rooms they occupied, at the King's expense, ^ Under the Restoration, the Dauphiness wished to revive this practice, but no one would agree to be subjected to it. 86 of course. In the evening everyone assembled in the great drawing-room, and that was the Court pure and simple. At Fontainebleau visitors were only given rooms with four bare walls ; they had to find themselves in furniture, linen, and so forth, and live as best they might. As a matter of fact all the Ministers, and certain court officials (the Charges,^ as they were called) had their establishment, and the princes kept a table for their suites, so much that it was easy to get invitations to dinner and to supper ; but no one took any trouble about your having anything beyond a roof over your head. When the chateau was full — and a large part of it was so much out of repair as to be unin- habitable — the guests, or rather the admitted visitors, were quartered in the town ; the names were scrawled on the doors with chalk, as in an inn.^ These sojourns in the royal residences entailed enormous expenses on the King. Besides the courtiers whom he invited, he could never stir without being attended by a swarm of servants, officers, function- aries of every description and every degree. As soon as the King moved he swept in his train several thousand persons, to the great depletion of the royal coffers. But to return to Mme. de Pompadour, whom we left ill on the journey to Choisy. Her attack was at first supposed to be a trifling ailment ; but a malig- 1 These were the Captain of the Guards on duty, the first gentleman in waiting, the chief equerry, the Governess of the royal children, and the first lady of the Queen's household. 2 Unpublished Memoii's of Madame X. 87 nant fever presently declared itself, and her state rapidly became worse. M. de Gontaut, Lauzun, the Due de Choiseul and his wife, who were all strongly attached to her, were in the greatest anxiety. Mme. de Choiseul wrote to Mdme. du DefFant : " Mme. de Pompadour has coughed a great deal, and has had a good deal of fever this past night, my dear child. Still, we are assured that her condition is not dan- gerous ; but I am uneasy because I love her. And how should I help loving her ? You know what I told you about her yesterday. To gratitude I add esteem for her. From that you may suppose whether she has a better friend in all the Court than I." When she believed the favourite was saved she " bathes in joy." But the hopes to which a transient improvement gave rise were of brief duration ; the complaint soon became more severe, and no further illusion was possible as to the fatal issue which must result. The Marquise, who preserved all . her presence of mind, awaited death with a calmness and smiling philosophy of which this period affords many exam- ples. She accepted the last offices of religion with great simplicity and without blenching. A few hours before her end the Cure of the Madeleine came to see her ; as he was taking leave of her she said : "A feAV minutes and we can go away together." She died on Sunday, April 15. Cheverny gives some heartrending details of the circumstances attending this premature death, parti- 88 culars of a nature to inspire melancholy reflections. A strict law absolutely prohibited the presence of a dead body in any royal abode, as nothing was to be allowed to suggest the brevity of human life. This prohibi- tion, barbarous as it might be, was carried out relentlessly in regard to the remains of her who, but a few days before, had all France at her feet. The poor woman's corpse was not yet cold when it was thrown naked on a bier and covered with a sheet so scanty that the shape of the face and body were distinctly outlined. It was in " this strange conveyance " that the mortal remains of the Marquise de Pompadour were carried by two common porters across the courts of the chateau and through the streets of Versailles, and deposited, until the funeral, in a private house in the town. The Duchesse de Praslin, who from a window of the palace saw the dreadful bier pass, was overcome by horror and burst into tears. The King as usual controlled his feelings, and allowed little of his deepest emotions ^ to be seen ; nevertheless, whatever may have been said, he was genuinely grieved. On the day of the funeral there was a fearful hurri- cane ; it was six in the evening when the procession ^ Either from indifference, or more probably because lie assumed a voluntary mask to conceal his secret emotions, Louis XV. gener- ally appeared not to feel deeply the death of those about him. When he lost his daughter, Mme. Infante, Duchess of Parma, he was obliged, in conformity to custom, to give all the orders for her interment, and to enter into every detail ; he talked of it and aiTanged it all as though she had been a stranger. And yet he was very fond of her. 89 • started on the high road to Paris, the Marquise having desired to be buried at the convent of the Capuchins, Place Vendome, where she had prepared " a splendid apartment." The King, attended by Champlost,' had posted himself on a balcony outside his room ; he preserved a religious silence and watched the proces- sion with melancholy looks. Heedless of the rain and raving wind, he remained outside till the funeral train was out of sight. He then withdrew into the room ; two large tears trickled down his cheeks, and he could only say these words, broken by sobs : " Alas, these were the only honours I could pay her." ^ The Due and Duchesse de Choiseul expressed the keenest grief and deep regret. Their door was closed to visitors for some days. The Duchesse sent to ask M. de Marigny ^ for the Marquise's little dog, which she wished to have as a souvenir of her friend ; the Comte did not refuse, but, mean as he was in all he did, he took care to remove the dog's collar because it was of silver. M. de Gontaut, who had lost in the favourite a true and faithful friend — a tried friend — was for a long time inconsolable ; in remembrance of their long affection she left him by her will '^ a ring, white and rose colour, in diamonds tied with a green knot, and a cornelian box which he had always particularly admired." * 1 His head valet. ^ Chevemy, Memoires. 3 Mme. de Pompadour's brother. '^ Mme. de Pompadour forgot none of those who had been her intimates. To each she left a remembrance : — 90 Lauzun seemed not less affected than his father by the favourite's death ; the proofs of affection he had always received from her had led to a very sincere attachment on his part, and the loss to him was doubly painful. Nor was it only her own particular friends who were utterly upset by Mme. de Pompadour's death ; the whole Court was thrown into consternation by 'the unexpected event. What would become of the King ? Isolated in the midst of his family, repelled by the Queen's gloomi- ness, by his son's austerity, and the narrow, squalid bigotry of his daughters, what course could he take ? Which way would he turn ? At first no change was made. Only two evenings were devoted to decent retirement ; on the third day, after hunting at Rambouillet, the King went upstairs to Mme. de Pompadour's room. ^' It was unaltered except that the bed had been removed. There were present Mme. de Gramont, Mme. de Beauvau,^ M. de Choiseul, M. de Chauvelin, M. de " To the Duchesse de Choisenl a silver box set with diamonds. " To Mme. de Gramont a box with a butterfly set with dia- monds. '' To the Due de Choiseul an aqua-marine tinted diamond, and a black box pique, and a cup. "To the Marechal de Soubise a ring by le Guay, representing friendship : ' It is his likeness and mine, these twenty years that I have known him.' "To Mme. d'Amblimont my set of emeralds," etc., etc. (Mme. de Pompadour's will.) 1 The Due de Beauvau had married a second time, March 14, 1764. Marie Charlotte Sylvie de Rohan-Chabot (b. December 12, 1729), with whom he had a liaison since 1750, was the widow of 91 Gontaut, M. de Soubise and the other members of his private circle. The name of her who for eighteen years had inhabited this room, and who had gathered there all that made the King's home life, was not even spoken." ^ The suppers in the private apartments were served as of old, and life went on in the same way. But every brain was busy. No one doubted that the King would take another mistress. Every woman of fashion was ready to catch the glove if the King should throw it, but no one suited him. " Women who, without charms set up for preten- sions, buzzed about him hoping to make up by their wits for lack of youth and of everything else." In fact it was an official position that had fallen vacant, and to which succession was coveted. The functions to be sure had of late years been somewhat altered, and were in some respects a sinecure. The King, it was well known, had a little seraglio, and no one could hope to change a mode of life to which Mme. de Pompadour had allowed him to become accustomed. What was aimed at was to fill the place she had held, and to hold Court with brilliancy and dignity. the Marquis de Clermont d'Amboise, who had very opportunely died in 1761. He was thu^y years older than his wife. The Princesse de Beauvau was a woman of particular distinction in society for her mind, air, and manners ; her conversation was agreeable, her friendship trustwort,hy, her mind elevated ; but she could never divest herself of excessive pride. Besides herself and her friends everybody in her eyes was mean and interested. Being very intimate with Mme. deGramontand Mme. deChoiseu], she at once became a member of the small royal circle. ^ Talleyrand, Memoires. 92 The Duchesse de Gramont did not think the part beneath her merits ; she entered the lists, it is said? and if we are to believe an ungenerous chronicler, she did not wait for the King to invite her services. The sovereign, offended and annoyed, had had enough of her, and avoided any second dangerous tete-a-tete with the lady. Not long before Mme. de Pompadours death Lauzun had been promoted to be Lieutenant of the Gardes Frangaises, but he had not long enjoyed his superior rank when he fell ill of an attack on the lungs, and during more than a twelvemonth he could do nothing but take care of himself. This he managed to do so successfully that he completely recovered. In the course of this year two events occurred at Versailles of which we must speak briefly ; though not actually a part of this narrative, they are essentially connected with it, and will frequently be alluded to. The famous Society of Jesus, which had thrown out its ramifications and exerted its influence throughout the world, had for some years past met with bitter reverses. So early as in 1758, as a result of a treasonable attempt against the King of Portugal, Pombal had arrested every Jesuit in the kingdom and turned them out, to the number of more than six hundred, on the strand at Civita Vecchia.^ In France certain commercial scandals attracted attention to the proceedings of the Society. 1 The Pope at the time was Clement XIII. (Rezzonico) . 93 An edict of August 6, 1761, pronounced the doctrine of the Jesuits " murderous and abominable." ^ In 1762 the parlement of Paris enacted that they were henceforth for ever to renounce the name, the habit, the vows and rule of their Society, and that they should within a week evacuate all seminaries, colleges and the like. A second edict of 1764 required all Jesuits who wished to remain in France to take an oath pledging them not to live under the control of the Institution, and abjuring all the con- demned paragraphs. Trusting to the number and power of their partisans, the Jesuits refused to take the oath required of them by the government. In answer to this refractory conduct the Order was suppressed, and all its members expelled from France.^ The philosophical party was triumphant. This party daily grew more numerous and more formid- able. " It comprehends almost everybody," Walpole writes,^ "and more especially those who, avowing war against popery, aim many of them at a subversion of all religion, and still many more at the destruction of regal power." 1 It ordered that their books should be torn and burnt in the Conii} of the Palace of Justice by the hands of the executioner, as being seditious and destructive of all the principles of Christian morality ; also that all their schools should be closed. 2 Three years later they were in the same way banished from Spain by Carlos III. Their expulsion was accomplished with so little difficulty that the Danish envoy remarked in a drawing-room : ''I see that the art of getting rid of the Jesuits improves daily." In 1773 Clement XIV. decreed the complete suppression of the Society. In 1814 Pius VII. revoked the bull of Clement XIV. 3 To Conway, Oct. 28, 1765. 94 The joy of the philosophers was immense : " We are on the eve of having no more Jesuits," Alembert writes in great glee, " and what amazes me is that the grass is growing as usual and the sun has not hidden its face. Nay, the last eclipse even was not so dark as we expected it to be. The universe does not feel its impending loss." ^ The Society of Jesus had powerful allies at Court ; the Queen and the Dauphin in particular were under its governance, and they made desperate efforts to save it. But in vain ; not only was the decree against the Jesuits put into execution, but they were proceeded against without consideration or mercy. The banishment of this powerful order raised a terrible storm of hostility against Choiseul, for he was held responsible for the measure, and he was loudly accused of wishing to modernize religion in France. The darkest anticipations agitated men's minds ; the President d' Aiguilles declared that, with the destruction of the Jesuits, " Anglicism, otherwise called republicanism, would some day control the spirit of the nation." ^ The Queen, far from concealing her sentiments, announced ostentatiously before everyone that she was about to embroider a piece of furniture for the first Jesuit house that should be reopened.^ 1 April 6, 1764. 2 In the eyes of despotic governments the English representative government was regarded as a republic in disguise. 3 They were very soon forgotten. " There is no more talk now of the Jesuits than if they had never existed," says Marin, Decem- ber 14, 1767. "Before long when they are mentioned it will be asked what kind of animal they were." 95 The hatred for Choiseul, however, broke out. The partisans of Soubise, having seen the abortive attempts made by Mme. de Gramont, thrust for- ward Mme d'Esparbes as a candidate for Mme. de Pompadour's place. The intrigue seemed perfectly successful, and Mme. d'Esparbes was about to be proclaimed at Marly, where she already had rooms, when by one little speech Choiseul brought to ruin the scaffolding so elaborately planned. Meeting Mme. d'Esparbes on the grand staircase, in the presence of all the Court he took her by the chin, saying, " Well, little lady, and how are your affairs prospering ? " The Marquise, in consternation, had no reply ready. Choiseul went on, and related the incident to Soubise, to Chauvelin, to all the Court circle. " The women who do not love the Due de Choi- seul, and they are many," writes Comte Xavier de Saxe, "are furious at the cowardice displayed by la d'Es^parbes, and regard her as a simpleton and a prude, declaring that in her place they would have dealt two sound slaps on the ministerial cheeks to teach him to give himself such airs of taking a lady by the chin ! " ^ This public insult put an end, nevertheless, to all the schemes of the cabal ; the King would not hear of the Marquise again ; he banished her to Montauban by a lettre de cachet. The Jesuits in quitting France flattered them- selves with the hope that their absence would be of short duration, that the day of reinstatement 1 July 8, 1765. 96 was at hand, that their chief mainstay, the Dauphin, would ere long mount the throne, and that his first care would be to recall them. But Providence was about to deal a fatal blow to the Society of Jesus, and snatch away its last hopes. The Dauphin's health, always delicate, was be- coming worse and worse in spite of the greatest care. In the month of June, 1765, he set out for Compiegne. The regiment named after him, the Dauphin's dragoons, followed him thither, and the Prince reviewed their manoeuvres on horse and on foot. He took a chill during one of the manoeuvres, and a few days after a disease of the lungs became evident, which made frightful progress in the course of a few months. The Prince bore his malady with calmness and fortitude, though he knew that he was irrevocably doomed ; he awaited death with the re- signation of a Christian. The King's grief at watching the extinction of the heir to the throne was very great ; not that he had any particularly tender feeling for his son, but that he thought him important to the stability of the monarchy. In fact, he wrote to Choiseul, October 5, 1765 : — " The last reflection which stabs me to the heart, and which I dare not confide to anyone : the condition of my son. If I should lose him, a child for years to come will be very small support. With my son at any rate I am sure of a ready and recognized successor, and that is everything in view of the republican masses." Public prayers were offered up and religious pro- 97 H cessions organized to beseech Heaven for the Prince's restoration. This utterly unbelieving society, which recognized only the exterior and decorative side of religion, submitted hypocritically to established practices, because it was the correct thing to con- form. " Here," writes Walpole, " they still die in ceremony, though few pretend to more than acting that farce ; few to so much as that." ' It was no farce to the Dauphin, far from it ; he died in a frame of the most exalted piety, after receiving the last sacraments in the presence of the whole Court. He was only thirty-six years of age.^ " Poor France ! " exclaimed Louis XV., on hearing the fatal news. " A King of fifty-five and a Dauphin of eleven ! " 1 To Sir H. Mann, JSTovember 3, 1765. 3 BevuG de Paris, 1829. The nnliappy Piince died at Fontaine- bleau. From his bed he could see the courtyard of the chateau. All the courtiers were awaiting his death to return to Paiis, and, not to lose a minute, were hurrying their packing. The trunks were being dropped out of the windows and loaded on to vehicles under the very eyes of the sufferer. His physician, Breuille, tried to keep np his hopes ; but the Dauphin, pointing sadly to what was going on, replied : " I must make haste to die ; I am tiring out too many people's patience." 98 CHAPTER VII. 1766. The Due de Lauznn's Marriage — That of the Prince de Guemenee. "January 26, 1766. " M '' Monsieur le Due de Biron, Monsieur Le Marechal de Biron, and Monsieur le Due de Gontaut have the honour to inform you of the marriage of Monsieur le Comte de Biron * to Mademoiselle de Boufflers." In these terms Lauzun's marriage was announced in the early days of 1766. The time fixed by the young man himself had come ; the years of respite so earnestly solicited had gone by. The two families had reminded the bridegroom of his promise, and though he was still very much in love with Mme. de Stainville, though his sentiments were unchanged with regard to the young girl to whom he was pledged, he expressed himself ready to play his part with a good grace. 1 He was not yet Due de Lauzun. This communication (in the form still usual in France) is printed, and bears no date. The year is written in at the top, 1766. Bibliotheque Nationale, pieces originales. (Gontaut, vol. 1357, fol. 298.) 99 H 2 The marriage contract set forth that the parties were to be united " with the consent of their Majesties the King and Queen, and of the royal family, Mgr. le Due de Chartres, Mgr. le Prince de Conde, Mgr. le Prince de Conti, Princes of the blood royal. " And of Mme. la Comtesse de Toulouse, M. le Due de Penthifevre, and Mgr. le Due de Lamballe, his son, legitimized princes of the realm." ^ Mdlle. de Boufflers received magnificent gifts from her family. She had a dower of more than 150,000 livres a year (£6000) and 45,000 livres worth of diamonds. The King, the Queen and the royal family 1 " And in the presence of their relations here designated. That is to say : on the part of the aforesaid seigneur Comte de Biron. the intending bridegroom," of his paternal uncle the Ducde Bii^on, and the Duchesse de Biron ; his paternal aunt the Comtesse de Seignelay ; his paternal aunt the Comtesse de Noure ; his paternal cousin the Comte de Gontaut; the Due de Choiseul, and the Duchesse de Choiseul, his maternal aunt. And of the Duchesse de Gramont and the Archbishop Due de Cambrai, connections. " And on the part of Mademoiselle, the intended bride : " Of the Due de Villeroy, her paternal grand-uncle ; the Marquis de Villeroy, her paternal uncle, d la mode de Bretagne (her first cousin) ; the Comte de Boufflers, her paternal cousin, and the Comtesse de Boufflers, his wife ; the Chevalier de Boufflers, her paternal cousin ; the Comte de Boisgelin de Cuce and the Comtesse his wife ; the Comte de Montmorency, her paternal uncle, and the Comtesse his wife ; the Comte de Broglie, her maternal uncle by marriage; the Comte de Guignes, also her maternal uncle by marriage ; the Prince de Tingry, her maternal cousin, and the Princesse his wife ; and the Comtesse de Chateau-Regnault, her maternal cousin. Also in the presence of the Prince de Soubise ; the Due d'Estrees ; the Marquis d'Armentieres ; the Comte de Chabot ; the Marquis de la Ferriere ; the Comte de Saiut-Florentin ; of Bai'on de Wimpffen, and the Genoese Envoy ; all friends of the gentleman and lady about to marry. lOO witnessed the contract at Versailles on January 26th ; the Princes and Princesses of the blood also at Versailles on February the 2nd, and the contracting parties, with the ladies and gentlemen their relations and friends, at the residence of the Marechale de Luxembourg on the 4th of that month. On the occasion of his marriage the bridegroom was promoted by the King to the rank of adjutant major (supernumerary) of the regiment of Gardes Fran9aises. The Marechale gave a magnificent entertainment on the occasion of her grand-daughter's betrothal ; all the ladies of the court vied with each other in beauty and magnificence. Mme. de Choiseul bore the palm from every rival, and her dress was unanimously pronounced perfect. She wore a blue satin gown covered with mosaic embroidery in a diamond pattern. In each diamond was a silver star edged with gold and surrounded by spangles to match ; a double border of sable fur, relieved by knots and tassels of gold, still further enhanced the splendour of this rich dress ; the Duchesse's head, throat, stomacher and arms were a blaze of jewels. The marriage was performed on Tuesday, February 4, 1766, in the chapel of the Hotel de Luxembourg, No. 16, Rue Saint-Marc. The fortunate bridegroom was nearly nineteen. Mile, de Boufflers not yet fifteen. All the highest and most illustrious person- ages of the Court were present at the ceremony. In the evening the family met at a great dinner given lOI by Mme. de Choiseul ; everyone seemed delighted, excepting the chief actor, whose long-drawn, anxious face struck even the least clear-sighted. As to the Due de Gontaut, he was exultant, convinced that the future would neutralize the bitterness of the present, and that, after all, the worst that could happen was that his son's marriage should turn out no better than the other marriages of the time. Really there was nothing to grieve over so deeply. Mme. de Stainville came in after the banquet to oiFer her congratulations ; and in the midst of the crowd she and Lauzun had an opportunity of swearing eternal attachment. Jean-Jacques Rousseau had known Amelie de Boufflers at Montmorency, where she spent every summer on her grandmother's estate : " She is a charming creature," he writes. " She has the face, the gentleness, the modesty of a Virgin. Nothing can be more amiable or more interesting than her counten- ance, nothing more tender or chaste than the feelings she inspires." ^ How was it that Lauzun could remain indifferent to so much charm, and insensible to such candour and beauty? In point of fact his young wife, though really very charming, was no more than a shy, bewildered child ; she had none of the qualities requisite to attract a fine gentleman who, young as he was, had already exhausted the pleasures and been perverted by the morals of the Court. 1 Confessions, part ii. bk. x. I02 Lauzun nevertheless endeavoured to act becom- ingly to his young wife and to show her the considera- tion due from a gentleman. He was too just to demand the liking of a woman for whom he felt none ; he meant of course to preserve his liberty, but he did not conceive that his wishes in that particu- lar need be incompatible with a certain degree of intimacy, and life on a friendly footing. Unhappily, Amelie de Lauzun, timid and utterly inexperienced, held aloof, and from the very first days their married life seemed to go as wrong as possible. Not long after the marriage the young Duchesse de Lauzun (Comtesse de Biron still) was one of a small party at supper at her aunt's, Mme. de Choiseul ; there were only a few intimate friends : Mme. du DeiFant, the Abbe Barthelemy and Doctor Gatti. As to the husband — he, of course, was already an absentee. Mme. du DeiFant has sketched the young wife with a pen somewhat mordant perhaps, but probably truthful enough : " We dined a party of five," she says ; " the doctor and the little wife went home early to bed. The doctor does not lack wit ; the little wife is a little bird who has not yet learnt any of the tunes that are whistled to her; she utters feeble sounds which end in nothing. But as her plumage is fine, she is praised and admired in- cessantly ; her timidity is thought pleasing, and her little scared manner interesting ; for my part I doubt what may come of it. The ' Idol ' ^ is taming her, and 1 The Marquise de Boufflers, who was nicknamed the Idol of the Temple. 103 with her she seems to be happy. This ^ Idol ' goes quietly to dine with only the husband and wife ; she believes that it gives her importance. Good heavens, what fools there are in the world ! " It is easy to imagine how little to Lauzun's taste this " little bird " must have been who was being trained to sing like the blackbirds, and we can quite understand his leaving to Mme. de Boufflers the task of taming and pruning the school-girl who had been handed over to him. As for himself, he went on with his life as though nothing new had come into his existence. Granting the customs of the eighteenth century, there is nothing unusual or shocking in his attitude, and it is hard to say why Lauzun has been so severely blamed for conduct which was at that time common to all young husbands. Not long after Lauzun's marriage, his intimate friend, the Prince de Guemenee, followed his example. He married his cousin Victoire Armande de Rohan- Soubise,^ daughter of the Mar^chal de Soubise. By this connection M. de Guemenee, on his father-in-law's death, became the head of the house of Rohan. In honour of her marriage the young Princesse de Guemenee was appointed Governess in reversion to the royal children ; she would therefore succeed to the office of her aunt, Mme. de Marsan. She had indeed been educated by Mme. Marsan, and trained from childhood to the high functions she was to fulfil. * Bom December 28, 1743. She was Mme. de Marsan's niece, and sister of the deceased Princesse de Cond^. 104 Mme. de Marsan still had under her direction Mesdames Clotilde and Elizabeth, the Dauphin's sisters. M. de Guemenee, on his part, was appointed to the command in reversion of the Prince de Soubise's corps of men-at-arms. The contract was signed in the King's rooms, and the Princes of the blood and ambassadors were invited with great ceremony. Those persons who took umbrage at the high pretensions of the Rohans were indignant at so much ostentation, and a thousand vexations resulted from it. For that matter, such disputes between the royal princes and the nobility were incessant. The nobility were every day putting forward some fresh claims. A princely marriage, a Court fete, was the source of intermin- able squabbling, and little by little the Princes of the blood were being shorn of all their preroga- tives. Lauzun and Gu^m^nee tried at first to establish an intimacy between their young wives ; but the women were of very dissimilar natures, and Mme. de Lauzun' s extreme shyness could not get on with Mme. de Guemenee's more superficial manners and greater ease. They never got beyond relations of simple politeness ; but Lauzun and his friend con- tinued on no less intimate terms than before, and we shall see their lives run on in almost frfitemal affection till the end of their days. 105 CHAPTER VIII. Mme. de Lanznn's visit to Chantelonp. A FEW montlis after her marriage it was decided that Mme. de Lauzun should spend some days at the chateau of Chanteloup, on a visit to her Aunt de Choiseul, who spent part of the year there/ This visit, which she had to pay alone, agitated her terribly, for she was always excessively timid, and at the slightest word would colour and lose her presence of mind. However, before setting out she called on her aunt's friends with the most amiable intentions, to announce her plans and take their messages. She naturally was careful not to forget Mme. du DefFant, though it was never without a qualm that she crossed the threshold of the appalling drawing-room at the convent of Saint- Joseph. Mme. du DeiFant was distantly related to Mme. de Choiseul.^ Notwithstanding great difference of age, a warm intimacy had grown up between the two women, and the Duchesse de Choiseul had no more ^ From Paris to Cliantelonp there were thirty-four posting stages ; by the care of the Minister the journey was accomplished in thirteen hours. 2 Mme. du Deffant, nee de Vichy- Chamrond, was the grand- daughter on the mother's side of a former Duchesse de Choiseul. 1 06 steadfast and devoted friend. And yet it would have been difficult to find two natures more unlike, whether physically or morally. Mme. du DeiFant was at this time a little old woman, thin, pale, white-haired, who could never have been handsome, and whose face wore an expression of gloomy sadness. She had shared largely in the delinquencies of her time, and had been the mistress of the Regent. Her liaison with the President Renault was known and recognized ; there had pro- bably been others. Then as old age crept on, she had sobered down ; at one time, indeed, it was supposed she would "turn to devotion" (as the phrase went). " I have become quite a reformed character," she wrote to Formont. "I have given up the play ; I go to high Mass at my parish church.^ As to rouge and the President, I shall not do them so much honour as to give them up." ^ 1 Her desire to become more religious led her to pen these subtle and philosophical reflections : *' My health is indifferent, but I do not wish it better ; I should be sorry to have greater strength and activity ; but what I would wish is to be devout, to have faith — not to remove mountains nor to cross the seas dry -foot, but to go from my sitting-room to my closet in the chapel and fill up my day with practices which, by a fresh trick of imagination, would be at least of as much worth as my present occupations. I should read sermons instead of romances, the Bible instead of fables, the lives of the Saints instead of history, and I should be less, or certainly not more bored by this reading than by all I do now ; I should endure with greater patience the defects and vices of other people, I should be less shocked, less disgusted by the absurdities, the falsity, the fibbing that I hear, and so constantly meet with ; in short I should have an Object to whom I could make an offering of all my troubles and to whom I could sacrifice all my wishes. There is a day-dream ! " November, 1772. 2 The President Henault on his part wished to be a convert, 107 She had lost her sight, but this had not otherwise affected her; "I would rather be blind," she said, " than suffer from acute rheumatism ; " but she was a victim to vapours and unconquerable melancholy. Her salon was a daily meeting place for the very best society, and enjoyed a reputation which need not here be dwelt on. Mme. du Deffant made no pretensions to superior wit ; she talked very simply and had no enthusiasms. She described herself very well when she said that she allowed her mind to float in vague- ness.^ In spite of her advanced age and very delicate health she had amazing energy. Her friends stayed talking in her room till three or four o'clock in the morning. One night on returning with Walpole at one in the morning, after supping with him in the country, she proposed " driving on the Boulevard, or to the Foire Saint Ovide, because it was too early to go to bed. It would kill me if I was to continue here," writes the Englishman. Mme. de Lauzun, then, before starting for Chante- loup, went to pay her respects at the convent of Saint-Joseph. Mme. du Deffant made haste to announce to her friend the visitor she was to expect ; at the same time she makes her excuses for not setting out herself, but has she not the best of reasons for not stirring from home ? and he said : " I am hunting up all my faults in order to get rid of them. We have no idea how rich we are till we turn the house out." ^ " I am very far from being like you," she wrote to Mme. de Choiseul. '' I do not hold the springs of my soul in my hands." Dec. 28, 1766. 1 08 " You will have Mme. de Lauzun with you next week," she writes. " Nothing on earth would pre- vent my going to see you if I were among the living, but I can only describe myself as the most alive among the dead ; and I have to think of you to enjoy even that degree of life." ^ And Mme. de Choiseul replies : " Goodness me ! Do not tell me that you are no longer among the living ! It is the heart that lives ; everything else is merely external. If at the age of a hundred you still can love, you will be more truly alive than any young woman of fifteen, however fresh and sound but apathetic ; and if you love, you will be better loved than she can be, and wiU have more reason to cling to life, since you will be beloved." ^ Was this last sentence a mild epigram meant for Mme. de Lauzun ? It might be thought so but for the well-known indulgence and kindliness of the writer. And besides, had not she too had difficulties in the beginning of her life ? Had she not long been misunderstood ? Had she not even now many hidden pangs ? More reasons than enough why she should be merciful, and show her forlorn young niece a great deal of affection and tenderness. The Duchesse was indeed sincerely glad to see the young wife, whose visit was an agreeable variety in the comparative solitude of her life at Chanteloup, and she soon wrote again to Mme. du DefFant, begging her to thank the Marechale de Luxembourg 1 June 18, 1766. 2 June 21, 1766. 109 and the Duchesse de Boufflers very warmly in her name : " I am under a great obligation to them," she says, "for having so kindly consented to lend me Mme. de Lauzun for some time ; I should wish to show them that I am grateful." Mme. du Defiant replies : " I delivered your messages to Mme. de Luxembourg and Mme. de Boufflers. Imagine you can hear all that the mind can think, that the heart can feel, and that manners can dictate. That is their answer." ^ Mme. de Lauzun's stay at Chanteloup was to her delightful; a perpetual enchantment. Mme. de Choiseul welcomed the young woman of fifteen with perfect kindness, and endeavoured in a thousand ways to conquer her shyness and put her at her ease. The first days were devoted to exploring the chateau and the splendid domain that surrounded it. It was the most complete and magnificent establishment belonging to any great noble in Europe.^ The immense chateau, with its crowd of servants, gave the impression of a royal palace. On arriving in the dark and seeing the vast extent of buildings brilliantly lighted inside and out, it was easy to fancy that one had been carried to Versailles. The rooms were furnished with the greatest 1 June 25, 1766. 2 Dutens, Souvenirs d^un Voyageur qui se repose. At a distance of six kilometres (less than four miles) from Amboise, the chateau de Chanteloup was built in 1744 by d'Aubigny. Choiseul bought it in 1763. Under the Restoration it became the propei-ty of the Due d' Orleans, who had it pulled down in 1823. IIO splendour and exquisite taste. The luxury of the polished floors, the mirrors, the furniture of every description, was one of the attractions of this magnificent residence. Mme. de Lauzun was amazed ; she was as de- lighted as a child by all that was shown her : the house, the country, the woods, all were enchanting. The simplicity and geniality of her hostess by degrees won her entirely, and made her charming. The aunt and niece explored the country on horseback, and made long expeditions in the vast woods of the Forest of Amboise. On returning to the chateau Mme. de Choiseul took a pleasure in showing her young friend all she had herself done in the place, and especially the splendid out-houses, where she had got together the rarest specimens of sheep, cattle and swine. Mme. de Lauzun knew nothing of such matters ; but that did not signify ! She was not expected to choose ; she had only to admire on trust the remarkable animals that were passed in review before her. The farm buildings of Chanteloup were in fact famous for their luxury, and one of Mme. de Choiseul' s chief pleasures was to visit her cattle- yards every day and to inspect her stock. She had sixty cows and two bulls brought from Switzerland. These beasts were kept in splendid marble stables, and a large staiF of servants had no other duties than to attend to them. The solitude of Chanteloup was not, however, so complete as might be supposed ; Mme. de Choiseul III had for her companions two old friends, who by their intelligence and cheerfulness contributed to the pleasures of the place. The first was the worthy Abbe Barthelemy, her/, faithful confidant and inseparable friend.^ He was^^ a gentle, kind man, and immensely learned ; " with ' a moderate, affectionate and subtle soul, a lively, ' inquiring and unprejudiced mind ; " there was^: nothing of the antiquary about him beyond great' erudition. His merits would undoubtedly have won * him a brilliant position if he had not abandoned his ^ career and all his prospects to devote himself to the,' Choiseuls, and especially to Madame, whom hep worshipped — quite platonically.^ ?^ Another person who was still at Chanteloup, B,ni\^ who delighted its inhabitants by his sallies and the '.] originality of his character, was Gatti, the celebrated V 1 The Abbe Bartbelemy was curator of tbe King's Cabinet of Medals, and a member of the Academie des Inscriptions. He had been to Rome with the Choiseuls, and had there formed an attach- ment to them which ended only with his life. As soon as Choiseul was made Minister, he named the Abbe to the post of Secretary to the Swiss Guard. This military office given to an ecclesiastic was much laughed about. Immediately after his appointment he appeared at a masked ball at the opera, dressed half in an Abbe's costume and half in the uniform of the Swiss Guard. Barthelemy published, in 1788, the Voyage dujeune Anacharsis. 2 Still, his friends' great affection did not always hinder him from regretting his wrecked career. " You know how deeply conscious I am of all their kindness," he wrote to a friend, " but you do not know that by devoting to them my time, my obscurity, my rest, and above all the reputation I might have won in my pursuits, I have made for their sake the greatest sacrifices of which I am capable ; they come back to my memory sometimes, and then I suffer cruelly. Do not try to comfort me, I am assuredly not to be pitied. I know so well the value of what I have that I would give my life rather than lose it." 112 Florentine physician, the apostle of inoculation. He was a faithful attache of the Choiseuls, and was to be found at Chanteloup almost as often as the Abbe Barthelemy. His simplicity was the delight of the household ; in the afternoon he would play draughts for two sols (one penny) a game, and when he was beaten he would cry and struggle like a child. When out walking, if he found a broken branch and could balance it on his hand, he would walk zig-zag for a quarter of an hour to keep it from falling. " But he has seen, and he knows so much, he is at heart so honest, so kind-hearted, so fond of life and air and walks, that he is excellent."^ Barthelemy and Gatti, both kind and indulgent men, made the shy young visitor welcome; but Gatti, so frequently abrupt and odd, somewhat startled and disconcerted her ; with the Abb^, on the contrary, she was more at her ease, she ventured a little further, and insensibly, under the kindly in- fluences of this environment, she soon began to expand. Life was very enjoyable in this narrow and very familiar circle ; the hours flew swiftly. All the time which was not devoted to exercise or household cares was spent in reading or in games : back- gammon, dice, shuttlecock, and draughts were useful amusements. Sometimes the Abbe sat down to the harpsichord and made it groan under his powerful clutch ; sometimes Mme. de Choiseul took advan- tage of the partiality of an intimate audience, and sang in her " little falsetto voice." 1 The Marqnis de Mirabeau to Mme. de Rochefort. 113 I Mme. de Choiseul was passionately addicted to this rural life, where everyone was satisfied with the present moment and no plans were laid for the next ; where every day was spent in doing and saying the same things again and again without any conscious- ness of repetition ; where peace reigned, that sweet peace of heart and mind which is so precious and so rare.-^ Mme. de Lauzun appreciated this peaceful existence ; she enjoyed it unreservedly, and felt all its charm. She foresaw with regret the moment when she must return home, when a fresh guest, and not one of the least attractive, the Chevalier de Boufilers,^ suddenly invaded the chateau and fascinated all its inhabitants by his liveliness and wit. He too was eccentric, and the Prince de Ligne has painted him admirably in a few touches : " One would be glad," says he, " to pick up all the ideas he has dropped on the highways, with his time and his money. Perhaps he had too much brains to be able to steady them. . . . His kind of face and parts frightened nobody. There was something of the child in his laugh and his awkward demeanour. His head a little bent ; his thumbs stuck out in front like Harlequin ; his hands behind him as if he were warming them or pulling off his gloves ; small, 1 Letter to Mme. du Deffant, May 23, 1767. * The Chevalier de Bonfflers, 1738-1815, Knight of Malta and Marechal de camp in 1784. In 1785 he was appointed Governor of Senegal. He was returned deputy to the States-General in 1789, emigrated in 1792, and lived at Berlin attached to Prince Henry. He did not return to France before 1800. At the commencement of his fortunes Saint Lambert wittily nicknamed him " Voisenon the Great." 114 pleasant eyes that seemed to smile at you ; something kind in his physiognomy ; something simple, gay, innocent, and careless in his figure, and his whole person rather slovenly.^ Altogether it was im- possible to be a better or a wittier creature." He had a passion for travelling about, and spent his time in running all over the world. A friend meeting him one day on the high road exclaimed, "Ah, my dear fellow, how glad I am to find you at home." ^ The Chevalier, as was his wont, was full of life and gaiety. He amused everybody ; made verses and wrote quatrains for the ladies ; but his high spirits and impudence excessively scared Mme. de Lauzun. With Gatti and Barthelemy she showed all the resources of her intelligence ; in the presence of Boufflers she shrank into herself and did not venture to say a word. And the brilliant Chevalier, who could make nothing of this mute behaviour, wrote jestingly to Mme. de Luxembourg : " Mme. de Lauzun is as agreeable as it is possible to be by signs." 1 It is amnsiiig to compare this sketch with one given by Mme. du Defiant in 1767 of the Prince de Ligne : " He is gentle, polite, a good fellow, and a little crazy. He would wish, I fancy, to be like the Chevalier de Boufflers, but he is far from being equally clever ; he is his Gilles.^' * He himself had composed his epitaph : " Ci-git un chevaUer qui sans cesse courut ; Qui sur les gi^ands chemins naquit, vecut, mourut. Pour prouver ce que dit le sage. Que notre vie n'est qu'un voyage." '' Here the remains of a knight errant lie, Bom on the highway, there to live and die, Only to prove the sage's text. This life's a journey — (to the next)." 115 i2 However delightful this visit to Chanteloup, it had to come to an end. In the early days of July, Mme. de Lauzun regretfully took leave of her aunt, pro- mising to see her again soon, and returned to the capital. In reply to all who questioned her about the solitary life and quasi-retreait so ill-suited to a young wife, she replied that she had enjoyed it amazingly, and was passionately fond of Mme. de Choiseul. The day after her return she met Mme. du DefFant, who hurried up to her with delight. " When did you return, madame ? " " Only last evening." " And how is la grand^ maman?"^ "Remarkably well." " When is she coming ? " " In time for Compiegne."^ '^ Dear me ! What a long time yet. Does she re- member me ? " " Yes. She charged me to tell you to write, however sad your letters may be." " My last have not been sad, madame. Are you sure she said that?" "Yes, indeed!" And the poor little duchesse, quite agitated by this formidable tete-a-tete^ murmured the last words in a low and tremulous voice. 1 Mme. du Defiant, in consequence of some jest, always called Mme. de Choiseul la grand' maman, and M. de Choiseul le grand' papa. 2 The Court moved to Compiegne in July. ii6 CHAPTER IX. 1766. Liaison with Mme. de Stainville — The Due de Choiseul — Mme. de Cambis — The Prince de Conti— The Temjple — I'lsle- Adam. Lauzun's marriage had not in any way affected his conduct with regard to Mme. de Stainville, but the difficulties in the way of their meeting were greater every day. Her husband, quite on the alert, did not know how to checkmate their various plans, and devised a thousand counter-plots. Lauzun was several times in real danger ; more than once he was within an ace of being assassinated on quitting the house at night. Nor had he only M. de Stainville to contend with ; he had to elude the police set on his traces by M. de Choiseul. In this, of course, he was seconded by Mme. de Stainville, who on one occasion provoked her brother-in-law beyond forgiveness, an imprudence she lived to rue. Still, and in spite of the obstacles to their meeting, a certain coolness gradually grew up between Lauzun and his mistress ; the passion, which for some months had kept at fever-heat, diminished by degrees ; but, as is rarely the case, they remained the best friends in the world ; they constantly met, and Lauzun 117 always regarded Mme. de Stainville with faithful affection. It was about this time that he was created Due de Lauzun far brevet d'honneur (by Royal letter), the King, who was much attached to him, wishing to announce it to him as a surprise. The young man therefore gave up his title of Comte de Biron, and to avoid taking the name of his father or of his uncles, he revived that of I^auzun, which was in the family, and by which we have called him throughout to prevent confusion. Since his marriage Lauzun had constantly met, at the Mar^chale de Luxembourg's, the Vicomtesse de Cambis,^ sister to the Prince de Chimay and to Mme. de Caraman : " An elegant figure, cleverness and grace, with a great deal of art and love of dress, made her an agreeable woman," and he had paid her some attention. Mme. du DefFant had a fairly good opinion of her. '^ This Cambis pleases me,'* she wrote ; " she has, to be sure, a cold, dry nature, but she has tact, discernment, truthfulness, and pride. I feel a certain wish to please her which enlivens me. She will never be a friend, but I find her good company." Mme. de Genlis, who probably had found her match in Mme. de Cambis, has left a less flattering portrait of the lady : " A person whose mere wit repelled me was Mme. de Cambis ; she was preten- 1 Gabrielle Charlotte Fi%n9oise de Chimay married Jacqnes Fran9ois Vicomte de Cambis, colonel of the infantry regiment known by his name. ii8 tious in every possible way. She was strongly marked by the small-pox, her features were common, her figure fine enough ; she wore the most scornful and impertinent air that anyone ever dared put on before the world." Mme. de Cambis and Lauzun had not gone beyond a few unimportant skirmishes, but they liked each other's wit, when one day Lauzun, being on duty at Versailles, to pass the time went to pay his respects to Mme. de Boisgelin : " A monster of ugliness, but pleasant enough, and as gallant as if she had been pretty." The conversation turned on Mme. de Cambis. After a few more or less trivial remarks, Mme. de Boisgelin, striking her forehead, exclaimed: " Let us make her come here ; write her a line. I have reason to believe that she likes you very much, and she, will come." Lauzun followed this advice and hastily wrote these few lines : " M. de Lauzun commands Mme. de Cambis to come and keep him company at Ver- sailles, where he is now on duty and bored to death " ; and a courier was despatched to Paris with this impertinent message. The most astonishing part of the story is not Lau- zun's amazing indiscretion — there were plenty of such scatterbrains at Court, capable of any folly — but the very unexpected attitude assumed by Mme. de Cambis. Far from being indignant at such a cavalier proceeding, the lady immediately ordered her carriage and set out for Versailles, where she arrived four hours later and was very warmly welcomed. 119 Mme. de Cambis belonged to the best society ; she was very intimate with Mme. de Boufflers, who was known to be the mistress of the Prince de Conti, and she was constantly to be seen at the Temple and at risle-Adam, where she frequently stayed. By a very natural impulse, she wished to introduce Lauzun to the coterie among which she spent her life ; yield- ing to her entreaties, Lauzun consented to appear there now and then, and was soon in high favour. We shall so often have occasion to mention the Prince and his circle that we must here give a slight sketch of them ; showing in a few touches what this scoiety was like with which Lauzun became so inti- mate, and among whom we shall meet with many familiar friends. Louis Francois de Bourbon, Prince de Conti,^ had displayed the greatest valour and conspicuous talents in war ; but he paid little respect to Mme. de Pompadour, and that was enough to secure his being kept at a distance, though the King had a very sincere regard for him. The Prince consoled himself for his semi-disgrace 1 The Prince de Conti, 1717-1776, was the fourth in descent from a brother of the Grand Conde. Married at the age of eigh- teen to Louise Diane d'Orleans, he had one son, Louis Frangois Joseph de Bourbon, and had early become a widower. In 1749 he obtained the title of Grand Prieur of France, but was granted a dispensation from taking the vows so long as his son remained unmarried and he had no descendants. The office of Grand Prieur brought him in 100,000 livres a year (£4000), and gave him the magnificent residence known as the Temple, with its superb rooms. It was said, though the fact was never actually proved, that Maurice de Saxe had met his death in a mysterious duel with the Prince de Conti. I20 by collecting about him a small and select circle of friends, and leading the life of an amiable epicurean. He was highly educated, loved literature, science, and the arts, and those who cultivated them were always sure of finding liberal hospitality at the Temple. Handsome, with a really royal mien, dignified manners, and a majestic and imposing presence, the Prince de Conti was affable, gracious, and at ease with everybody. He was called " the last of the princes." But his great qualities were marred by defective judgment, confusion of ideas, and an ambi- tion which was not justified by superior intelligence. The Prince de Ligne has left this pleasing sketch of him : " He is a composite of twenty or thirty men. He is proud, he is affable, ambitious, and a philo- sopher by turns ; discontented, greedy, indolent, noble, and debauched ; the idol and the model of good company, and only accepting bad company out of deliberately perverse profligacy, but with a great deal of self-respect in it too ; gracious, eloquent, the handsomest and most majestic of men ; Avith a manner and a style of his own ; a good friend, frank, amiable, well informed . . . anxious to play a part, but lacking method of mind ; anxious to be feared, and only succeeding in being loved ... fit for any- thing, and capable of nothing. So true is this, that his mother ^ once said of him : " My son is a very clever fellow. Oh ! yes, very. But he is built like an 1 It was she who made this vigorous speech to her husband : "My sons ai-e princes of the blood without you; yours aj:'e not without me." 121 obelisk, and diminishes towards the top, ending in a point like a spire." Notwithstanding his moderate fortune, he ruined himself in generosity and gallan- tries. His entertainments at the Temple and at risle-Adam have remained famous.^ With him, confessedly as his mistress, lived Mme. de Boufflers, who, though her husband was still living,^ did the honours of the Prince's house. She was certainly one of the most amiable women in society ; her conversation was amusing, cultivated, and lively. Walpole, who knew her well, has left this lifelike portrait of her : — " She is two women, the upper and the lower. I need not tell you that the lower is gallant and still has pretensions. The upper is very sensible, too, and has a measured eloquence that is fresh and pleasing ; but all is spoiled by an unrelaxed atten- 1 Walpole, in a letter to Jolin Cliiite, January (?) 1766, gives an account of his presentation at tlie Prince de Conti's lever which affords a curious picture of the manners of the time and of the household. 2 Her husband did not die till 1764. Everybody supposed that she would now become Princesse de Conti, but it was not so. The Prince and she probably regarded it as quite unnecessary to alter a state of affairs which was universally accepted, and to which the sanction of the Church could add nothing. [''By the license of French manners," writes Miss Mary Beriy, " connections between those who had no legal tie upon their persons or affections were so far from being considered disgraceful that, however they might commence, if they lasted long enough to deserve the name and assume the character of friendship, they were not only suffered, but often respected ; and, in many cases, a marriage between persons so circumstanced would, instead of rendering their mutual sentiments more reputable, have been considered as imprudent and discreditable to both parties." Introduction to the Letters of Mme. du Deffant. Longmans : 1810.] 122 tion to applause. You would think she was always sitting for her picture to her biographer." ^ It was a very human weakness that she should herself regard her equivocal position with much indulgence and that of others with severity. Her strictures on Mme. de Pompadour were merci- less. Mme. du Defiant, though on very intimate terms with Mme. de Boufflers, writes of her with un- sparing sarcasm. She nicknamed her the Idol of the Temple, and laughed without pity at the Com- tesse's undisguised admiration of her own person. " Do not hope," she says, " that the Idol will ever communicate to anyone else the ineffable bliss she derives from her pleasure in herself. It is an attri- bute of her divinity." " Incense, incense, that is all she asks," she again writes of her friend ; and in a fit of ill-humour, or perhaps of jealousy, she dis- respectfully stigmatizes as a clique the whole social circle of the Temple. The word was doubly unjust because many of Mme. du Deffant's most frequent visitors were also constantly to be seen at the Prince de Conti's ; and it; was probably this rivalry which prompted the acrid remarks of the " Sempiternal," as she called herself. With Mme. de Boufflers lived her daughter-in- law, the young Comtesse Amelie de Boufflers, whom 1 To Gray, January 25, 1766. 2 Many persons, even authors, have made a confusion between this Amelie de Boufflers, daughter-in-law of the Comtesse, and the Duchesse de Lauzun, whose name also was Amelie, nee de Boufflers. 123 Mme. du DefFant, always hitting hard, called The Stump, by reason of her figure. However, " she is angelically pretty, but more capricious than anyone can be."^ Her wits were a little slow, and her mother- in-law, who was passionately fond of her, undertook to provide her with brilliant remarks and delightful traits which were everywhere repeated. But she alone had ever heard them ; and it is reported that after her death no more were quoted. Mme. de Boufflers, gifted with a brilliant and subtle mind, attracted the most elegant society to the Prince de Conti's rooms. The irregularity of their connection was accepted as a mere peccadillo, and shocked no one. The Comtesse's greatest friend was the Marechale de Luxembourg ; they were as seldom apart as possible, and spent all the summer together at risle-Adam. Mme du DeiFant, very jealous of this intimacy, writes in a fury, " Mme. de Luxem- bourg has no esteem or veneration for anyone but the Idol." The other intimates of the house were the Princesse de Poix, the Duchesse de Lauzun, and Mme. de Mirepoix, of whom we already know something. Of new figures we may mention the Comtesse de Coigny, who had a passion for anatomy, and never travelled without having a corpse packed into the body of her carriage ; the Comtesse d'Egmont,^ with a lively person and a most amiable mind, the object 1 Fersen, Journal, 1778, August 25. 2 A daughter of the Due de Richelieu. 124 of some great passions ; tlie Princesse d'Henin, a pretty young woman, who " knew but two men that understood how to talk to a woman " ; Lekain, the actor, and M. de Vaudreuil. Of the men, some were noteworthy : the Prince de Beauvau ; the Marquis de Chauvelin ; the Comte de Guines ; the Comte de Chabot, who never spoke aloud and had such a fascinating stammer that the women all doted upon him ; his brother, the Vicomte de Jamac, an accomplished model of courtesy and amenity ; the Prince d'Henin,^ whose liaison with the actress Sophie Amould made him almost famous ; the President Renault; Dortous de Mayran, the mathematician, whose good-humour was proverbial ; M. de Donnezan, the most amusing teller of anecdotes, and the cleverest actor of proverbes or charades ; in short, all the agreeable and witty men of Parisian society. At the Prince de Conti's were also to be met all the most distinguished actors and musicians, Jelyotte, Mozart, Mile. Fel, and many more. The rooms at the Temple were magnificent, and the Prince held splendid receptions. There was supper laid every Monday for five hundred persons ; after supper a concert and other performances, in which the first artists of the capital took part. During the carnival the Prince gave a full-dress masked ball twice a week. When the spring drove away the cold, the Prince ^ Nicknamed, by a play on his name, le nam des princes (the dwarf prince). He was the yotmger brother of the Prince de Chimay and nephew of Mme. de Mii^epoix. 125 and his little Court moved into the country, to his chateau at I'lsle Adam.^ Situated at one end of an island formed by the river Oise, this superb residence, standing in a most picturesque position, had an imposing appearance. The great gates opened into a beautiful park, and the back facade rose straight from the river. Easy stairways led from the edge of the water up to an extensive balcony, where the Prince and his friends assembled to see the return of the hunting parties. There was also a view of the river from the terraces in front of the chateau ; the eye rested with delight on the windings of the stream, and the adjacent meadow-land. A high-arched old bridge, covered with ivy and creeping weeds, crossed the Oise just below the windows of the chateau ; further away were a farm, a mill, ancestral groves, and, yet more remote, the tall crowns of the forest-trees of Cassam closed in the horizon. In this enchanting retreat the Prince de Conti would pass the summer, surrounded by friends and a social circle, as much distinguished for wit as for rank. He gave frequent and delightful fetes, for this was then the custom of the Princes of the blood, especially in the country. It was so at Bagnolet, and at Villers-Cotterets, the houses of the Due d'Orleans ; and at Chantilly, the home of the Condes. All the Princes kept open house at their summer ^ The chateau was built by Adam I., lord of the island. It passed from the Villiers to the Montmorency family ; from them to the Condes, and finally to the Conti branch of the family. This splendid palace was demolished during the revolution. 126 residences. But while they entirely banished display and ostentation, they were lavish to an incredible height of luxury in everything that might give their guests pleasure. The Prince de Conti's visitors enjoyed the most magnificent hospitality, and at the same time abso- lute liberty ; each lady had a carriage and horses at her command, and could dine in her own room and invite her o^vn little party. The Prince did not appear in the drawing-room till evening, about two hours before supper ; then everybody met there, and the conversation was delightful. Every evening, after the meal was ended, the Prince would request Pont de Veyle^ to compose and sing some compli- mentary impromptu on two or three of the ladies of the company, and the old poet was always ready to comply. These verses were so happily turned that they were generally supposed to have been composed beforehand in concert with the master of the house. Every Prince had such a wit and author, who was one of the household, and supplied everything that had to do with his profession as a writer ; charades, plays, verses, and the like. CoUe was in the suite of the Due d'Orleans ; Laujon in that of the Prince de Conde. Pont de Veyle fulfilled these functions at ITsle-Adam, but he was also the Prince's intimate friend. 1 He was very intimate with Mme. du Defiant. Slie said to him one day : " We have been friends for forty years ; I suppose because we have never cared much for one another." '^ Yes, madam," said he ; " you are quite right." 127 Once a week plays were performed. Mme. de Boufflers and Pont de Veyle supplied the pieces, and the guests acted the parts. The Prince had a passion for hunting, and hunted several times a week. The meets and rests, where all the guests at the chateau would assemble, were perfect fetes champetres arranged with elaborate magnificence. Lauzun was no stranger at the Prince de Conti's ; Mme. de Lauzun had spent the greater part of her childhood at the Temple or at ITsle-Adam, since she never left her grandmother, and Mme. de Luxembourg scarcely ever quitted them. Since her marriage she had continued to pay them frequent visits, but her husband had been less elFusive. We have seen that Mme. de Cambis had led him to change his mind, and brought him to the house. He soon became one of the most assiduous visitors there. If we did not know the amazing lightness of manners and morals at that period, we might be sur- prised to find Mme. de Cambis luring Lauzun into a circle where he was certain to meet his wife and her grandmother; we might wonder to see Mme. de Luxembourg looking calmly on at her grandson- in-law's undisguised flirtation. But Mme. de Luxembourg, who forgave much because she had loved much, shared the opinion of her contemporaries in the world, that too much importance should not be attributed to such trifles. It was in the course of a visit to ITsle-Adam that Lauzun heard Mme. de Luxembourg make one 128 of those speeches which it would be a pity to leave to oblivion. We know how much she thought of bon touj and that she believed herself to be its foun- tain-head, and to hold the monopoly. One Sunday morning all the guests in the house were waiting for their host, to go to Mass ; they were in the drawing- room, and Mme de Luxembourg, sitting by a table where the prayer-books had been laid out, was amus- ing herself by looking through the pages. Presently she stopped at two or three particular prayers which struck her as being in " the very worst taste," and which were, in fact, somewhat peculiarly worded. As she was criticizing these prayers with great bitterness, somebody observed to her that if they were repeated with pious purpose, that was all-sufficient, since God would certainly not take accoimt of what we call good or bad taste. " Indeed ! " cried the Marechale, very seriously ; " never believe that." She was interrupted by a burst of laughter, at which she had the good sense not to be vexed ; but she re- mained fully con\4nced that God regards with greater favour the sinners who beseech Him in choice and elegant language. The Due and Duchesse de Lauzun in their different ways were a great success at I'lsle-Adam. " I was never tired of gazing at Mme. de Lauzun," writes Mme. de Genlis. " She had the most interest- ing face and the noblest and gentlest bearing I ever beheld ; she was excessively shy without being stupid, invariably obliging and kind without being insipid; there was in her an original and attrac- 129 K tive mixture of shrewdness and simplicity." Lauzun was not less popular. His wit and his character had more than one point in common with those of the Prince de Conti. His liveliness and high spirits soon made him indispensable ; for hunting, plays, or operas he was the manager of every festivity, and the Prince could not bear to be without him/ 1 The Piince would sometimes even share in Lauznn's mad pranks. One evening, seeing a light in one of Lauznn's windows, he went in and found him entertaining two giantesses from a fair. The Prince was engaged to sup with the Duchesse d' Orleans, but he did not hesitate; he wrote her a line in haste — " I give you up in favour of greater ladies than you " — and sat down with Lauzun and the giantesses. 130 CHAPTER X. 1766—1767. The actors of the eighteenth centniy — Clairval and Mme. de Stainville — Mme. de Mirepoix's ball — Mme. de Stainville is shut np — Prince de Lamballe's marriage — Death of the Danphiness. Lauzun had not ceased to visit Mme. de Stainville, but a calm affection had taken the place of his first passion ; they were now the best of friends. As he had of course ceased to be imprudent, her husband's jealousy had nothing to provoke it, and had by degrees died a natural death. Moreover, M. de Stainville had taken his wife from Paris to spend some considerable time in Lorraine, and there was nothing in his conduct to rouse dormant susceptibilities or sus- picions. The conspicuous part played during the eighteenth century by actors and actresses is well known. They were on the one hand disdainfully designated by the name of histrions, and on the other loaded with extravagant favours ; they were liable to be proclaimed outlaws and cast into For- I'Eveque like base slaves, or received at Court and 131 K 2 the great houses on a footing of scandalous intimacy.'^ The passion for the stage has never at any time been carried to such pitch, and consequently the passion for those who figure on it. Need we mention the success of Jelyotte, who from the day of his first appearance at the opera became the idol of the public ? He was the delight of the Court and of the town ; he lived in the grandest society, and would have nothing to do with any but the highest rank. " The audience were thrilled with joy as soon as he appeared on the stage," Marmontel writes, " and listened to him with the intoxication of delight. The young women were perfectly crazy; they might be seen hanging half out of the boxes, a spectacle themselves in their extravagant excitement, and more than one of the prettiest among them would have done much to show it. ..." He was noted for his discretion, and of the many women who were in love with him, none were betrayed but those who chose to flaunt it. In fact, actors were the fashion among women of the world. If Jelyotte enjoyed the highest favour, many of his fellow-actors had equal good-fortune. They perhaps were less discreet than he, but the list would be a long one of those whose adventures furnished matter for the chronique scandaleuse of the period. The Princesse de Robecq, daughter of the Marechal ' Actors fill such an important place in the history of the eighteenth century that there was no exaggeration in devoting a work to them. See Les Comediens hors la Loij by Gaston Maugras. Some curious details will there be found as to the infatuation of which some were the object. de Luxembourg, made no secret of her passion for Larrivee the singer,^ Clairval, of the Comedie Italienne, is more famous for his successes off the stage than for his triumphs on it. He began life as a barber's boy, but his lady admirers, who could not bear the thought, chose to imagine that he was descended from some old Scotch family. The Comtesse de Stainville, by some ill fate, met Clairval one day, and at once fell passionately in love with him. Lauzun, calling on her soon after, was surprised to find her bathed in tears and in the most deplorable condition. The scene between the two was such as could only be possible in the eighteenth century. The young man besought Mme. de Stainville to confide in him, and yielding at last to his persistency, she confessed with sobs that she was madly in love with Clairval, and he with her. This strange confidence did not disturb Lauzun so far as he was concerned, but it filled him with alarm for the lady. With almost brotherly kindness, he pointed out to her how insane was such an attachment, and how fatal the consequences. At length, by much preaching, Lauzun extorted her promise to dismiss Clairval, and he came away reassured. But Mme. de Stainville did not keep her word. Lauzun, more and more uneasy as to the outcome, and taking his part of moral philosopher very much in earnest, made a last effort. He went to Clairval, 1 Larrivee (1733-1802). His only defect was that he sang through his nose. One day a jester in the pit called out, " That's a nose with a fine voice." 33 showed him the imprudence of his conduct, and the perils in which he was involving the Comtesse. Clairval replied, with a dignity and magnanimity which seem somewhat stagey : " Monsieur, if I alone ran any danger, one look from Mme. de Stainville would be worth as much to me as my life. I am capable of enduring anything for her without a complaint ; but if her happiness and peace of mind are at stake, tell me what to do ; I will obey." Unfortunately, the actor, like his mistress, could not keep his word. Ere long the intrigue was suspected. The Due de Choiseul would not rest till he had discovered the truth, and the lovers' imprudence made his task an easy one. Mme. de Stainville meanwhile lived in apparent ease of mind, and her trust seemed to know no limits. The talk of the town at this moment was a fancy-dress ball which the old Marechale de Mirepoix,' still crazy for pleasure, intended to give at the Hotel de Brancas to the young people of the Court and town. No sooner is this ball announced than every brain is working ; no one discusses anything but the wonders that will figure there ; everyone is devising costumes, and the women vie with each other to eclipse their friends. Twenty-four couples are to perform a ballet which is to be the great feature of the evening. 1 " She will be sixty in April next," wrote Mme. du Defiant ; ''but ber mind grows backwards, and is not above fifteen at this day." The costumes, all of the rarest magnificence, are borrowed from Eastern lands : there will be Sultanas, Chinese, Indians, Dervishes, Rajahs, what not. The dancers are divided into six sets of four couples each. The Due de Chartres and Mme. d'Egmont will lead the first set, and Mme. de Stainville is to be in it ; her costume is that of a German peasant-girl, and her partner is the Prince d'Henin. During the week preceding the ball, rehearsals take place every day at Mme. de Mirepoix's ; the entrances, the steps, the figures, all must be settled down to the smallest details, that nothing may mar the festival of which all Paris has been talking ever since it was announced. Mme. de Stainville never missed a rehearsal, and was conspicuous for her grace and brilliant beauty. On a certain Tuesday, three days before the ball, a gay supper at Mme. de Valentinois' brought together all the performers in the famous figure- dance; every one was in the highest spirits except- ing Mme. de Stainville, who was in the deepest dejection ; her eyes filled constantly with tears, and her friends could not rouse her from her thoughts. The young woman's depression was only too natural. Her husband, having arrived the day before from Metz, where he was in command, had reproved her for her conduct in a violent scene, and had told her that he intended asserting his rights and placing her in a convent. What had immediately led to this action cannot be known. It is certain that he had procured a 135 lettre de cachet from his brother, the Due de Choiseul. Mme. de Stainville went home after the supper at Mme. de Valentinois' full of terrible apprehensions. They were only too well founded. That same night, the night of the 20th-21st January, 1767, at three in the morning, the Comte had his wife placed in a post-chaise, seated himself by her side, and carried her to Nancy, where, armed with the King's written order, he shut her up for the rest of her days in the Convent of the Filles de Sainte-Marie. . A waiting-maid and a footman who were suspected of having been in their mistress's confidence were also shut up, she at Sainte-Pelagie and he at Bicetre. There was even a talk of imprisoning Clairval too, but the Due de Choiseul opposed it, that the public might not be deprived of a favourite actor.^ All M. de Stainville's friends had done their utmost to persuade him against such a scandal ; they be- sought him to have patience, or, if he were bent on carrying out his purpose, at least to choose a better i A saying of Caillaud's, a fellow-actor of Clairval's, is reported in connection with this affair. Clairval, somewhat uneasy, consulted his friend as to his position. " M. de Stainville," he said, " threatens me with a hundred strokes of his cane if I go to his house. Madame promises me two hundred if I stay away. What can I do ? " " Obey the lady," replied Caillaud, " and you gain cent, per cent.' When M de Stainville's second daughter was going to be married, the young girl declared she would never consent unless her mother were present at the ceremony. He was forced to yield, and Mme. de Stainville came out of the convent for a few days. By the intervention of the Duchesse de Choiseul she was then invited to return to her family ; but she had become very devout, and refused to leave the convent. She died soon after in a frame of exalted piety. and more fitting moment ; but he would listen to no one. The scandal was, in fact, tremendous. The young wife, brutally snatched away on the very eve of a ball of which she would have been the queen, was re- garded as a victim, and the world had no mercy on him. But he had at least the decency to place all his wife's fortune in the hands of the guardians of his children. Mme. de Mirepoix's ball took place on the appointed day,^ and it was delightful, charming ; the costumes were an immense success. Among the men the Due de Chartres bore away the palm from all rivals. As to the ladies, the prize for beauty was divided between Mme. de Saint-Megrin and Mme. d'Egmont. All the evening nothing was talked of but M. de Stainville's odious conduct, and the fate of his wretched wife. There was nothing but contempt for the husband and pity for his victim. Lauzun was deeply affected by this disaster. He was still tenderly attached to his friend, and the mis- fortune that had overtaken her was to him too a most painful blow. The Comte's proceedings re- volted all the society he moved in. Not long after, M. de Stainville, if we may believe Chamfort, made a singularly unlucky speech. A certain M. de Vaubecourt, Marechal de camp, also 1 A substitute, of course, was found for Mme. de Stainville, as also for the Princesse d'Henin, who was attacked by a rash the very day of the ball. ^37 petitioned the King for an order enabling him to shut up his wife. He succeeded in obtaining it, and was coming out of the minister's room with an air of triumph, when he was met by Stainville, who, with a number of other men, was waiting in the ante- chamber. Stainville, believing that Vaubecourt had just been promoted to be Lieutenant-General, hurried up to him, and, shaking hands with him warmly, exclaimed, in a loud voice : " Now you are really one of us ; I congratulate you ! You richly deserved it, and I prophesied as much." It seemed indeed as if an epidemic were raging among the husbands of the Court circle, and urging them to a severity which, though within the law, was a shock to all the habits of society. Besides Mme. de Stainville and Mme. de Vaubecourt, Mme. de Miromenil, wife of the chief President at Rouen, and Mme. de Groliey, wife of a Marechal de camp, were about this time shut up for misconduct, at the request of their husbands. Terror reigned at Court. What would happen if this barbarous practice were to gain ground ? The terrible adventures of Mme. de Stainville had for some days formed the staple subject of con- versation in drawing-rooms and at suppers, when happily two events occurred which diverted public attention. The Prince de Lamballe, only son of the Due de Penthievre, had just married, at Turin, the young Princesse de Carignan, January 18, 1767. On the occasion of the entertainments given in Paris in 138 the honour of the young couple, the Prince de Conti ^ insisted that no one should be invited to supper who had not been presented to the Comtesse de la Marche, his daughter-in-law. A great deal of bitter feeling was roused ; the Court was divided into two parties, there were endless disputes over it, and Mme. de Stainville was soon forgotten. Not long after, early in March, the Dauphiness, Marie-Josepha of Saxony, followed her husband to the grave. She was not more amiable during her last illness than she had been during all her life before ; she would abuse the lady of the bed- chamber, Mme. de Lauraguais, for the slightest mistake, and the outraged lady once said in an undertone to a person who was standing near her : " This princess is so kind that she cannot bear that her death should be a misfortune to anyone." The Dauphiness died on March 13, at eight o'clock in the evening. She was but little regretted. 1 The Comtede la Mai-che, afterwards Due de Conti (1734-1813) was the last representative of this branch. He married a princess of Modena ; the union was not particularly happy. 139 CHAPTER XL 1767. Foreigners at Paiis— The English circle — Walpole — Hume — Lady Sarah Bunbmy — Her success — Her liaison with Lauzun — She leaves for England — Lauzun follows her — Their quarrel. A SHORT time before the melancholy end to Mme. de Stainville's adventures, a young Englishwoman had arrived in Paris who was destined to make a great sensation there, and play an important if transient part in the life of the Due de Lauzun. Lady Sarah Bunbury belonged to the first English aristocracy ; ^ she came to France with her husband. Sir Charles Bunbury, and they intended to make a somewhat long stay there. It was already the fashion in England to make frequent journeys on the Continent, and especially to Paris, where life was on such an easy footing, so agreeable and so gay. " Always to be gay is the native gift of a Frenchman," wrote a traveller of the time. Nor was Paris merely the capital of pleasure for 1 Lady Sarah Lennox, daughter of Charles second Duke of Richmond. 140 all Europe ; it was also a school of fine manners ; no education was thought complete without a residence in the midst of a society which was universally renowned for its elegance. French politeness was regarded throughout Europe as the model of grace and nobleness ; nowhere else was that bon ton^ that hel air to be seen which formed the peculiar distinction of French society. When Christiern VII. ^ King of Denmark, went to France, Mme. du DefFant could ^vidte : " We shall kill the little Dane, he cannot possibly endure the life he is now leading ; every day balls, operas-comiques, theatricals at all the royal houses where he visits." Life in this refined and elegant society seemed so delightful to foreign princes that more than one dreamed of abdicating his throne to end his days in Paris. Gustavus III. had but one idea, and that was to come and spend the remainder of his life on the Boulevards ; he had even selected a site for his residence, and had ordered plans to be drawn. Paris exerted such a fascination, and was so irresis- tibly attractive, that people would travel thither from Brussels and from London to be present at a supper, a ball, or an opera. On quitting the fete they stepped into their post-chaises again, and thought themselves amply repaid for their trouble by having 1 Walpole has left this portrait of him : " He is as diminutive as if he came oat of a kernel in the Fairy tales. He is not ill-made, not weakly made, though so small . . and his air is imposing under a microscope." To George Montagu, August 13, 1768. 141 passed a few hours in those world-reno^vned drawing-rooms. French society, which was impenetrable to ordinary Frenchmen, was, on the other hand, very ready to welcome foreigners ; they were received, feted, and sought after ; nay, no very conspicuous merit was requisite to enable them to win good opinions ; the fact of being a foreigner was enough. To them the most aristocratic salons were freely opened. The English especially were in favour, and the fashion ; everything English was thought charm- ing, and the French were gradually acquiring that Anglomania which a few years later invaded and pos- sessed them entirely. But meanwhile, and before borrowing their habits and style of dress, their suicidal mania became epidemic in France, without our having, like the English, le spleen as an excuse.' It was the eccentric originality of the English mind that fascinated the blase society of Paris and won so many successes : " Oh ! the English, the English are very strange," writes Mme. du DefFant. '' We need never imagine that we know them ; they are in no respect like anything we have ever seen ; each individual is an original, and no two are on the same pattern. We are the exact opposite ; among us all of the same class are alike ; if you see one courtier, you have seen all ; one magistrate, all the lawyer class, and so with all the others." ^ 1 The newspapers of the day bitterly bewail the outbreak of suicide, which increased every day, and which the French owed to their neighbours. 3 To Walpole, December 18, 1776. 142 At the Temple, Mme. de Boufflers, who had often been in England, and had been very much liked there, was always eager to welcome visitors from across the Channel. The drawing-rooms of Mme. du DefFant, Mme. de Rochefort,^ Mme. de Forcalquier,^ Mme. de la Valliere, Mme. de Brionne, and others, were not less hospitable. It was in the houses of these great ladies that the foreigners visiting the capital assembled, and were sure of meeting each other. They were certain of finding a reception there as flattering as it was distinguished. Great noblemen, statesmen, literary men, all flocked to Paris, and prodigiously enjoyed their life there. Walpole, Fox, Gibbon, Hume, Crawford, Selwyn, Carlisle, Lord Harcourt, etc., were frequent visitors. Walpole was the spoiled child of Paris society ; he was in universal request, and he frankly owns it. "I have been sent for about like an African prince or a learned canary-bird," ^ which does not, however, hinder him from passing rather severe judgment on the society which welcomes him so handsomely. " Several of the women are agreeable, and some of the men ; but the latter are in general vain and ignorant." * Mme. du Defiant raved about the 1 Marie Julie Therese de Brancas, widow of the Comte de Rochefort. In 1782 she married the Due de Nivemais, to whom she had long been attached, and she died a few days afterwards. 2 Nee Carbonel de Canisy. She first married the Due d'Antin, son of the Comtesse de Toulouse ; her second husband was Louis Bufile de Brancas, Comte de Forcalquier. 3 To Gray, January 25, 1766. 4 To Gray, November 19, 1765. 143 witty Englishman, and they formed a friendship which endured till her death. Walpole was at every supper, every entertainment ; he even complains of being too much in request, of never having a minute to himself, and finding all his English habits upset. ^^-I am become ires French, never dine, but sup, sit up all night, and lie abed all day." ^ This is how the evenings were spent : — '' They begin regularly with a rubber before sup- per," he says ; " they get up in the middle of the game, and after a meal of three courses and a dessert, they finish it and play another rubber. Then they bring out their knotting bags, settle into a narrow circle, and off they go on some question of literature or irreligion till it is time to go to bed, that is to say, till the hour when they ought to be getting up. The women are all very amiable and gracious, the men disagreeable enough. For my part they are as civil to me as possible, and in general I am very well amused, but I could earnestly wish that there were less whist and more cleanliness."^ This matter of cleanliness was one of those which most annoyed Walpole's delicacy ; he mentions it again and again ; at Court and in the town the neglect in such particulars is a constant shock to him. ^'Versailles," he writes, "like everything else, is a mixture of parade and poverty, and in every instance exhibits something most dissonant from our manners. 1 To Sir H. Mann, Febraaiy 9, 1766. 2 To Lady Suffolk, September 20, 1765. [This letter, quoted from Comte de Baillon's French, translation of the Letters of Horace Walpole, I have failed to find in English editions. — Ti'anslator.'] 144 In the colonnades, upon the staircases, nay in the ante-chambers of the royal family, there are people selling all sorts of wares. While we were waiting in the Dauphin's sumptuous bedchamber, till his dressing-room door should be opened, two fellows were sweeping it and dancing about in sabots to rub the floor." ^ Time-honoured spiders' webs hung in the hand- somest rooms of the royal residence, and many a pane of glass was broken and the damage ill-disguised by a paper plaister. David Hume was not less successful in Parisian society than his illustrious fellow countryman, and it is not very easy to see why. His appearance was common, his speech clumsy and hesitating, his French almost as incomprehensible as his English ; but all this did not prevent his being at the height of fashion. Everyone went into fits of laughter at everything he said, without understanding, or even hearing it. All the ladies must have him at their toilet. At the opera his broad, unmeaning face is always to be seen between two pretty ones ; every advance, every attraction is displayed for the benefit of this not very fascinating personage ; but he is the fashion, and that is quite enough. Members of the English aristocracy also came frequently to Paris and stayed a long time; they 1 To Chute, October, 3, 1765. In the same letter he gives an account of the grotesque disorder of the Princesse de Tahnont's '•charitable apartment in the Luxembourg," which was granted her, as being a cousin of the Queen's. 145 L were always made much of, and the dazzling com- plexions of their young women and girls made a great sensation in the drawing-rooms of the French capital. The opera, the theatres, and the fashionable world, were enough to charm the fair islanders, and keep them in France, And then there was the gaming to which they were passionately addicted, and at which they ruined themselves with the best possible grace. ^'The English," writes Mme. du DefFant, '' like Mme, d'Amblimont's mother, are penny wise and pound foolish. They lose all they possess at play, and make a round of several leagues to save five sols." And nowhere but at Paris would they find adversaries worthy of them, or better opportunities for indulging their passion. In 1767, Lord Rochford was ambassador from England to France ; he was " amiable enough " ; " his wife, a martyr to colds and ailments, but with a great deal of conversation and good manners." The ambassador kept house in great style, gave supper parties, and introduced his fellow country- men to the French society which frequented his rooms. Simon, Earl of Harcourt, who succeeded him, was the best creature in the world. '' I am very fond of him," says Mme. du Deffant, " but as one is fond of a dog. He comes to see me, settles into an armchair ; we say civil things to each other, then we speak no more, we sit together, and are quite content with each other." ^ 1 May 8th, 1771. 146 But to return to Lady Sarah Bunbury and her appearance in French society. The young English- woman's reputation for great beauty had preceded her to Paris ; the King of England had been very much in love with her, and would even have shared his throne with her, but was obliged to abandon the idea in the face of insurmountable obstacles. Lady Sarah found her sister, Lady Holland,^ in Paris ; and her brother, Lord George Lennox, with his wife,^ a person of a charming nature and perfect simplicity, but with a slightly forbidding air, which it was flattering to be able to break through. Lady Sarah was thus introduced to all the drawing-rooms of the aristocracy, and was at once an immense success. Tall and well-made, with hair of the finest black and beautifully grown, a bosom of dazzling whiteness, and as fresh as a rose, eyes full of sparkle and ex- pression — such was Lady Sarah in person. Her temper was said to be amiable ; she was kind, sym- pathetic and tender, but greatly inclined to flirtation. For some time nothing was talked of but the young foreigner and her bewildering beauty ; in a few days she was the reigning fashion : at the Temple especially she was enthroned and worshipped, she was the ornament of all the Prince's re- ceptions, and Mme. de Boufflers told all who would listen to her that she could not do without her. "Your Lady Sarah has had a prodigious ^ Lady Georgiana Caroline Lennox had married the firat Lord Holland, father of Charles James Eox. * Lady Louisa Ker, sister of the Marquis of Lothian. 147 L 2 success," ^vrites Mme. du Deffant to Crawford. " All our handsome youth has had its head turned. Without thinking her pretty, all the principalities and the divinities of the Temple have vied with each other in paying her court. I have at no time seen her for long enough to enable me to make out what to think of her ; I find her amiable ; she is gentle, lively and polite. In our nation she would be re- garded as a coquette ; but I do not believe that she is one ; she loves amusement, and may have been flattered by all the eager attentions that have been sho^vn to her, but I suspect she has given herself up to it rather for the sake of appearance than from any real taste for it. I had imagined some hidden motive, and I think she has brains enough to look on our young men as great simpletons." ^ The report of Lady Sarah's success reached Lauzun, who was on guard at Versailles. His term of duty ended, he hastened back to Paris. The first time he saw the fair foreigner was at a music-party at the Prince de Conti's, and the Prince himself undertook to introduce him. " I crave your indulgence, milady,'" said he, " for my friend Lauzun ; he is very mad, very reckless, very amiable, and he will do the honours of Paris better than anybody." Lady Sarah uttered a few commonplace civilities, and there an end. The young men about the Court, however, crowded round Lauzun and wanted to know his opinion of the new beauty. Being obliged to give judgment, the Due pronounced his verdict : '^ She is not amiss," 1 February 13, 1767. 148 said he, " but I see nothing in her to turn men's heads. If she spoke French well, and came from Limoges, no one would think twice of her." This oracular decision was highly applauded. In a few minutes supper was announced. At that time in genteel society, when the company went in to the meal, the ladies went first and the men followed. The master and mistress of the house quietly invited the four women of highest rank to sit by them. The other guests chose their places as best pleased them. Lauzun took advantage of this freedom to find a seat by the handsome Englishwoman. Mme. de Cambis, who was always ready to keep an eye on her volatile adorer, sat down at his other hand. Lauzun made some efforts to please Lady Sarah, and they were weU received ; in a short time, com- pletely bewitched, he paid attention to her alone, and had no eyes but for her ; Mme. de Cambis, forgotten and neglected, showed a good deal of temper, which, however, Lauzun did not even discern. After this first and decisive meeting, Lauzun had but one idea : to see the object of his flame once more. However disagreeable he may have thought it, he made acquaintance with her husband to enable him to call at the house. On the first opportunity he poured out a declara- of his passion ; it was received with perfect coolness. '' I have no wish for a lover," replied Lady Sarah, '' much less a French one, who is a match for ten others by the talk he makes and the trouble he gives ; and you above all men, M. de Lauzun. Do 149 not lose your time with me, and never speak to me of love unless you wish me to order my door to be shut to you." Lauzun, young as he was, had too deep a know- ledge of the feminine heart to be so easily discouraged or to take this threat of exclusion too literally. He listened to the lecture with a saddened look, pro- mised to conform scrupulously to the injunction laid on him, and with an easy mind left to time and chance the task of pleading his cause. But hereupon he received from Mme. de Cambis a very stern letter, threatening him with disgrace ; his only reply was to return her all her letters. It was about this time that Mme. de Stain- ville's disaster occurred. It affected Lauzun with profound melancholy ; he shut himself up for several days, and nothing could rouse him from his regret. When at length he made up his mind to go out again, his first visit was to Lady Sarah. She questioned him as to his sorrows with much interest, and he avowed quite frankly the causes of his despair. '^I am," said he, *^as unhappy as a man can be. I have lost a very dear friend in a most dreadful way, and I can never be anything to the woman I adore." Lady Sarah seemed much touched, and might perhaps have betrayed deeper feeling, when a visitor was announced. In the evening the young people met again at Mme. du DeiFant's ; the hours were spent in gallant skirmishing, then, on taking leave. Lady Sarah slipped a little note into Lauzun's hand containing only 150 three words : "I love you." Lauzun, unluckily, good Frenchman as he was, did not know a word of English ; but the language of love is instinctively learnt. The next day, as early as a visit was permissible, Lauzun flew to call on his new divinity; she received him warmly, and addressed him as follows : " I love you, and seeing that you are very unhappy, I could not resist the desire to console you by making you an avowal of my love. A lover is generally hardly an incident in the life of a French woman ; to an English woman it is the greatest event ; from that instant everything is changed to her, and the abandonment of her life and her peace of mind is usually the end of a sentiment which in France is regarded differently. The crime of deceiving a husband finds no forgiveness." She gave him all the reasons she had for being faithful to her husband, but in conclusion gave Lauzun leave to love her, while she declared that their attachment must always remain platonic. Lauzun, madly in love, promised all that was re- quired of him, and declared himself not the less the happiest of men. They both, of course, promised pru- dence without limit and equal circumspection, but their feelings soon betrayed them. Mme. du DeiFant wrote : " Your pretty milady did not think much of me, but I do not allow my conceit to judge her ; I found her charming. Her slave Lauzun is still in constant attendance on her." ^ 1 To Crawford, July 13, 1767. Lady Sarah's stay in Paris was, however, drawing to a close ; she was to accompany her husband on his return to England. Before starting, she made Lauzun promise to join her as soon as he could, and she even entreated the Prince de Conti to procure him leave of absence. The Prince consented with a good grace to perform the service required of him ; he actively promoted the interests of his favourite, and in a few days brought him the leave of absence he so ardently desired. Lauzun set out forthwith. This sudden departure, of which the motives were only too obvious, was a great oiFence to Lauzun's family. He had been on very bad terms with Choiseul since the affair of Mme. de Stainville. He went nevertheless to call on his uncle before starting for England ; but Choiseul refused to entrust despatches to him, and even wrote to the French Ambassador in London to beg him to keep an eye on his nephew's behaviour. Mme. du DeiFant, on her part, wrote to Walpole to announce the young Due's advent, and to recom- mend him in these terms, which exactly depict the average warmth of the lady's feelings : ^' I like him very well ; pray pay him some attention, but do not put yourself in the least out of your way for him." So Lauzun started for London ; he travelled by the ordinary route, that is to say he went to Calais and there embarked on one of the wretched little vessels that passengers found at their service. The crossing took twenty-one hours, and was very rough ; 152 at last they reached Dover, where Lauzun procured a post-chaise and proceeded on his journey. He spent some hours on the way — about twenty- five leagues — between Dover and London ; the roads were in good order; there were frequent stoppages at bars where the postilion had to pay toll. At last, after passing through Rochester and West- minster, he arrived in London. As soon as he reached the capital Lauzun was taken in hand by the French Ambassador, M. de Guerchy/ of whom Walpole speaks as " a frank, gallant gentleman universally beloved by us, hated I believe by nobody." M. de Guerchy took possession of Lauzun and insisted on his going through a whole series of pre- sentations and visits. He first conducted him to Coiu-t and presented him at King George IIL's levee. As soon as the monarch was dressed the doors of his room were thrown open, revealing an old bed hung with red velvet, blackened with smoke and shiny with wear ; a balustrade of silver wire-work railed it in. The King spoke to everybody in turn, beginning with the Ministers ; he spoke in a very low voice, so that it might not be heard that he put the same questions to each person. The Queen was very gracious and very amiable, but not handsome. What chiefly struck Lauzun was that the rooms were really very far from sumptuous, and for the 1 Claude Frangois Lords Regnier Comte de Guerchy, Lieutenant- General (1715-1767). He had covered himself with glory in war, and had been made Ambassador to London in 1763. 153 most part more tlian unpretendingly furnislied. The candlesticks were of wood, gilt or plated. What a contrast to the magnificence of Versailles ! Nor was he less astonished at what he saw outside. The town was badly paved and still worse lighted. Each resident was required to light up the front of his own house ; most of them only displayed a wretched lantern ; others, more ostentatious, hung out several, so that the transitions were abrupt from darkness to a blaze of illumination. At night men provided with a torch and a cudgel (watchmen) were posted at the street corners to guard the safety of the citizens ; it was their business to call out the hours, and the quarter whence the wind was blowing. But what, above all else, struck the young French- man with amazement, was the rigorous observance of Sunday rest. On that day no plays to go to ; games, dances, musical instruments all were for- bidden ; the inns, the taverns, the suburban tea- gardens all were closed. Instead of cheerful faces, such as are everywhere to be seen in France on a holiday, here none but morose countenances were to be met. The whole city seemed plunged into dismal dejection. " Lovers yawn as they sit by their mis- tresses, the drunkard yawns over his liquor, the preacher yawns in concert with the congregation, nay, the victim has been seen to yawn on the gallows before taking the final leap, and the crowd about him yawned in chorus." Finally Lauzun was released, and availed himself of his liberty to set out for the country with Sir 154 Charles and Lady Sarah, who were going to make a stay on their fine estate of Barton Hall. It was famous for its superb hothouses, where the rarest flowers and finest fruits were grown ; among other things, peaches which could compare with those of Montreuil. They had hardly settled themselves there when Sir Charles was called away by important business, and obliged to leave home. Was he trusting, in- different, or superior to human pettiness ? At any rate he left his wife and his guest to a tete-a-tete which must at least be compromising. A few days after they were riding together on horseback when suddenly the lady said to Lauzun, " Do you really love me better than anything in the world ? Are you capable of sacrificing everything for me ? " — " Certainly," said Lauzun, looking her in the eyes. " Can you doubt it ? "— " Well, then, will you come with me to Jamaica ? I have there a rich relation who is childless, and who will be only too happy to give us a home. We can there live for love alone." Lauzun was on the point of accepting with enthusiasm, but Lady Sarah stopped him : " No,'* she said, *^it is a serious matter and requires re- flection. Give me your answer in a week. Till then we will not speak of it again." Lauzun was at first enchanted, and the perspective that lay before him of spending his life far away, with the woman he adored, seemed a delicious dream. But then came reflection, and with reflection certain objections suggested themselves to his mind. Was it 155 not a very great undertaking ? Were they quite sure that they should neither of them regret it? What would happen if Lady Sarah should prove in- constant ? And was it not rather his part to care for the young wife's happiness and to protect her against an impulse which she might one day regret ? Had he a right to expose her to so precarious a future ? Some days earlier probably these practical re- flections would not have occurred to his mind, inspired though they were — or at least so he believed — merely by generosity towards Lady Sarah ; but his first ardours had already given way to a calmer feeling, and that the young lady had not had the delicacy to discern. In short, he argued so soundly that at the end of the week, instead of accepting the offer, he ex- pressed the scruples and fears which he felt at so desperate a move. ^'Very well," said Lady Sarah coldly, " you are more prudent and far-seeing than I. But perhaps you are right ; we will say no more about it." And in fact nothing more was said ; but a few days later Lady Sarah took advantage of her husband's return to move to London, and from thence to Goodwood, the place of her brother, the Duke of Richmond. Lauzun, in despair, and seeing himself quite cast ofi*, wrote and entreated ; all he could obtain was a brief interview, when the fair Englishwoman spoke to this effect : " I meant to give you Lady Sarah wholly and for ever ; you had not faith enough in your own constancy, or in mine. You have torn my heart and 156 so defaced your own image ; you have wrecked the feeling that tied me to you. I love you no longer. Expect no more of me but the warm friendship I have promised you for life." And she begged him to leave England at once. Lauzun, overwhelmed by so cruel and unexpected a blow, fell on the floor unconscious. He was rather seriously ill for some days, and as soon as he was fit to travel he returned to France ; but it was long before he got over the impression of the shock which had so terribly upset him. His character was com- pletely altered, he had lost all his good spirits, and the charms for which he had been so much in request in society. For some time he continued to receive letters rather frequently from Lady Sarah ; then they became rarer, and at last ceased entirely. 157 CHAPTER XII. 1767-1768. Lauzun meets " the Angel " at the Opera — Jean du BaiTy — Jeanne Vanbernier — Lauzun spends the winter at Chanteloup — ^Death of the Queen of France — Death of the Prince de Lamballc — Marriage of the Due de Chartres. Lauzun had come back to Paris inconsolable for the loss of Lady Sarah. He was sunk in deep melancholy, and for some time indiiFerent to every pleasure. But he was not a man to waste his life in fruitless and eternal regret, and he ere long began to drown his griefs by flinging himself headlong into a whirl of dissipation and folly. During the greater part of the eighteenth century the opera-balls were very much the fashion and assiduously frequented. They were in no respect like what they are now. The best company was to be seen there, which however did not prevent the worst from figuring there at the same time. Princes of the blood, princesses, lords, ladies, and women of the town elbowed each other without a blush. Under cover of a mask the greatest license of behaviour was assumed, and resulted in wild gaiety, and mystifica- tions which delighted our ancestors beyond measure. 158 One night Lauzun made aquaintance at the opera with Mile. Vaubernier, a young girl of bad reputa- tion, whose really exquisite face had gained her the nickname of " the Angel." This was the young woman's history : There was in Paris at that time an adventurer, a certain Jean du Barry.^ After holding a place in the Ministry for foreign aiFairs he had become an army contractor, and had acquired some interest in the commissariat department for Corsica. Barry was intriguing, false and a braggart, imperturbably audacious, and a successful rogue ; endowed with remarkable gifts, he had a shrewd countenance, a bright wit, a turn for repartee, inexhaustible high spirits, and an amusing Gascon accent. He was of a type peculiar to the French nation, and found nowhere else. One day Jean du Barry met Jeanne Vaubernier ; he was struck by her beauty, and forthwith proposed that she and her mother should come to live mth him " to look after the housekeeping and to do the honours," and under this graceful euphemism the two women took up their abode with him. M. de Sartine's inspectors mention, on the 14th of December, 1764, the apparition at the theatre of " a young person nineteen years old, tall, well made, with a fine appearance and the loveliest face: Mademoiselle Vaubemier,'in a box at the Italian opera with du 1 Bom at Levignac, September 2, 1723. He had married in 1748 Catherine Ursnle Dahnas de Vemongrese. In 1750, by the intervention of the Due de Duras, he obtained a place in the Foreign Office, but gave it up when Choiseul became Minister. 159 Barry, " and they add that " the Sieur du Barry is a connaisseur." Jeanne Vaubernier was indeed charming, and all her contemporaries agree in praising her matchless beauty. " She is tall," writes the Prince de Ligne, exquisitely fair, with an open forehead, fine eyes, pretty lashes, an oval face with little moles on her cheeks that make it uniquely bewitching, an aquiline nose, lips with a ready laugh, a fine skin, and a bust with which most will be wise to shun com- parison." And a perfect arm, hand, and foot. Jeanne Vaubernier had a passion for expenditure and luxury ; she was always at the play, at the bals- masques, in every resort of pleasure, and many men were more or less smitten by her charms. She was, too, quite the fashion, " and one must sup with her at least once," said Senac de Meilhan. Jeanne Vaubernier and Lauzun, as has been said, met one evening at the opera, and set up the begin- ning of a flirtation. The Due was invited to sup at du Barry's ; the house was in good style, and there were some pretty women. Du Barry was suffering at the time from inflamma- tion of the eyes, but this did not interfere with his receptions ; only the host, who combined his duties with the care of his health, presented a most droll appearance. He did the honours and presided at table in a superb dressing-gown, his hat on his head to keep in place two baked apples which a quack had advised him to apply to his eyes. Lauzun thought the house amusing, but his flirta- i6o tion with Mile. Vaubemier went no further, and having failed thus to drown his sorrows, he again fell into a state of melancholy. At last, during the winter of 1768, weary of Paris, he determined to withdraw from society for a time, and to seek in the country, and in rural life, the moral balance which he had so completely lost since his repulse by the English beauty. His aunt, Mme. de Choiseul, spent the winter in her country home ; she was ill suited to the life of a Court and the incessant intrigues that prevailed there. She was never happy but at her beloved Chanteloup, far from the noise of the capital, and surrounded by a few faithful friends. There only did she enjoy the true pleasures which her exquisite nature could fully appreciate. Lauzun was much attached to his aunt ; he com- municated to her his dreams of a retreat, and offered to go with his wife to keep her company. Mme. de Choiseul, no less charmed than surprised at this pro- posed domestic visit, so foreign to her nephew's habits, and auguring the happiest results from it for the future, replied that she should be enchanted to receive them. A few days later the husband and wife arrived at Chanteloup. They found there the usual guests, the Abb^ Barthelemy and Gatti, and some new-comers, among others the Chevalier de Listenay, " a good fellow, gentle, easy, and obliging." Friends often came from Paris, but made only a short stay. Lauzun was soon accustomed to the simple and i6r M peaceful existence they led at Chanteloup, and it suited him very well. This independent and out-of- door life soothed his over- wrought nerves ; and then he could occupy himself with his aunt about the thousand matters which the mistress of such an estate is called upon to settle. There were interminable conferences every day with M. Mondomaine, the stable-master ; M. de Perceval, chief huntsman ; M. Ribol, the bailiiF; Tellier, the lodge-keeper; Chavin, the head gardener ; Claude, the cow-herd ; Robin, the shepherd ; Mme. Grisemine, who tended the turkeys, etc., etc. The Duchesse superintended everything herself, gave orders and instructions ; nothing escaped her energy. Mme. de Choiseul rose at ten ; then she went out riding or wrote, according to the day of the week. If she went out, Lauzun accompanied her. Gatti mean- while drank his coiFee and milk, while the Abbe Barthelemy took interminable baths. All the guests in the chateau assembled for dinner at two o'clock ; the meat was excellent, but they lived chiefly on milk and vegetables to increase " the sweetness of their tempers." After dinner came walks and drives, and in the evenings long talks till supper-time ; then it was that Lauzun displayed all the graces of his mind, and kept the company who listened to him spell- bound for hours. At midnight all retired to their own rooms. For amusements they had games, especially backgammon, to which Mme. de Choiseul was devoted ; music, too, for M. de Choiseul had been 162 amiably inspired to send the band of his company (the 1st of his regiment) to Chanteloup, a party of six, some bassoons and some clarionettes. On coming in every evening the company assembled, and the band gave a delightful little concert ; they were very well-bred men, and of very good ton. Another, and a favourite amusement, was the reading of plays ; the library of the chateau con- tained a great choice, several copies were procured, and each reader took a part. In this the Duchesse and the Chevalier de Listenay excelled : " They might act in any theatre in Paris," writes the Abb^. This worthy Abbd Barthelemy keeps us informed of all the great events that agitate the little circle at Chanteloup. Now a large wolf is taken in a snare, and all the chateau is in a state of excitement ; now the sheep are shorn, and their wool is so fine that it is supposed to be unique ; then the big bull is very \4cious, the little one is very droll, and so on. Now and again a visitor comes to break the monotony of life, and then, to amuse her company, the Duchesse has a review of all the wonders of her estate. First, the dear sheep she is so passionately fond of ; the chief favourites are admitted into the drawing-room, among them a magnificent and matchless ram named Gathedrale ; they slip and slide on the polished floors to the delight of the company. Then comes Mother Roby and her attendant, carry- ing on their wrists some blue and red macaws ; they are the Guards — the French guard and the Swiss guard — of Chanteloup. Last comes a monkey 163 M 2 dressed as a grenadier, a sword by his side, a gun on his shoulder and a little cocked hat. He walks on two legs like a man, and is as spiteful as the devil. Lauzun, who was a great amateur of dogs and their doings, organized coursing and hunting, which all the party would attend. The scene was an imposing one. At the head marched the chief huntsman ; then came his second in command, followed by ^Ye others and six gamekeepers with the dogs. They coursed deer, wolves, wild boars — every one did wonders. Mme. de Choiseul and Lauzun were very eager and daring ; Mme. de Lauzun, more timid, only followed in a carriage. Even Gatti and the Abbe refused to be left at home. The doctor, a poor horseman, would trot along as best he might, his hands clutching the saddle, and his body doubled up by sciatica. The Abb^ rode in front of him, on a horse so small that his feet hung to ground and got in the way of the animal's legs. These hunting parties, to which each contri- buted his quota of fun and high spirits, were an endless amusement to all the company ; there was but one little drawback — they never killed the game. The spring was very stormy ; the rain never ceased, and the harvest, which had promised to be splendid, was almost destroyed. The peasants were in dismay, despair was written in every face. " La Grand' maman (Mme. de Choiseul) gives away all she has," writes the Abb^, " and greedily seizes on the six sols pieces she wins at backgammon. I 164 wish you could see how much she is beloved here ; no one ever perhaps was the object of such adora- tion. She alone is surprised at it." During this long visit Mme. de Choiseul had an opportunity of appreciating all the amiable qualities of Mme. de Lauzun, and this is what she wrote of her when the party was about to break up, and every one was setting out to return to the capital: — " She has been delightful here. The more I see of her the more I love her, and I am very sorry for it, but how can anyone resist the pleasure of loving ? And I should be astonished indeed if she should ever give me cause to repent. Let us love each other while we may ; it is always so much advantage gained over the enemy, for evil is the enemy of the human race, and of all evils hatred alone is worse than indiffer- ence." In spite of Mme. de Choiseul's rather simple- minded hopes, Lauzun was still the one person who did not discover his wife's charms nor those qualities which fascinated everybody else. That first im- favourable impression had remained ineffaceable. About the middle of June everyone was in Paris again. There were vague rumours of a campaign in Corsica, and Lauzun, not yet cured of his heartache, was thinking of applying to be sent on service, to deaden thought and change the current of his ideas. Meanwhile he attended a succession of melancholy ceremonies at Court. Marie Leczinska, whose health had long been shattered, died on the 24th June, regretted by a few faithful friends. The part she 165 had played was so much in the background that her death made but little impression, and left no gap. A month before her the Prince de Lamballe had died at Louveciennes, at the age of twenty. He died of a complaint he had caught at some orgie to which he had been taken by his brother-in-law, the Due de Chartres ; indeed, some very malignant reports con- cerning the Due were being circulated at this moment. For his marriage to MUe. de Penthievre was already announced, and by the Prince de Lamballe's death the enormous fortune of the Penthievres devolved to his sister, making her the richest heiress in France. Lauzun's intimate friend the Due de Chartres was married in the early part of 1769, but Lauzun was unable to be present at the ceremony ; at that time he was fighting in Corsica, as we shall presently see. Grand fetes were given in honour of the marriage, and the Prince de Conti entertained the young couple with great magnificence at his chateau of L'Isle Adam. MUe. de Penthievre was kind, gentle, fair and fresh, but she could not hope to secure the fidelity of so fickle a prince as the Due de Chartres. The first time the bride and bridegroom appeared at one of the opera-balls, some of the women of the town appeared in widows' costume. They had not to wear their mourning long. 1 66 CHAPTER XIII. 1768. Preliminaries to the campaign in Corsica. For some long time the islaud of Corsica had been a subject of discussion. In 1734 the inhabitants had revolted against the tyranny of the Genoese ; at their head was General Paoli, and at first they had some brilliant successes. The Republic of Genoa, unable to reduce her rebellious subjects, allied herself with France, and concluded a treaty by which the Court of Versailles pledged itself to furnish a contingent to support her. The French Government did, in fact, send out several battalions ; but the Comte de Boissieux, who was in command, was completely defeated by Paoli. His successor, M. de Maillebois, was more capable. The insurgents were beaten, Paoli and his young son Pascal ^ were taken prisoners and exiled to Naples, and Corsica again fell under the dominion of the Genoese Republic. In 1755, Pascal Paoli, now a man, and brought up in the hatred of the Genoese, went to Corsica and 1 Bom in 1726. 167 stirred up the struggle once more. His affable manners, his enthusiastic patriotism, and the name he bore, were of immense service to him and attracted partisans. Before long, at his persistent call, the whole island rose in rebellion, and after a long struggle, chequered by successes and reverses, the Genoese were driven to the shore and had to take refuge in the seaports. Again the Republic appealed to the Court of Versailles. During the Seven Years' War the Genoese had advanced large sums of money to France. Instead of paying interest it was agreed that French troops should be sent to occupy the maritime towns of Corsica, which would enable the Genoese to take the field once more. The Comte de Marbeuf therefore disembarked on the island with several battalions, and established his quarters at Corte and Bastia. General Paoli's successes, his skill in the conduct of military operations, the admirable reforms he had introduced among his fellow countrymen, and his really lofty views, had all contributed not only to make him famous in Corsica, but to establish his prestige and great reputation throughout Europe. In the month of January, 1768, the Chevalier de Boufflers, always over hill and dale, went to Corsica to pay a visit to M. de Marbeuf, but even more to admire Paoli. He writes to Mme. de Choiseul : a Marrsaigle, as the great Due de Lauzun and the little Abb6 Barth^lemy call it — is a very fine town, but the neighbourhood is even finer; the earth i68 is hidden by houses and the sea by ships .... From Marseilles I am going to Corsica. I have always had a fancy for revolutions. I should be very glad to see an unhappy people throw off a horrible yoke. I have formed a high idea of Paoli, of his virtues and talents. A man who has done everything without resources, who has resisted masters stronger than himself, who has reduced his countrymen to order though before indomitable, who has employed his authority only to secure the liberty of his nation, seems to me a worthy successor of the Romans of the grandest type." Meanwhile the Genoese, despairing of subduing the rebellious Corsicans, decided on selling the island to France. M. de Choiseul, after the disasters of the Seven Years' War, was only too willing to gain some glory without much trouble, and he eagerly seized the opportunity thus offered. Early in 1768 he secretly signed a treaty Avith the Genoese Republic, by which they surrendered Corsica to him in consideration of payment in money. This was what made Walpole write ironically : " I like the Genoese selling Corsica ! I think we should follow their example and sell France ; we have about as good a title, and very near as much possession. At how much may they value Corsica ? At the rate of islands, it can't go for much. Charles the Second sold Great Britain and Ireland to Louis XIV. for £300,000 a year, and that was reckoned extravagantly dear."^ On May 19, two battalions of the Brittany ^ To Sir Horace Mann, June 14, 1743. 169 regiment disembarked at Ajaccio, and relieved the Genoese garrison. On May 30 the Anhalt regi- ment also landed, and the Comte de Narbonne, Marechal de camp, took the command of the troops. The people, in delight at believing that they had escaped a hated dominion and had no longer a master, escorted him to the town with loud acclama- tions. Their joy was not of long duration. The French flag was hoisted at the castle the same day, and M. de Narbonne published a proclamation pro- hibiting, under the severest penalties, the sale of munitions of war. The people began to be suspicious, and the news soon spread that the French troops had come to deprive the Corsicans of their liberty. At Bastia still more important events were taking place. On June 21, the representatives of the Re- public of Genoa set sail, leaving the administration of afi*airs to M. de Marbeuf. On the 24th the French standard was flying from the tower of the palace, and the French loudly asserted that the King meant to annex Corsica to his dominions. By the Commandant's orders there were public rejoicings. The Town Hall was decorated with festoons and garlands interlaced with gold fringes ; four large tapers of white wax were placed in each window, and everywhere mottoes were hung up, in Latin, to the glory of Louis XV., King of France, of Navarre, and of the Corsicans. The chief magistrate, accompanied by the principal citizens, waited on the Comte de Marbeuf to con- gratulate him They went in a body to the Mission- 170 aires where lie was residing, and he received them, surrounded by all his staff. From thence they re- paired to the cathedral of Santa-Maria, and there a Te Deum was sung, concluding with a Domine salvum fac regem. This official form of taking possession was easy enough ; but now there was Paoli to be reduced with his army, for they did not seem in the least disposed to accommodate themselves to the new state of things. It was to this end that it was decided to send fresh reinforcements to Corsica, and the King appointed his friend, the Marquis de Chauvelin, to the command. This General had served with some distinction during the war of 1741, under the Prince de Conti, but he had not quitted the Court for some years past. The King had the greatest affection for him, but that could not take the place of the military talent he lacked. The first result of M. de Chauvelin' s appointment was to put M. de Marbeuf in a very bad temper, for he had been in Corsica four years already, and had hoped to be nominated to direct the operations. M. de Chauvelin, however, made ready to start. Several young men about the Court solicited the favour of being allowed to accompany him. " The chance of getting a few shots was too precious to be neglected," says Lauzun, and he too hastened to make interest with M. de Chauvelin for permission to follow him to Corsica. Some days after he was named as Aide-de-Camp to the General. The Marquis de Laval, the Comte de Coigny, M. d'Ar- 171 cambal, de Custine and a few more accompanied him. Unfortunately nothing was in readiness, and hostilities had to be postponed. At Toulon there was a legion to be embarked, ten battalions, horses, mules, and oxen, " hospitals," victuals and forage. All the month of July was spent in these preliminaries. Sensitive as he was to the marvellous, and urged, besides, by one of his friends, Lauzun, before going away, wished to consult a soothsayer who lived in the Rue Saint-Andr^ des Arts, in a room on the fifth floor.-^ The sorcerer announced various events to happen to Lauzun, among others a duel which would be easily arranged. He also foretold that he would die on an island after a defeat in battle. Such a prediction, at the moment Lauzun was starting for Corsica, was ominous, to say the least ; but of all the wise man's prophecies, this, the most important, was certainly not realized. Lauzun set out for Toulon at the end of July ; he travelled with one of his friends, the Marquis de Laval-Montmorency, who, like himself, was joining the army, and, again like him, hoped to cover himself with glory. Hardly had they arrived when on some most trivial grounds the young men quarrelled ; they had already drawn their swords when the Marquis acknowledged himself in the wrong and held out his hand to his adversary. Thus was fulfilled the sor- cerer's first prediction. 1 Paris was at tliis time full of '' Sorcerers," and their usual clients were persons of the best society. 172 Lauzun was ordered to remain at Toulon, awaiting the General, who was detained at Versailles by his wife's serious illness. To amuse his leisure he got himself introduced to Mme. Chardon, wife of the Intendant of Toulon, who was in charge of the orders for Corsica.^ Mme. Chardon, who was but seventeen, was extremely engaging : " She was like a doll for slimness of figure," says M. de Mirabeau, " but she had a temperament of fire, and as much intrigue and corruption as most women have after twenty years' practice of coquetry." ^ To Lauzun, however, she appeared as a gift of heaven, and he was forward in paying her attentions which at first were but coldly received. Meanwhile hostilities had begun without waiting for the arrival of the commander-in-chief. Paoli having refused to let a French company pass him on the road from Bastia to Saint-Florent,' the way was 1 Daniel Marc Antoine Chardon, b.l730, lieutenant particulier (of the prison) at the Chatelet, Intendant of Sainte-Lncie in 1763, Master of Requests in 1765, Intendant of Corsica from 1768 to 1771, Attorney-General to the Board of Piizes, and in 1787 a member of the Committee of Administration of the Navy. He published several volumes, among others a Code of Prizes, in 2 vols., 1784. He was a man of merit and great intelligence, wdth an incredible power of work, but very immoral. In 1768, as Master of Requests, he made a report to the Council of a suit brought against M. Thibault de Chauvallon, Intendant of Guyenne. The Parlement summoned M. Chardon to the bar of the house. But the King said that M. Char- don had acted solely by his orders, and he forbade the Parlement to interfere. Notwithstanding this prohibition the Parlement issued a decree inhibiting M. Chardon from the exercise of his functions till he had justified himself. The King, naturally, paid no heed to this, and appointed Chardon to Corsica. 2 I have to offer the warmest thanks to M. de Lomenie for allowing me to use this letter of Mirabeau's. 3 A village rather more than two miles from Bastia. ^73 forced, and the French took possession of the village of Patrimonio, which was given over to pillage. M. de Barbaggio, Paoli's nephew, had escaped with the greatest difficulty ; he lost all his plate, his gold watch, and his purse. The fighting went on for three days, and the Corsicans displayed an energy and steadiness which would have done honour to the most experienced troops. Unfortunately the struggle assumed from the first a very horrible character ; many acts of savage bar- barity were committed, both during and after the combat. An officer of the Royal- Roussillon regiment, M. de Belaspect, having been wounded and taken prisoner, was hung by the heels, and other officers who had been captured were killed by poniard thrusts. One of Lauzun's friends wrote to him : — ^^ Bastia, August 4, 1768. " At last war is declared between the French and the Corsicans ; not only must you risk the perils of the sea to come here, but you must live on gunshots when you are here. For some days we have all been cutting each other's throats in the approved fashion. The rebels, it is said, have lost more than we. These gentlemen have defended their mountains inch by inch. We shall lose a great many men before we reduce such folks as these. This war is too exces- sively cruel ; our soldiers are all like madmen, and have sworn to give no quarter to any one." On receiving this news, Lauzun and M. de Laval, who were wasting their time at Toulon, no longer 174 hesitated, and, in spite of M. de Chauvelin's formal orders, they embarked on board the King's three- masted galley the Singe to cross to Saint-Florent. But an injunction from the commandant of the fleet compelled them to land again. They declared that they could not remain at Toulon while shots were being exchanged in Corsica, that they would be allowed their share in the business, and should dis- obey orders ; and " this announcement was accom- panied by all that could be said by young men bearing the names of Biron and of Montmorency." The following day they got across on a fishing smack. On the way they met a fleet of thirty-two sail loaded with exiles. These were Jesuits, who, being driven from Spain in 1767, had settled in Corsica. But before finding a refuge there they had had to endure long and miserable wanderings. Having been sent on board ship, all on the same day and at the same hour, by command of Carlos III., they had first made sail for Civita Vecchia as towards a natural refuge. Being received with cannon shot by the Holy Father's forces, they were compelled to get out to sea again ; they then tried to land at Leghorn and at Genoa, but were everywhere pitilessly repulsed. Many of them died of fatigue and priva- tions. At last some mercy was extended to the hapless wanderers, so interminably tossed on the waters, and they were allowed to settle in Corsica. But Corsica having become French in consequence of the events just related, they could not be tolerated there, and M. de Marbeuf gave orders that they were ^75 to be forcibly shipped and cast out again on the Genoese coast. Lauzun had no sooner reached Corsica than he had the satisfaction of taking part in the fight at Monza, August 23, where Barbaggio himself was taken prisoner, with some other leaders.^ 1 An officer of the French, army writes of Paoli's nephew : — " I was greatly surprised to meet in General Barbaggio an amiable and very enlightened man ; I was far from having such a notion of a Corsican. I really am quite regretful that he should have been transferred to Toulon, so well was I pleased by his conversation." (Archives of the Minister of War. Campaign in Corsica.) 761 CHAPTER XIV. 1769. Campaign in Corsica. At last M. de Chauvelin reached Bastia on August 26th. His first act was to put Lauzun under arrest for some days, for having disobeyed orders. The General was hailed on his arrival with great rejoicings ; illuminations, fireworks, shouts of joy, nothing was wanting ; and to complete the display, Latin inscriptions, with the General's coat-of-arms, were placed all over the fa9ade of the town hall. Next morning two edicts announced the change of government to the inhabitants. The first informed them that henceforth the King of France counted the island of Corsica as one of his provinces, in conse- quence of the voluntary surrender of that territory by the Republic of Genoa, and that his Majesty would do his utmost to secure the happiness of his new subjects. The second instructed the French troops to pillage any town or fortified place which should refuse to surrender at the first summons. These edicts were forwarded to Paoli on the next day, the 27th. On the 28 th there was a general national meeting 177 N at Oletta; the edicts were publicly torn up and trampled under foot. The Corsicans swore to defend their liberty to the last drop of their blood, and broke up shouting with a thousand voices, " Guerra, guerra I " A proclamation from Paoli to the inhabit- ants protested against the King's edicts, and incited them not to let themselves " be sold in the market like brute beasts," but to resist violence with force. M. de Chauvelin had no great force at his disposal ; his army consisted of only sixteen batta- lions and two legions.-^ Of the sixteen battalions six were at Ajaccio and at Calvi ; the whole of the island which was to be conquered lay between them and the main body of the army, so they could not be counted on. M. de Chauvelin had not in all more than five thousand men under his command, and from this must be deducted the garrisons holding Bastia, Cap Corse, and Saint-Florent. Paoli had under him more than fifteen thousand men, fairly well armed, and upheld by the idea that they were defending their land and liberty. With M. de Chauvelin had come M. Chardon, his wife — more charming than ever — and several young courtiers, eager, like Lauzun, to vary their pleasures by acquiring rapid and easy glory. These younger men, full of ardour, but also of rash- ness, had an evil influence over the General. They persuaded him to believe that the conquest of Corsica 1 The strength of these battalions on a peace footing was not more than four hundred men in each. Each legion consisted of about five hundred men, half of them mounted. 178 was mere child's play, that these peasants, these low people (canaille), armed with fowling-pieces with- out bayonets, and clothed in brown frieze, could not offer any resistance ; and that he must make haste and finish the business and allow them to get back to the opera-balls, crowned with the conqueror's halo. But these peasants were extremely brave ; accustomed as they were to a hard and frugal life, they had no needs ; the milk of their goats and a few chestnuts sufficed them for food ; they wove their own clothes out of the hair or wool of their flocks. They meant to resist most resolutely. M. de Chauvelin allowed himself to be deluded. On September 3, the French army marched out of Bastia ; on the 5th, in a brilliant charge, it repulsed the Corsicans and took possession of the ports they had occupied. But the enemy fought so tenaciously, and retreated in such a threatening attitude, that the General dared not follow up his success, fearing to expose his army to total destruction. Under- standing now the perils of his position, he sent an urgent demand to the Due de Choiseul for reinforce- ments of men, mules, and ammunition. To secure the position of his camp, he covered it by placing, in the village of Borgo, about ten miles from Bastia, the infantry of the Royal Legion and two com- panies of the Languedoc grenadiers under the com- mand of Colonel de Ludre and M. de Montrond. This village was a sort of citadel situated on the top of an excessively steep hill. On the highest point stood a church with a few battlemented houses ; the hamlet 179 N 2 lay below, and to reach it, the road, which was very- narrow, wound zigzag up the hill. This stronghold had one dangerously weak point : there was no well in the village, and water could only be procured by fetching it from the foot of the hill. The Chevalier de Ludre had no sooner entrenched himself in the church and village of Borgo than the place was invested by the Corsicans. There was much laughter in the French army at the expense of these peasants who were attempting to besiege a place without cannon. Some assistance was sent to M. de Ludre in men, ammunition and supplies, and then the invaders contentedly and confidently awaited the issue.-^ 1 M. de Ludre, though a very good officer, did not at first appre- ciate the extreme danger of his situation. All his letters to the com- mander-in-chief show how completely he was under an illusion. " From Borgo, September 11, 1768, 2 in the afternoon. " I believe I may assure you, General, that a thousand Corsicans cannot turn me out of Borgo, arranged as my forces are." " From Borgo, September 19, 1768. " Pray be so good. General, as to trust in me ; I have never varied in my views as to my position here, and I can assure you more positively than ever that all the Corsicans together will fail to dislodge me. The enemy cut us off this morning from a stream, which was the only one passing through the village ; but as I had foreseen this trick on their part, I had reconnoitred, half way down the hill, a spring which I have just had cleared. My men were a little startled, but they were yet more so when they saw that they had more water than enough." " From Borgo, October 5, 1768. '* I promise you that if they attack me I will cure them for ever of similar enterprises." " From Borgo, October 6, 1768. " I think the rebels have a great respect for my entrenchments ; and I should advise them to remain in that mind, for I shall con- vince them if they come to look too closely." " From Boi^o, October 27, 1768, 10 o'clock in the morning. " Two falconels have arrived in the enemy's lines ; this is their i8o But the Corsicans knew full well all the danger of M. de Ludre's position. During the night they seized several houses in the village, and cut off communications with the low country. From that moment the besieged could receive no supplies of food, and as they had absolutely no water, unless they were relieved they could but surrender. A correspondence by signals with the French camp explained their lamentable position. M. de Chauvelin could not leave the forces in Borgo to their fate, and he determined to risk the safety of his whole army to rescue them. While M. de Ludre was preparing to make a desperate sortie with all his garrison, the French army, reduced by sickness to eleven hundred men, was divided to attack the Corsicans on three sides at once. Con- sternation prevailed at Bastia ; every disaster seemed possible, and every kind of danger was appre- hended. Before setting out, Lauzun went to bid adieu to Mme. Chardon, whom he still courted assiduously. He found her softer-hearted than usual, and when he kissed her hand she gave him a white feather, which, it would seem, was to be a charm to protect him ; he piously stuck it in his hat, and it must certainly have brought him good luck, since it was not the cause of his death, for it distinguished him so con- spicuously that he was a mark for every shot. artillery ; they will bring up a good many such before they take Borgo." I owe this curious correspondence to the kindness of M. le Marquis d'Imecourt. i8r The battle of Borgo was disastrous to the French. ^ M. de Ludre vainly strove to cut his way out, he was rejDulsed with terrible loss ; of one company of the Languedoc regiment only a single man was left. Five French columns, under the command of M. de Marbeuf and M. de Narbonne, got up the hill under a sharp fire ; they made their way into the village, and were there shot down by invisible foes firing with unerring certainty. After five hours of repeated at- tempts they were forced to retire, leaving three hun- dred dead in the village, among them several officers. There was nothing for it but to beat a retreat ; and this they did with such precipitancy that M. de Marbeuf was forgotten, and found himself and his men cut off from the rest of the army. It was im- perative to rescue him at whatever risk of seeing a second disaster to crown the first. Throughout the day Lauzun had displayed the most brilliant courage : " M. de Lauzun and M. de Laval," writes the Comte de Coigny to the minister, " have achieved prodigies ; they are great amateurs of shooting, and have been able to satisfy their taste to the full." On learning the danger of M. de Marbeuf s position, Lauzun, who knew of a narrow path by the edge of the sea which would afi'ord them a way of escape, volunteered to M. de Chauvelin to join the General in his peril and serve him as a guide. The offer was accepted. The young officer ran imminent risk of ^ This village had always been fatal to the French. In 1739 M. de Boissienx, lieutenant-general, having sent a force to occupy it, the Corsicans besieged it ; he marched to succour his troops, was beaten, and died of grief at Bastia. 182 being received with shots from the Corsicans hidden among the bushes. When he found himself in this critical situation the soothsayer's prediction recurred to his mind, and he firmly believed that his last hour had come. However, in spite of every danger, he succeeded in making his way to M. de Marbeuf, and thanks to his guidance the General escaped the Cor- sicans in pursuit, and joined the body of the army. M. de Chauvelin complimented Lauzun on his intel- ligence and courage, and promised him, as a recogni- tion of the great service he had just rendered, the Cross of the Order of Saint Louis. The army withdrew slowly and dejectedly into Bastia ; consternation was written on every face. The Comte de Coigny, in command of the Royal infantry, wrote in despair : " From the Camp at Saint-Pancrace. "October 9, 1768. " I am on the verge of being the most unfortunate man on earth, for I am on the point of losing the whole body of my infantry. " The result of this luckless attack on Borgo, which, however, was inevitable, is that we have lost a great number of men without being able to open commu- nications with the Chevalier de Ludre, that he is still holding the place, though reduced to a church and chapel by way of stronghold, that for the present we can do nothing to get him out of it, and that the three hundred men he has with him, and all my infantry, have only themselves to rely on to get them out of the difficulty And so I am on the point of i8.q losing half my men, a half which I could not replace in forty years of hard work. You can imagine my despair ; it cannot be expressed in words ; and, liter- ally, I would rather be dead than live to meet the blow which threatens me, and which I perceive with horror is inevitable. And to this cause for grief add that I have ninety dragoons in hospital. Alas ! Monsieur, the Royal Legion no longer exists, and it is under my command that they have suffered this cruel reverse ; the idea is a painful one. I ought to add that the soldiers yesterday were more than men ; what they triumphed over was really unheard of, and the incredible courage they displayed through- out the ill-starred day was only surpassed by that of their officers." M. de Coigny's desperate prognostication was soon verified. The day after the fight at Borgo, M. de Ludre, having no supplies, no water, no ammunition, worn out by privations and fighting, was obliged to capitu- late. All the infantry of the Royal Legion, a hun- dred and twenty-eight in number, three hundred infantry (one hundred from Rouergue, one hundred from Languedoc, one hundred from Soissons), the company of Languedoc grenadiers, a detachment of the Royal Corps called out to serve the guns, all had to lay down their arms. Four pieces of artillery and the standards of the Royal Legion were also taken as trophies by the conquerors. The effect of this capitulation was tremendous, not in France only, but throughout Europe. No one 184 could understand how a groat country had been beaten by a horde of ill-equipped and badly fed peasantry. On returning to Bastia, still covered with powder and dirt, Lauzun received a message from Mme. Chardon expressing the tender anxiety she felt on his account. He flew to reassure her, and found her agitated and delighted to see the man for whose fate she had trembled. As a result of the fight at Borgo, the Corsicans grew more audacious, and they never ceased harassing the forces shut up in Bastia. Musketry was fired off close to the gates of the city. This was the sort of life that best suited Lauzun — fighting all day, and at a woman's feet all the evening. M. Chardon, however, did not fail presently to show his displeasure at the intimacy between his wife and the young officer. He was jealous and violent, and Mme. Chardon was all the more in love with Lauzun. The army had now settled into winter quarters. M. de Chauvelin had written to Choiseul a long apology and explanation of his conduct, but in vain. The minister blamed him for ha\dng exceeded his orders, and required him to return to Versailles to give an account of his conduct. The General set out in despair, leaving the command for the time in the hands of M. de Marbeuf. The new commander-in-chief, to the surprise of everybody, prepared to spend the winter peaceably at Bastia, and even treated with Paoli for a suspen- sion of hostilities. The truth was that he was under 185 the dominion of a certain Mme. Var^ze, who, though she was no longer young, had acquired great influ- ence over him. But the Corsicans did not consider themselves bound by the ordinary laws of warfare ; in spite of the armistice, they made an attempt to surprise the French army, and prepared for a general attack. M. de Marbeuf, warned of these designs, decided on placing several companies of grenadiers to occupy the village of Montebello, which protected Bastia. He had taken a great liking to Lauzun, and wished to put him in command of this manoeuvre, which would admit of no delay. Lauzun unluckily was absent ; trusting to the armistice, he had gone to reconnoitre Cap Corse. But Mme. Chardon knew where he was lodging ; hearing from M. de Marbeuf what was in the wind, she besought him to appoint no one to the command of the detach- ment until it was ready to start, and she sent her lover notice to return without a minute's delay. He hastened back, took the command of the troops, and seized Montebello before the Corsicans. " I should have spent a very cold night there," he bravely said, '' but that I was kept warm by fre- quent attacks." On the following day M. de Marbeuf came out of Bastia with his little army ; the Corsicans, unable to make a stand, retired into the village of Barbaggio. On the following day the French invested the village ; it was easy to find shelter from the shots of the besieged, and some inquiring persons came from Bastia to look on at the spectacle. Mme. Chardon, i86 very valiant, arrived on horseback and placed herself near the chief in command. However, the number of wounded increased rapidly, and M. Chardon was obliged to go back to Bastia to arrange for another ambulance train. Hardly had he turned his back when M. de Mar- beuf, pointing out to Lauzun a party of the enemy who were firing on the French gunners and doing considerable damage, desired him to charge the foe with a handful of dragoons of Soubise's legion. The Due set off at a gallop, Mme. Chardon following him. He stopped and tried to compel her to return, but she urged her horse forward, and as it was a very rapid steed, she outstripped Lauzun, exclaiming : " Do you think a woman ought never to risk her life but in childbirth ? May she not for once follow a man she loves?" Lauzun had no choice but to charge at her heels, and in the midst of bullets she displayed the greatest intrepidity. '' All the army," says Lauzun, " kept the secret of this enchanting foolhardiness, with a degree of fidelity which one would hardly expect even from two or three persons." The Corsicans were repulsed all along the line. From this moment hostilities broke out again, the Corsicans incessantly attacking and the French standing on the defensive while awaiting reinforce- ments. The war throughout preserved the barbarous character it had assumed from the first. The Corsicans committed a thousand atrocities, torturing their prisoners, and then killing them ; every hour 187 some officer or soldier who had ventured a little way from the camp was assassinated. It was impossible to go two steps into the country without an escort, and even then attacks were frequent. The peasantry held the open ground, and made it dangerous to move about. One of the most famous of these guerilla bands was led by the parish priest of Gagno, who, with his two nieces dressed as men, and a hundred of his parishioners, repulsed detachments of the French army on several occasions. The French troops, on their side, behaved as if they were in a conquered country ; they pillaged the farms that stood alone, stole the peasants' cattle, and wounded or killed those who complained. The reinforcements arrived early in 1769. Twenty more battalions were added to the twenty-two already forming the army, two legions and twelve hundred mules. The chief command was given to the Comte de Vaux, lieutenant-general. He enjoyed a reputation for extreme severity, but he was known to be a man of justice and feeling, under a taciturn and rigid demeanour. He had already seen war in Corsica in 1739, when he was major of the Auvergne regiment, and he had had his right hand crippled by a peasant of Sartena.^ All the officers were under orders to assemble at Saint-Florent to welcome the General on his arrival. His first words were terrible : " Gentlemen, the King 1 As soon as he arrived in 1769, M. de Vanx sent for tliis peasant, who thought his ruin inevitable ; but the General loaded him and his family with benefits. i88 charged me to tell you that he is highly displeased with his army ; several officers holding places have had the baseness to sign capitulations. Henceforth I prohibit the use of pen and paper to any officer employed on detached service. The King dis- approved exceedingly of the armistice ; it is a stain you have stamped on our flag. I hope we may succeed in washing it out." Lauzun was attached to the main army as first adjutant-major. The Oomte de Vaux had brought with him M. de Guibert ; the future author of La Tactique had great influence over the General. While waiting for the spring to allow of fresh military operations, the army remained inactive, and the young officers did not know what to invent to amuse themselves. Their principal occupation was, naturally, to murmur sweet nothings to the young ladies of the country ; for though the stronger sex had proved unmanageable, the weaker sex, on the contrary, showed much goodwill towards these amiable and lively Frenchmen. If we may believe some highly indiscreet letters, there was here neutral ground where the hostile races fraternized very willingly. Lauzun spent his time with Mme. Chardon, taking all his meals at the house, for of late the husband had made great friends with him. Lauzun was severely criticized for this intimacy, for M. Chardon was universally contemned. '' The man is the horror both of the French and of the Corsicans," M. de Pujol writes to M. de Chauvelin. " He is a thorough scoundrel." He was accused of cheating 189 at cards, and his conduct in all respects was con- sidered as bad as possible. He led Lauzun into a thousand wild pranks. One night in January, he, Mme, Chardon, Lauzun and some other young ofl&cers, went about the streets of Bastia wearing masks, Chardon himself dressed as a cook. They made so much noise, and disturbed the public peace to such a degree, that the watch was called out. They would have passed the night in prison if they had not revealed their names. Chardon scandalized the army in every way. "Your commissariat officer is still at his old tricks," writes M. de Pujol. " Now he has been made a Free- mason ; yesterday for the second time he and his secretary were at a lodge meeting ; I wanted one of them for some business, I had to wait. He is just now gambling perpetually at rather high stakes, riding on horseback and then holding a Freemasons' lodge ; these are interesting occupations for the first president and commissary general of Corsica, especially as a beginner." Notwithstanding his flirtations with Mme. Chardon — in which indeed he was not singular — this idle and empty life weighed on Lauzun. His uncle invited him to return and spend the remainder of the winter at Paris ; but he refused from the most honourable motives : " If I leave," he wrote, " I shall not be allowed to return ; and as the campaign just ended has not been a successful one, I should be in despair if I could not take my revenge." Instead of going to Paris, he asked for a fortnight's 190 leave, which he spent at Leghorn and Florence. He started on February 24, with two Englishmen travelling for their pleasure, and was back at Bastia by March 10. The campaign was about to be re-opened, and he was attached to M. de Pujol, with the rank of ad- jutant major-general. The unfortunate M. de Pujol does not seem to have derived much benefit from the joint action of Lauzun and his colleagues. " The commander-in-chief gives me little to do," he writes on May 27, " and in one way it is fortunate, since I am not in any sense aided ; of five adjutants major, four are here. M. le Due de Lauzun, who is the chief, troubles himself no more about his business than if he were in Paris. M. de Guibert, the second, never stirs out of M. de Vaux's study ; Partisson is not at all well ; M. de Bonnes, M. de Vaux's nephew, can neither read nor write, and the Chevalier de BufFevent is with M. de Narbonne." In spite of the considerable force collected to meet him, Paoli did not lose courage, and he defended the soil of his country inch by inch. But the strug- gle was now too unequal. By the sound tactics of M. de Vaux the island was ere long entirely subju- gated by the French troops. Paoli, at bay on the seashore and driven out of the castle of Corte, his last refuge, had no alternative but to embark at Porto Vecchio and escape to England, where he was offered shelter ; he had always met with strong sympathy there ; indeed, a certain number of English had come out to fight under his flag. 191 With a handful of men, without artillery, strong- holds, stores, or money, he had held the French army in check through two campaigns and won some genuine successes. He was very near destroying it entirely, and the fame of his heroic defence had rung through Europe. Paoli's final defeat was therefore a considerable event, and M. de Vaux wished to send the news immediately to Versailles. For this agreeable mis- sion he selected the man who since the beginning of the war had shown the most fervid courage joined to real military qualities, the man who had at all times been ready for the most dangerous under- takings. When the General's choice fell on Lauzun, it was ratified, it may be said, by the whole army. It was not without a real pang that the young ofiicer bid adieu to the isle of rocks, where, by his own avowal, he had spent the happiest year of his life. Had he not indeed found every object of his desires in combination ? Not only was he leaving a life of constant fighting, which he thought delightful and for which he was made, but he was very sorry to part from Mme. Chardon, whom he really cared for, and who was, as he saw, very unhappy. But there was no time for barren regrets ; he must obey. So Lauzun departed, June 24, the bearer of M. de Vaux's despatches, and, travelling day and night, he reached Versailles, half dead with fatigue, on June 29, 1769. 192 CHAPTER XV. 1768-1769. Events at hoine during tlie Corsican campaign — Mme. du Barry — ■ She is presented at Court. While Lauziin was fighting in Corsica serious events had taken place at Versailles. Before speaking of the young conqueror's return, we will see what had happened at Court since the month of July, 1768. The intimate royal circle, of which the chief members of the Gontaut and Choiseul families formed part, had been broken up by the shock of unexpected incidents ; the delightful society which Mme. de Pompadour had grouped with such skill existed no longer ; the Court had become the theatre of intrigues and rivalry, which were destined to culminate in the overthrow even of Choiseul. It may be remembered that Lauzun had met at an opera-ball a woman of the town nick-named "the Angel," and known to be the mistress of du Barry le Boue. Since that time this girl had experienced a strange change of fortune. Jean du Barry had had an interest in the com- missariat department of the army in Corsica, and 193 made immense profits. In 1768, different arrange- ments were made, and du Barry lost his share in the contract. Driven to despair by this disaster, he hit on the ingenious idea of transferring his securities for these shares to Jeanne Vaubernier, hoping that she might be able to get something out of them. She thereupon made her appearance at Versailles, and several times got audience of M. de Choiseul ; but to her great amazement, the Minister would have nothing to say to her applications, and her charms, which she had thought irresistible, seemed to make no impression on him. Much disgusted by a rebuff to which she was un- accustomed, and which Choiseul' s not undeserved reputation made still more surprising, the young woman was wandering sadly about the gardens of the palace when fate, which owed her some com- pensation, threw her in the way of Louis XV. Nothing was easier than to approach the King in the gardens, at chapel, or at the grand convert ^ his supper in public.-^ Jeanne Vaubemier's " figure and fresh looks, her 1 The grand convert took place every Sunday. The King supped in public, none but princes of the royal family were admitted to sit down with him. Walpole gives a startling account of the ease with which every one had access to the royal family. He writes : " From Chapel we went to the dinner of the elder Mesdames. We were almost stifled in the ante-chamber where their dishes were heating over charcoal, and where we could not stir for the press. When the doors are opened everyone rushes in, princes of the blood, cordons hleus, abbes, housemaids, and the Lord knows who and what. Yet, so used are their Highnesses to this trade, that they eat as comfortably and heartily as you or I could do in our own parlours." To Montagu, September 17, 1769. 194 radiant expression and air of innocence," attracted his Majesty, and he sent his valet, Le Bel, to follow her. A few days later " the Angel " was the King's mistress, and the old monarch devoted himself to her with a servile passion, which ere long was the scandal of the Court and of France. As soon as it became evident that the reign of a new favourite was beginning, the Court divided into two hostile camps. One party bowed do^vn at once, without more ado, before the rising star ; the other, still faithful to the memory of Mme. de Pompadour, refused to do homage to the royal mistress. Her low origin and depraved life served as a pretext for the repugnance which more than one courtier did not hesitate to manifest. At first, as no woman of any respectability would come into contact with her, Louis XV. had the greatest difficulty in the world in forcing her upon his Court. Mme. de Gramont, and all the coterie who followed her lead, pronounced against the favourite with excessive vehemence. As we have seen, the Duchesse herself had at one moment hoped to acquire an ascendency over the King's mind ; her vexation at seeing herself supplanted may perhaps have been one motive for her enmity. The hypothesis is certainly not improbable. Be that as it may, Mme. de Gramont neglected no means of blackening the favourite's reputation ; covert plots, intrigue and calumny were freely employed. She entreated her brother to show no yielding to the ignominy of this new power, and "she braved the King and his mistress with an 195 o 2 imperious and assertive arrogance which was hardly justified by her own long-compromised virtue."^ The Due de Choiseul submitted mildly to his sister's all-powerful influence, and set himself against Mme. du Barry with no less violence. The Duchesse de Choiseul, even, made common cause with Mme. de Gramont, and did her utmost to manifest the keenest antipathy for Mme. du Barry. The feeling was more affected than real, for she was too virtuous not to be indulgent ; but she was jealous of her sister-in-law, and did not choose to be suspected of less severity or less hostility towards her husband's enemies. One day when she was questioning Walpole, and asked him if he did not approve of this campaign against the King's immoral conduct, he replied with great delicacy : ^' I think it is quite becoming in Mme. de Gramont, but you, Madame, have not the same reasons for being so scrupulous." Mme. de Beauvau, a haughty, high-tempered 1 Chamfort relates a very curious anecdote to this point. Some years after the death of Louis XV., Mme. du Barry was living in retirement at the chateau de Luciennes. She took a fancy to see Le Val, the residence of M. de Beauvau, and obtained permission to go there. Mme. de Beauvau thought it would be amusing to do the honours of the place. There was some talk of events that had happened in the old King's time. Mme. du Barry complained of various things which seemed to have shown that she had been the object of hatred. " Oh, not at all," retorted Mme. de Beauvau, " we only grudged you your place." After this frank confession, Mme. du Barry was asked whether Louis XY. had not often spoken very ill of her (Mme. de Beauvau) and Mme. de Gramont. ** Yes, very ill." " What of me, for instance ? " " Of you, Madame ? That you were arrogant and intriguing ; that you led your husband by the nose." M. de Beauvau was present, and the subject was hastily changed. 196 woman, declared that it was a point of honour to take part against the favourite, and she was as ruth- less as Mme. de Gramont. The Princesse, who was an enthusiast and thought only of glory, regarded disgrace at Court, or even exile, as nothing in com- parison with the honour of lighting " for liberty against arbitrary power." Nor, in fact, were the interests of outraged morality the only matter in question ; politics, even more perhaps than principles, played an important part in this indignation. The Due de Choiseul was not excessively austere. Had he not been the faith- ful friend, the trusted confidant, of Mme. de Pompadour ? Was it not to her that he owed his high fortunes ? Had he not introduced to her his wife and his sister, and made them her intimate friends ? Why then should he suddenly set up for such prudery after having shown such an easy conscience ? At the same time — and it is but just to emphasize the fact — there was a wide difference between the du Barry and Mme. de Pompadour, as has already been shown, and this was really ample reason to account for his change of attitude. Whatever the motive that prompted him, Choiseul struggled bravely against the advancement of the new favourite. The outside public attributed his resistance to the noblest motives. They were con- vinced that he had no end in view but the dignity of the Crown, which was in danger from the irremedi- able degradation of the old King ; the minister's conduct was much appreciated. 197 Jeanne Vaubemier's position was, indeed, as yet extremely precarious. Notwithstanding her dominion over Louis XV., she was not recognized at Court. To accompany the King in one of the royal carriages, to sup in the jpetits cabinets, to be admitted to the royal residences, and especially to Versailles, it was necessary to have been presented to the royal family ; this was a law of etiquette which there was no evading. But Jeanne Vaubernier was not married. To appear at Court a title was indispensable. Jean du Barry would no doubt have asked nothing better than to marry a woman whose future prospects promised so splendidly — unfortunately he had a wife already. So, in order that this good luck should not go out of the family, he thought of his brother, Guillaume du Barry. He, enchanted at such a windfall, did not hesitate, and September 1, 1768, at five o'clock in the morning, the marriage was solemnized between Jeanne Vaubernier and the Comte Guillaume du Barry, at the church of Saint-Laurent in Paris. There was nothing now to hinder the presentation, except the inevitable scandal. The King understood this so well that he still hesitated for some months. The fear of this impending presentation haunted every mind. Mme. du DefFant wrote to Walpole ; " I suppose you know all about the divinity in question ; a nymph brought out from the most famous retreats of Cythera and Paphos. No, no, I 198 cannot believe in all that folks foresee ; the greatest obstacles may be surmounted and one may yet be checked by shame ; after braving the greatest dangers one may be stopped by mere decency." The Due de Choiseul violently opposed the King's desires, and those who care to know to what a pitch his indignation was roused have only to read what he wrote in his memoirs.^ To conquer the King's last lingering scruples Jean du Barry had recourse to the good offices of a client of his, the Marechal de Richelieu. The brilliant carpet-knight of a past time was now much changed. Walpole writes of him as " an old piece of tawdry, woni out but endeavouring to brush itself up, and put me in mind of Lord Chesterfield, for they laugh before they know what he has said — and are in the right, for I think they would not laugh afterwards."^ The Marechal did not think twice about helping a friend out of a difficulty, especially where his inter- ference might procure such a brilliant destiny for a person who would no doubt prove herself grateful. He assured the King that the du Barry brothers were known to him, that they were of good family, 1 '' Wo one could at the first moment believe in such an infamous exhibition, because no one till then had gauged the King. The weakness of his spirit, his shy manner, which arises in great part from his stupidity, his handsome countenance, which wears the stamp of decency, his age, and the example he ought to set to children so young as his are, his grandson's marriage — everything concurred to make people refuse to listen to a rumour of so con- temptible a proceeding as this presentation of a disreputable creature, supposed to be married against every rule of decency to the infamous brother of a worthless wretch," who was one of the greatest scoun- drels in Paris. 2 To Conway, December 5, 1765. 199 and that in his part of the country they were as highly respected as the first families in the province. The presentation was decided on, but this was not all. A godmother — a lady to present — must be found, one who had already been presented. Every woman who was asked indignantly refused ; the part was offered to the Marquise d'Aloigny, who pretended she had something the matter with her leg, and went to bed for three months. Then the Baronne de Montmorency was tried ; her scruples, it was thought, might be got over " by money and many favours " ; but she proved so exacting that she was set aside in favour of a Comtesse de Beam, a desperate gambler, who, like Mme. de Montmorency, had lost caste. Thus finally Mme. du Barry triumphed over all opposition ; she was presented, April 22, 1769, by Mme. de Beam to the King, to Mesdames, to the Dauphin, and to the royal Children. Mmes. de Beauvau, de Choiseul and de Gramont were not invited. The ceremonial of presentation was as follows. On the day before, the 'presentee went to Versailles with her sponsor to pay a visit to the honneurs, that is to say, to the ladies in waiting and ladies of the bed- chamber to the Queen and Mesdames. On the day of the presentation all the ladies wore full Court dress, consisting of an enormous paniered or hooped petticoat and a train called a has de robe, which could be detached and taken off on returning home ; this was rather narrow, but of extravagant length. 200 The presentee made a curtsey at the door, a second a little further on, and a third in front of the Queen, taking the hem of her petticoat up to kiss it ; the Queen prevented this, however, by saying a few polite words, and she then made a curtsey which signified dismissal. The lady withdrew back- wards, making three more curtseys, and kicking away her train as best she might. In the evening the newly presented lady joined the Queen's card party. On the following Sunday Mme. du BaiTy attended the King's Mass in the chapel of Versailles, filling the seat formerly occupied by Mme. de Pompadour.^ The King's suite was not numerous, many ladies and gentlemen having sent excuses ; but to make up for this there were several bishops, and at their head the Archbishop of Reims. The Church party were not ill-pleased to see the elevation of the new favourite. Overlooking her discreditable antecedents, they counted on being ^ Walpole, wlio attended one of the royal services, wrote to Geoi^e Montagu, September 17, 1769 : — *' You may imagine the Royal mess did not occupy us long ; thence to the chapel, where a first row in the balconies was kept for us. Madame du Barry arrived over against us below, without rouge, without powder, and indeed sans avoir fait sa toilette : an odd appearance, as she was so conspicuous, close to the altar and amidst both Court and people. She is pretty when you consider her : yet so Httle striking, that I never should have asked who she was. There is nothing bold, assuming, or affected in her manner. Her husband's sister was along with her. In the tribune above, surrounded by prelates, was the amorous and still handsome King. One could not help smiling at the mixture of piety, pomp, and carnality." 201 able to circumvent her and make her useful for the furtherance of their ends. At the time when Mme. du Barry was presented a priest was heard to say : " To-day was presented the new Esther who is to supplant Haman and redeem the people of Israel from oppression." Haman was the Due de Choiseul. The partisans of the Jesuits rejoiced^ and looked forward to a speedy return of the exiles. Mmes. de Beauvau, de Choiseul and de Gramont sent a message to the King, to say that since the change that had taken place at the Court they feared that their presence might be less agreeable to him in his private rooms, and they begged to be excused from the suppers in the petits cabinets. They continued to attend the Court in public, and the King showed his displeasure only by silence. And so the intimate circle in which v/e have seen Louis XV. living for so many years was now dispersed, and all the bonds of friendship and aiFection which had been considered indissoluble were broken up. Louis XV., who was very much attached to his friends, and very constant in his affections, felt real sorrow at this desertion, which he had not expected, though it was so fully justified, for his enamoured blindness had hindered him from foreseeing it. A fresh grief was in store for him, and this in his own family : Madame Louise resolved to become a Carmelite nun. Her father only was informed of her determination ; her sisters knew nothing of it till the doors of the cloister were closed for ever on the new • 202 votary.^ She had been certainly the most worldly of the four sisters ; she loved luxury and pleasure, and had a pronounced taste for flirtation. It is said that when the King, greatly moved, went suddenly into Madame Adelaide's room to tell her that her sister had gone off in the night, her first exclama- tion was, " With whom ? " Louis Xy., deeply affected by this break in his family, and even more by the defection of his old Court circle, tried to rally people round Mme. du Barry, and to give her some footing in the society of the Court. The task was not a pleasant one. The men were easy enough to find ; the Due de Richelieu, the Prince de Soubise, MM. de Chauvelin, d'Aiguillon, de Laval, de Villeroy and many more did not scruple to find excuses for the King's choice, and to pay Court to the new mistress ; but the women were more recalcitrant. There was, of course, Mme. de Beam who had already done good service, and was more than ready to continue to play her part, but she really had " too much the air of an aunt on hire." She had to be eliminated from the royal circle. Happily there was the Marechale de Mirepoix, the fairy Urgele as she was still called, still greedy for amusement, and more than ever needy and in debt. Louis XV. asked her to call on Mme. du Barry. How could she resist a King so kind, so helpful, who year after year paid thirty or forty thousand francs of debts for her? And cavagnole ^ She became Superior of the convent in 1787, and died there. 203 was so amusing, and it was nowhere played well but at the King's table. So Mme. de Mirepoix took her seat once more at the little suppers. This caused a great scandal. Such an example, set by so great a lady, the Prince de Beauvau's own sister, provoked the bitterest criticism. The Marechale was spoken of as part of the furniture of the King's mistress.^ Mme. du Barry, either from genuine liking or out of gratitude, took a violent fancy to her new friend ; she could never be separated from the little Maressale, as she called her with her silly mincing accent. The Choiseul party were furious at Mme. de Mirepoix's behaviour, and she was ostra- cized by all her old friends. Her brother and his wife indeed broke with her altogether.^ Mme. de Mirepoix's example found no followers. However, by degrees a few ladies were gathered round the favourite. After Mme. de Mirepoix came Mme. de Valentinois, very handsome, a very fine figure, but as spiteful as she was impertinent. At a 1 Mme. de Mirepoix consented to ride backwards in Mme. du Barry's carriage. The first fruits of this obliging conduct was a gift from the King of 100,000 livres (£4000). One day the Marechale was at great pains to explain to her niece, Mme. de Bussy, the reasons for this generosity. " The money was promised me a year ago," she said, " but the state of the treasury did not allow of its being paid sooner; but it is not in consideration of my attentions to Mme. du Barry." — " I should think not," retorted the other ; ''it would not be half enough ! " 2 In spite of her quarrel with the Choiseuls, Mme. de Mii'epoix made a very pretty speech about the Due. Mme. du Barry, to gratify her friend, was always talking of her detestation of the Minister. "Can you understand," she said one day, "that one should hate M. de Choiseul without knowing him ? " "I understand it far better," said the Marechale, " than if you did know him." 204 later date, in recognition of her conduct, she was appointed lady in waiting to the Comtesse de Provence. Then came the Comtesse de I'Hopital, M. de Soubise's mistress ; the Marechal could not refuse the King this little service. And so by- degrees, with great difficulty, a few others were found of humbler rank and equally indifferent quality. 205 CHAPTER XVI. 1769. Lauzun arrives at Compiegne — ^A meeting" witli M. du Barry — The Dauphin's marriage. We left Lauzun at tlie moment when he was hurrying to Versailles to carry the news of the final subjection of Corsica to the King. He arrived on June 29, 1769 ; he was worn out by fatigue, covered with dust and sweat, but the despatches of which he was the bearer were too satisfactory to allow of any delay. Unluckily the King was not at Versailles, but at Saint-Hubert, a hunting lodge between the forest of Saint-Leger and that of Rambouillet.-^ Louis XV. had a passion for hunting, and gave up several days a week to it ; to such a point indeed that the courtiers would say quite gravely on the days when he did not hunt : " The King is doing nothing to-day." He had packs of boar-hounds, wolf-hounds and deer-hounds, hawks for flying at crows, magpies, merlins, hares, etc. All this cost him more than 1,200,000 francs a year (£48,000). * Louis XV. had rebuilt the house in 1756 ; it was destroyed during the Revolution. 206 Between 1743 and 1774 lie ran down more than 6400 deer. Lauzun was therefore not surprised to learn that the King was away coursing. Without pausing, he remounted and set out for Saint-Hubert. The King was in council. Lauzun asked for Choiseul and placed the despatches in his hands ; they were received with the greatest joy, for, though they were expected, it was a real relief to the minister to see the end, at last, of a war which for a year past had caused him so much anxiety. The young officer was therefore warmly welcomed. The King sent for him, loaded him with kindness, and commanded him to stay at Saint-Hubert just as he was, in his riding jacket and top-boots. Then, as the reward of the good news he had brought, he invested him with the cross of Saint-Louis. Li obedience to the King's orders, Lauzun went into the drawing-rooms to await the rising of the council. He had been there but a few minutes when Mme. du Barry came in ; she at once recognized him, came up to him very graciously, and said with a laugh, " Should we ever have expected to meet again here ? " The King, coming in soon after, found them engaged in conversation. He asked whether they knew each other, and the Comtesse replied without any embarrassment that M. de Lauzun had long been one of her friends.* 1 A singalar adventure befell M. de Coigny at about this time. He too bad spent a year in Corsica, and knew nothing of the events that happened at Court. He had formerly known "the Angel," 207 The Due de Choiseul was so mucli deliglited at the news brought home by his nephew that he heaped caresses on him, seeming to forget the differences which had formerly disunited them. Lauzun, touched by all this kindness, and owing his uncle no grudge for the past, attached himself to him very sincerely. But the cross of Saint-Louis seemed an insufficient reward for the young officer's brilliant prowess. The King wished to give him the reversion of the command of the Gardes-Fran^aises, for which he had already been named ; unluckily his uncle, the Marechal de Biron, with the usual repugnance of old men, who believe themselves marked for death as soon as a successor is appointed, would not hear it mentioned. Not long after this the whole Court moved to Compiegne, and Lauzun with it. He there received a visit he was far indeed from expecting from Mme. Chardon. Alas ! it was no matter of sentiment that brought her there, as might be supposed, but very distressing money difficulties. Her father, M. de Maupassant, had contracted debts to the amount of more than 100,000 crowns (£20,000), and was threatened with imprisonment and as soon as he arrived he went to inquire for her at the Comte du Barry's house. He was told that she lived in the Kue des Petits Champs, and by chance found her at home ; but on his behaving with some familiarity, Mme. du Barry rang the bell and desired her servant to tell the Due's people that he was going. Coigny, surprised by this treatment, went back to du Barry, to whom he told the story. He thus learnt that she was now the King's favourite en litre, and was forced to write to her to make his apologies. (Secret correspondence, political and literary.) 208 for life if he could not pay. Lauzun, always generous and magnificent, could not resist the tears of a woman he had loved. He advanced the money, fully convinced that he should never see it again ; and on that point his foresight was fully justified. There was, that year, at Compiegne a new attraction which brought some variety into the somewhat monotonous life of the Court. At Verberie, at some little distance from the royal residence, a camp was set up for the education of the Dauphin and his brothers. The troops consisted of forty-two battalions of infantry, a regiment of cavalry and an artillery corps with forty guns : there were in all more than eighty thousand men, under the command of Baron de Wlirmser, Lieutenant-General and Inspector-in-chief of the German infantry. Among the troops assembled at Verberie was the Beauce regiment, commanded by the Chevalier de la Tour du Pin, and one of the officers under him was Nicolas du Barry, the favourite's brother-in-law. Mme. du Barry made herself charming to everyone, and particularly to the corps to which her brother-in- law was attached. On the last day of the manoeuvres the King himself took the command of the forty-two battalions, and then held a review. " It was there," says Dumouriez, who had come back from Corsica with Lauzun, " that I saw the old King of France degrade himself by standing with his hat oiF, in the eyes of his army, by the side of a magnificent phaeton in which his mistress displayed herself." The situation was all the 209 p more scandalous because the Dauphin (afterwards Louis XVL), his two brothers, and Mesdames were all present at the review. In the evening Mme. du Barry gave a grand dinner at the camp, to which she invited most of the officers. But there had meanwhile been an incident which gave rise to some annoyance. After the review, the Beauce regiment, as it marched back to quarters, met Mme. du Barry; it presented arms, and paid her the same honours as to the King. On hearing of this mark of deference, Choiseul, who was always seeking some opportunity of being disagreeable to the favourite, sent word to Wiirmser that no such honours were to be paid when the King was in camp, and he severely reprimanded the Colonel of the regiment, M. de la Tour du Pin. The King, very much displeased at the turmoil made by the Minister, wrote to him sharply: "You had nevertheless promised that I should hear nothing more of you as far as she is concerned." But Choiseul was now more hostile than ever to Mme. du Barry ; far from trying to conciliate her good graces, or to live at least on acceptable terms with her, he constantly attacked her with violence. Although the King was known to be very much in love with the new favourite, since he had just given her the delightful retreat of Louveciennes in order to have her near to him when he stayed at Marly, it was thought that he did not treat her with any marked respect, and people inferred from this 2IO that she would never acquire any credit or influence. This opinion, which betrayed small knowledge of the human heart, and especially of the heart of an old man who was held captive by his senses, was so far prevalent as to lead the Choiseul coterie to believe that they might dare anything. Mme. du Barry did not seek to play a political part ; all she asked was to live in peace and happi- ness as the King's favourite. She was by nature gentle, easy and pacific ; and far from being vin- dictive, she showed the most meritorious patience and long-suiFering. She would have been amply content to lean on Choiseul, whose character would certainly have pleased her, and on various occasions she made advances which showed her desire for con- ciliation, but they were always disdainfully repulsed. In consequence of the affair at the royal review, she made a last eflbrt to approach the Minister. Jean du Barry, who was at Compiegne, came one day to call on Lauzun, and mysteriously begged him to appoint a meeting for next day in the forest. Lauzun, though extremely puzzled by a request of which he could not understand the purpose, never- theless consented, and was on the spot punctually next day. After assuring himself that no one could overhear them, du Barry explained to the Due the object of the interview : " You," said he, " are M. de Choiseul's nephew, and high in his good graces ; my sister has cast her eyes on you to negotiate with him a treaty of peace. Mme. du Barry cannot understand, while 211 p 2 she deeply deplores, the virulence of M. de Choiseul's tone against her ; it is all the more to be regretted because there is nothing to give rise to it, or to ac- count for it. My sister-in-law does the great Minister full justice, and her most earnest wish is to live on good terms with him. She has greater influence than Mme. de Pompadour ever had. M. de Choiseul will be wise not to force her to use it against him." And he ended his speech with this charitable but ominous piece of advice : " If M. de Choiseul is for peace, we will meet him half-way ; but he will do well to remember that a mistress may turn out a Minister, while a Minister cannot oust a mistress." Lauzun faithfully executed the commission with which he was charged, and pressed upon his uncle every argument that could warn him of the im- pending danger ; but Choiseul was blind, and con- vinced that the favourite's reign would be but brief; he would listen to nothing. He was indeed at this moment all the more confident of the future, because he had just concluded the negotiations for the Dauphin's marriage to the Archduchess Marie- Antoinette of Austria ; he believed that this event would permanently establish his influence. The marriage in fact took place early in 1770. The Dauphiness was handed over to her French establishment at Strasbourg, where they met her.^ She broke her journey there at the Episcopal palace, * Her lady in waiting was the Dnchesse de Noailles, her first equerry the Comte de Tesse. Thirty thousand horses were em- ployed for the Dauphiness's journey from Strasbourg to Paris. 212 the residence of Cardinal de Rohan, the bishop ; and here saw for the first time Prince Louis de Rohan, the Cardinal's nephew, who was destined to play such a sinister part in her life. Marie-Ther^se, before parting from her daughter, had made her promise to preserve a feeling of eternal gratitude towards the Due de Choiseul ; and when the Dauphiness arrived at Versailles, the first words she addressed to the minister were these : "I shall never forget that you have been the founder of my happiness." " And of that of all France," replied the gallant Minister. The festivals in honour of the marriage were held from the 13th of May to the 14th of June, and were of unexampled splendour. A Court ball was given in full Court dress (pal pare), one of those balls which only took place on the most solemn occasions, and which etiquette made more ceremonious than amusing. The ladies danced in the traditional Court costume with enormous hoops, and only those who had been presented to the royal family were permitted to appear in it. They wore long waists, the shoulder- pieces leaving the shoulders bare, and cut so low that they could scarcely lift their arms ; pointed, narrow shoes with high heels ; immensely long narrow trains, and a head-dress of prodigious height loaded with jewels. The men wore coats with broad lapels em- broidered on all the seams, a scarf, and their hair untied, with long " love-locks." A masked ball was also given at Court to enable persons who had not been presented to have a share 213 in the rejoicings. During these festivities all the courtiers vied with each other in elegance and splendour. The magnificence of the dresses was carried to a pitch beyond all imagining ; they were so covered with gold and jewels as to be a burthen to the wearer. The King's coat weighed thirty-nine pounds; the Due de Gontaut had two, one weighing forty-five pounds and one forty-seven. Lauzun bore on his shoulders a weight of forty-three pounds, and almost fainted under it. The 16th May, the day of the wedding, everything was carried through with the utmost ceremony. There was a royal banquet {banquet royal), that is to say, a meal in public to which all the royal family sat down with the Princes of the blood ; then a drawing-room {grand appartemeiit) : the King, seated at a card-table in the gallery of the chateau, admitted every one who had been presented, to make a bow. Cards were played, and the ladies who did not play attended sitting on camp-stools. The coucher was an affair of the strictest etiquette. A servant handed the Dauphin's shirt to the Due d' Orleans, who presented it to the King, and he put it over his grandson's head. The Duchesse de Char- tres performed the same office for the Dauphiness in the presence of her ladies. The festivities continued on the following days : a full dress ball, the opera, illuminations and what not. Notwithstanding the poverty of the kingdom and the misery of the people, and in spite of riots already breaking out for dearth of bread, more than 214 twenty millions of francs (£800,000) were recklessly spent in these rejoicings. Their progress was, however, interrupted by a terri- ble catastrophe. On May 31, some grand fireworks were let off in Paris. In consequence of the enor- mous crowd and bad arrangements, a number of hapless creatures were crushed to death. Lauzun, who was present with some friends, scarcely escaped, and his uncle, the Marechal de Biron, would have perished miserably in the throng if he had not been recognized by the men of his regiment ; the guards made a wall of their bodies and at the greatest risk to their own lives succeeded in rescuing him. The Dauphin's marriage made no difference in Mme. du Barry's position. She was present, as a matter of course, at all the receptions and entertain- ments ; one day she went to pay her court to the Dauphiness. "The Princess received her without affectation," wiutes Mercy, " and it went off with dignity in such a way as to annoy nobody." Marie Antoinette was no sooner settled at Ver- sailles than attempts were made to circumvent her, and the various cabals that existed at Court each tried to compromise her and get her as an ally. The clique which was led by the Due de la Vauguyon endea- voured by every means to influence the young princess and obtain mastery over her mind. To begin with, they tried to get rid of the Abb^ de Vermond,^ whom 1 He had been librarian at tbe College des Quatre Nations, wben Choiseul sent him to Vienna to be Marie Antoinette's Frencli tutor. He came back to France with her. 21'; she had known for some years ; then of her lady in waiting, Mme. de Noailles/ whom the princess had jestingly called Mme. Etiquette, on account of her strictness ; but these intrigues failed. La Vauguyon then attempted to force on the Dauphiness a confessor of an intriguing and doubtful character, but Choiseul interfered, and the King's confessor was appointed to her service. Mesdames, on their part, tried to monopolize the princess, and make her the instrument of their interests; Madame Adelaide, always full of intrigues, was more inconsistently capricious than ever. At one time she was so anxious to please Mme. Barry that she even wished to see her on the throne ; ^ at others she was violently aggressive to the mistress. Still, not to offend the King, she kept herself in the background; it was Marie Antoinette whom she thrust forward '4nto the breach," and the simple- minded young princess compromised herself in a thousand ways, never guessing that she was but a plaything in clever hands. And yet Madame Adelaide had not accepted with any pleasure the Dauphiness of whom she so hypo- critically made use. When Mme. Campan waited on her for instructions before starting to meet the Arch- duchess, she replied coldly : " If I had any orders to ^ The Ducliesse de Noailles was the wife of Marechal Philippe de Noailles (1715-1793) , afterwards Due de Mouchy. He resigned all his posts in 1785 and retired to his chateau of Mouchy. 2 In conjunction with her sister Louise, the Carmelite nun, she tried to obtain from the Pope the dissolution of Mme. du Barry's marriage, in order that the King might marry his mistress. 2l6 give, they would not be to bring back an Austrian." Une Autrichienne — a word that was never forgotten, and that the mob were one day to take up as a scourge wherewith to lash the hapless Queen. 217 CHAPTER XVII. 1770. Choiseul's fall. The war which we have seen declared between the favourite and the Due de Choiseul after the visit to Compiegne, had increased in virulence. As commonly happens in such cases, the two hostile parties ere long could brook no temporizing neutrality. Every one must declare for or against one side. Those who loved peace and hated discussion were called upon to pronounce themselves. Those who did not openly side with Choiseul were, by that alone, stamped as partisans of Mme. du Barry ; those who did not side with the favourite were of Choiseul's party. M. de Gontaut, an old courtier, had at first lived on good terms with Mme. du Barry, as he had with other royal mistresses ; then when the quarrel with M. de Choiseul was overt and inevitable, he did his utmost to remain at peace and in goodwill with all the world. But this he was not allowed to do. His family ties, which he had faithfully kept up, were a crime in the favourite's eyes ; he was no longer 218 invited to the petits soupers or tlie country palaces. The Minister's proceedings were avenged on him ; he was even nicknamed M. de Choiseul's hussar, a re- miQiscence of the little hussar who, when Louis XV. was a child, Avas whipped when the King did not know his lesson. M. de Gontaut was much cha- grined by this ostracism, which cut him off from that intimacy with the King in which he had lived happily for so many years, and which he had hoped to enjoy till his dying day. Lauzun, on his part, blamed his uncle's exaggerated views; and he no less deplored the insulting and indiscreet speeches of ^^ his women," for in their hatred of Mme. du Barry they did not even respect the King. However, though he sided with his family, he preserved a moderate and quiet line of conduct ; and though he would not permit Mme. de Lauzun to pay her court to the favourite, he avoided unseemly language. Nor was he the only person to regret Choiseurs demeanour. Mme. du Deffant, who in the depths of her tonneau was a disinterested observer and meant to keep on good terms with everybody, could judge men and events with impartiality. " The du Barry herself is nothing," she writes, " a mere stick which men may use as a prop or as an offensive or defensive weapon. ' Grandpapa ' ^ had it in his own hands to make what he would of her ; I cannot regard his con- duct as kind, or his pride as judicious. I think that 1 The Due de Choiseul. 219 Mme. de Beauvau and Mme. de Choiseul advised him badly." ' It is probable indeed that the Minister, if left to himself, would have ended by making up his quarrel with the favourite ; it was clearly to his interest not to persist too vehemently in his hostility, and to live on good terms with a woman whose influence was daily increasing. But under the feminine influence which ruled him, Choiseul was not sparing of his sarcasm on the enemy, and all the coterie followed his example.^ " They persist in provoking Mme. du Barry," writes Mme. du Deffknt. "Witticisms and epigrams are poured out upon her. The other day in her rooms hydrophobia was the subject of conversation. Some one said that mercury was the surest remedy. ^ I do not know what that is,' she lisped, ' I wish some one would tell me.' Such affectation made everyone laugh. The story was told in the presence of the Marechale de Luxembourg, who exclaimed, ' Bless me ! She is happy to have preserved such mercurial innocence.' " Nor were these attacks confined to drawing-room epigrams and fireside satires. A regular campaign was organized, and of the greatest violence ; songs, parodies of ballads, vaudevilles, farces which were authorized by the chief of the police. Mile. VAnge was named without disguise. Choiseul allowed all 1 March 3, 1770. 2 One day at his table, in the presence of a large party, some one said that the favourite complained bitterly of the way she was spoken of in his house. ''Mme. du Barry is very ill-informed," said lie ; "in my house no one ever speaks of such hussies." 220 these libels to be published ; it was even said that he inspired them, and that he employed the Chevalier de Lille ^ to carry on the war of witticisms and jokes against the favourite. For a long time Mme. du Barry disdained to pick up the glove thus flung to her, and it was only when her patience was exhausted, after trying every means to effect a reconciliation, that she at last took the matter up. Pending a time when events should give her an opportunity of revenging herself on the man who treated her so cruelly, she employed against Choiseul the thousand petty annoyances that lay in her power, and she had the satisfaction of seeing the noble Minister lose the imperturbable serenity which he made his boast. " The lady no longer dissembles her hatred," writes Mme. du DefFant ; " he is every day exposed to some little slight, such as not being invited or sent for to the private supper ; or, when he is, to grimaces over the whist-table if he happens to be her partner; mockery, shrugs, in short, petty school-girl revenge, which is nevertheless enough to alienate a certain class of persons — fools, of course — but it works a little breach in people's estimation of him." ^ Louis XV., always shy and hating new faces, was in despair at this persistent animosity of two persons, 1 M. de Lille was a cavalry officer and very agreable in society. He had a pretty skill in song writing, and was often called upon to exercise his talent. " He has some talent," writes Mme. du Defiant, "but I find him lacking in wit, and heavy, clumsy, famiUar — the tone of a parvenu." » November 2, 1769. 221 each, on diiFerent grounds, now so indispensable to his comfort. He made every effort to re-establish peace and uphold the Minister whom long habit had made necessary to him ; he even went so far as to write him a most urgent letter, entreating him to change his conduct. " You manage my affairs well, he wrote ; " I am satisfied with you, but be on your guard against those about you, and would-be advisers. . . . You know Mme. du Barry, she is pretty, she suits me . . . she does not hate you ; she knows you are clever, and owes you no grudge. . ." But the King's urgency, and even his entreaties, had no effect: Choiseul was inflexible. From that time forth his fall was decided on, and Mme. du Barry only waited for a favourable opportunity to get rid of the insolent Minister who openly defied her power. She appealed to all Choiseul's enemies, and with them plotted a vast conspiracy. She was especially aided in the accomplishment of her designs by a man whose cold-blooded rascality has remained famous. This was the Chancellor Maupeou, who owed his fortunes to Choiseul.-^ His character was base and servile, but under his feigned humility it was easy to perceive that he was eaten up by ambition. When the post of Chancellor was vacant Choiseul's friends eagerly besought him * He had affected a quite disgusting devotion to the Minister : he had been heard to say that nothing should induce him ever to change his lodgings, because from the windows he could see at least the chimneys of the hotel Choiseul. He told everyone who chose to listen that '' in his heart he wore the Due's livery," and never spoke of him but as *' our good Duke." 222 not to give so important an appointment to a man whom they felt to be dangerous, and whose character was in no respect trustworthy.^ But Choiseul, with his habitual carelessness and scorn of danger, only replied : ''1 know that Maupeou is a rascal, but there is no one more fit than he for the post of Chan- cellor ; and if he misbehaves himself I will turn him out. "2 Maupeou's face did not belie him ; he bore on his countenance the plainest stamp of a mean soul, and his appearance was enough to rouse instinctive repul- sion.^ He was indeed gifted with great talents, but few men have been to so great a degree the object of public execration. He was helped in the execution of his schemes by his ame damnee the Abbe Terray, whose baseness was a match for his own.* To ruin Choiseul more effectually in the King's opinion, the Abbe exag- gerated the deficit in the treasury, laid hands on the ^ Maupeou was then premier President of the Paris Farlement, and his administration had provoked much criticism. 2 This pleasing epitaph had been composed for Maupeou's father : Ci git un coquin Que moumt de colore D'avoir fait un coquin Plus coquin que son pere. Here lies a scoundrel Who died of rage At having begotten a scoundrel More scoundrelly than his father. ^ A dark, pale complexion, sharp piercing eyes, and a false, suspicious glance, struck all who had to deal with him with a chill of dismay. He had no prejudices, was a stranger to every kind of feeling, gifted with indomitable persevei^ance, audacious, and un- scrupulous ; he aimed only at power, and to achieve it would not hesitate at anything. * In spite of the humility of his birth, the Abbe, by Maupeou's favour, had become Controller-General. He was sixty years old. 223 sinking-fund, suspended payment on tlie bills of the farmers general, diminished the back pay, the royal bonds, reduced pensions, etc. These measures led to a complete monetary disturbance, and the Controller's name was universally detested. The Abbe replied with irony and insolence to every appeal : " But, Monsieur, it is taking money out of our pockets," said the Archbishop of Narbonne, indignantly. " And where the devil should I take it ? " replied Terray. '' After all I must live ! " cried a man of property ruined by these proceedings. '^ I do not see the necessity," said the Abbe calmly. The whole religious party, too, were adverse to Choiseul ; they were extremely active, for they had never forgiven him the expulsion of the Jesuits. This party, upheld by la Vauguyon, Richelieu, and his grand-nephew, d'Aiguillon,^ proposed an alliance with Mme. du Barry, which she accepted with joy. The favourite placed herself ostensibly at the head of this cabal, and they redoubled their efforts to over- throw the hated Minister. To the eye, all that was perceptible was a struggle between a Minister and a mistress ; but in reality the individuals were of no moment, and a question of far more importance than a wretched seraglio quarrel governed the situation. Choiseul repre- ^ The Due d'Aiguillon was a man of undoubted talent. He was stem, ungrateful, despotic, and tyrannical; but he had wit and penetration, and knew the Court as a man who had been used to it all his life. He had entered the army at the age of seventeen, under the title of Comte d'Agenois, and had displayed much courage in war. 224 sented the philosophers and the parlements, Mme. du Barry bore the flag of the devout party. The point was, therefore, which would prove the stronger, the Jesuits or the philosophers. Mercy, a watchful looker-on at the intrigues of Ver- sailles, wrote to Marie Therese, September 19, 1770 : " Choiseul's chief enemies, the Chancellor and the Due d'Aiguillon, are men tarnished and ruined in the estimation of the public. This the King knows ; he himself does not esteem them, because he knows their dangerous disposition, and distrusts them ; but he makes use of them, partly out of weakness to- wards their protectress, the Comtesse du Barry, and partly because he thinks he may need them to keep the parlements in order, since these are giving him a great deal of trouble." In point of fact, a quarrel between the Due d'Aiguillon and La Chalotais, Attorney- General (Procureur-General) of the parlement of Brittany, had just brought to the acute stage the ferment of dissension between that Court and the Crown. La Chalotais, being accused of conspiring against the Government, was imprisoned, and at once became the idol of the legal profession. Choiseul took his part, and appointed another Governor of Brittany in the place of d'Aiguillon. And this was not all. The parlement of Paris called the case for trial, and delivered judgment, declaring that d'Aiguillon was convicted of acts detrimental to his honour ; all the provincial parlements combined in support of this resistance. In the month of September, the King, 225 Q much irritated, attended the Paris parlement in great state, annulled all tlie proceedings, and carried away with him all the papers concerning the trial. Weary of the opposition he so constantly found in his way, Louis XV. instructed Maupeou to bring matters to a conclusion, and to quash the signs of resistance, which every day were more threatening. The magistracy had really become a power in the State ; its prestige, its authority, its ascendency over the people, and the protection extended to it by the Princes of the blood, had made it a formidable body as opposed to the sovereignty. For some time already the King had been complain- ing of the " Long Robes who wanted to be his guar- dians." One day, in Mme. de Pompadour's rooms, and before the Due de Gontaut, he had exclaimed : '' The Regent was very wrong to allow them the right of remonstrance ; they will end by wrecking the State." — '' Oh, sir," said M. de Gontaut, '^ it is too strong for those little pettifoggers to shake." — " You do not know what they do, and what they think," replied the King. " They are a posse of republicans. However, enough of that ; things as they are will last my time." The parlements were not content with putting obstacles in the way of the exercise of the royal authority ; they repeatedly demanded a convocation of the States general.^ This threat was a perfect ^ '' It is tlie part of the nation," they asserted, " to have recourse with all due respect to the last means afforded them by the law, by petitioning the King to call the States general. . . . Never before, 226 bugbear to Louis XV. ; the mere notion of such a thing put him into a fury. One evening at the King's coucJier, writes Mme. Campan, the conversation turned on the remon- strances of the parlements, and their refusal to register the taxes. "You will see, Sir," said a courtier, "that this will entail the necessity for assembling the States general." The King, that instant losing his habitual gentleness of temper, seized the gentleman by the arm, and said, vehe- mently : " Never repeat those words. I am not sanguinary, but if I had a brother even who was capable of advising me to such a step, I would sacri- fice him within twenty-four hours to the permanence of the monarchy and the peace of the kingdom ! " Maupeou was very skilful in taking advantage of the King's frame of mind to work the irrevocable ruin of Mme. du Barry's foe. Choiseul had always been supposed to be a friend to the parlements, and we have seen that the Paris parlement was wholly devoted to him ; this perilous alliance was turned to account to bring about his fall. Confident of the King's support, Maupeou boldly began his struggle against the parlement. The famous edict of December, 1770, reminds the nation that "the King holds his crown from God alone, that the right of making the laws by which his subjects are to be guided belongs to him only without in- perhaps, had tlie nation a greater interest in obtaining their con- vocation, or the parlements in demanding it." (Parlement de Normandie, February 8, 1771.) 227 Q 2 terference or participation." The parlement then stated its refusal to be a mere court of justice, and on December 10, the members of the Court resolved to suspend all their functions till the King should cancel an edict which " degraded " them ; " their regret, indeed, not leaving their minds free enough to pronounce verdicts bearing on the estate, life, and honour of his Majesty's subjects." Thus war was declared between the parlement and the Crown. The Chancellor convinced the King that Choiseul had incited the magistrates to this rebellion, that it would be impossible to quell it so long as their patron was in power, and that a general rising throughout the kingdom might ensue. Terrified at the perspec- tive thus opened to him, angry at the encouragement given by his Minister to the enemies of his authority, and convinced that he was in treasonable conspiracy with them, Louis XV. no longer hesitated to throw him over. Thus at last the lettre de cachet was ex- tracted from him, which hitherto, in spite of many entreaties, he had never been persuaded to sign. 228 CHAPTER XVIII. The Due de Choiseul in banisliment — He goes to Chanteloup — Lanzun's arrival with Mme. de Gramont — Their life at Chanteloup — Lauzun returns to Paris — The Dauphiness gives a ball. It was on Monday, December 24, 1770, that Choiseul received from the hands of M. de la Vrilliere ^ the order which banished him from Paris ; he was granted twenty-four hours to make his preparations and quit the capital. The Due and his wife accepted their overthrow with unexampled serenity. Choiseul bowed to the royal mandate, and prepared to obey without any show of vexation or regret. He did not even seek an interview with the monarch who had dismissed him. As to Mme. de Choiseul, in the midst of the 1 He bore the names in succession of Phelipeaux, Saint-Florentin, and la Vrilliere. This gave rise to this epitaph : Ci-git malgre son rang, un homme fort commun Ayant porte trois noms et n'en laissant aucun. Here lies a man of rank, who three times changed his name, A man so common, that he left none known to fame. The Due de Choiseul and the Due de Praslin one day had a squabble as to " which was the stupider," the King or M. de la Vrilliere. Praslin maintained that it was M. de la Vrilliere; Choiseul, as a loyal subject, backed the King. Soon after, at council, Louis XV. said something extraordinarily silly. " Now, M. de Praslin," said Choiseul, " what do you think of it ? " 229 tears and despair of her friends, she showed perfect firmness of mind, sweetness and tranquillity. The public only understood one thing, namely, that the Minister was sacrificed to the favourite's hatred ; they concluded that Choiseul was a martyr to his virtuous principles, and rushed with inde- scribable enthusiasm into passionate partisanship for the man whom they regarded as the last bulwark of outraged morality. The news of his disgrace was no sooner known than the capital was in a state of alarm. The streets were filled with people, and consternation was written on every face. It might have been supposed that some catastrophe had fallen on the country. Choiseul received proofs of attachment from every side, and the most flattering marks of veneration. Though he was forbidden to see any one, his many friends, at their head the Due de Chartres, broke through every barrier to embrace him for the last time. For twenty-four hours his residence was literally besieged. Two police officers were posted at the door to secure obedience to the King's orders : " They could not do more with the worst criminal," said M. de Belle val. M. de Choiseul's departure was quite a triumphal progress. An enormous throng lined the streets from his hotel in the Rue de Richelieu as far as the barriere de I'Enfer. All along the streets by which he was to pass the windows were crowded, and even the roofs of the houses were covered with people. When the exiles appeared in their coach they were hailed with enthusiastic acclamations, which con- 230 tinned long after they were outside the gates of the city. The Due, deeply moved by this popular demonstration, all the more touching because he had not expected it, could not restrain a few tears. Public excitement displayed itself in many ways : portraits were brought out and medals struck to commemorate this important event. Verses in praise of the Minister were poured out on all sides, as well as epigrams against his enemies. A pas- quinade was sung in the streets reflecting on the King.^ Snufi-boxes were manufactured with the head of Sully on one side and that of Choiseul on the other. The comparison, however, was a rash one, and Sophie Amould, the famous actress, com- mented wittily on the juxtaposition. "Why," said she on seeing one of these boxes, " they have put Debit and Credit both together." To do Lauzun justice, his conduct to his relations in their downfall was noble and generous, and in every way worthy of his lofty and chivalrous soul. Forgetting his differences with his uncle, and certain rivalries which had come between them, he did not hesitate to follow him in his fortunes, and this determination was not without merit. For, in fact, it was not a matter merely of exile for the disgraced Minister ; every one felt sure that his enemies at Court would not be satisfied with this revenge, but 1 " Le Bien-aime de Talmanach N'est pas le bien-aime de la France." Louis XY. was sumamed the well-belovod, 231 that if he wished to keep his head on his shoulders he must leave his country. The enthusiasm of the public, of course, made Choiseul's position yet more critical. "Praise of the Due is universal," writes Mme. du DefFant, " and this makes me fear that the hatred of scoundrels will be increased by it." Lettres de cachet hung over the heads of all who had offended Mme. du Barry. Choiseul's friends lived in perpetual terror ; the Due de Gontaut himself, in spite of his intimate relations with the King, expected the bolt to fall on him. It needed some courage, therefore, to declare oneself openly on the side of those who were thus threatened by the wrath of the Sovereign. Lauzun took all he had of ready money, and pro- vided himself with bills of exchange, and on Decem- ber 27 he set out for Chanteloup, escorting Mme. de Gramont, whose advice had so greatly contributed to the Minister's fall ; they were both fully per- suaded that they must ere long cover Choiseul's flight and accompany him out of the country. Lauzun was received at Chanteloup with great demonstrations of joy and gratitude. His courage and fidelity were very highly appreciated. Though Mme. de Gramont 's arrival was the cause of the greatest satisfaction to her brother, Mme. de Choiseul betrayed less delight, and could not at first altogether conceal her vexation at finding their retreat disturbed by the presence of this lady whom she detested. Out of affection for her husband, she made the best of it ; but at once to cut the knot of 232 a difficult situation, the ladies signed a treaty of peace, or at least a truce ; it was understood that affection was not and could not be thought of, but they pledged themselves to mutual politeness and consideration. This much was agreed to for the peace and happiness of the lord of the chateau. A few days after Mme. de Gramont and Lauzun, some other faithful friends arrived: the Due's brothers, the Abbe Billardi, the Abbe Barthelemy, and finally Doctor Gatti, whose philosophy was peculiarly applicable to the circumstances of the case ; for did he not maintain that happiness consists in privation, and not in enjoyment, as the world had believed for some five or six thousand years ? The exiles lived in the simplest style. Mme. de Choiseul gives an account in the most delightful terms, of their tranquil existence, of their peace of mind and the happiness it affords her to prove her tender devotion to the husband she adores : " We feed very sufficiently well, we spend peaceful evenings, and all the mornings in dressing ourselves out in pearls and diamonds like princesses of romance. I never had my head so well dressed, nor thought so much of my person as since I came here. I want to grow young again, and if it were possible, pretty. At least, I shall try to make ^ Grandpapa ' believe that I am both, and as there will be few objects for comparison, I shall the more easily beguile him." They rose late, and the morning was given up to dressing and writing letters ; then to domestic 233 arrangements and the management of a new estab- lishment. Dinner was at two o'clock. After dinner they played whist, backgammon, or billiards. It was impossible to get out of doors ; the winter was most severe, and they were literally invested by snow and ice, with a fearful wind. The inclemencies of the season contributed greatly to aggravate the severity of the situation. Supper was at ten ; after supper they played faro, read, chatted, laughed, and never went to bed before two or three in the morning. News from Paris was all to the glory of the exiles. The excitement caused by Choiseul's disgrace, far from diminishing, constantly increased ; all France took their part and pitied them. The King's difficulties were serious in face of the opposition of his personal courtiers; apart from Mme. du Barry's coterie, all were in favour of the fallen Minister. Nothing could shake the imperturbable serenity of the exiles ; they behaved in their downfall with such calm and disdainful dignity, that they might have been supposed to be still at the height of power. Mme. du Deffant, having been so ill-judged as to propose to her friends the advocacy of Mme. de Mirepoix, received this sharp lecture in reply : "Never imagine, I beg of you, dear little lady, that you can ever do us a service through the Marechale under any conceivable pretext, by whatever phrase you call it, or on any earthly consideration. There 234 is no ill that I do not prefer to the opprobrium of owing anything to a person I despise. Remember that it is vain to try to serve your friends excepting in accordance with their own taste, and the mosfc affectionate friend could not forgive a service rendered at the cost of his honour." Lauzun, however, could not prolong his stay with his uncle and aunt ; his official duties called him away ; he had to be on guard at Versailles by January 8, and could not fail to be there. He therefore bid them farewell, promising, however, to return as soon as his term of duty was over ; and his place was filled meanwhile by Mme. de Lauzun, who, no less anxious on her part to show her sympathy with her relations, was making arrangements to leave Paris. M. de Choiseul, not Avishing that she should miss all the balls of the winter season, very graciously desired her on no account to forego the pleasures of her youth to keep company with imhappy exiles. But Mme. de Lauzun paid no heed to the prohibition. " Zeal for exile is stronger in her than a passion for balls," wrote Mme. de Choiseul, who was delighted, and she held the warmest welcome in store for her young niece. Lauzun reached Paris on January 7. At a few leagues from the capital he was met by a courier, bearing a letter for him from M. de Guemenee. The Prince warned his friend that his liberty was in danger, that it had been proposed in Council to imprison him in the Bastille for having dared to go to Chanteloup without permission, that the 235 Mar^chal de Soubise alone had voted against it, that Mme. du Barry was vehemently adverse to him, and that she insisted on severe measures being taken to teach him what it was to cling to people in disgrace and brave the King's authority. Guemenee advised his friend not to re-enter Paris, and sent him horses that he might fly with greater rapidity. Lauzun paid no heed to this warning ; he boldly passed the barrier and arrived without hindrance at his little house in the Rue Saint-Pierre. There he found all Choiseul's friends impatiently awaiting news of him. He was received with acclamations, and besieged with questions as to the health, moral and physical, of the exiles. He answered everything in the most satisfactory manner, and delivered to certain chosen friends letters entrusted to him by his uncle and aunt. From thence he hastened to Mme. du DeiFant, to give her his news and a letter from the Duchesse. " M. de Lauzun has just left me," the old blind lady writes to her friend. " You may imagine my joy at seeing him. Oh ! your charming letter ! I could fancy I saw and heard you." Then, without waste of time, Lauzun set out for Versailles, where the Dauphiness was giving a ball. The King had decided that there should be no theatrical performances at Court this winter, but as the Dauphiness had a passion for dancing, little balls were given in her rooms every Monday. The ladies all appeared in white domino, with a pleat in the back like a morning sacque ; these dominoes hung 236 over small hoops, and had long floating sleeves and trains. This was the regulation costume for Court balls not in state. Lauzun boldly walked in. His arrival caused a great sensation, for no one was ignorant that his fidelity had incurred the anger of the King and Mme. du Barry. He was never- theless at once surrounded and made much of; everyone was eager to learn some details about the Choiseuls, the life they led and the state of their health. Everybody seemed to approve of his courage, in short his conduct won him a prominent position through(mt the evening. Nor was this all. The Dauphiness, Being informed that he was present, went to him and made the most amiably pressing inquiries after his uncle: "When next you see him," she added, " tell him that I shall never forget what I owe him, and shall always take the sincerest interest in him.'* By declaring herself so publicly as Choiseul's friend Marie Antoinette gave a proof of magna- nimity which won her general approbation, and which contrasted strangely with Mme. Adelaide's fickleness. This Princess, after appearing as the self-elected protectress of Choiseul and Mme. de Gramont, did her utmost to blacken them as soon as they were out of favour, to the point indeed of scandalizing the public. As a result of his audacity Lauzun fell into the most complete disgrace. The King never spoke to him, and he was not invited to supper in the private rooms. 237 As soon as his term of duty was ended Lauzun returned to Chanteloup, and thenceforth he spent there ahnost all the time he could spare from his Court service and military duties. 2.?8 CHAPTER XIX. 1771—1773. The visitors to Chanteloup. On his return to Chanteloup Lauzun found a still larger party than when he had left it ; first his father, the Due de Gontaut, had arrived almost immediately after, then Mme. de Lauzun, M. and Mme. de Choiseul-Labaume, M. de Choiseul- Gouffier, M. de Choiseul d'Aillecourt — relations and friends who had no official tie to the Court or who defied the King's anger. This was a quite new fact in history. Before Choiseul' s fall no minister in disgrace had ever received from his friends, or even from his relations, any marks of attachment and gratitude. The Cardinal de Bernis at Soissons, d'Argenson at les Ormes, de Machault at Amouville, de Maurepas at Bourges, had all lived in complete isolation ; their names were never even pronounced at Court. But times had greatly changed. The King's age and weakminded- ness had encouraged an independence, an insubordi- nation in men's minds which had hitherto been 239 unknown, and which under the following reign developed to a terrific extent. During the years following his downfall, the Due de Choiseul never ceased to receive visits from the most exalted personages. When anybody asked the King's permission to pay his respects to the exiled Minister, he replied : "I neither permit nor forbid it," and this not very enigmatical phrase was eagerly regarded as acquiescence. The fashion once being set, it became the correct thing to pay a visit to the Choiseuls. Prohibition was vain. Half the Court abandoned Versailles. Chant eloup be- came a pilgrimage obligatory on all who claimed to be of the great world. " It was," says Walpole, " a new scene in France ; a disgraced minister still the object of veneration and love ; it was as new to see the King unpopular, or, which in that country is synonymous, unfashionable." Louis XY., isolated in his mistress's boudoir, saw the void around him growing wider every day. In 1771 Versailles and Compiegne were empty ; but there was a crowd at Villers-Cotterets, about the Due d'Orleans, at Chantilly, the Prince de Conde's, and a greater crowd still at Chanteloup. It was an age of triumphant exile.^ It was the highest nobility, which had always been loaded with favours at Court, that now showed most ingratitude and openly defied royalty. As the Prince de Ligne very justly said, " The best society was republican, without suspecting it." 1 Tbe Dukes of Orleans and of Conde were exiled in 1771, at the same time as the parlement. 240 The Due d'Aiguillon urged the King to punish those who went to Chanteloup. " If I were younger," said the King, " I would be angry ; but at my age I want nothing but peace." The fashion of going to see the Due de Choiseul lasted a long time. " It was not eonfined to his old friends ; many persons of both sexes, ladies whom he had eourted and ladies who had never liked him, were ready to affront the King rather than not be in the fashion." The eap tains of the royal guard relieved eaeh other on duty, in order to pay their respeets at Chanteloup. M. de Chauvelin, asking the King's leave one day to go to Chanteloup, " He was never one of your friends," said Louis XV. " It is for that very reason, sir," Chauvelin proudly retorted ; and he went. The Prinee de Beauvau was ChoiseuFs intimate friend ; it was to the Minister that he owed his post as Governor of Languedoe. A tender and tried friendship existed between the Prinee and Mme. de Gramont, and he naturally craved permission to visit her relations, but it was several times refused. The Prinee, though at the risk of his place and for- tune, was not daunted, and he repeated the request. Weary of the applications with which he was beset, the King at last yielded, but not without express- ing some iU-humour. Beauvau and the Prineesse at once set out for Chanteloup.^ Their visit, 1 The Prince de Beauvau's behaviour was all the more admirable because his pecuniary affairs were in a most critical state. He owed seven hundred thousand francs in debts on which he paid 241 B long wished for, delighted the Choiseuls, and they were welcomed as their courageous fidelity deserved. The Prince was charming, and everybody appre- ciated his rare gifts. But while he was affable and engaging, Mme. de Beauvau seems to have been less sympathetic. It was not for nothing that her friend Mme. du DefFant had nicknamed her the Dominant, and has left this crisp sketch of her : " Her place in paradise will be among the Dominions. Oh, she is a great Princess ; but her glory, her lustre, are what dazzle and attract me, and notwithstanding all my inclination to love her, and all the wit and fine qualities that I know she has, there are moments when I cannot endure her." The gentle Duchesse de Choiseul would willingly have signed this por- trait. The Princesse, with her trenchant, decided tone, scared her a little. The Beauvaus ofi*ered the spectacle, rare indeed in the eighteenth century, of a couple legally united and loving each other truly. " Never in the world," says Mme. de Genlis, " have a husband and wife behaved with conjugal love so perfect or in better taste." However, they made as little display as possible of their reciprocal affection." ^ the interest, and four hundred and fifty thousand in debts demand- ing cash payment (£46,000) . It was this that made Mme. du Deffant write : " The Prince de Beauvau, led by his wife, has committed no end of folHes ; he has defied the King and ended by asking his charity. I am very much afraid he will not get it. They are both to go to Chanteloup next month. You may fancy the King's face, and what he will get out of him." (January, 1772.) His visit to Chanteloup lost him his appointment, and the King refused to pay his debts. * '' It is quite true that I concealed part of my happiness," wrote 242 M. de Beauvau arrived at Chanteloup doubly triumphant. A gi^andson had just been bom to him ; and to the joy of being with his friends was added the satisfaction of knowing that his family would not die out. This event alone hindered the Princesse de Poix from accompanying her parents, but as soon as she was well enough, she came to join them.^ " A strange creature is this Mme. de Poix," writes Mme. de Choiseul, " as pretty as the day, as fresh as a rose, as strong as a Turk, civil, intelligent, with a strong mind and delicate feeling ; but nature blundered in the making of her. She was meant for a pretty boy, and not for a pretty young woman." But a great event was in preparation, and the announcement of a very unexpected visit was about to crown the cup of the exiles of Chanteloup by flat- tering all their instincts of vanity. The Marechale de Luxembourg sent notice that she was coming. " Nothing has been more absurd than Mme. de Luxembourg's journey," writes Mme. du DefFant. " She was the Choiseuls' enemy, and as it is at this moment du hel air to be in what we too call the opposition, she has tried every kind of manoeuvring to be reconciled to them. She has been extremely well received, because for them she brought a fresh ray of glory, and they are intoxicated by it." ^ Mme. de Beauvau in 1793, " but out of a sort of modesty, and con- sideration for others." 1 Slie was devoted to her stepmother, Mme. de Beauvau. She said a very pretty thing about her and her father. She was advised not to read love-stories. " Then," said she, " forbid me ever to see my parents ! " 2 January 2, 1772. 243 R 2 Though the Marechale's visit was a very flattering mark of consideration, the announcement of her advent at first threw the guests at the chateau into dismay. They trembled at the criticism of this for- midable lady ; and when the coach conveying her came into sight at the end of the long avenue, excitement was at its height. M. and Mme. de Lauzunhad gone a stage on the road to meet her, and brought her back with every token of respect and the most flat- tering attentions. The first evening constraint was general; Mme. de Luxembourg's graciousness and the compliments she poured out on M. de Choiseul could not thaw it. She had with her a portrait of M. de Choiseul on a papier-mache snufi-box^ — her travelling-box she called it, and she displayed it ostentatiously, expressing much admiration. At last the evening came to an end without too many hitches, and the Marechale withdrew to her own rooms. Next day she appeared with another box, a splendid box, a perfect gem : a miniature of Choiseul set with pearls round it. "This," she explained, " was her best snufF-box ; it was carried in a little bag, from which she took it every time she needed a pinch of snufF. M. de Choiseul bowed to the ground, overcome by such politeness. But his gratitude was clumsy ; the poor man was quite abashed.'* The Marechale was not alone ; she had brought with her Mme, Brillant, her beloved cat, from which she was inseparable, and all the company at the chateau ^ One of those on which there were portraits of Choiseul and Stilly. 244 paid their court to Mme. Brillant. But what will Lindor say to that ? — Lindor, the Due's dog, as white as a swan, as gentle as a lamb, as dull as an oyster, who is carried in a muiF, but who is everybody's plaything and adored by all. Happily Lindor under- stands the laws of hospitality ; he subdues his feel- ings, makes Mme. Brillant welcome, and does the honours of the drawing-room as an accomplished host. Perfect harmony reigns throughout. Mme. de Choiseul, however, was panic-stricken. In vain was the Marechale sweet and affable ; her hapless hostess could scarcely get over her alarm ; " In spite of the velvet paw she always puts out to me," she writes, " I cannot help fearing the claw of which I have heard so much, and this fear keeps me in a state of insurmountable constraint which is really unendurable." But happily Mme. de Gramont was at hand. She feared nobody, and she held her own with the Marechale. Mme. de Lauzun, sincerely charmed to meet her grandmother again, welcomed her warmly ; she did her utmost to make things run smoothly and with spirit, and to break the ice ; everybody seconded her, and by degrees she succeeded so well that Mme. de Luxembourg's visit went off very pleasantly — so pleasantly that when the time came for her departure every one was sorry ; ^ they implored her to remain ; she declined, ^ Her character was much softened, and the happy change was attributed to Mme. de Lauzun. " The Marechale has become a perfect lamb, "writes Mme. du Defiant (July 2, 1773) ; "really she is changed so much for the better that yon would not know her. The education we give becomes an education of ourself." 245 but her grand-daughter's entreaties carried the day, and she prolonged her stay. At last she went, promising to come again. Not all the visits were so ceremonious or so agitat- ing. Some were more especially delightful to the lord of the chateau, and among these must first be mentioned one from Mme. de Brionne.^ Brilliantly lovely, full of wit, and with dignified manners, the Comtesse de Brionne had inspired a violent passion in the Due de Choiseul ; he had spent large sums on her. Mme. de Choiseul did not know her, and their exile was a pretext and an opportunity for their first meeting. Though well aware of her husband's admiration for the Comtesse, in conformity with Court usage she received her to perfection, and even made great friends with her. " I like her very much," she writes ; '' she is a very sensible woman, with a great deal more mind and solidity than one would believe, who combines with these a gentle- ness and ease in company which make her amaz- ingly agreeable." Mme. de Brionne in fact fascinated everybody by her wit and grace, and she became Madame de Choiseul's inseparable friend. She brought with her Mile, de Lorraine, her daughter : " She is as amiable," says the Abb^ Barthelemy, ^^as she is pretty, and extraordinary for her forwardness in * Nee Rohan- Rochefort ; she was widow of the Comte de Brionne of the House of Lorraine ; thus she was connected with the Imperial family of Austria. She was mother of the Prince de Lambesc, and of Mile, de Vaudemont. She died at Vienna in 1807. 246 ideas and principles. You can play with her as a child of ten, and talk to her as if she were thirty." After long hesitation Mme. du DeiFant also announces herself ; in spite of age and infirmities, she will brave the fatigue of the journey to see her old friends. The joy at Chanteloup is great, and no trouble is spared to welcome her and make much of her, as is due to so devoted a friend. In the draw- ing-room, and in the room that is to be hers tonneaux are arranged like that she has in Paris. There must be no change in her habits. To her every attention is paid and the daintiest care is given. " I can say with truth," she writes to Voltaire, " that this visit has been the most agreeable time of my life." A new figure on the scene, and not the least attractive, was the Marquise de Fleury : " Of such volubility of ideas and words, such a fervid rush of conversation, that ' Grand'maman ' said to her yester- day, ^ I am afraid of your suddenly taking fire, and of our all being consumed in the flames.' It was of her that Mr. tValpole, the banker, said to ^ Grand- papa,' " She is a very amusing woman, but what do they care for that in her family ? ' " ^ The Bishops, who at first had kept aloof, made up for their hesitancy by an unexpected burst of zeal. There came in succession the Bishop of Orleans, the Bishop of Metz, the Archbishop of Aix, the Bishop of Arras, the Archbishop of Toulouse, and others. Choiseul, out of vanity, encouraged this concourse ^ Abbe Bartbelemy to Mme. dn Deffant, January 28, 1773. 247 of visitors, and his existence in exile was perhaps even more brilliant than in the high day of his favour. Seeing this singular eagerness, it might have been supposed that he was at the summit of power, and the dispenser of honour and promotion. Mme. du DefFant very aptly compared Chanteloup to the Valley of Jehoshaphat. All this company kept the chateau in a turmoil ; the bustle, the clatter were beyond conception. The poor Abb^ Barthelemy did not know which way to turn for peace : " Dear Heaven ! what a crowd, what shouting, what a racket, what piercing laughter, what a bursting of doors as if they were being broken open, what a number of barking dogs, what noisy chatter, what practical jokes, what a hubbub of voices, of arms, of flying feet, what explosions of laughter in the billiard-room, the drawing-room, the harpsichord room ! " The number of visitors was so great that Mme. de Choiseul at last forgot those she had seen. The scene is an amusing one. Mme. d'lnvault, who is staying in the house, is sitting in the drawing- room, chatting with the Duchesse ; some more guests drop in and a game of cavagnole is started ; in short, Mme. de Choiseul, completely forgetting Mme. dTnvault, presently discovers her sitting with a group in a corner. It strikes her that the lady has come on a visit, and that she has not welcomed her, that this is a breach of duty as mistress of the house, so she hopes to repair it by exclaiming, " Dear me, Madame d'lnvault ! How did you come ? I did 248 not hear you announced. You must have dropped into the room from the clouds. Are you not very much tired with your journey? " Mme. d'ln vault's astonishment may be imagined, and the fits of laughter of the bystanders, and Mme. de Choiseul's confusion. The coming and going are incessant. Visitors come and go, come and go again, there is a perpetual bustle of arrivals and departures ; the Paris road is crowded with vehicles. " I feel,'' writes the iVbbe Barthelemy, ^' as if I were at the mouth of a harbour where I constantly see a stream of vessels of all nations entering or going out ; " and he adds very shrewdly : " If I were master here, the rush should not be so great ; in the first place people would not be so anxious to come ; but besides that, the number of the elect ought always to be small." Alas ! the number grew daily, and to name them all would be to give a list of the whole Court. Among those who were most frequently at Chante- loup may be mentioned the Prince and Princesse de Tingry, the Chevalier de Boufflers, M. de Besenval, and Mme. de Tess^. Others too were to be seen there ; the list included the names of du Chatelet, d'Usson, and Segur, of Mme. de Ligne, Mme. d'Enville, Mme. de Chauvelin, Mme. de Chabannes, Mme. d'Ossun, the Marquis and Marquise de Laval, M. and Mme. de Chabot, the Due d'Ayen, MM. d'Esterhazy, de Stainville, de Schomberg, de I'lsle, de Montesquiou, de Coigny, de Jamac, de la Roche- foucauld, etc. 249 In order to leave a permanent memorial, to bear witness to posterity of the sympathy he had received, Choiseul had a sort of Chinese obelisk erected on a central clearing where the princi- pal avenues of the forest of Amboise met ; it was seven stories high, with a staircase inside leading to the top. The ground floor was surrounded by a verandah (or piazza) with sixteen columns support- ing an arched roof; the six upper stories, with arched roofs, formed so many halls, lighted by large windows. This obelisk was called the Pagoda,^ and tablets of marble were placed in the rooms, on which were engraved the names of all who had come to pay their respects to the illustrious exile.^ Foreigners even caught the infection which had affected the greater part of the French nation. Lady Churchill, Walpole's sister-in-law, having come to Paris with her daughter, declared that she would not quit France without having seen Chanteloup ; "The English papers talk of it incessantly,'* she says. "It is Chanteloup this and Chanteloup that, and M. de Choiseul does this thing or the other. I really must see this famous Chanteloup." And she ^ [A similar structure, built by order of George III., exists at Kew. This was designed by Sir William Chambers. Translator.] 2 On the wall of the lower floor a marble tablet bore this in- scription : " Etienne Fran9ois Due de Choiseul, deeply touched by the proofs of friendship, kindness and attention by which he has been honoured during his banishment, from a great number of persons who have visited him here, has raised this monument to immortalize his gratitude." Of all the former splendours of Chanteloup this eccen- tric structure alone remains, and this Pagoda, which the Due at first regarded as a mere toy, cost him first and last more than 200,000 francs (£8000). 250 went there as slie wished, though she did not know the Choiseuls. Lauzun, who was acquainted with her, was deputed to welcome her and her daughter, and to take them all over the chateau ; the hosts and their visitors even went out, to give them the greater liberty. It might be supposed that the infatuation shown by the world of fashion over the Due de Choiseul would be transient in proportion to its violence. Contrary to all expectation, this was not the case ; the fame of the exiles lasted as long as their banish- ment. After a year of disgrace the ex-Minister was as triumphant as on the first day ; and Mme. du DefFant could write with truth : " All the world is making ready to go to see you. Compiegne will be deserted, and the Court will be at Chanteloup. Chantilly and Villers-Cotterets will only have your splashings " (Maboussures), For many years Chanteloup was always thronged with visitors. Besides those who came and went, there were the established guests, settled there and never moving away but for a short absence. They were called the Immovables. Those whose faithful- ness won them this envied title were the Due and Duchesse de Lauzun, the Abbe Barthelemy, the Abb^ Billardi, the Chevalier de Bouiflers, M. de ITsle and M. de Stainville. 251 CHAPTER XX. 1771—1773. Life at Chantelonp. The mode of life at Chanteloup was delightful ; everybody enjoyed the greatest liberty ; it was the fashion of the house, and every one did what he or she liked best. There was breakfast in the morning ; and a solid meal, then called dinner, at noon, to which eighteen or twenty, or more, sat down; the first comers took their places, others appeared at the time that suited them, no one waited. Then some went out, others remained at home, each according to his taste. At eight o'clock all the guests assembled in the drawing-room. During the day every one dressed as was most convenient, but in the evening Court dress was indispensable, all the ladies wearing large hoops and magnificent array. It is impossible to form an idea of the splendour of this dazzling circle, where all the women were a blaze of flowers, silver, gold, pearls and precious stones. Games were the rule till supper-time, some playing backgammon, chess, dominoes, or bagatelle; others gossiped or looked at engravings. At nine o'clock they sat 252 down to supper ; a good and substantial meal, but without display. On rising from table the letters came in by post ; each one read his packet in private. The news was imparted and discussed ; then card tables were brought out ; any one could play or not just as he chose. When cards were over those who liked might go to bed ; those who remained con- versed, and the conversation was very bright and very agreeable, since there were always persons of wit and parts, and very good company. The ease and polish which came of elegant breeding and the habit of society pervaded these meetings ; all the amenity and grace of French manners were to be found there. The Due de Choiseul and his wife, Mme. de Gra- mont, the Abbe Barthelemy, the Abbe Billardi, M. de Gontaut, Lauzun and Boufflers vied with each other in vivacity and wit. At three in the morning they would still be talking. Choiseul was always the most genial host ; unfailingly amiable, smiling and good-humoured, he would dazzle the company by his sparkling high spirits and the drollery of his anecdotes. These parties in the great drawing-room of the chateau left an indelible impression on all who had ever been there. Choiseul, seated at a frame for worsted work and surrounded by quite a little Court, related, while he set the stitches, his reminiscences of his long course of office, and was always ready to criticize the acts of those who had stepped into his place. Anecdotes, bons mots and epigrams flowed 253 without interruption. Attacking everybody and everything— even the King, "who would be such a good King if he had not so many of the points of a bad one" — he kept his audience spell-bound by his sparkling power of language, and always left them convinced that his restoration to office could not long be delayed. But what, now, did he care for politics? Had he not other cares? His fields, his crops, his cattle, these were what really interested him, and what he displayed with pride to his visitors. " ^ Grandpapa ' is wonderful," writes Mme. du Defiant, " he has discovered in himself all the tastes which could take the place of his official occupations. It seems as though he had never studied anything but how to make the best of his land. He has farms built, clears fresh ground, buys flocks at this season to sell them again at the beginning of winter, when they will have manured the soil, and he will have sold the wool. I am firmly convinced that he has no regrets and is perfectly happy." Chanteloup was as cheerful as possible ; the guests were full of spirits and everyone was in harmony. Mme. de Gramont, whose haughty temper had been a cause of alarm, was, on the contrary, indulgent and affable, " infinitely civil, polite and amiable, without the least temper, full of attentions and advances, say- ing only pleasant things, and inspiring confidence and freedom," even in her sister-in-law, to whom she showed the utmost consideration. The lively and inventive fancy of the party devised some fresh amusement every day ; everything was 254 turned into fun ; each one was expected to contribute according to his power and style, and did his best to add to the general enjoyment. The time did not pass, " but flowed away without our perceiving it." Comedies, proverbes and charades were acted ; every one had a nickname ; Mme. de Luxembourg was known as La Ghatte rose (the pink pussy), Mmes. de Poix, d'Ossun, and de Fleury were called the Three Graces, and Mme. de Fleury was also known as UAquilon (the north wind).^ They vied with each other in turning rhymes ; M. de Montesquiou '\\Tote a ballad on Mmes. de Poix, d'Ossun et de Fleury — "They are three." ^ One day it was discovered that Mme. de Lauzun ^ It was the fashion in the best society to bestow ridiculous nicknames. M. de Manrepas was known as Faquinet (little dandy), the Comte d'Argenson as the she-goat. Mme. de Flava- court, the beautiful sister of Mme. de Mailly and Mme. de Chateauroux, was the hen, and so on. The society that gathered round the Duchess de Maine were called the Birds of Sceaux; Mme. de Tencin's betes (her menagerie) were the men of letters who met at her house. The same fashion prevailed at Luneville. * SuR Teois Sceurs. EUes sont trois Riant, chantant, f aisant tapage ; EUes sont trois, Ayant un fort joli minois. Une eiit affole le plus sage ; Mais pour assurer leur ouvrage EUes sont trois. EUes sont trois Pour forcer les coeurs a se rendre, EUes sont trois On a tout I'embarras du choix : D 'aimer on ne pent se defendre ; Mais coEoment le leur f aire entendre ? EUes sont trois. 255 had a wonderful culinary talent, and she was requested to give proof of it. She blushed tremendously, but accepted the challenge. L'Abbe Earth elemy wrote to Mme. du DefFant : *^ Do you know that no one in France possesses in a higher degree a gift which you are far from suspecting, that of cooking scrambled eggs. It was a talent hid in a napkin, she cannot remember when it was bestowed on her. I believe it was at her birth. We heard of it quite by chance. It was forthwith put to the test. Yesterday morn- ing, a day for ever memorable in the history of eggs, during breakfast all the implements necessary for the great operation were brought in : a cooking brazier, some new china — sent, I believe, by you — some gravy, some salt, some pepper and some eggs, and behold ! Mme. de Lauzun, at first blushing and tremulous, but then with intrepid courage, breaks the eggs, crushes them in the pan, turns them right and left, over and over, with a precision and success quite unexampled. Never had we eaten anything so good. The experi- ment was on a small scale, for there were but six Le nombre trois A quelque vertu magique. Le nombre trois, Plus j'y pense, plus je le crois. Mais en vain I'esprit s'alambique On sent ici mieux qu'on n'explique Le nombre trois. Du nombre trois Tout bon Chretien est idolatre, Du nombre trois, Dieu lui-meme s'est mis en trois. Ici Ton se mettra en quatre Plutot que de laisser rabattre Du nombre trois. 256 eggs ; it is to be repeated to-day on a larger number. If she succeeds equally well, it is an un- doubted and superior gift." ^ Mme. de Luxembourg, who was present at her grand-daughter's triumph, made her a present of six kitchen aprons, which she had trimmed with magnifi- 1 Boufflers, who was always the plaything of the Muse, wrote the following rather audacious lines on the occasion : — J'applaudis a Temploi nouveau Qu'on donne a ma cousine, Jamais un si friand morceau N'entra dans la cuisine. Elle aurait tort de repugner A I'etat qu'elle embrasse, C'est ou le bon gout doit regner Qu'elle est mieux a sa place. Tons les gens les plus delicats Conviennent qu'elle excelle. Ceux meme qui ne le sont pas Le deviennent pres d'elle. Mais ma tante on vous avertit Que votre cuisiniere "Ne fait qu'exciter I'appetit Et point le satisfaire. Vous en qui mon ceil prevenu Vit une cuisiniere, Passez moi d'avoir meconnu La plus digne touriere. Pieux costume et doux maintien, Prevenance discrete, Oh ! ma touriere, on le voit bien, Au tour vous etes faite. Entre le cloitre et les mondains Ma divine touriere Semble habiter sur les confins Du ciel et de la terre. Tous deux a son aspect emus Doivent rendre les armes, Les itnmortels a ses vertus, Les mortels a ses charmes. 257 S cent lace. Mine, de Lauzun, dressed up as a cook, put on one of the aprons, and went to thank the Marechale, escorted by all the company. One evening it was suggested that they should fly kites, and the inhabitants of the chateau were en- chanted with the notion. It became a perfect passion. Kites were made of every size and shape ; some had a little lantern attached, which, high in the air, looked liked a star ; others had long tails, which soon vanished, to the great delight of the spectators. For a week this amusement was the rage. Then suddenly a theatrical fever attacked the whole party with extreme virulence. All the chateau was turned topsy-turvy ; the usual amusements were neglected ; nothing was talked of but readings, rehearsals, dresses to be tried on. In the drawing-room, the library, the passages, solitary wanderers were to be met book in hand, and declaiming in an undertone the parts they had great difficulty in learning. No one was held exempt. The slightest suspicion of being able to speak a part was at once put under requisition. Like all amateurs, they would not hear of playing short, light comedies of moderate difficulty ; our impromptu actors attacked the grand dramas of the French stage. They played Andrienne, Les fausses Infidelites, Tartufe, Le Medecin Malgre lu% La Mere jalouse, and the like. Every one acted delightfully ; but Mme. de Choiseul bore away the palm from all rivals by her really distinguished talent ; her success was 258 brilliant. " She looks no more than twelve years old on the stage," wrote the Abbe Barthelemy ; ^^ she is so little embarrassed that she might have been acting these fifteen or twenty years ; she makes her- self heard so distinctly that she might be credited "with the lungs of Stentor." Mme. de Poix triumphed in the part of Mme. Pernelle (in Tartufe) ; she played with such vigour, truth and intelligence, as to rouse the spectators to enthusiasm ; her success was prodigious. M. do Mim surpassed himself in the part of Tartufe ; and as for that of Orgon, it had never been so well played at the Com^die Fran9aise as it was by M. d'Onezan. Some of the guests were fond of coursing : at once a grand hunting establishment was called out ; twice a week there was a stag-hunt or a boar-hunt for the entertainment of the guests at Chanteloup. Lauzun was deputed to organize everything, and from early morning he might be seen holding privy council with the keepers and the head huntsman. Nothing now was talked of but the scent on the wind, breaking cover, doubling, standing at bay, and the like ; Chamaille and Labris^e scoured the forest and came back to report to Lauzun. However, in spite of all their pains the results were disappointing ; the hunting ended in rides through the woods ; neither wild boar nor buck was ever to be seen. They were reduced to carting out a tame stag which lived in the stables, and turning him loose in the forest under the very eyes 259 s 2 of tlie sportsmen, to give them at least the illusion of their favourite pleasure. Shooting parties were not less a failure. Some ban seemed to rest on the chateau. They hoped to com- pensate themselves among the pheasants, but here again there were many disappointments. The wild-fowl, as graceless then as they are now, declined to let themselves be killed by those who had fed them. The pheasants, which had been bred with so much care and then set free, constantly flew off from the land of their birth and wandered away to alien territory. The reason, said the more enlightened, was to be found in the fogs and gloom which pre- vented their finding their way back to the spot whence they had started. Several facetious remedies were proposed to amend this difficulty. One commanded general approval : it was to place in every avenue and on every tree lanterns with sign-boards, on which the direction and distance should be distinctly shown. During the hot summer days there was little to do out-of-doors during the daytime. The ladies spent the morning in the bath or in bed, and the afternoon in very deep easy chairs. When the sun had set the party made their way to the lake, which was illuminated with strings of small lamps ; there they got into a large barge, grandiloquently called "The Frigate," decorated with branches, and pyramids of lanterns and coloured lamps. A smaller boat, also illuminated, candied a band of musicians who performed delightful symphonies on 260 wind instruments — clarionets and bassoons. This followed the frigate. They stayed out till half-past ten, the supper hour. Not unfrequently they spent the night out ; Mme. de Lauzun, Mme. de Poix, and M. de Vaudreuil would sing, and then they would dance till sunrise. They sometimes went as far as to a large pool at about two leagues from the chateau, and sometimes descended the Loire in boats. Mme. de Lauzun was always of the party. The Due de Gontaut constantly came to Chante- loup, and his arrival was always the occasion of pleasantries which were the delight of the exiles. One of these had been concocted with IVIme. du DefFant, whose acquaintance he had but lately made. He had had an instinctive dislike for her, and had always refused to call upon her. At last, however, yielding to Mme. de Choiseul's entreaties, he made up his mind to pay her a visit. Then the old lady was exultant. " I must relate the history of my triumph," she writes to Mme. de Choiseul. " The haughty, the inaccessible, the invincible Gontaut, whom I have so long wished to conquer, who has resisted all my attempts, has at last surrendered. He came to see me yesterday with all his natural gaiety and grace ; he did more ; he promised to sup with me on Mon- day, 17th." — Mme. de Choiseul replies: "The great Gontaut, the haughty Gontaut, whom you have conquered, is one of your humblest vassals ; he boasts more of his defeat than you do 261 of your conquest. He regards his chains as trophies/' The more Mine, du DeiFant sees of her new friend the more she is enraptured : '\1 find the Due de Gontaut really most amiable/' she says; "his liveliness is of a kind peculiar to himself and quite natural." M. de Gontaut was especially apt at grotesque devices. At this moment the work in fashion was unravelling gold thread — jparfilage as it was called ; it was the rage.^ The height of politeness was to make presents of gold thread twisted into every variety of shape : a hat, a well, a mouse-trap, a cat, dog or bird, an arm-chair or a cabriolet, a farmyard of hens and turkeys. All to be undone and ravelled out, when the gold was not worth a quarter of the price paid for the toy.^ This fashion suggested a pleasantry to M. de Gontaut. He had a magnificent wig of gold thread made, which he carried with him to Chant eloup. But before starting he went to take Mme. du DefFant's messages for her friends, and to her he divulged the surprise he was planning for them. Mme. du DefFant, much amused by the idea, was most eager to hear of its success, and she wrote to 1 It consisted in separating the gold from the silk in gold thread, to sell it. The women went so far as to rip the gold braid off the gentlemen's coats ; it is said that at VHlers Cotterets the Due d' Orleans had false gold braid sewn on, as a trick on the ladies. 2 The Due de Lauzun gave to the Comtesse Amelie de Boufflers a harp made of gold thread which had cost more than a thousand livres (£40). 262 Mme. de Choiseul : " Write to me ^vithout a moment's delay what eiFect M. de Gontaut*s appearance pro- duces." " It is very easy to say write without a moment's delay," replies Mme. de Choiseul, " but it is not so easy to obey you. Have you forgotten that I never trust to the post either my sentiments or my in- difference, or my business or my idleness, or my wit or my dulness, or my amusements or my weariness ? I am far from wishing that Mme. du Barry, who, like God, sees all things, should comment on all this. I wait for private opportunities." M. de Gontaut's joke was immensely successful; he put on the wig as he drove up the avenue, and his hosts went out to meet him in the vestibule. Suddenly immoderate shouts of laughter are heard. Everyone flies down, and Phoebus appears with his locks of gold. Everyone admires him. After en- joying his success, M. de Gontaut lays his wig at the hostesses feet. She tries it on, thinks it bewitch- ing, and goes to her room, where, after throwing on a combing-wrapper, she rings for her maids to dress her hair. They come at the summons, and Angelique, noticing nothing, takes up a comb and stands open-mouthed, with staring eyes and her hand in the air, struck to stone (" Medusee ") with aston- ishment. The bystanders are in fits of laughter, and everyone is in ecstasies over M. de Gontaut's in- ventive genius. The Gontauts were indeed a godsend to Chante- loup ; Lauzun was as popular as his father. He was, 26^ in fact, a delightful companion, full of spirits and gaiety, ready for anything, and always contriving something for the entertainment of his uncle and the party at the chateau. Acting plays and charades, music, hunting — he excelled in them all. His conver- sation was delightful, full of subtlety and new views, of variety, enthusiasm, and above all of bewildering liveliness. At Chanteloup, where certainly the elite of French society was brought together in its most agreeable and brilliant representatives, no one could compare with Lauzun. " In my opinion," writes the Abb6 Barthelemy, ^' he is, of all who visit here, the person who has most wit and the best style of pleasantry. His warm heart and generous soul make him adored ; every one dotes on him." How should so amiable and attractive a man, pos- sessing in the highest degree all that can charm and bewitch a woman, living in a society of such easy morals, before scruples of virtue had come into fashion, have escaped the temptations and shunned the triumphs for which he has been so bitterly blamed ? Mme. de Lauzun was no less appreciated than her husband. Her aunt, from whom she was inseparable, was in raptures over her. " It is impossible to be more absolutely nice," she says, "and she always does justice to her gentle and refined nature." ^ ^ A subtle estimate of Mme. de Lanznn was expressed in these words : "She formed herself on the character which the world had given her from the first, and for that reason she is perfect." {Nouveaux Melanges extraits des manuscrits de Mme. NecTcer.) 264 ** As to Mme. de Lauzun," she writes to Mme. du DefFant, " rest assured that there is nowhere a young person more amiable, better bred, more interesting and more charming in every respect than my niece. She has a perfect nature, graced by all the culture proper to it, but without any mannerism.^ I admit that uncultured nature has its pungency, but it has, too, its asperity. I desire that, without bewraying her own nature, a woman should accommodate her- self to the forms consecrated by this society. I would not have her scandalous for the sake of being philosophical, prudish to be virtuous, romantic to seem sublime, coarse to be candid, trivial to be 1 Mme. Necker has left a rather pretentious but very laudatory portrait of Mme. de Lauzun, under the name of Emilie. We give a few exti'acts. " Who ever knew this charming woman without feeling the gentlest emotions of both affection and friendship ? Her unpretend- ing graces might, I must confess, inspire a too impassioned senti- ment if it were not repressed by the noble propriety of her looks and the heavenly expression of her countenance ; for it is thus that Emilie commands without knowing it, and that she never arouses a sentiment unworthy of her. . . . Emilie rarely speaks in praise of virtue, for she discerns, without avowing it, that this would be to praise herself. She shuns being gazed at or distinguished; she cannot follow the common road, but would not be seen to avoid it. The great consideration she enjoys at a still early age is not due to virtue alone ; for there are women to be found, who are wholly honest, and who even undertake austere duties, without having won the bloom of reputation which Emilie possesses. It is rather to an intrinsic purity, to the nature of her thoughts which is revealed in all her speech and in all her movements, and of which her face is the image, that she owes the esteem and consideration that surround her. Women who aim at captivating opinion try to insinuate themselves into other minds by flattering speeches and attentions of every kind ; Emilie, on the contrary, has never shown any sentiments but benevolence to indifferent persons ; she nevertheless wins all suffrages, like those celestial bodies which, seeming to remain always in the same place, nevertheless attract all the others about them without movement and without effort." 265 natural ; Mme. de Lauzun is none of these things. Above all I ask that her age, her face, her mind, her mien, and her character should be all of a piece, and Mme. de Lauzun is a perfect instance of such a combination." 266 CHAPTER XXI. The Court in 1771 — The Parlemeut is suppressed — Banishment of the Princes of the blood — The Carnival at Paris — The Ball at the Opera — Sleigh-driving — Marriage of the Comte de Provence — Death of the Due de Vauguyon — Mme. du Barry's circle — The Duchesses de Mazarin and d'Aiguillon. What had happened at Paris and at Court since Choiseul had been disgraced, and living in sumptuous banishment at Chanteloup ? The downfall of this potent Minister had been followed by very grave events. Maupeou no sooner found himself free to act than he pitilessly persecuted the Magistrates of the Parlement. This body had believed itself inviolable ; and in one day it was dis- solved, annulled and replaced ; its members all banished. The change was effected without resist- ance, to everybody's amazement/ " They make no ^ This, in a few words, is a sketch of the course of events : The parlement having quarrelled with the King, suspended its sittings ; in spite of royal injunctions and letters of requisition five times repeated, it refused to register the edict which prohibited all corre- spondence between the different parlements, and any suspension of the sittings. The Chancellor instituted a parlement in- tcrimaire, composed of the members of the State Comicil. Then, to conciliate public opinion, he broke up the Paris parlement, and created six superior councils in the provinces, whose functions were to be purely judicial ; venality in judicial offices was suppressed, and gratuitous justice proclaimed. 267 more of breaking parliametits here," says Walpole, ^' than an English mob does of breaking windows." And yet these measures roused violent antipathies against the Chancellor. Paris was flooded with pamphlets attacking him, and in the streets braids for coats were publicly sold and called a la chanceliere, because they were of false metal and never reddened. He was compared with Jacques Clement, Ravaillac and Damiens ; all good citizens were called upon to deliver their country " from the wretch who had ruined it." Hideous and threatening placards were put up at his own door, and on the walls gibbets were scrawled,, and a man hanging, with the inscrip- tion, eloquently brief: **The Chancellor." This indignation was universal ; Maupeou having requested an audience of the Prince de Conti, the reply was that the Prince would meet him on the Place de Greve.^ During these troublous days the King was speak- ing to the Marechal de Biron of the dearth of money : "Would your Majesty like to gain three million livres without any outlay, in a single day, amid the rejoicings of all the people ? " asked the old Marechal. ** In what way?" replied the sovereign, surprised. '^Your Majesty has only to erect a gibbet in the middle of the Place des Sablons and have the Chancellor hanged on it. At a crown a head the receipts will soon run to three millions." Sarcasms, abuse, universal virulence left Maupeou immovable. He went on with his work, and nothing 1 The place of public execution. 268 could deter him. In the end he conquered all opposition, and April 13, 1771, at a Bed of Justice, the Paris parlement was finally abolished. In its place sat the parlement Maupeou. " This is a fetid beast," wrote d'Alembert, " but the old beast was venomous.'* The Princes of the blood, with the exception of the Comte de la Marche/ all took part against the King. They not only wrote to him to request the recall of the parlement, but on the occasion of the Bed of Justice of April 13, they refused to sit. Exas- perated by this recalcitrancy, Louis XV. forbade the Princes to appear in his presence, to see any member of the royal family, or to frequent any place where the royal family might go. These events produced a great commotion in society. Nothing was talked about but remon- strances, arrests, banishment, and lettres de cachet : " It is the Tower of Babel, it is chaos, it is the end of the world," writes Mme. du DefFant. " There is nothing but misunderstanding ; every one hates every one else, fears every one else, tries to be their ruin. The she monkey (Guenon) who rules us is as insolent as she is siUy." It may be supposed what satisfaction this news gave to the lord and lady of Chanteloup and their guests. ^ Son of the Prince de Conti. His father, fui^ious with him, cut him off, and would not recognize him as his son. The Prince de Conti was a violent partisan of the old Magistracy, and was one of the most eager to sign the protest of the Princes. This attitude led to a quarrel with the King, who thenceforth always spoke of him as " my cousin the attorney." 269 " But for the government, there would be nothing in France to laugh at/' said one of them. They were not less delighted to see the difficulty the King was in to find a substitute for Choiseul in his offices. A poet who was their friend summed up the situation in four disrespectful but funny lines, and many offensive and ribald epigrams on the King were in circulation. After several men had refused to serve him, leaving him in a painful position, Louis XV. was forced to take, as Minister of War, the Marquis de Monteynard, a man of no fibre or stability. He appointed to be Minister of Marine, M. de Boynes, an honest man, but as far as possible from being competent.^ In the month of June, d'Aiguillon at last won the reward of his intrigues ; he was appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs. When he first came to Court as Minister, the Dauphiness, who could not forgive him for filling Choiseul' s place, not only avoided speaking to him, but turned her back when he came [up to make his bow. This humiliation, reported at Chanteloup by Lauzun, was there, as may be supposed, greatly appreciated. Choiseul's overthrow had caused almost as much agitation abroad as in France, but at Vienna especially it was very painfully felt. Not only had Maria-Theresa lost in him the firmest bulwark ^ Sophie Arnould, seeing him at the opera, where the scene on the stage was a ship on a stoi-my sea, exclaimed, " Oh, how fortunate! He has come here to get some idea of the navy." 270 of the Franco-Austrian alliance, but she had also lost the best protector and safest guide of Marie Antoinette/ She felt this all the more keenly because the details written to her by Mercy of the state of the French Court were not of a reassurino- nature. " It is almost impossible, ^' the diplomate writes, " that your Majesty should form at all an accurate idea of the horrible confusion which prevails here, throughout. The throne is degraded by the outrageousness and the enormous influence of the favourite, and the malignancy of her partisans. The nation breathes seditious schemes and gross writings, in which the King's person is not spared ; Versailles is a centre of perfidy, hatred and revenge ; everything is carried on by intrigue and personal aims, and it would seem that every sentiment of honesty has been discarded." ^ The political disturbances which so roused public passion, and the intrigues which divided the Court and Society, in no way affected the amusements of people of fashion during the winter of 1 77 1-2. On the contrary, it seemed as though the world were seeking, in a constant succession of new and varied pleasures, some respite from the serious anxieties 1 The Empress R^ent wrote to Mercy, " I own that I keenly feel the loss of Choiseul, and I fear we shall suffer from it only too much. Vermond will certainly be got rid of. I regard that as inevitable, and then my daughter's ruin. . . . This abominable clique will spoil my daughter and will make her suspect those who might give her good advice, or think them very much in the way." (January 4.) 2 April 16, 1771. 271 which weighed on every mind. Paris was unusually gay, and the carnival was not less tumultuous than in former years. Balls were given and crowded, in the world of fashion. Besides the ordinary masquerades, the idea was invented of dancing proverb- quadrilles : that is to say, that each couple by dress and demeanour illustrated a proverb which the company were expected to guess. This amusement was so much approved of as to be considered worthy of introduction at an opera-ball. One of these quadrilles had an amazing success ; it was invented by Mme. de Genlis, and Mme. de Lauzun took part in it ; she came to Paris from Chanteloup on purpose to figure in it with M. de Belsunce. She was dressed with extreme simplicity, and wore a plain grey belt, to illustrate the saying, " A good name is better than a belt of gold," a motto that had been forced upon her by acclamation. Some other couples were not less expressive. The young Duchesse de Liancourt figured with the Comte de Boulainvilliers disguised as an old man : " A young mouse for an old cat." Mme. de Marigny's partner, M. de Saint- Julien, was disguised as a negro, and from time to time she wiped his face with her handkerchief : ^' Washing a Moor's head is waste of lye ! " The Vicomte de Laval, in a splendid costume braided with jewels, but looking grave and sad, w^alked in by the side of Mme. de GenHs dressed as a peasant and wearing a most cheerful air: "Contentment is better than riches." Gardel had arranged the figures of the dance, and that too 272 illustrated a proverb : " Draw back to get a better leap." (Reculer pour mieux santer.) This quadrille was so successful tbat the illustrious performers repeated it several times at the opera- baUs.^ As the winter was exceedingly cold, and a great deal of snow was lying, sleighs came into fashion. These carriages, which are only to be seen in northern countries, and which till then were perfectly unknown in Paris, were the astonishment and admiration of the gazers on the Boulevards. As soon as one of these strange vehicles appeared, a crowd followed to stare at it. Lauzun and his friends, the Due de Chartres, Gu^menee, Coigny, and Fronsac, were not likely to forego such an amusement ; they were constantly to be seen driving about the Boulevards in a splendid procession. Each of them would invite a lady to drive with him. They appeared in furred pelisses and with masks. Outriders, pages and grooms made an imposing escort, and the long line of sleighs, with all this dashing nobility, excited general curiosity. This new amusement soon became the rage. The o 1 On one of these occasions an enormous cat came plunging in, rushing among the dancers and confusing all the figures. This again was a proverb : " Do not wake a sleeping cat." The pleasantries devised for these balls were sometimes not devoid of wit. Daring the carnival of 1772 six nominations were expected to the order of the Holy Ghost — wearing a blue riband. Then one morning it was announced that no one would be named. In the evening, at the opera-ball, six masks appeared with blue noses a foot long, and these words on a label, " Promotion of 1772." 273 T Dauphiness wished to share in it, and she would have sleigh drives with the people of her circle ; every time they took place she invited the ladies and gentlemen of the party to breakfast ; the ladies she admitted to her o^vn table, the gentlemen had their meal apart. Each sleigh was driven by one of the gentlemen invited. In May, 1771, the marriage took place of the Comte de Provence to a princess of Savoy. The Court went as far as to Fontainebleau to receive her. The King, on seeing her, could not help exclaiming that he thought her very ugly. Lauzun and his wife could not escape coming from Chanteloup to be present at the wedding festivities ; all the Court indeed was present, with the exception of the Princes of the blood, who were still in disgrace. Their places remained vacant at every ceremony, and the effect was to cast a cloud of depression on all the rejoicings. On the 14th, the day of the marriage, everything was conducted precisely as it had been for the Dauphin; the same rejoicings, the same- banquet, the same ceremonial and formalities at the coucher of the bride and bridegroom. On the following day the King supped in public with the royal family. Some thieves, splendidly dressed, got in with the fashionable spectators, and stole valuables to a considerable amount. The Prince de Soubise was robbed of a purse full of money ; the Princesse de Gudmdn^e was spoken to at the buffet by a well- dressed stranger, who politely offered her a glass of 274 lemonade ; slie accepted, and presently discovered that she had lost a bracelet of great value. On the following days there were fireworks, illuminations and operas. On the 20th a full dress ball was given at Versailles. The ball-room was decorated with great taste and magnificence ; nothing so fine had ever been seen. The sixth minuet was danced by Mme. de Lauzun with M. de Tonnerre. The lady was so fresh and attractive, and her dress so becoming, that she was declared the queen of the ball : " She carried off every prize," writes Mme. da Deffant, " for good grace, for dancing, for magnifi- cence ; " and she adds spitefully : " The Comtesse de Provence might take the prize for ugliness, but her husband adores her." Before returning to Chanteloup, M. and Mme. de Lauzun were invited to a grand fete-champetre given by the Duchesse de Mazarin ^ at her hotel on the Quai Malaquais, in honour of the royal marriage. This entertainment was held in two immense rooms separated by a plate of glass ; in one was the Princess with the other guests, in the other there were trees, grass-plots, paths bordered with flowers, and even waterfalls. Some ballet dancers from the opera- house, dressed as shepherdesses, were to lead across it ^ Louise de Durfort, Duchesse de Mazarin, was a very singular woman. It was always said that the Fairy Ill-star of Ill-luck had presided at her birth. She was fair and very handsome, and yet no one admired her ; she had magnificent diamonds, and when she wore them she was compared to a cut-glass chandelier ; she did not lack wit, but was always saying the wrong thing ; she lived lavishly and was considered avaricious. Nothing succeeded with her; if she gave a concert, the conductor broke his leg; or a supper, the kitchen caught fire. 2/5 T 2 a flock of sheep, beautifully washed and white, with a dog and a heifer, and then they were to perform pastoral dances. At first all went well ; unfortunately the heifer turned fractious and rushed at the plate of glass, which was broken into a thousand pieces ; she then made her way into the adjoining drawing-room, followed by the sheep and the distracted dog, which drove the flock in every direction. The animals ran under the ladies' dresses, the dog barked like mad, the heifer galloped up and down the room. All the women jumped on to the seats, Mme. de Lauzun the first of them. Mme. de Lamballe climbed on to a chimney- piece, shrieking like a peacock ; Mme. de Provence laughed herself into hysterics. At last, tired of trying to turn them out, the place was abandoned to the scared creatures ; but when the company went to supper, it was discovered that in the confusion half the meal had been upset on the stairs. This little entertainment had cost more than eighty thousand livres (£3200). A household was established for the Comte and Comtesse de Provence on a magnificent scale, which gave rise to criticisms from the Court and from the public. It was the Due de la Vauguyon who had urged the creation of all these offices, and he was certainly not disinterested, since he sold them. But Providence was about to interfere and put a term to the intrigues and depredations of this old courtier. He was attacked by a fatal illness at the 276 New Tear, 1772, and died on February 5tli. His death was regretted by none. The Dauphin often complained bitterly of the way in which La Vauguyon had brought him up, and was wont to say that the only man he ever had hated was his old tutor. He remembered the education he had received from him with such contempt that he would not go to see him even during his last illness. The day after his death the opera of Castor and Pollux was performed. The ballet of devils went all wrong, and Sophie Amould said for all to hear, that they were so much upset by M. de la Vauguyon's arrival among them that their heads were turned. Though the bride was graceless, with a cold and awkward bearing, and she had no style of manner, Marie Antoinette, out of compassion, was inclined to welcome her sister-in-law. But the Comtesse de Provence was circumvented as soon as she arrived, and by the advice of her husband, who was very ambitious, and desirous of playing a part in politics, she openly attached herself to Mme. du Barry. This was enough to place her in extremely strained rela- tions with the Dauphiness. Choiseul's downfall had not made Mme. du Barry's position at all easier or more agreeable. Hatred on all sides had been aggravated, and the Dauphiness especially could never forgive the favourite for the banishment of the popular minister. The few ladies who, from more or less interested motives, had consented to form a circle about Mme. 277 du Barry, remained faithful to tlieir new allegiance, but tlieir number was very small. Mme de Mire- poix, Mme. de Valentinois, and Mme. de Mont- morency, all three pensioners on the Privy purse, in reality constituted the whole of the favourite's intimate society. But if the group was so small, did not concord reign at any rate among the chosen few ? Far from it : " Take my word for it," writes Mme. du DeiFant, " there is not a gambling hell where such preposter- ous things occur as in a place you know of ; they all live like cats and dogs ; vieing with each other as to which can make most show of disdain and contempt for the others, and which can make herself most worthy of it." Instead of being perfectly indifferent to everything which did not emanate from the King, by showing very plainly that she was there for his sake and cared nothing for aught else, Mme. de Mirepoix allowed herself fits of sulks and "making friends again " which were an additional humiliation. These trumpery squabbles were the despair of Mme. du Defiant. " Nothing," she writes, " is more deserving of commiseration. A great lady, very well-conducted, with much wit and many attractions all combined — and the outcome is that she is the slave of a hussy. But there is no help, for she has lost step and cannot catch the measure again." Gambling, dissipation and expenditure enabled Mme. de Mirepoix to forget the bitterness of her position. Nay, more ; she carried her forgetfulness 27S of her rank and name so far as to be jealous of Mme. dii Barry's newer friends. Thus when the Duchesse de Mazarin — ^who had become enormously stout — ^was admitted to join the royal journeys and was invited to Bellevue, Mme. de Mirepoix could not conceal her rage, and sulked at the favourite for several days. The Princesse de Montmorency, on her part, declared that if Mme. de Mazarin were admitted she should retire. During the last months of 1771, Lauzun, who rarely visited Paris now excepting on official duty or to attend official ceremonies, was obliged to come thither several times by important events occurring among his nearest relations. In the month of October, his mother-in-law, the Duchesse de Boufflers, sent in her resignation of the place she held in the household of the Dauphiness, and she was succeeded by the Duchesse de Luxembourg. Two months later, Lauzun's uncle, the old Mare- chal de Biron, discovered, after thirty-one years of married life, that he and his wife must part for in- compatibility of temper. Matters had indeed reached such a point that life in common had become intoler- able, and they separated with no little noise ; the Marechal resigned to Mme. de Biron all her consider- able fortune, but this left him in such precarious circumstances that the King allowed him a pension of 40,000 livres until he could be appointed governor of some large province. The Marechal bore this family disaster with great serenity of mind, and received the most flattering 2/9 marks of attention. He had a passion for flowers, and tlie gardens of his house in Paris (since the Con- vent of the Sacred Heart) enjoyed a well-deserved reputation. The Dauphiness and Mme. de Provence came to spend an afternoon with the Marechal, and he had the honour and satisfaction of walking about for some hours with his royal visitors, and showing them his park, and the hothouses full of the rarest plants. The gardens and his regiment, the French Guards, were now his sole surviving passions, and he devoted himself to them entirely. He had introduced very severe discipline among his soldiers, but at the same time he neglected nothing that could stimulate their zeal, and his men adored him. In 1772 he obtained from the King a distinctive mark of honour for all who had served well during twenty-four years : a small red star with two swords crossed. He immedi- ately bestowed the decoration on twelve soldiers, and the presentation took place in the presence of the whole regiment with unaccustomed formalities. Lauzun was, of course, invited to the ceremony, and he returned from Chanteloup to support his uncle. His presence was all the more indispensable because he was generally, and with justice, looked upon as the future colonel of the regiment. 280 CHAPTER XXII. 1771—1772. M. de Guemenee — Mme. de Rothe — The Comtesse Dillon — The Archbishop of Narbonne — Life at Hantefontaine — Coursing parties — Lauzun leaves for England. After being most dutifully assiduous in his atten- dance at Chanteloup for many months, Lauzun, who was lectured there rather more than he liked, began to make his visits more rare, and before long only appeared for a few days at a time. It needed no great perspicacity to discern that other interests occupied his mind and gave rise to his prolonged absence. The Due was in love ; and this time, in opposition to general custom and his own habits, his passion, though deep, remained purely platonic. Hence in our opinion it deserves more than passing mention, more than just a name tossed aside into the charnel-pit of transient amours. To justify this view, the story shall be told. M. de Guemenee, Lauzun's intimate friend, had married, as we have seen in a former chapter, the daughter of the Marechal de Soubise. The begin- nings of the young couple were of the usual type ; 281 M. de Guemenee lived very happily with his wife for some time, but soon, without any difference — for indeed they were on as good terms as ever — the husband and wife drifted apart. Among the houses which M. de Guemenee was fond of visiting was that of Monseigneur Dillon, Archbishop of Narbonne/ This Archbishop is a very striking example of the prelates of the eighteenth century, living fast, enjoying everything, and regarding the career into which they had been forcibly thrown merely as a source of enormous income. As to spiritual ministry, they never thought of it. In fact, at that time the priesthood was a career like any other, for which no vocation was thought requisite. In the seventeenth century a few humbler names might still be found on the list of bishops, but in the eighteenth, the higher ecclesiastical benefices were considered the exclusive prerogative of the nobility. The elder sons of the aristocracy wore the sword; the cadets, or such as were infirm or crippled, like the Prince de Talleyrand, bore the crozier and mitre ; and they were envied rather than pitied, for they were bishops by the time they were thirty, and enjoyed large revenues, without thinking ^ Arthur Dillon, bom in 1721 ; Bishop of Evrenx, 1753 ; Arch- bishop of Toulouse, 1758 ; of Narbonne, 1762 ; President of the States of Languedoc and of the Ecclesiastical Conclave, 1780. The Dillon family was of Irish origin (Vicounts Dillon of the Irish peerage). Louis XIV. had invited a Dillon to France to command his Irish Guard. AU his descendants rose to high fortunes. [This first Arthur Dillon " seems to have accompanied to Brest, in May, 1690, a Jacobite regiment raised by his father, which Louis XIV. asked in exchange for the French iaroops sent to Ireland." — ^Diction- ai*y of National Biography.] 282 themselves bound by any obligation to the duties of their office. There were, indeed, here and there some evecTies crottes (muddy sees), as they were called in scorn, because they were so poorly endowed, but they were very few. There were in France a hundred and thirty-one bishops and archbishops all belonging to the highest nobility; there were even some Sees which had become the appanage of certain families. For more than a century Rohan had succeeded Rohan in that of Strasbourg. Almost all of these noblemen- bishops were grand personages, and we find in them the characteristics of their race. Many held a little Court and kept house in a princely style. They had pages, armed retainers, gentlemen in waiting, and a legion of vicars general, who formed a splendid escort. They made it a point of honour to have the finest horses, the most elegant carriages, troops of servants and a splendidly served table. They all displayed the most lavish and refined hospitality. These magnificent and wealthy prelates never appeared in public but in a coach with four or six horses, and squires and lackeys in splendid liveries. And they hunted and gave fetes, and kept mistresses, and led an utterly profane life. The cares of their diocese troubled them so little that many had never set foot in the city of their See. The abbots and abbesses in their abbeys led a not more edifying life. At the Convent of Origny, near Saint-Quentin, the abbess received gentlemen visitors to dine in her own rooms. At the Abbey of 283 Remiremont all sorts of secular amusements were devised. The canonesses of the Chapter of Alix, near Lyons, attended service in the choir in hoops and Court dresses. At Granselve, in the Gard district, the Cistercians held two weeks of high festival at the anniversaries of their patron saint ; they invited the ladies of the neighbourhood and entertained them hospitably to sleep at the mon- astery. They hunted, danced, acted plays, lived on the best of good cheer, in short, enjoyed every form of amusement. At Saint- Germain des Pres the Abbot de Clermont allowed a dancer, Mile. Leduc, to do the honours of his table. And the same license prevailed everywhere. In the eighteenth century, it will have been seen, everyone, whether in orders or in the world of fashion, made it a point of conscience to be amused. This was the invariable rule, which no one cared to break through. However attractive the Archbishop of Narbonne's drawing-room might be, M. de Guem^nee would perhaps have been a less regular visitor if he had not found there a charming woman, Mme. Dillon, the daughter of Mme. de Rothe.^ Mme. de Rothe, the Archbishop's niece, was the widow of a General. She had been very handsome, and this was still visible ; but she had a love of intrigue, her manners were not agreeable, and her ^ Mgr. de Narbonne's nephew, Arthur Dillon, had married Mile, de Rothe, whose mother was the daughter of Lady Forster, the Archbishop's sister. 284 temper was said to be despotic. She did the honours of her uncle's house, having lived with him for many years. The Archbishop had an income of eight hundred thousand livres from Church property. He went to Narbonne every alternate year for a fortnight, and he presided at the meeting of the States at Mont- pelier for six weeks. During those two months he conscientiously devoted himself to his functions as Archbishop and Administrator. But as soon as the meeting of the States was over, he put his papers back into their portfolios, never to think of them again till the States should next assemble, any more than of the cares of his diocese. Mme. de Rothe, as has been said, had with her^Mme. Dillon, her daughter ; and this younger lady's pre- sence also contributed to make the Archbishop's salon a pleasant resort. Few women, indeed, combined so many talents, accomplishments and amiable qualities. She was tall and well made, if rather too thin : " She had a pretty complexion and a charming face, in which the gentleness of her soul was expressed, as it was also in the tones of her voice.'* Noble, generous, and very much the fashion, she was not in the least a coquette, and her fidelity to her friends was immovable. M. de Guemenee fell very genuinely in love with Mme. Dillon, and paid her the most eager attentions. Without speaking of his feelings to Lauzun, he carried him off to the Archbishop's residence . What was Lauzun's surprise on recognizing in the Com- 285 tesse Dillon tlie endianting young lady whom he had mistaken for his promised bride, on the day when his fate had been sealed at Mme. de Mirepoix afternoon dance. Ere long Lauzun was as frequently at the house as Guemenee. He too found Mme. Dillon's charms irresistible, and he soon was most sincerely in love with her. He knew now that his friend Guemenee was wholly devoted to her, but passion proved too much for friendship and reason, and he alloAved himself to be carried away by it. He might, he ought to have gone away, to have fled from an intimacy which could only be luckless. He had not courage ; still his conduct was not lacking in noble- ness and dignity. He went to Guemenee and honestly confessed the state of his feelings. The Prince on his part was not unworthy of this candour, and he gave proof of a magnanimous confidence of which only a generous and true heart would have been capable. " I adore Mme. Dillon," he said, " that is true, and I have vowed to devote my whole life to her, but I know not her feelings towards me. Do not go away, leave her free to choose ; at any rate do not deprive her of a friend." And Lauzun remained. Never were a couple of rivals so trustful of each other or more tenderly attached. Lauzun, deeply touched by the Prince's magnanimity, and disarmed by his noble confidence, confessed to Mme. Dillon with great frankness that he was inconstant, and of an independent spirit. Still he was not the less in love with the lady, and he continued to live in 286 close friendsliip witli tlie x^rchbishop and his friends, which enabled him to gaze at least at the object of his adoration. Mgr. Dillon lived in grand style in Paris, but it was at Hautefontaine ^ that he preferred to reside during the greater part of the year. It was the custom for these great prelates to have a country house where they lived in much magnificence. All those who passed the winter in Paris spent the fine season in their country quarters. Hautefontaine belonged to Mme. de Rothe, but the Archbishop kept house there. It was a splendid residence ; M. de Rothe had purchased it in 1764 from the Marquis de Brion for the sum of six hundred and seventy-five thousand livres (£27,000). The house, which was very old, had a south frontage of more than sixty metres, and was fifty-six metres in depth from south to north. It was surrounded by fine woods, with three vast pools of water. Life at Hautefontaine was delightful, but gay rather than episcopal. The Prince de Guemenee brought down the famous musical virtuosi of the day, and capital concerts were given, Mme. Dillon being an excellent musician ; plays were acted ; ^ Hautefontaine (Alta Fontana) had formerly been a royal demesne, a fief probably of the ancient house of Guise. Louis VIII. bestowed the manor in 1224 on Robert III. Comte de Dreux et de Braine, surnamed Gatebled, with that of Bonneuil en Valois, for a rental of fifty hogsheads of com ; it remained in that family for a long period. In Louis XlVth's time it was in possession of the house of Brion, to whom the King granted the exclusive right of running passenger barges {coches d'eau) on the rivers Oise and Aisne. 2S7 horse-racing was introduced in imitation of English races; in short, every kind of entertainment and amusement was to be found there. The tone of the Hautefontaine circle was ex- tremely free, and the easy conduct which prevailed in society, there showed itself in broad daylight. A young married lady whose rank and family con- nection required that she should make a stay there, has recorded her difficulty in accommodating herself to the manners of the house. Her shyness, and her affection for her husband, which she did not conceal, brought down on her endless banter and sarcasm. Seeing her one day very much disconcerted by all this raillery, an old priest — for there were priests among this ribald throng — said to her : " Madame, do not distress yourself ; you are very pretty, which in itself is a mistake ; still, for that you will be forgiven ; but if you wish to live here in peace, make less display of your affection for your husband. Conjugal love is the only love which is not tolerated. '^ It is quite certain that others were tolerated with the utmost indulgence, though the proprieties were always observed. There were established conventionalities which only a very great lady or an exceptionally superior or impudent one would dare to infringe. Mme. Dillon was not one of these, and though her life was unedifying, her manners were extremely reserved. In the best company, in the eighteenth century, manners were as severely correct as speech was the reverse. A man who should lay his hand on the 288 back of a chair in whicli a lady was sitting would have been thought grossly insolent ; only excessive intimacy allowed of a couple walking arm-in-arm, and it was scarcely ever seen even in the country. A gentleman never offered his hand or his arm on going into the dining-room, and never would a man take a seat by a woman on a sofa. The women were treated with the most respectful formality ; men usually addressed a lady in the third person, and never used the familiar tu (thou) even among them- selves in her presence. In speaking to her they adopted a lower pitch of tone than when addressing a man ; this shade of deference had an effect of in- describable refinement. On the other hand, the things they said were free to the point of license. Walpole, an acute observer, confinns this : "It requires the greatest curiosity or the greatest habi- tude to discover the smallest connection between the sexes here. No familiarity but under the veil of friendship is permitted, and Love's dictionary is as much prohibited as at first sight one should think his ritual was." ^ The reserve officially maintained on moral grounds was carried out with not less scrupulous exactitude in religious matters, but the basis was not more genuine. Thus, on Sunday, the inhabitants of Hautefontaine and their guests would on no account have missed attending Mass ; every one duteously went to church. But do not be surprised at seeing a smile on the lips 1 To Gray, January 25, 1766. 289 U of some of the worshippers ; each one holds a book which he devoutly studies, but though the binding is that of a Prayer-book, the contents are some collec- tion of licentious and scandalous tales. No one pretends to conceal the fact, and all these books lie throughout the week in the family gallery of the chapel for the benefit of the servants and cleaners, who may edify themselves by reading them at their leisure. There was always a great deal of company at Haute- fontaine. The greatest in rank, the most brilliant talent, the most fashionable courtiers, all that was highest and most distinguished in the Church were eager to accept Mgr. Dillon's invitations, and all regarded them as a great honour. They flew to enjoy that splendid hospitality, and the various entertainments by which the Archbishop sought to please his guests. One of the most intimate of his friends was Mgr. de Bourdeilles : he had been made a tonsured priest at the age of ten ; then he had renounced his orders and become a musketeer. Later again he went back to Saint Sulpice, and was made Bishop of Soissons. He was very fond of the grand style of living at country chateaux ; he often went to Com- piegne, and even more often to Hautefontaine, which was very near his own episcopal residence. He used to arrive in a fine gilt coach drawn by four horses, and escorted by four stalwart lackeys in liveries covered with gold braid. It was in the hunting season especially that visitors 290 came in crowds to Hautefontaine. In open contempt of the canons of the Council of Trent, which prohibit the chase cum rumore et ululatu, numbers of bishops in the eighteenth century kept a pack of hounds and a hunting establishment. They were to be seen even on Sundays and holydays, scouring the country for hours with their dogs and beaters. Mgr. Dillon had no mind to forego so pleasant a dissipation, and gave himself up to it with passion. He had a very fine establishment, mounted in the English style, which was the object of general admiration; the Archbishop, Lauzun, and Guemenee shared the ex- pense, and three times a week they hunted the stag in the forests of Beauvais and Compiegne . When the Bishop of Montpellier, whose austere virtue awed everybody, was on a visit to Hautefontaine, he followed the hounds in an open carriage. Then Mgr. Dillon would say to his companions : " Come, gentle- men, no swearing to-day, you know." But when carried away by the excitement of the chase, he was the first to put spurs to his horse, and, forgetting his injunctions, would address his people and his dogs in terms of amazing energy. Indeed, he gave himself up with such zeal to this prohibited amusement, that one day when following a stag, he with his dogs and horses plunged into the middle of a procession which was crossing his path. This was not merely sacrilege ; it was also an outrage on the received proprieties. In France, when the princes and princesses met the Procession of the Host, they stopped their carriages, got out, and fell on their knees on the pavement. 291 u 2 But though Mgr. Dillon cared not at all for the Council of Trent, or even for processions, when in pursuit of his favourite amusement, to make up for that he was more scrupulous where the priests of his diocese were concerned, and severely interdicted their indulging in the sport he so freely enjoyed. One of his clergy, punished for the crime of hunting, carried his appeal even to the foot of the throne. Louis XVI. said one day to Mgr. Dillon : " Monsieur TArcheveque, it is said that you are very fond of hunting." — " Yes, Sir." — '' I quite understand it. So am I. But your priests like it too ; why do you for- bid it to them when you allow it to yourself? " — " For a very simple reason. My vices are the vices of my family ; my priests' vices are their own.'' After spending several months in the society of his friends and the delightful intimacy which is the outcome of daily intercourse and perfect community of sentiment, Lauzun began to think of leaving. Though Mme. Dillon was as kind and as amiable to him as ever, and she remained his faithful and attached friend, her preference for Guemenee was beyond a doubt. To change the course of his ideas as com- pletely as possible, he determined to leave France for a time, and announced his intention of starting for England.^ Mme. Dillon's entreaties and M. de Guemenee's arguments were powerless to stop him, and he embarked on December 12, flying from scenes and memories which he could no longer endure. 1 The details of the life at Hautefontaine are for the most part derived from the unpublished Memoirs of Mme. de X. 292 CHAPTER XXIII. 1773. Arrival in London — The Comte de Guines — Princess Czartoriska — ^Prince Repnine — Lady Craven — Fashionable life — Lady Harland and her daughter — Horse-racing — Scandal about Lady Craven and the Comte de Guines — The Princess leaves for Spa — The Portsmouth review — Lauzun goes to Spa — The Princess visits Brussels and Holland — Her arrival in Paris. Lauzun, quite dejected by the events of his stay at Hautefontaine, and the blow to his vanity inflicted by Mme. Dillon, started for London at the end of 1772. This unforeseen voyage surprised all his friends, and particularly his family, who had no suspicion of his secret motives : " M. de Lauzun is going to spend six weeks with you," Mme. du DefFant wrote to Walpole. " What will he do there ? That, I fancy, he knows no more than I do." This was Lauzun s first visit to England since his stay there in 1767. He found there all his friends of an earlier time, and especially those Englishmen who were in the habit of coming to Paris, and with whom he was intimate. In conformity with etiquette, his first call was on the French Ambassador in London. The Comte (afterwards Due) de Guines was a man of much 293 wit and grace. " He was considered one of the most brilliant and amiable men about the Court. His face and figure were not remarkable, excepting for extreme care in dressing his hair and his person. His reputation for wit rested solely on a sort of espionnage of every trivial incident that was ridiculous or in bad taste, which he would relate in a few words and in a very amusing way, informing against the perpetrators to the Marechale de Luxem- bourg, and laughing at them very pleasantly with her and Mme. de Boufflers. He had some agreeable accomplishments, was a good musician and played the flute very well." ^ He had begun his diplomatic career as Ambassador to Prussia, obtaining the appointment through the favour of the Duke of Orleans.^ Then from Berlin he was sent to London, where we now find him. M. de Guines had every reason to give Lauzun a warm welcome ; he received him with every mark of satisfaction, placed himself at his friend's service, and took him the same evening to a party at Lady Harrington's. Lauzun soon renewed his acquaint- ance with London society, and his charm of manner, ^ Souvenirs de Mme. de Genlis. 3 To obtain this embassy he played a strange little drama, which greatly amused the lookers on, and which was perfectly successful. The Due d' Orleans, it is well known, had a mistress, Mme. de Mon- tesson. M. de Guines made a display of being madly in love with this lady, and at last quite turned her head. He then wrote her a pathetic letter full of protestations of attachment, but confessing that he no longer loved her, that he adored the Comtesse Amelie de Boufflers. Mme. de Montesson was in despair ; she had the vapours and spasms, and made scenes without end, to such effect that the Due d' Orleans, for the sake of peace, sent Guines off to Berhn. 294 even more perhaps than his reputation, which had crossed the Channel, won him extraordinary success. He was modestly enjoying his triumph when presently a lady entered the room whose hair was better dressed and her clothes better put on than was characteristic of most Englishwomen. Somewhat surprised, he inquired who she was, and learnt that she was a Pole, the Princess Czartoriska.-^ " Of middle height but perfect shape, with the most beautiful eyes, the most beautiful hair, the most beautiful teeth, a very pretty foot, very dark, much marked by the small-pox and devoid of colour, gentle in her manner and inimitably graceful in her slightest movements, Mme. Czartoriska was a proof that without being pretty a woman may be charm- ing." She had had a brilliant education, and was endowed with every advantage that nature and fortune can bestow. Lady Craven, of whom we must presently speak, knew her intimately, and lauded the charms of her mind. " I love," said she, " to spend hours with her alone. She excels in painting and music, she dances to admiration, and she has a fund of real knowledge which she draws upon without the slightest pretentiousness." Princess Czartoriska was extremely popular in English society. Lauzun at once begged to be pre- sented to the engaging foreigner, and found her 1 Isabelle Fortunee Czartoriska, daughter of Count Flemming (1743-1835). She married when very young Prince Adam Casimir Czartoriski (1731-1823), Starosta-General of Podolia. He was about to be seated on the throne of Poland, but renounced it in favour of his cousin, Stanislas Poniatowski. 295 even superior to her reputation. He inquired as to her life and her surroundings, and was informed that she had an avowed lover in Prince Repnine, formerly ambassador from Catherine II. to Warsaw. Repnine was a man of parts and distinction, who played an important role in the history of his country. His grandmother was a Calmuck, and the traces of his descent were visible in his features as well as in his temper. His countenance, though singular, was not altogether displeasing ; his manners and actions were dignified, and in company he showed much liveliness and wit. After fighting on the French side in the Seven Years' War, and living a great deal in Paris, whither he always came to spend the winter, in 1764 he set out for Poland by Catherine's orders, and helped Poniatowski to mount the throne, with the name of Stanislaus-Augustus. He then carefully fomented the divisions which rent that unhappy country, and really reigned instead of the King. One evening when he went to the play he arrived at the second act, and notwithstanding the King's presence, he had the insolence to order the piece to be played again from the beginning. A violent struggle soon began between Repnine and the Czartoriski family ; this lasted several years. Forty thousand Russians made their way into Poland and tyrannized cruelly over the people. But then it came about that Prince Repnine fell madly in love with Princess Czartoriska, a^d to please her went so far as to disobey the Empress's orders. He was dis- graced and obliged to leave the country. He adored 296 the Princess, lie had sacrificed everything for her, and followed her in her journeys across Europe, with- out any effect, it would seem, being produced on the mind of Prince Adam, her husband. Lauzun found Mme. Czartoriska delightful ; they often met, but though they had much in common, their relationship remained on the footing of friend- ship and mutual sympathy. He very frequently met her at Lady Craven's, where M. de Guines constantly took him. Lady Craven,^ whose notorious adventures formed a staple item of the chronique scandaleiise of the eighteenth century, was at this time still living with her husband. She had already a great reputation. "Without being precisely pretty,'* writes Mme. d'Oberkirch, " she was a fascinating and pleasing woman. Her dark chestnut hair was magnificent, her fine white skin was only a little freckled, and it reddened with the slightest pressure. She is a sweet person to live with, gay, agreeable, light-hearted, 1 Elizabeth, daughter of Augustus fourth Earl of Berkeley. In 1767, when scarcely seventeen years of age, she maiTied Lord Craven, afterwards Earl of Ci'aven. She had six children, and after an union of thirteen yeai^s, troubled by many storms, she separated from her husband and took to travelling in France, Germany, etc. One fine day she made her appearance at the Court of the Markgraf of Anspach, where Clairon, the celebrated actress, had for seventeen years reigned supreme. " Her rosy cheeks, her smile showing pearls, and her good humour, made Cleopatra's airs and serpents seem intolerable." When the actress saw that she had a rival, she broke out in imprecations, but Lady Craven only laughed, and amused the Prince so effectually that Clairon was forced to retire. In 1791 Lord Craven died, and Lady Craven married the Markgraf ; not long after he sold his principality to the King of Prussia, and withdrew with his wife to England. He died in 1806. She died at Naples in 1828. 29; without the least pedantry. Her intimacy is delight- ful." The liaison between Lady Craven and the Comte de Guines was known to all the town, for, far from taking the usual precautions, they made no secret of it, and every one knew how intimate they were. Lauzun, willing to give free course to his notions of diversion, let himself be led by M. de Guines to every resort of pleasure. They went together to Ranelagh, a fine hall built as a rotunda, and very lofty. In the centre was a sort of " high altar " surrounded by seats. There the national beverage (tea) was prepared with much ceremony, and every one came to drink it. All round the hall were boxes, and over these a gallery, from which the whole place could be surveyed ; the scene was delightful. From eight o'clock till midnight an immense crowd thronged Ranelagh, which was brightly illuminated. There was nothing to be done there, however, but to walk about, gossip, and drink tea. Men were allowed to talk with women, but they could not walk arm-in-arm unless they were husband and wife. The Ambassador also introduced Lauzun to Almack's, where all through the winter season sub- scription balls took place. The rooms were splen- did. They were opened at ten, but the gentlemen only came in at half-past eleven, after spending the evening at a club. The ladies meanwhile waited patiently, in full dress. At midnight a handsome supper was served. The winter season of 1773 was a very brilliant one 298 in London. There were several balls every night, and it was impossible to go to all. Lauzun, who was loaded with attentions and kindness by every- body, was literally over- driven ; he did not know which way to turn. One of the most successful entertainments was that given by Lord Stanley. At the top of the staircase, magnificently illuminated with lamps in coloured glasses, a band of musicians, in braided uniform, with hats and feathers, played the horn and clarionette ; in the ante-room stood a group of vestals in white robes ; they kept up the sacred fire intended for making tea by ; the inner rooms were decorated with hangings, sheaves of flowers, and red and green pilasters, and lighted by candles in gold vases. In the ball-room, a vast oval hall, the wall on one side had been removed to make a place for the musicians, wearing scarlet gowns. Large mirrors all round the room reflected the lights and the dancers ; the effect was dazzling. A ballet of the Seasons was danced by the Due de Lauzun, the Comte de Guines, and English ladies and gentlemen of rank, all wearing bewitching costumes as shepherds and shepherdesses. Splendid suppers were served in six rooms on the ground floor.^ The Ambassador himself gave frequent entertain- ments in his official residence, plays, balls, concerts, fancy dress balls. Once a week all the elite of the Court and of fashion assembled in his drawing-room ; Lady Craven, Princess Czartoriska and Lauzun helped him in doing the honours. 1 Walpole to Lady Ossory, April 30, 1773. 299 On the 26tli March he gave a fancy dress ball which made a sensation. The house was transformed into a vast garden, where the guests moved among arbours and under spreading shade. Two costumed quadrilles were extremely successful. For the first the dancers wore dresses of the date of Queen Elizabeth ; Princess Czartoriska, who figured in it, had a magnificent dress of blue satin with a lace ruif of the period. The men were all dressed alike, with red sashes, and black hats with feathers and diamond loops. The second quadrille was in the style of Henri IV. of France ; Lauzun danced in this, in a white dress with a black hat and white feathers. After dancing apart in sets, the two periods mingled, producing an elegant effect, which was greatly admired.^ The young Due de Lauzun, it will have been seen, met with the warmest and most flattering reception from the English, but the house he frequented by preference was that of Lady Craven, with whom he spent most of his evenings. He attempted several flirtations, but jealous fate seemed always to interfere maliciously ; as soon as hope dawned, some fatality raised a difficulty which dashed all his dreams. He consoled himself for such disappointments, to which indeed he was unaccustomed, by interesting himself in horses and racing. This sport, as yet almost unknown in France, was already a passion with the English, and Lauzun soon developed a strong taste for this new form of amusement. He 1 Walpole to Lady Ossory, March 27, 1773. 300 bought some horses and set up a racing stable at Newmarket to occupy his leisure. He had, however, met at Lady Craven's a certain Lady Harland, to whom he had been previously introduced in 1767. Lady Harland had two daughters, Fanny and Marianne, both very attractive ; but Marianne, the younger, small, and delicate, with fine hair and pretty eyes, was even more generally admired than her sister. Meeting the fair Marianne very often at Lady Craven's, Lauzun presently fell much in love with her, and she, very soon, with him ; the two young people were devoted to each other, and this all went on under the very eyes of the worthy Lady Harland, who as a watchful mother saw nothing of it all. The young man had at last found the change of ideas he had in vain been seeking since his arrival in England, and notwithstanding the perils of such an intimacy, he threw himself into it without pausing to think. This new passion offers no points of interest, and need not be dwelt on here ; one incident alone is worth quoting. Lady Harland, having at length opened her eyes to Lauzun's attentions, took her daughter into the country, to her place near Ipswich ; and to put an end to this girlish folly, she determined that Marianne should marry Sir Marmaduke Hewel (sic), a wealthy country gentleman, very stout, a great sportsman and a great drinker. Marianne at once writes to tell Lauzun of this untoward event ; but she is not at all woe-begone, 301 as might be expected, and she takes a tone of banter which throws much light on her character. " I have a lover now," she writes, " who is not so clumsy as to be married, as you are. Sir Marma- duke lays his fortune at my feet, and, which is not so pleasing, his enormous person. He is as big as one of those old arm-chairs in our room at Bristol ; he is excessively fat and excessively fair ; a pair of little swollen legs carry him with difficulty into my presence. This huge mass of flesh drinks a great deal of port wine, hunts foxes and keeps racers — ^just as you do. If he will live in London, I shall marry him. If I must live in the country, I am his humble servant, but remain faithful to you. I, young, pretty, crazy for all that is delightful, doomed to spend my life between my husband and some old parish rector, reduced, if I want to talk, to chat with the less drunk of the two ! Remember Marianne, and ask yourself if it is possible." Then she tells him that the Ipswich races are to be run before long, that Sir Marmaduke expects to win the gold cup, and she challenges her admirer to come and try for it. However, she ends her letter with this joretty and feeling sentence : " No, on second thoughts, do not come; you would be capable of kiUing this odious animal: wait at least till I am his wife." Lauzun did not wait to think even. He had good horses at Newmarket, and he sent one to run at Ipswich in his jockey's name. The horse, of course, won the gold cup, and the jockey, by his master's orders, laid the cup at the feet of the fair Marianne. After this gallant exploit Sir Marmaduke was rejected ; but the imprudent conduct of the two young people again led to difficulties with Lady Harland, and Marianne, tired of these annoying- scenes, dismissed Lauzun in the plainest and most positive terms. Lauzun, who had never regarded the affair but as a mere flirtation, did not suffer any violent grief at the rupture. He congratulated himself rather on having got off so cheaply, and looked about for fresh adventures. Fortune favoui^ed him. Lord Craven had suddenly discovered that his honour was seriously aggrieved by the French am- bassador's conduct to Lady Craven ; he had therefore removed his wife into the country, where he kept her shut up ; he also threatened M. de Guines withan action at law for heavy indemnity, intended as a salve for the injury he had suffered. M. de Guines, very uneasy at the prospect of a scandal, doubly con- spicuous as his position was a public one, did not know what steps to take, and saw his appointment already slipping through his fingers. His case was all the more critical because he was engaged in a law-suit with a man named Tort, who had been his secretary. Tort had taken advantage of his position to gamble in the funds, and he had also availed himself of the Ambassador's privileged letter- bags to smuggle in contraband articles ; then, on being discovered, he declared that he had acted on 303 M. de Guines' orders, and lodged a complaint against him. The result was a most vexatious scandal, and a law-suit. This odious business came to light in December, 1772, and the question had even been mooted of recalling M. de Guines to Paris, that he might justify himself. The Ambassador had been obliged to urge that he was engaged in important negotiations which were not yet concluded, that " he had invited all England to entertainments till the month of May, and that there would be an un- exampled scandal throughout Europe if he were suddenly recalled." There could be no doubt that if Lord Craven were to drag the Ambassador before an English tribunal, the unhappy diplomate, in the face of two such catastrophes, would be obliged voluntarily or by compulsion to resign his functions. All must depend on what Lady Craven might choose to tell ; but it was impossible to come to any agreement with her as to what she was to say, since she was not allowed to see any one. Lauzun and Princess Czartoriska did everything in the world to get M. de Guines out of the cruel predicament in which he stood. In defiance of a thousand obstacles, the Princess contrived to see her friend, and gave her the necessary instructions to enable her to save herself and her lover. This adventure threw the Princess and Lauzun very much together. They learned to appreciate the warm friendship and generosity that animated them both, and the result was mutual esteem and a 304 serious attacliment. Lauzun, indeed, whose vacant heart was cruelly conscious of a loneliness to which it was quite unaccustomed, fell passionately in love with the Princess. But just at this time Mme. Czartoriska, whose health was delicate and required constant care, was ordered by her physician to go abroad and take the waters at Spa. Before she left, M. de Guines gave a dinner in her honour in the then fashionable gardens of Vauxhall, at about a mile from Westminster Bridge ; these were the most elegant tea gardens in Europe ; the shrubberies were illuminated with thousands of little lamps, and during the summer, balls and concerts were given there, and dinners at enormous prices. Lauzun, who was one of the guests, had the annoy- ance of seeing the Ambassador overwhelmingly attentive to the Princess, and the pain of perceiving that she seemed to accept his civilities with a good' grace. He at once conceived a vehement dislike of M. de Guines. However, he had not an opportunity of indulging his jealousy for long ; the Princess went away quite suddenly — so suddenly that Lauzun had not time to avow his passion. He was reduced to confiding his feelings to her in a letter. If he had consulted only his wishes, he would have followed her immediately, but fearing to attract attention by such a rash proceeding, and to rouse, above all, Prince Repnine's jealousy, he resigned himself with great regret to staying in England some little time longer. But, in England or on the Continent, the 305 X unfortunate youth was always the sport of his own susceptible heart, and love -intrigues were the main- spring of all his actions. His family and friends, who knew nothing of the incidents of his life in London, were surprised at his prolonged stay, and could not imagine what detained him there : " What do you say to M. de Lauzun's sojourn in England ? " writes Mme. du DefFant to Mme. de Choiseul. ^' It seems to me incomprehensible." To fill up his leisure and cheat his dulness, Lauzun went to Portsmouth to see a fleet of thirty sail that had been brought together there for the King to review. M. de Guines, who had been desired to take leave of absence and return to France, accom- panied Lauzun in this excursion ; he was to make his bow to the King before leaving England. The English fleet was very fine, and the various naval manoeuvres made a deep impression on the spectators. " I have witnessed the grandest spec- tacle ever seen," wrote M. de Guines, June 24, 1773. " It is impossible to doubt that the English navy has never before, even at the times of its greatest superiority, approached the splendid and efficient state in which it is to-day." The King of England's demeanour towards his officers greatly struck Lauzun. Nowhere was there a Court where etiquette placed so wide a gulf between the Sovereign and his subjects, and yet George III. had a captain, who was unable to walk in consequence of old wounds, brought on board his ship. He made him sit, stood himself all the time 306 of their interview, and invited him to dine at his table. The King showed much kindness to Lauzun and the Ambassador ; he kept them to dinner, and gave orders that they should be placed where they could see everything that might interest them. The review being over, Lauzun returned to London. It was now July, and the Princess had been gone some weeks. Lauzun thought that he had sacrificed enough to the proprieties, and deter- mined to go in pursuit of the lady of his adoration, whom absence had made still dearer. The Comte de Guines also left for Compiegne at the end of July. Princess Czartoriska was settled at Spa with her children and Prince Repnine. Let us see what this famous watering place was like at that period. Many mineral springs had begun to attract the sick and suffering as early as in the seventeenth century. Cauterets, Bareges, Pougues, Vichy,^ Plombieres, Forges and others could show illustrious visitors ; from every part the sick came to seek 1 In 1670 Mme. de Sevigne wrote to her daughter from Vichy : " I drank the waters this morning, my very dear one. Ah ! how vile they are ! You go to the spring at six o'clock ; everybody is there. You drink, make a very wry face, for imagine, they are boiling, and have a frightful taste of saltpetre. You turn about, you go and come, you take a walk, and attend Mass, and you confidentially discuss the waters and their effects, and talk of nothing else till noon. Then you dine, and after that some one receives. Some- times the country damsels come and dance a hourree to a flute. They cut capers to which the cures take some exception ; however, at five you take a drive in the lovely country ; at seven, a light supper, at ten, to bed. And now you know as much about it as I do." 307 X 2 health at the healing waters. But travelling was slow and costly, and only invalids thought the journey worth making. Hence life at " the waters " was usually very dull. At Spa it was not so ; pleasure was the order of the day, and the sick were the exception. Spa was the fashionable watering place in the eighteenth century.^ It was thronged with visitors from every part of the world, and every class of society was represented there. Nothing can paint more vividly the aspect of this cosmopolitan little town, its strangely mixed society, and the confusion of classes, than this lively description by the Prince de Ligne : "I go into a large hall where I find maimed creatures displaying fine arms, and cripples making a leg ; the most ridiculous names, titles, and faces ; hypochondriacal my lords gloomily walking to and fro ; Paris hussies who come with shouts of laughter ; young men of every race believing and making themselves English, talking between their teeth and dressed like grooms ; French bishops with their nieces; a doctor wearing the order of Saint Michael; a dentist with the Order of the Spur; dancing-masters, singing-masters, wearing the uni- form of the Russian army ; thirty self-dubbed Knights of Malta ; ribands of every hue, decora- tions of every shape ; fifty Knights of Saint-Louis ; ^ " L'on commence a s'y rendre au retour du printemps. On s'y rend des climats ou se leve I'aurore, De ceux ou le soleil se couclie a nos regards, Des bords de la Neva, des rives dn Bosphore, Et du Nil et du Tibre, enfin de toutes parts." 308 old duchesses coming in from a drive with a tall stick a la Vendome, and three inches thick of rouge and pearl-powder ; horrible, suspicious faces behind a mountain of ducats, clutching every piece that you lay down, trembling as you do it, on the broad green cloth ; ^ one or two Electors dressed like huntsmen ; some few princes, incognito, who whould cause no more sensation under their real names; some old generals and officers pensioned for wounds they never received ; some Russian princesses with their physicians, and Princesses Palatine or Castellane with youthful chaplains ; escaped prisoners from every prison in Europe ; charlatans of every degree ; adventurers of every kind ; abb^s of every nation- ality ; a score of invalids who dance like lunatics — for their health ; forty lovers, or who seem to be lovers, perspiring and excited ; sixty young persons devoted to waltzing — more or less beautiful and innocent, with more or less manner and coquetry, modesty and insinuation. "The noise, the loud hum of conversation, the racket of the music, the intoxicating monotony of the waltzing, the to and fro of idlers, the blasphemies of the gamblers, the sobs of the women who lose, and exhaustion from this magic lantern scene, drove me out of the room. 1 One day, at Spa, Jean du Barry held the bank, and was watching very closely to avoid being robbed; he seemed to be suspicious of the Electress Dowager of Saxony, who was one of the players. The Princess expressed her astonishment : " A thousand pardons, Madame," said the Comte, " I could not possibly suspect you. You royal personages never cheat for anything but crowns." 309 " That instant I find myself knocked down by an English race ; over a bad pavement I pick myself up to avoid another overthrow from a score of rascals, fine gentlemen and others, who come down at a gallop on the little horses known here as escalins. So I sit down and observe some water- drinkers religiously counting their glasses and their steps. ..." This amusing invective shows us what life must have been at Spa in 1773. This little town was a very exact prototype of what the most fashionable and favourite watering place of our day may be. The Bishop of Liege was the lord of this little territory ; but he was too small a princeling to impress the illustrious company of Spa with much respect, and the world behaved there rather as if they were in a conquered province. A hundred or so veterans in his pay were not of sufficient weight to enforce respect for the laws and customs of the country.^ Lauzun arrived at Spa, July 24, 1773, and put up at the Fille de Borne, No. 3, Rue de la Sauveniere. He met there many of his Paris friends and the flower of European aristocracy : the Due de Chartres, who had come from Charleville, where he had been reviewing his regiment, and was going on to Beloeil 1 The Prince Bishop himself was not indeed supposed to be the model of all the virtues, and he took life pleasantly enough. The Prince de Ligne, who loved a jest, going to Liege one day, passed himself off as a Cardinal sent by the Pope to admonish the Prince Bishop on the irregularity of his conduct. " The Bishop nearly died of fright, and of the scandal, which was mentioned in the public prints." 310 to join the Prince de Ligne ; the Comte de Stainville, the Due de la Tremo'ille, the Marquis FitzJames, the Chevalier de Coigny, the Baron de Gleichen, Boufflers, the Prince of Saxe-Gotha, the beautiful Lady Georgina Spencer,^ the Due d'Arenberg, the Prince de Chimay, and others. But Lauzun cared little for this brilliant society ; all he asked was to find the Princess, and his first care was to lay his devotion and service at her feet. Mme. Czartoriska received him coolly, and treated him at first with distant reserve. The young man, deeply disappointed, would not allow her to suspect how keenly he felt this, . and sought some diversion in the mixed society about him. The only difficulty was to choose ; a variety of pleasures was not lacking. Every day there were routs, assemblies, rides, drives, and luncheons in the country with fair damsels of various degree. Lauzun had brought his horses with him, and used them a great deal. Races were got up like English races, and he several times carried off a prize. The Princess affected to know nothing of her adorer's stormy existence, and in spite of the lack of sympathy between them, and Lauzun' s bitterness over his discomfiture, they con- stantly met, and his passion for the beautiful foreigner as constantly increased. He had occasion one day to give proof of it. Among the visitors to Spa at that time was a Polish 1 Afterwards Ducliess of Devonsliire. She was extremely beautiful, and her charming character fascinated all who knew her. 3" nobleman, Branicki, who having vainly offered his worship to Mme. Czartoriska, now really hated her. Having allowed himself to speak of the Princess in a highly unbecoming manner before a party of which Lauzun was one, he saw the Due indignantly under- take the defence of the absent lady, and assume to be her champion. Branicki was a brave man, and the quarrel would undoubtedly have ended in a duel if Lady Georgina Spencer had not interfered to make peace ; the two adversaries could not resist her lovely eyes, and a reconciliation was effected which certainly did not exist in their hearts. Mme. Czartoriska, having heard of Lauzun' s behaviour, was deeply touched by it. Meanwhile the season was drawing to a close ; visitors were beginning to depart, and the Princess was preparing to take the road to Paris, escorted by Repnine. The Prince had seen nothing in Lauzun's demeanour to give him umbrage, and at the moment of starting he proposed to Lauzun that he should join them. The offer was accepted. They went first to Brussels. There Repnine heard of a collection of pictures in Holland, which he wished to buy, and proposed that they should go in search of them. Our travellers set out for Antwerp, and thence went to Holland, staying in turn at Rotterdam, Amsterdam, and the Hague. It is not surprising that before long Lauzun took an opportunity of declaring his passion in burning words. Nor was the lady discouraging, so far that she owned herself not insensible to his devotion; but she declared that she would never 312 indulge her sincere affection for liim. She gave him her reasons at great length. After speaking of her life in Poland, her liaison with Repnine and the sacrifices he had made for her, she added : " The woman who has changed once may change twice, and do you suppose that she who could ruthlessly abandon Prince Repnine would spare you in your turn ? " She spoke of the disasters which would re- sult, and the remorse she would feel in deceiving the man who had no one in the world but herself. Lauzun, always chivalrous, was much touched ; he promised to leave, and only craved to be allowed to see the Princess for a few days longer before they should part for ever. This was agreed to, and the journey ended without further incident. Repnine, still blind to all this, retm-ned with his companions to Brussels, and from thence to Paris. At Senlis, Lauzun, faithful to his promise, parted from the travellers, and while they went on to the capital he went to Hautefontaine, to find consolation and solitude among his friends. It was nearly a year since he had left the place, it may be remembered in what a dejected frame of mind. He returned after his long stay in England and at Spa, cured, indeed, of his old wound, but suffering more than ever from the new passion that tightened round his heart. 313 CHAPTER XXIV. QuaiTel with Prince Repnine — The Prince's departure— Mme. Czartoriska — The King is reconciled to the Princes — The winter of 1773 — Mme. de Forcalquier — Marriage of the Comte d'Artois — Death of M. de Chauvelin — The Princess Czarto- riska leaves for Poland — Lauzun accompanies her — His return to France — Death of Louis XV. The next day, Lauzun, as incapable of keeping his promise as he was of mastering his impatience, set out for Paris and took up his abode at the hotel de Chartres, where the Princess was also staying. That very evening a tender note and a lock of hair proved to him that he was not only forgiven but expected. Lauzun details at great length the agitations and pangs of his first interview with Mme. Czartoriska, in which he magnanimously declared that a look from her would console and satisfy him. But this generous declaration was unluckily in- terrupted by the entrance of Repnine, who easily perceived the embarrassment which his arrival had produced in them. He concealed his jealousy to spare the Princess a scene, for he was passionately attached to her, and dreaded anything that might agitate her. But he was under no mistake as to the situation, and resolved to defend the one thing left 314 him in the world, the only object with which his happiness was bound up. He went to Lauzun, and frankly told him the history of his life, and of his passion for the Princess, for whom he had sacrificed everything, and without whom he could not live. He ended by saying, " One of us must die," and offered his rival a duel to put an end to this inex- tricable difficulty. " You have a right to hate me," replied Lauzun, " and I deserve your hatred. Still, my heart is not unworthy of you, nor of the homage it pays to the Princess. I have long struggled against this un- reasonable passion, which can lead to nothing but remorse ; I feel for you, I esteem you, and I hate you. I could not endure that the Princess should be able to accuse me of attacking the life of one to whom she owes so much gratitude. I will go.'' When he spoke Lauzun was perfectly sincere ; he believed himself ready to endure any misfortune rather than bring anxiety and remorse on the woman he loved. But he had counted rashly on his strength ; he had not the fortitude to keep his word. When the month of November had come he was obliged to leave for Fontainebleau, where he was required to take his turn on duty. He was still in the regiment of the French Guards, and his service would last a week. Before going he came to bid her good-bye. The parting was a tender one, and he left the Princess in tears. On calling again the next day he found her dying ; she had just swallowed half a phial of some liquid containing poison. The bottle was still on the chimney-piece. Lauzun made haste to finish it, and was carried home senseless. Very happily for the desperate lovers, whose scruples it has been seen were equal to their passion, they had taken much too strong a dose ; the poison simply made them violently ill. When they were restored to life they took a less black view of their misconduct, and even found in it a motive for a new pleasure in existence. Lauzun, in his Memoirs, gives an interminably long account of this adventure and the moral tor- tures he went through. To confess a passion and its grief so ingenuously, a man must be very candid, and set no high price on his self-esteem. Lauzun has frequently been compared to Richelieu. There is no resemblance between them. Richelieu was a favour- ite with women {homme a bonnes fortunes), but he never loved ; Lauzun, on the contrary, was always sincere and romantic ; his adventures were not mere caprice, mere flirtations — ^assades, to use the ex- pressive word of the time— but genuine, though no doubt brief, attachments. The sentiment was always sincere, if it were but for a moment, and in this he differed from his contemporaries. In all Richelieu's career there is no such romance as this of Lauzun and Mme. Czartoriska. Lauzun was still suflfering from this moral and physical crisis when he was obliged to start for Fontainebleau, where the Court was staying. As soon as his duty allowed, he returned to Paris. At first he and the Princess conducted themselves with 316 great circumspection, but they could not deceive Repnine. The Prince was torn by two opposite feel- ings ; on one hand he was consumed by frightful jealousy, which urged him to extreme measures ; on the other he saw how delicate the Princess's health was, and his affection for her was so great as to withhold him from any violent or painful scene. Still he could not conceal his suffering. The situation soon became intolerable, and Repnine showed the utmost generosity and magnanimity. He indulged in no complaints or recriminations under the blow which wrecked his life. " Be happy," he said to the Princess, " but I have not enough courage to look on at your happiness. I shall return to Russia. One day, perhaps, you will understand better how well I have loved you, and will return to him who will adore you till his last hour." Lauzun was touched by this dignified conduct, and, not to embitter Repnine's last days in Paris, he had the delicacy to retire. He went to visit his uncle at Chanteloup. Repnine kept his word, obtained from the Empress an important command in the army against the Turks, and covered himself with glory in that campaign. We shall meet him again in Poland. As soon as the Princess sent him word that Repnine was gone, Lauzun hastened back to Paris. He could not, however, escape his duties at Court : the Comte d'Artois was about to be married, and Lauzun had unavoidable functions to fulfil. Still, whenever he was free, he returned to the feet of his 317 Princess, and these few months of devotion and mad passion were perhaps the happiest in his whole life. But we must leave them to their raptures, and glance at the events which had happened at Court since Lauzun had quitted France, above a year since. After a long misunderstanding with the King, the Princes of the blood had in the end submitted. They had fancied that in putting themselves at the head of the opposition they were playing an important part ; they were cruelly undeceived. '' These great Princes," wrote Mme. du DefFant in January, 1773, " have become mere citizens, bourgeois of the Rue Saint-Denis. Their absence is not felt at Court, nor their presence in the town." Two years of banishment and sulks had fully convinced them that they could find no issue but in a reconciliation with the King. On the other hand, Maupeou had not been hard upon them; he had, in fact, taken the first steps. Thanks to his diplomacy, one after another they had all been won over. To the Prince de Conde he suggested that a marriage would be possible between Mademoiselle and the Comte d'Ar- tois ; and he promised the blue riband of the Order of the Holy Ghost to the Prince de Bourbon, his son. After the house of Conde had written letters of submission, the house of Bourbon was induced to follow suit. The Due d'Orl^ans was allowed to hope that the King would sanction his marriage with Mme. de Montesson, and the Prince consented to 318 reappear at Court with his son, the Due de Chartres. These surrenders from self-interest produced a bad effect on the public : "I may say in your ear," wrote Mme. du Deffant indignantly, " that I think nothing at all of any Prince ; that their protests, their retrac- tations, their recrimination, their contradiction to me seem mere waste of breath (bouillie pour les chats)" Of all the Princes, the Prince de Conti was the one who was obstinate in his rebellion, and refused any act of submission. " My cousin the attorney is not yet tired of wrangling," said Louis XV. All these quarrels and internal dissensions made no difference in the festivities at Court. The carnival of 1773 was exceptionally brilliant ; there were a great many balls, particularly those given by the Comtesse de Noailles to the Dauphiness, and by the Duchesse d'Aiguillon at her house at Versailles. The opera-balls were equally crowded. Marie- Antoinette, always eager for new amusements and pleasures, expressed a wish to go to one of these balls, of which she had heard so much. The King at first refused, but she pressed it so insistently that at last she obtained the desired permission. She went in the strictest incognito, accompanied by her hus- band and the Comte and Comtesse de Provence. The royal party passed three hours at the ball, and got back to Versailles at seven in the morning, just in time to attend Mass in the royal chapel. The solemn entry of the Dauphiness into Paris had been constantly postponed ; it took place on June 8, 3^9 and gave rise in her mind to the most naive reflec- tions : " What touched me most," she wrote to her mother, " was the tenderness and eagerness of the poor people, who, in spite of the taxes by which they are crushed, were transported with joy at the sight of us." Before retiring, she and the Dauphin waved their hands to the crowd, who immediately broke out in acclamations. " How happy are we in our rank to win the affection of a whole nation at so little cost ! " she exclaims. '' And yet there is nothing so precious ; I shall never forget it." The same gay and dissipated life was carried on during the summer journeys ; there was some new amusement every day. While living at Compiegne the Dauphiness went out every evening with her husband, her brother-in-law and his wife. They would leave the chateau, incognito, about eleven o'clock, and walk on the strand by the river till one in the morning. This promenade immediately became the fashion ; shops were set up there, brightly lighted up and giving the place the aspect of a fair, gondolas appeared on the river. Meanwhile a band played delightfully in the King's private stable-yard. As we read the description of all these rural pleasures we fancy it is an idyl ; we could imagine that the Court had returned to pastoral innocence. Nothing of the kind ; hatred and rivalry reign supreme ; " folks are ready to eat other s eyes out." ^ Mme. du Barry was still the object of the most violent attacks, but she held her own with energy. 1 On se mange le hlanc et lejaune des yeux. 320 The question of her intimate circle was still one of those which most vehemently agitated the Court. Every new recruit, every lady who joined it, raised storms of wrath among the irreconcilables, among those who remained unshaken in their contemptuous aversion. Early in 1773 it was reported that Mme. de Forcalquier had allowed herself to be taken to Choisy by the Duchesse d'Aiguillon. Indignation broke out at once, and maledictions were poured out on Mme. de Forcalquier : " She has nothing in her soul, it is even doubtful if she has a soul," wrote Mme. du Deffant, outraged. '' She has a handsome face and that is all." But she had been scarcely more indulgent when writing of her some years previously: "She is a good sort of woman, but stupid, puzzle-headed, confused, full of absurdities which she takes to be thoughts. It is said of people who are too vivacious that they have been baked in too hot an oven ; of her one might say the contrary ; she has not been baked enough ; she is the sketch of a fine work, but it was left unfinished." Indignation waxed fierce when it was known that Mme. de Forcalquier had joined a supper party at the favourite's, with Mmes. d'Aiguillon, de Mazarin, de I'Hopital, d'HarviUe, and de Crene. Mme. du DefFant communicates this disastrous news, and she adds scornfully : " But Mme. de Forcalquier has not pledged herself to go all the journeys, and she is not to be an every- day woman." In May, 1773, the marriage was announced of the 321 T Comte d'Artois to the Comtesse de Provence's sister. The formation of the Prince's household gave rise to quarrels and tempests without end. After the Due de la Vauguyon's death, Madame Adelaide had asserted herself as guardian of the Comte d'Artois' education; she counted on disposing of the offices to be dispensed when the young Prince should have a household, and she had already promised them all. But Mme. du Barry did not see matters in this light ; in the first place, she insisted that the office of lady-in-waiting to the Comtesse d'Artois should be given to her new friend, Mme. de Forcalquier,^ and she won the day, in spite of Mme. Adelaide's rage and recriminations. The Queen, the Dauphiness, and the princesses of the royal family each had a lady-in-waiting, and a lady of the bedchamber {dame d^atours). These were always titrees, that is to say, they had the honneurs du Louvre,^ The other ladies in attend- ance were called ladies of honour {dames de compagnie). The Princesses of the blood, not 1 Mme. de Forcalquier did not long hold the place she owed to Mme. dn Barry's good offices. In the month of June, 1774, she had a little misadventure which led to her resigning it. She was on duty and was waiting at table. When the lady in attendance offered the Prince water after dinner to rinse his mouth, it was customary for him to rise. The Comte d'Artois did not stir from his seat, but signed to Mme. de Forcalquier to come to him. She said aloud : " I was waiting for your Royal Highness to rise." The Prince, much nettled, took the water, but instead of returning it to the bowl, he ejected it over the arms and dress of the lady, and she refused ever to reappear at Court. 2 The honneurs were the right of entree through the King's courtyard, and at all hours. 322 daughters of a king, had no lady of the bed- chamber. So it was Mme. de Forcalquier, as lady-in-waiting, who went as far as the frontier to meet the Princess, and who brought her back to Versailles. The Comtesse d'Artois was no beauty, far from it ; an enormous nose and a minute person disfigured her completely. However, she had a fresh complexion, pretty hands and fine arms. The marriage took place in November, and was the occasion of magnificent festivities. The King gave a banquet to which none were invited but the royal family and the Princes of the blood. Mme. du Barry, however, sat down ^vith them, and the King never took his eyes off her. She had jewels on to the value of more than seven millions of francs, and the dazzled chronicler adds that she was " as radiant as the sun." A decoration arranged for the royal table excited the greatest admiration. It represented to the life a river, which was kept running all through the meal, and to add to the illusion, little boats, elegantly dressed with flags, floated in every direction. On the day of the wedding the King played lans- quenet with the Princes and his friends ; and, just as on the occasion of the Comte de Provence's marriage, thieves in rich attire got in with the crowd and carried off watches, snufi-boxes and purses of gold. Then there was a magnificent Court ball, where Mme. de Lauzun again played a conspicuous part. She had not wished to appear at any of these festivities, 323 Y 2 and had announced her intention of going to Chanteloup, to have an excuse ; but M. de Gontaut opposed her wishes and insisted on her presence at Court. She danced the eighth minuet with M. de Lusignan, not titre. Again she figured in the second quadrille, with M. de Havray, titre, for her vis- a-vis. And she appeared again in the fourth quadrille with the Prince of Nassau, not titre. It was she who in everybody's opinion carried off the prize for grace, dress and dancing. The Vicomtesse du Barry took that for beauty and a fine figure. The Due de Lauzun's love affairs, absorbing as they might be, never prevented the fulfilment of his duties as a courtier ; he now and then played truant from his idyl to accompany his wife to these enter- tainments, and take the part which his rank and office made incumbent on him. The festivities in honour of the Comte d'Artois' marriage ended with a tragical incident. On November 23, the King was supping in Mme. du Barry's private apartments with their intimate circle. After supper they were playing cards. The Marquis de Chauvelin, standing behind Mme. de Mirepoix' chair, was jesting with the lady, when he suddenly gave a cry and fell dead. He was only fifty-five years old. This unexpected death of a man v/hom he loved and had been intimate with for several years, made a deep impression on Louis XV., and depressed his spirits for many days. A saying of his has, however, been recorded, which would seem cruel if it were not in fact the outcome of an absent 324 mind, and an involuntary association of ideas. A short time after, when the King was driving to Choisy, his coach suddenly stopped ; one of the horses had dropped down dead. The accident was explained to the King, who heedlessly exclaimed : " How odd ! Just like poor Chauvelin ! " M. de Chauvelin was an amiable man who had none but friends, and he was very sincerely regretted. When the sad news reached Chanteloup M. de Choiseul was so alarmingly shocked that for a minute all his party were uneasy about him. " He is still in bitter grief," writes Mme. de Choiseul. " He had always loved him ; he had made him, and since our exile he had proved his fidelity, his delicate feeling, and even his courage and gratitude." The Prince de Conti was equally inconsolable for M. de Chauvelin s death ; he too had contributed to his fortunes ; " And you know,'^ Mme. du DeiFant subtly observes, " that those we have been kind to are those we love best." M. de Chauvelin' s intimacy with the Prince de Conti and the Due de Choiseul, two of the King's enemies, and their regret at his death, prove the nobleness of his character better than many words. The Due de Gontaut and Lauzun were not less affected than M. de Choiseul by M. de Chauvelin's sudden death. The father had lived on terms of close intimacy Avith him for many years, and the son could not forget that under him, in Corsica, he had first been under arms. The taste for retirement and seclusion which had 325 possessed Lauzun ever since his passion for Mme. Czartoriska had absorbed him wholly, was thwarted not only by Court ceremonies ; family duties also tore him from his quiet life. The Duchesse de Gramont, who, as it may be re- membered, had first set his youthful heart beating, came from Chanteloup to spend some weeks in Paris. Lauzun could not escape paying his respects to her, and accepting invitations to suppers given in her honour by Mme. de Lauzun or the Marechale de Luxem- bourg. Mme. de Gramont had an amazing success ; she was hardly awake in the morning when her room was filled with princes, fine gentlemen of rank and great ladies. " No king's mistress," says Mme. du Defiant, " no prime minister, no sovereign, no poten- tate can enjoy greater celebrity." Nothing could be in better style than to visit her, or entertain her at supper with twenty-five or thirty other guests. At this time, Lauzun, anxious to play a more conspicuous part, purchased from his friend the Comte de Coigny, for the sum of a hundred and fifty thousand livres (£6000), the rank of Colonel of the Eoyal Legion, which was in garrison at Mouzon. The money transaction was arranged by secret agreement ; officially, the Comte resigned in favour of Lauzun. But the new Colonel was too much occu- pied in Paris to be able to leave, and he put ofi" the visit due to his regiment till a more favourable moment. As has been seen by our narrative up to this point, Prince Adam Czartoriski played a very 326 insignificant part in his domestic circle, or at any rate he accepted the large tolerance and philosophy which were the fashion at that time among men of his social position. He had come some time since to join his wife in Paris, and not only had his suspicions not been roused, but he had even made great friends with Lauzun. Important affairs, however, soon re- called him to Poland, and his departure was decided on, with all his family. The grief and despair which this announcement produced in his wife and in Lauzun may be imagined. But at this juncture Prince Adam was indicted in Paris before the Consular Tribunal of Commerce by one Count Mostowski, Palatine of Moravia, who claimed from him a sum of two hundred thousand crowns. The Prince himself in fact owed him nothing, but he had stood security for his father-in- law. Count Mostowski proposed to his debtor that he should select arbitrators, but as he received only pro- crastinating answers, he decided on summoning him before the Chatelet. The Prince did not obey the summons, and was condemned to pay 270,000 livres in money down and give security for 68,932 livres of interest. The sentence, according to custom, was to be carried out at once, with imprisonment in default of payment. On March 30, the Prince was arrested in his house by a police agent, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he was preserved from being carried oiF to prison then and there. The Princess, greatly agitated, sent for Lauzun, and they both took the 327 most active steps to protect the Prince's liberty. Happily, M. Grand, the Czartoriskis' banker, con- sented to advance the money and place it in the hands of a lawyer till the lawsuit should be decided. Not till then was the Prince set free. He at once appealed to the parlement to reclaim his money, and get justice for the gross behaviour of which he had been the victim. But his disasters were not ended. Not only was the return of the deposit refused, but the original cause of the suit was called up for trial. He then wrote to the Minister, M. Bertin, this indignant protest : — "April 20, 1774. " Monsieur, it is painful to me to be obliged to take up any part of your valuable time by importuning you on a matter, as little fit for you to be troubled with hearing of, as, for me, are the annoyances it causes me. To all the injustice I have suffered from the Chatelet, the Civil Lieutenant has now added another, which aggravates the rest ; instead of order- ing the restoration of my surety-moneys now in the hands of a notary, after the insult offered to my person in consequence of a hasty sentence, to-day, by a new decree, it insists on inquiring into the original grievance, which is evidently not within the jurisdic- tion of a French court. To you, as the protector of foreigners by your office, and by your birth fitted to show them the consideration that is their due, I con- fidently turn ; you have allowed me to believe in your kindness, and I request you to put a stop to a 328 prosecution equally unjust in its original motive, and humiliating from the contemptible character of him who has instituted it and of those whom he employs. "Adam Peince Czaetoriski." M. Bertin replied that he could not interfere with the course of justice. The Prince was, of course, compelled to prolong his stay in Paris to watch his case, and also because, by his opponent's request, he was refused a passport ; so as the business which required his presence at Warsaw was urgent, he begged his wife to set out at once and go to guard their interests. He obtained her passport on April 8, and on the 9th she left Paris. . Lauzun took advantage of this providential incident to get leave of absence, and he secretly accompanied Mme. Czartoriska to Poland. The road seemed to him so short that they were within two leagues of Warsaw before he perceived how far they had come, and that they now must part. Lauzun s agitation on leaving the Princess was so great that he fainted away. When he came to his senses she was gone. A terrible dejection and prostration followed, and he was scarcely more con- scious of his journey back than he had been of his way thither. On arriving at Frankfort Lauzun first heard of the illness of the King of France. He at once hastened on, hurrying his journey in the hope of being at Versailles in time for the great events which were 329 impending there ; but as he passed through Deux- Ponts (Zwei-Briicken), in the Vosges, the news was brought to him that the King was dead, and at the same time he learned from private letters all the circumstances of the monarch's decease. On Holy Thursday, the Abbot of Beauvais, preach- ing a Lent sermon at Versailles, had chosen this ominous text, " Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be destroyed." The king had applied the words to himself, and had been greatly terrified. On April 28 he was taken ill, in the course of one of the journeys of two or three days by which he tried to fill up his useless life and drive away lassitude and dulness. At the news of this sudden indisposition all the Court was in a commotion. Mme. du Barry and her partisans, who had everything to fear from any change, lived in the keenest anxiety. Memories of Metz, and of the scenes which had led to the dismissal of Mme. de Chateauroux, haunted all minds. On Friday, the 30th, the malady was evidently small-pox. For a few days there was no cause for uneasiness ; the remedies had the desired effect and the disease ran a regular course. Mesdames attended on the King, and in spite of every repre- sentation as to the danger of infection, they refused to leave him. They had closed every door of ingress, so that no one could go near him without their consent. The King was almost always dozing ; on the 4th of May, however, he asked for Mme. du Barry, and had a short conversation with her. He was never to see her again. 330 But the hoped-for improvement did not continue ; far from it ; the disease took a malignant form. Versailles presented a strange spectacle. Two parties were at daggers drawn over the body of the dying King. The party of the Jesuits and the devout were averse to giving the King the Communion, because that would be to warn him of his state ; Mme. du Barry would consequently be banished, and ifc would be harder to snatch their power back than simply to keep it. The Choiseul faction, the philosophers and infidels, on the other hand, loudly insisted on the sacred ceremony, for opposite reasons, and tried to urge it on the Archbishop of Paris. " You would not believe all the cabals, the indecent and disgraceful intrigues which are going on here, and which are truly horrible," wrote Comte Xavier de Saxe to his sister. " If it were not for my attachment, I venture to say my love for this good and worthy King, which keeps me here, I would gladly be far away, so as to see and hear nothing. The Archbishop is here now, for the second time since the evening before last, and there is an in- credible swarm of priests. Up till now the King has not yet confessed." The interview between the King and Mme. du Barry had alarmed the Royal Family, and that same evening the favourite was informed that she must go ; she immediately obeyed, and went to Ruel with the Duchesse d Aiguillon, there to await events. Her attitude was extremely dignified : " I was at Ruel yesterday," Comte Xavier de Saxe writes again 331 on May 6. "I confess I have always esteemed Mme. du Barry, but at this moment I venerate and adore her for her sentiments towards our beloved master, and her small care and disinterestedness as regards her own existence." Du Barry the Eoue did not imitate the example of the woman whose fortune he had made. He was wandering aimlessly about the corridors of the chateau, his head full, no doubt, of gloomy reflec- tions, when he came across the Prince de Ligne. " Well," said the Prince, " the farce is played out. You can go." — " And why should I go ? " asked du Barry insolently, with his queer Gascon accent. ^' If they make me angry, I will turn the kingdom into a republic." Cheverny, who lived at Versailles, has left a short and impressive description of this swift death. " What a sad thing to be a dying King ! I went to Versailles on the 5th ; the infection was every- where, even to the Oeil de Boeiif, I was content to ask for La Borde, the head valet on duty, the friend of my childhood. The King, amid his four cur- tains, given over to the doctors, thought only of his illness. As silent in sickness as in health he was talkative, he only spoke to ask for what he needed. La Borde was the only person he trusted, by reason of his fidelity and his attachment to Mme. du Barry. La Borde told me that the King had called him that morning in a firm voice, had made him come close and looked to see if they were alone, and had then said, * And Mme. du Barry, where is she ? ' La 332 Borde replied without hesitation, * Sir, she left this morning.' That the King said : ' What ! Already ? * And La Borde could see that two large tears fell from his eyes. Then he huddled himself up in bed and did not open his mouth again.'* Versailles was indeed a revolting scene. The young Vicomte de Segur, hearing that the King was dying, hurried thither quite upset, and, with the illusions of youth, expected to find the Court in tears. " What was my surprise," he writes, " when I ever3rwhere found that indifference pre- vailed, or even a degree of gladness — in the palace, in the town, in the gardens. The sinking sun was forgotten, every worshipper turned towards the rising sun. No one thought of anything but the future ; old courtiers were only anxious to preserve their credit under the new reign, and young ones to supplant the old." In spite of his kindliness, the King was little regretted; everyone wished only that the end might come as soon as possible. The sick man's state becoming more and more criti- cal, the anti-clerical party gained the day. On May 7, at seven in the morning, the King received the viati- cum at the hands of Cardinal de la Roche-Aymon. The Due d' Orleans and the Prince de Conde, who had sat up with the King, held the Coinmunion nap- kin ; no other prince would come into the room for fear of the contagion. As the King had not strength to speak, the Cardinal spoke a few edifying words as to the scandal he might have caused. On the 8th there was a marked improvement ; a 333 long line of carriages was at once seen taking the road to Ruel ; prudent folks went to pay their respects to Mme. du Barry. But in the evening the improvement was not maintained. On the 9th extreme unction was administered, at nine in the evening ; on the 10th, at a quarter past three in the afternoon, Louis XV. breathed his last. There was an immediate and general flight ; all the Court rushed away from Versailles. Louis XVL, his two brothers, the Queen and the princesses, set out at once for Choisy, where they occupied the larger chateau ; Mesdames, who had devoted them- selves to the care of the late King, took up their abode in the smaller chateau. No one was left at Versailles but the Due d'Ayen, who had inherited his father's appointment as Captain of the Scotch Guard, whose duty it was to watch round the dead King ; the Due d'Aumont, first gentleman of the bedchamber, the High Almoner, and M. de Dreux, the master of the ceremonies. The King having died of an infectious disease, all the formalities of etiquette were pretermitted. The Due de Villequier, first gentleman-in-waiting, desired the chief surgeon, Andouille, to open and embalm the body ; it was almost certain death to the operator : " I am ready," said Andouille, " but while I do it you must hold the head ; it is one of the duties of your office." The Due did not insist. The body was hastily enclosed in two leaden coffins which scarcely disguised its corruption. Two days later, in the evening, the deceased 334 monarch was earned to Saint-Denis to be laid by his ancestors in the vault of the French Kings ; but the funeral procession suggested the conveyance of a troublesome burthen to be got rid of as quickly as possible, rather than the last honours paid to the sovereign of a great kingdom. The coffin was placed in a huge carriage, and they started at eight in the evening ; the whole escort consisted of a score or so of pages, and fifty horse-guards carrying torches. No one was in mourning. " Make haste," said the men. " This is our last ride out for him ; we shall not go hunting so often now." At Versailles the people thronged the road to the chateau ; in the courtyard they stood in silence as the procession went past, but in the avenues unseemly joy broke out indecently ; the funeral party were hailed with repeated cries of " Tally ho ! tally ho ! " and it was only by going off at a quick trot that they ffot out of hearinor of the abuse shouted after them. They reached Saint-Denis, still at a gallop, at eleven o'clock at night. There the outrageous scenes of Versailles were repeated. The taverns were full of drunken men singing at the top of their voices. The crowd that lined the road shouted insulting taunts. " Here comes the ladies' charmer, the ladies' charmer ! " they sang as the coffin came by. The guards' torches were out, so a candle was fetched from a shop near the church to light up the dismal scene, and get the King's coffin out of the vehicle. A brief requiem was sung, and it was locked into the vault. 335 Of all his courtiers, the Prince de Soubise alone remained faithful to the King's memory. He alone followed the mortal remains of his master throughout this lugubrious ride. Nor did he quit him till he had paid him the last honours. Louis XVI, was much touched by this exceptional fidelity. Some days later, meeting Mme. de Marsan, he said to her, " Maman, your brother was always my grandfather's friend. He must be mine too; tell him so from me." The news of Louis XV. 's death upset all Lauzun's plans. Instead of going on to Paris, as he had at first intended, he resolved to keep away from Court, which, in his present state of mind, had no attractions for him; caring only for seclusion and rest, he remembered very opportunely that he had a regiment, and that it might perhaps not be superfluous to introduce to his men a Colonel whom they had not yet seen. He therefore made his way to Mouzon, in the Ardennes, where the Royal Legion had its quarters — dull enough. 33^ CHAPTER XXV. 1774. Lauzun's residence at Monzon — The state of his fortune — A visit to Erascati — To Saverne — Prince Louis de Rohan. The somewhat morose, and indeed comparatively- austere life which Lauzun necessarily led at Mouzon suggested to him some serious reflections. It suddenly occurred to him that he had a fortune of which he had hitherto greatly neglected the adminis- tration, and that it might perhaps be well to make use of his leisure in ascertaining exactly how he stood in pecuniary matters. We have seen from the beginning of this narative the kind of life that was led by all this Court society. It may easily be imagined that this open-handed and lavish mode of living, and these incessant festivities, entailed considerable expenditure. The example was set by the highest. We know what the expenses of the Court were, and what waste prevailed in everything concerning the royal house- hold. One day when Choiseul was out driving with Louis XV., the King asked him at what value he would estimate the carriage in which they sat. " At 2>o7 z five or six thousand livres," replied Choiseul. " But as your Majesty pays like a king, and never ready money, it might run to eight thousand." " You are far below the mark," replied Louis XV. ; " this carriage cost me thirty thousand livres." Choiseul, in great indignation, proposed to set a limit to such wastefulness, and put a stop to such abominable abuses. "It is true," said the King, "that the peculation in my household is enormous, but it is quite beyond remedy. Too many people, and above all, too many powerful persons, are interested in it, take my word for it ; be calm and leave an incurable evil alone." In point of fact everyone in the King's service took toll, from the bottom to the top of the ladder. A few figures may give some notion of this frightful pillage. The King drank 200,000 francs worth (£8000) of coffee, orgeat and chocolate in a year; Mesdames burned 215,000 francs worth of wax candles ; Madame Elizabeth alone consumed 70,000 francs worth of meat, 30,000 francs worth of fish, and so on. The rest was to correspond. All these accumulated expenses mounted to such stupendous sums that the King could not pay his debts, that his purveyors were kept waiting for years, and that the officers of the household and servants, who never were paid their wages, were reduced to a state of embarrassment and poverty impossible to describe. The parish priest of Saint-Louis at Versailles, the parish in which the chateau stands, came to the King one day to beg some help for 338 the poor. ^' How is it that you have so many ? " asked the King. — " Sir," said the priest, ^^ even the footmen of your Majesty's household come begging to me." — '^I can quite believe it, they are never paid," replied Louis XV. coolly. In the Princes' houses, and among the nobility, the waste was not less. No accounts were kept, and so long as life was easy and magnificent no one troubled his head about the future. AVhat matter if one were ruined, so long as every wish was gratified and one did credit to one's position. Economy and prudent management were vulgar virtues of which people of fashion knew nothing, which indeed they held in utter contempt. Louis XVL having ventured one day to say to Mgr. Dillon, who lived in the style that has been described : " Monsieur I'Archeveque, I am told you are in debt, even very much in debt," the prelate replied carelessly, with his lordly air : " Sir, I will make inquiries of my intendant, and shall have the honour of accounting to your Majesty." Still, to be just, the prodigality of this aristocracy, foolish as it may have been, was not selfish. It had, too, an air of magnificence, and was a special form of refinement, of politeness which prevailed in that phase of society. Though a man might sometimes hesitate to fling away his money for a personal pleasure, he never shrank from spending it* in rendering a service or paying a polite attention. In those days a man wrote to his friend : ^^ I want ten thousand crowns ; if you have not got them, 339 z 2 sell something, pledge something — I must have them within twenty-four hours." And the friend, worthy of the name, sold, pledged — but sent the money. One day, the day before Longchamp, Mme de X. being anxious to figure at this famous promenade, asked the Vicomte de S. to lend her his open carriage ; unfortunately the Vicomte had already promised it. Was the lady's petition to meet with a refusal ? Not at all. The Vicomte went off to his coachmaker and bought a carriage of the greatest elegance, simply to lend it for three hours to Mme. de X. The action was thought most gallant, but no one was surprised at it ; such obliging grace was part of the conduct of life. When the Comte du Nord came to Paris he wished to be present at a review of the regiment of French guards. Lauzun's uncle, the Marechal de Biron, lent him a horse, and the Count as he thanked him declared he had never ridden a better. On arriving at Saint Petersburg the Grand Duke found the horse in the courtyard of his palace with three huntsmen in the Marechal' s state livery ; one, hat in hand, held the bridle ; another, on one knee, held the stirrup ; the third held a respectful letter of homage. This was how our ancestors understood politeness ; but by these beautiful manners they ruined them- selves with the most gallant grace, and that was what was about to happen to the Due de Lauzun. We have seen him from the age of sixteen (he was now seven -and- twenty) leading the most lavish life, 340 spending freely, his hand always open for a friend or a mistress ; we have seen him gallant, splendid and disinterested, while it never for a moment occurred to his mind that the spring from which he drew supplies could ever run dry. This happy serenity was coming to an end, and the severe inquiry to which he devoted himself during his stay at Mouzon did not fail to inspire some very melancholy reflections. We will first consider what might be the cost of a house kept up as Lauzun's was. He himself, of course, had other things to think about than the care of his fortune ; he employed a man of business whose duty it was to manage and administer all his property, and who kept his accounts with suffi- cient exactitude. This intendant, Jacques-Philippe Pays, an attorney to the parlement and citizen of Paris, lived in the Rue de la Sourdiere, in the parish of Saint-Roch, opposite the lane of the Jacobins ; every year he sent his master a schedule of the receipts and expenses of his household. Between the 1st of January, 1774, and the 1st of July, 1775, Pays had credited to his master's account 1,186,632 livres (or francs) and 77 sols (above £47,465). This large sum was not all income ; Lauzun had parted with some of his capital by selling shares, particularly some of the East India Company, for a sum of 436,615 livres, 6 sols, 8 deniers. On the other side, the expenditure during the same period had amounted to 1,187,576 livres, 47 sols. The whole deficit only appeared as 943 livres 17 sols, but 341 the capital had been reduced and many debts re- mained unpaid. The enormous outlay was thus accounted for. The Duchesse had 5000 livres (£200) a month for household expenses, but she often needed an additional sum. During the eigh- teen months of which we are speaking she had spent 105,000 livres (£4200). The Due, on his part, had drawn 43,559 livres, 17 sols, 4 deniers for his house- hold expenses ; but he had also had for his personal use 283,000 livres, and he had paid in drafts, letters of exchange and the like 644,435 livres, 15 sols. He had also paid [150,000 livres to the account of the Comte de Coigny, who had retired in his favour from the command of the Royal Legion.^ Dealers, workmen, etc., had received moneys to the amount of 95,000 livres, 12 sols, 4 deniers. Half a box at the Italian playhouse cost 2000 livres, a box at the Comedie Frangaise, 1500 ; half a box at the opera, 1337 livres, 10 sols. And to various persons as pensions or charges on the estate, nearly 74,000 livres. ^ This is the receipt for the first portion of the sum handed by the steward to the Comte de Coigny : "I, the undersigned, acting for the Comte de Coigny and holding a power of attorney from him, acknowledge the receipt from M. le Due de Lauzun, by the hand of M. Pays, his steward, the sum of 74,000 livres on account of 150,000 livres, at which price the said gentlemen have agreed to value a certain object given over by the said gentleman the Comte de Coigny to the said gentleman the Due de Lauzun, and known to them both, for which this is a full discharge without prejudice to the remaining 76,000 livres, for which the Due de Lauzun is shortly to give his note of hand to the credit of M. le Comte de Coigny, payable on the 20th of June next. '' Given at Paris, March 16, 1774. (Signed) *' Kichon." 342 It may be seen to how large a sum the regular expenses of the family amounted. The income was insufficient to meet them; it became absolutely necessary to draw on the capital, and as a fact this was done punctually every year. We have seen that Pays, to honour his lordly master's signature, had been obliged in one year to sell more than 400,000 livi^es worth of securities, shares, title-deeds, etc. Until 1770 Lauzun's steward had been a certain Jean-Baptiste Petit ; but Petit then died and Pays took his place. It was just at this time that Lauzun's pecuniary situation began to be seriously disordered, and Pays found his functions no sinecure. From the day he began his duties till the time of which we are speaking, the unhappy intendant's letters are one long series of complaints and lamenta- tions. Creditors stand in a file before his door, armed with bills, agreements, and promises to pay ; all are pressing, but some ask civilly while others are uncivil. Pays, not knowing which way to turn, appeals to Monseigneur ; but what does Monseigneur care for these miserable money matters? He will have nothing to say to them ; he is in England, or at Spa, in Holland, in Poland, absorbed in romantic adven- tures. Pays must get out of the mess, and above all must have money to send in response to his master's incessant demands. One specimen will suffice to show the tone of their correspondence. 343 "May 12, 1773. " MoNSEiGNEUE, — I could much have wished to put off till your return informing you of the position in which I find myself with reference to your affairs, but my utter inability to meet all that comes before me compels me to have recourse to you. " The last bill of exchange for 13,000 livres which I had to pay on the 10th of this month has com- pletely exhausted my funds and my credit. I do not known how I am to supply to Madame la Duchesse 5000 livres a month from now till the month of July, as well as 2000 livres a month to M. Roussel for your stable establishment. It is certain, Monseig- neur, that I have no means of doing so. I am no less embarrassed to honour the bill due on the 9th of next month, which you made me endorse last year when the bill was renewed. I am far from imagin- ing that I could stay proceedings, but it is equally certain that even if I were threatened with loss of liberty I could not possibly pay. " Two bills at sight were presented to me yester- day, each for 12,000 livres and signed by you, Monseigneur, on the 18th April, 1772, payable on the 1st and 10th of this month. One is in the hands of MM. Batbedat, bankers, who had it protested at your house, and subsequently by intervention against M. Magon de la Balue, who paid it, to honour the signature of an endorsee of Guingamp. The other is in the hands of a M. Bemier, Rue des Lavandieres-Sainte- Opportune, who also had it protested at your house, with an order to bring you, 344 Monseigneur, under the law. I have been every- where imploring them not to proceed against you, but to await your return, but without success. *' To add to my difficulties, Saint-Prix has taken up his abode with me these six days, to get out of me 2000 crowns, without which he tells me he can- not feed the hunting establishment, or even go back, not having a farthing's worth of credit, since the people he owes money to will supply nothing more till they are paid in full. I advised him to go to M. Gaucherel, who only pleaded poverty and the impossibility of helping him with a sou. " M. Goudan has come to his support, and, follow- ing his laudable custom, has signified to me in writing that he will give you the preference in the matter of summonsing you." The letter goes on in the same strain and ends with a pathetic appeal to the best feelings of " Monseigneur," who will surely let him know from what source to draw supplies wherewith to appease this ravenous pack of creditors. But while thus complaining. Pays had a high idea of his master's ultimate solvency. In June 1773, Lauzun wishing to borroAV 100,000 crowns at 5 per cent., the lenders required him to grant a new lease of his estates on the same terms as before. Pays, indignant at such a demand, wrote to his master this flattering but not very truthful state- ment: "It is impossible to invest money more safely or advantageously than with Monseigneur." Though a thorough investigation of his affairs was 345 not wholly satisfactory to Lauzun, and even gave him a far from hopeful glimpse into the future, he did not allow himself to dwell on such squalid themes, so repulsive to his instincts as a gentleman; he left it to Providence to take care of his fortune, since it was more necessary to him than to many other persons, and he made such good use of it. However melancholy he might be away from Princess Czartoriska, however vexed by the un- easiness he must feel as to the state of his fortune in the future, Lauzun was not by nature so sullen as to give himself over to care and sadness for any length of time. Happily for him, his gay and amiable character, and his seven-and-twenty years, helped him ere long to master them. When solitude, and the rigour of a mode of life to which he was unaccustomed, weighed on him too heavily, he paid short visits to Cardinal de Rohan at his chateau of Saverne, and to the Archbishop of Metz, Mgr. Montmorency-Laval, at his splendid estate of Frascati. He was everywhere welcomed with gladness. At the houses of these jovial prelates he found the pleasures, the festivities, the grand hunts, and the life of the world which he no doubt missed a little. At times he may have fancied himself back under the roof of worthy Mgr. Dillon, in the beloved precincts of Hautefontaine, where he had spent days at once so cruel and so happy. The chateaux of Saverne and Frascati yielded in no respect to that of the Archbishop of Narbonne, and life was not less cheerful there. At this day 346 we can form no idea of the existence of these lordly- prelates, who enjoyed enormous revenues, kept up the style of princes, and so dexterously and lightly combined a worldly and an episcopal career : such a type is nowhere to be found nowadays but in the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Lauzun, when he made up his mind to quit his solitude at Mouzon and to divert himself in the country, went first to Metz to pay a visit to his friend the Cardinal Archbishop de Montmorency- Laval. ]\Igr. de Montmorency had an income of about seven hundred thousand livres (£28,000) a year, and this did not suffice for the expenses of his household ; even with that he managed to get into debt. He kept open house, and the whole garrison of Metz found the most lavish hospitality at his chateau of Frascati, situated just outside the city gates. Not a stranger even passed through the town without calling to pay his respects to the Cardinal. Frascati, made into a magnificent residence by M. de Coislin, was a pleasure-house worthy of a royal prince. The gardens, the terraces, the arbours were all of the greatest beauty. Indoors, luxury was carried to the highest pitch ; the great gallery was hung with the finest Aubusson tapestry, and it was renewed every five years. Everything bore the stamp of Avealth and luxury ; the number of inten- dants, stewards, footmen and servants was endless, and his Eminence could give a dinner to a hundred guests all served by men in his own livery. 347 Mgr. de Montmorency was tall ; the expression of his features was imperious and hard, and a shifty look in his eyes made them even more unpleasing. But in spite of all, he had so grand an air and so much dignity of manner that even " without seeing his robe and red stockings it was easy to guess that he was born to take tlie lead wherever he might be." He was indeed quite infatuated about his family, and nothing could compare with his haughtiness and pride. He loved display and ostentation ; he was always to be seen with a following of his four high chaplains : the Comte de Clugny, Canon of Lyons, the Abbe de Chambre, the Abbe d' Argons and the Abbe Sinnetti ; all four were very dignified persons and made an extremely imposing escort. When the Cardinal went into Metz he always rode in a carriage with six horses ; he was received with military honours, the troops were called out, and the whole town was in a commotion. The Cardinal spent the winter in Paris, where ho lived in the simplest manner ; he might be met dressed as a country priest, and his favourite walk was to the Pont-Neuf to buy oranges, which he would carry home in his hat, without caring for what anyone might say. As soon as Spring returned the prelate made arrangements to leave Paris and go back to his splendid residence at Frascati. His return being announced, the servants flew to prepare the rooms ; the chateau was repaired, swarms of labourers 348 appeared in the gardens, the park, and the stables ; the whole house had to assume a festal air to welcome Monseigneur and his guests. The Cardinal rarely came unaccompanied ; he always brought with him some members of his family : nephews, nieces, the charming Vicomtesse de Laval, or the Marquise de Laval, who had the finest foot in the world, or Mmes. de Simiane, de la Chatre, de Jaucourt, etc. " What delightful rooms are made ready for them ! What a bustle in the attics which are to accommodate ladies' maids almost as elegant as their mistresses, and almost as worldly wise as Court dames ! Do not fear that these ladies will feel the dulness, the gravity of an episcopal palace ; the Spring, so rich in gifts, will bring back to the garrison at Metz a whole bevy of delightful Colonels." ^ The Cardinal showed the condescending tolerance which young folks appreciate so highly, he allowed his visitors the utmost liberty. As soon as the heat of the day began to decline the guests at the chateau dispersed about the gardens, all forming parties as they preferred, to wander off among the clumps of lilac, honeysuckle and roses in search of the retire- ment and poetry which are favourable to the out- pouring of sentiment. The chivalrous politeness of the amiable officers who were admitted to the circle could then be displayed at leisure. Life at Frascati was more regular in its conduct than at Saverne and Hautefontaine ; still, not to lose all touch with the times, no one could be La cour et la ville, from an nnpublislied MS. bj Barritre. 349 ignorant that Mgr. de Montmorency and Mme. the Abbess of the Chapter at Metz were very devoted friends. It was one of those strong attachments which disarmed criticism by its duration and depth. It was discussed openly and without mystery, and no one seems to have regarded it with any idea of blame or scandal. Lauzun's satisfaction may be imagined at finding himself in this enchanting centre of delightful society, and among many of his OAvn friends. At that moment indeed the Marquis and Marquise de Laval, with whom he was extremely intimate, were staying with the Cardinal. It was a pleasure to him to see them once more, and talk over Paris and Versailles, and all the events that had happened there since his departure. The Marquise, without being pretty, was one of the most brilliant and elegant women about the Court. She spent more than forty thousand francs a year on her dress, and as her income hardly allowed such luxury, her uncle, the Archbishop of Metz, paid the dressmaker's bills. At a later time, this lady, whose magnificence had amazed a Court, became devout to excess ; she gave all she possessed in charity, and spent her life in going on foot to see the poor and attend church services. The Marquis de Laval was a very original character. He gambled a great deal and for very high stakes, and always with extraordinary good luck ; to such a point indeed, that he made a hundred thousand crowns (£20,000) a year by play. 350 And no one ever suspected his honesty ; on the contrary, he was reputed the fairest player in the world ; he was consulted in every doubtful case, and his decision was authoritative. He was not deficient in wit, but he could never master an accurate comprehension of the meaning of words, and this resulted in malaprop sayings which were the delight of his friends and the public. He would calmly speak of a fogging given in each corner of an oval court ; he explained that he had come on horseback to arrive currente calamo ; he received an anonymous letter signed by all the officers of his regiment ; and many more such blunders might be quoted. Lauzun, who was greatly amused by this eccentric weakness, was always ready to improve on the stories of his friend to make them funnier ; at a pinch he would invent them. The Marquis lost nothing by this, for the drolleries attributed to him by Lauzun made him almost a celebrity. One day, however, he chose to take it amiss, and complained, " You are vexed, Laval ? " said Lauzun. " Well, then I will tell no more stories for you ; but you will see, you will be the loser." Laval thought better of it, and begged Lauzun not to carry out a threat which, put into effect, might have cost him his renown. It was during a visit at Frascati that the Marquis made one of his most exquisite blunders. The question arose at table whether Zeuxis and Apelles were contemporaries. Laval, who sat next to his friend, said : " Lauzun, what does that mean — con- 351 temporaries ? " — " People who live at the same time," replied the Due. ^^ You and I are con- temporaries." — " Come, do not make game of me," exclaimed Laval. " As if I were a painter ! " After spending a few enjoyable days in the society of Mgr. de Montmorency and his amiable guests, Lauzun returned to Mouzon to show himself to his regiment and so edify them by his assiduity ; then he set out for Saverne, whither the Cardinal de Rohan had invited him. The chateau of Saverne had been built by the Cardinals de Rohan, who had succeeded each other at Strasburg for more than a century. It was a magnificent structure and furnished with the greatest luxury. It contained more than seven hundred beds ; two hundred horses stood in the stables ; the servants were unnumbered ; all the kitchen pots were solid silver. Cardinal Armand de Rohan entertained aR the province, and even foreigners, with lavish splendour. Dwelling almost on the frontier, it seemed his part to represent France 'in the eyes of Germany; he received the Princes of Waldeck, of Baden, of Darmstadt, of Zwei-briicken (Deux-Ponts), and others. His vast revenues enabled him to meet with ease the expenses of such liberality. As Bishop of Strasburg he owned more than fourteen leagues square of land in Alsace, with twenty-five thousand inhabitants, and derived from it a revenue of above eight hundred thousand francs. His rule as Prince-Bishop also extended over a 352 hundred and eighty towns, boroughs and villages in the Markgraviate of Baden. Even at ordinary times, and when only his more intimate circle was about him, there would be in his drawing-room twenty or thirty of the most amiable women of the neighbourhood ; but they often came too from Paris and Versailles, for in those days distance counted for nothing, and no one hesitated to travel a hundred leagues in a postchaise with an opportunity for enjoyment in view. Every evening there was a grand supper at nine, and afterwards a concert, a ball or a play. The Cardinal received his guests with extreme affability, his handsome and always smiling face inspired con- fidence : " He has the countenance of a man born to hold functions ; the harmony of his features always gave him the look that people must adore ; a look which cost him nothing was a civility in itself." He was always grandly dressed, and looked magnifi- cent in his red Cardinal's robes ; he often wore a point lace alb worth more than a hundred thousand livres (£4000). This ecclesiastical vestment did not damp his gallantry, and the chateau de Saverne certainly enjoyed no reputation for sanctity. Such a lack of reputation, which in our day would be fatal, was, in the eighteenth century, an attrac- tion to visitors. And indeed the welcome was so cordial, so entirely superior to prejudice, so free from vulgar suspiciousness, that once at home in this en- chanting place, no one could bear to leave it. And the 353 A a manners, at any rate, at Saverne were so marked by simplicity and ease that a foreign visitor has left it on record that he could not help noticing " the air of propriety which reigns in this episcopal residence. The clergy of Germany or of Italy are far from setting such good examples/' Nothing was neglected that could give Mgr. de Rohan's guests a pleasant memory of their stay at Saverne. Beyond the necessity of appearing at supper, every one enjoyed perfect liberty. A steward went round the house every morning to take the names of those who wished to be served in their rooms. An excellent dinner was then provided at any appointed hour. Carriages stood in readiness all day for the use of the Cardinal's guests. An arrangement had been devised for the shooting parties, which was as prudent as it was hospitable. Battue shooting was the favourite sport ; more than six hundred peasants and a swarm of keepers in the Prince's livery scoured the woods and the country to drive the game. The sportsmen, with whom there were always several ladies, were posted two and two, but for fear that the ladies might be alarmed if left alone, care was taken to reassure them by leaving each in charge of the man she hated least. To prevent accidents, a formal injunction prohibited any one's leaving the spot assigned to him ; and this prohibition had another great advantage, it prevented the couples being surprised while on the watch for game. This precaution at first sight may seem trivial, but it is said that many ladies who, as 354 a rule, cared but little for sport, were always to be seen at the Cardinal de Rohan's shooting parties. There were always three battues before breakfast ; then, " at about one in the afternoon, the company collected under a fine tent, on the bank of a brook or in some delightful spot ; a delicious dinner was served, and as everybody was to be made happy, each peasant had a pound of meat, two pounds of bread and half a bottle of wine, and then was as ready to begin again as the ladies were." ^ Lauzun met at Saverne his friend Prince Louis de Rohan,^ the Cardinal's nephew and coadjutor; he was also nephew of the Prince de Soubise and Mme. de Marsan. He and Lauzun had lived in Paris in the same circle ; though they were not quite of the same age, they had the same tastes and committed the same follies, and were delighted to meet again. The Prince had just come from Vienna, where he was Ambassador for France. If he was not an edifying priest, he was, on the other hand, a fascinating gentleman. He had a most pleasing face, with liveliness, grace and matchless charm ; his conversation indeed was frivolous and free, but so gay, so witty, so animated ! " He is nothing that he ought to be," writes Mme. de Genlis. " But he is as amiable as it is possible to be, apart from his position and character." It was im- possible to be more attractive. ^ Souvenirs du Marquis de Valfons. * Louis Rene Edonard, Cardinal de Rohan Guemenee, Bishop of Strasbnrg, deputy to the States-general ; famous for the affair of Marie Antoinette's diamond necklace. Bom 1734, died 1803. 355 A a 2 His conduct, to be sure, was deplorable for an ecclesiastic, but that would not shock the Lord of Saverne ; and Prince Louis was always welcomed with open arms by his venerable uncle, with whom he never failed to spend some time when he had leave of absence to visit Versailles. He had been appointed Ambassador to Vienna in the stead of the Due de Saint-Megrin, whom Maria Theresa had refused to receive on account of his father, M. de la Vauguyon. The Empress had no great reason to rejoice exceed- ingly over the second choice of the French King. Rohan, on arriving at Vienna, displayed the most unheard-of luxury, but he also charmed all the world by his graciousness and affability. To such a point indeed, that Maria Theresa herself was at first taken in by them. But it was not long before she discerned the Ambassador's true moral worth : he was a reckless spendthrift, without conduct or character, talent or genius. Notwithstanding her anxiety to see him " turned out of Vienna " as soon as possible, she resigned herself to his remaining, but she wrote of him these prophetic lines : " My fears are doubled when I think of all the evil a man of this kind would be capable of doing if he ever gained a footing at the Court of France." When he found himself at Saverne among his friends, and prelates of his own kidney. Prince Louis could give free course to the license of his wit, with- out fear of shocking any one, and sure of meeting some kindred spirit. He would then complacently relate all his successes in the Austrian capital, how 356 he had won over people of the highest rank, and how the Emperor was so fond of him that he could not do without him. He repeated to his astonished auditors how he had bewitched all the ladies of the Court, till, young and old, handsome and ugly, they all doted on him, and braved the wrath of the Empress Regent for his sake ; he related his gallantries, which had scandalized the whole town, and told how the prudish and austere Viennese Court shuddered at his pranks. He had no more respect for religion than for morality. He himself related the story of a stag- hunt on Corpus-Christi day. All the French legation, in green hunting coats, had run the stag down into a suburb of Vienna, where it met a procession ; heedless of the sacrilege, the Ambassador, at the head of the dogs and huntsmen, rushed through the sacred train, and the hunt went on, to the great scandal of the bystanders. As he listened to these narratives, so wittily told, Lauzun was immensely amused ; but at the same time he was fascinated by the descriptions of an ambassador's life, of which all the delights, all the brighter side were so vividly set before him. He told himself in confidence that where Prince Louis had been so triumphant, he, no less, should undoubtedly shine, and that being fitted by birth for every position, nothing need hinder him from mak- ing his way in a diplomatic career and gathering fresh successes. To be just, it was not the worldly side alone which at this juncture tempted our hero ; 357 in all the world he only saw his beloved Princess, and he reflected that the easiest and surest way of getting near her again was by obtaining a diplomatic mission. This idea, of which the germs were sown in his mind by Prince Louis' stories, was destined to develop, and we shall by-and-by see with what result. He also reflected that he was now twentv- •J seven, that the time had come when he must give up his life of uselessness and idleness, and attempt some of the high functions to which a man of his rank and name might lay claim ; and that now, at the begin- ning of a new reign, new men were coming to the front ; was it not an opportune moment for starting on the political stage? Love, in whose service he had frittered away the years of his youth, at last afforded him a motive for taking up the serious side of life, and devoting the use of his existence to the service of his country. Should he let it slip ? No, assuredly not. In another volume we may see Lauzun, hitherto so frivolous and reckless, as a diplomate, a politician, and a military man, throwing himself into his new duties, and yet remaining the same man, as amiable, fascinating and romantic as we have always found him. INDEX OF NAMES. {When a name is printed in italics, refer to that.) Adelaide, Madame, 47, 202, 216 f., 237, 322. Aiguilles, President d', 95. Aiguillon, Due d', 203, 224 ff., 241,270. „ Duchesse d', 319, 321, 331. Aix, Jean-de-Dieu de Boisgelin-Cuce (Archbishop of), 247. Alembert, Jean le Eond d' (quoted), 95, 269. Aloigny, Marquise d', 200. Amblimont, Mme. d', 28, 40, 69, 70 note, 91 note, 146. Andouille (surgeon), 334. Anspach, Elizabeth Lady Craven, Margravine of, 297 ff. Antin, Due d', 143 note. Arcambal, 171. Argenson, Marc-Pierre Voyer, Mar- quis d', 6, 239, 255 note. Argons, Abbe d', 348. Armenti^res, Marquis d', 100 note. Arnould, Sophie (acti'ess), 125, 231, 270 note, 277. Arras, Bishop of, 247. Ai-tois, Comte d', 317, 322. Aumont, Jacques, Due d', 12, 334. Ayen, Due d', 4, 249, 334. Barbaggio (Corsican General), 174, 176. Barriere (quoted), 349. Barry, Guillaume Vicomte du, 198. „ Jean Comte du, 159, 193, 211, 309 note, 332. „ Nicolas du, 209. „ (Jeanne Vaubernier) Vicom- tesse du, 159 ff., 193 ff., 204, 206, 210, 218 ff ., 234, 269,277, 320, 322, 330. Barthelemy, Abbe, 103, 112, 161, 162 ff., 168, 233, 246, 247, 248, 249, 251, 253, 255. Bassompierre, Marie de, Stainville. Bautru, Marie Antoinette de, Du- chesse de Biron. Beam, Comtesse de, 200, 203. Beauvau, Prince de, 41, 43, 64, 125, 241 ff. „ „ (quoted) 35, 39. „ Princesse de, 65, 66. „ Marie C. S. (de Eohan Chabot) Princesse de, 91 note, 196, 200, 202, 220, 241. „ Mile, de, Princesse de Poix. ,, Marquise de Mirepoix. Beauvoir, Louis Claude Scipion de, 21 note. Belaspect, M. de, 174. Belle Isle, Marechal de, 54. Belleval, M. de (quoted), 230. Belsunce, Marquise de, 45. B6relle, Mile, de, 6. Bernard, Mile., Marquise de Mire- poix, 38 note. Bemis, Cardinal de, 28, 239. Berry, Miss (quoted), 122 note. Besenval (quoted), 61, 63, 74, 249. Bidache, Prince de, Due de Qramont. Billardi, Abbe, 233, 251, 253. Biron, Antoine Ch. de Gontaut-Biron, Due de Lauzun. „ Armand de Gontaut, Baron de, 19. „ Charles, Due de, 20. „ Charles Antoine Armand, Due de Gontaut. , , Charles Armand, Marechal and Due de Gontaut-Biron, 17, 18 note, 20, 24, 34. „ Jean de, 20 note. „ Louis Antoine, Marechal and Due de, 22, 50, 59, 99, 279, 340. , , Marie Antoinette' (de Bautru) , Duchesse de, 21. 359 Biron, Pauline Fr. (de la Rochefou- cauld deRoye), Duchesse de, 22, 279. Bissi, M. de, 46 note. Boisgelin de Cuije, Jean de, Arch- bishop of Aix. „ „ Comte de, 100 note. „ „ Comtesse de, 100 note, 119. Boissi, Charles Despres de (quoted), 7. Boissieux, Comte de, 167, 182 note. Bonnac, Jean Louis Dasson, Marquis de, 21 note. Bonneval, Claude Alexandre, Comte de, 21 note. Boufflers, Amelie de, Duchesse de Lauzun. „ Amelie, Comtesse de, 123, 294 note. „ Joseph Marie, Duo de, 23, 60. Chevalier de, 100 f., 114, 168, 249, 251, 253. „ Duchesse de, 63, 279. ,, Duchesse de (nee de Ville- roy) Marechale de Lux- embourg. „ Marquise de, 103, 104, 120, 122 fe., 127, 143, 147, 294. Boulainvilliers, Comte de, 272. Bourdeilles, Mgr., Bishop of Soissons. Boynes, M. de, 270. Branicki, 311. Breteuil, Mile, de, Rohan, 42 note. Breuille, 98 note. Brionne (nee Rohan Rochefort), Com- tesse de, 143, 246. Broglie, Charles Victor, Comte de, 100 note. „ Comtesse de, 100. Buffevent, Chevalier de, 191. Bunbury, Sir Charles, 140, 155. ,, Lady Sarah (nee Lennox), 140, 147 ff., 155 ff. Bussy, Madame de, 204 note. Caillaud (actor), 136 note. Cambis (nee de Chimay), Vicomtesse de, 118, 120, 128, 149. Cambrai, Cardinal de Rohan, Arch- bishop of, 42 note, 100 note . Campan, Mme., 216, 227. Caraman, Mme. (n^e de Chimay), 118. Carignan, Marie Ther^se de, Princesse de Larriballe. Carlos III., King of Spain, 194 note. Casanova (quoted), 33. Caumont, Antoine N. de, Duo de Lauzun. Chabannes, Mme. de, 249. Chabot, Comte de, 100 note, 125. „ Comtesse de, 249. Chambre, Abbe de, 348. Chamforb (quoted), 196 note. Champlost (valet), 90. Chardon, Daniel Marc Antoine, 173 note, 189. „ Mme. (nee Maupassant), 173, 178, 185, 187, 208. Chartres, Louis Philippe Joseph Due de, 72, 100, 135, 137, 166, 230, 273, 310. „ Louise Marie Adelaide de Penthievre, Duchesse de, 166,214. Chateauroux, Marie Anne de Mailly- Nesle, Comtesse de, 24, 35 note, 255 note. Chatel, Marquise du, 17, 18, 32. „ Antoinette Eustachie, Mar- quise de Gontaut. „ Louise Honorine, Duchesse de Ghoiseul. Chauvelin, Fr. Claude, Marquis de, 41, 91, 125, 171, 175, 177 fe., 203, 241, 324. „ Comtesse de, 49, 249. Chevemy, Jean Nic. Dufort, Comte de (quoted), 23, 28, 34, 45, 59, 88, 90, 332. Chimay, Gabrielle Charlotte Fran- 9oise, Vicomtesse de Camhis. „ Prince de, 125, 311. Choiseul, Etienne Fr. de Choiseul- Stainville, Due de, 12, 26, 28, 52, 54, 88, 91, 96, 100 note, 117, 134, 169, 196, 199,208, 210 fe., 218 fe., 229 ff., 253 fe., 270, 325, 337. „ Louise Honorine Crozat du Chatel, Duchesse de, 26, 30, 36, 53, 67, 88, 90, 91 note, 100 note, 103, 106 ff., 161 fe., 196, 200, 202, 220, 228, 229 fe., 243 ie., 255 fe. „ d'Aillecourt, 239. -Gouffier, 239. „ -Labaume, 239. „ -Romanet, Comtesse de, 27, 31. „ -Stainville, Beatrice de, Duchesse de Oramont. Christiem VII., King of Denmark, 141. 360 ChurcMll, Lady, 250. Clairon, Mile, (actress), 49. Glairval (actor), 1,33, 136. Clement XIII., Pope, Rezzonico, 93 Bote. „ XIV., Pope, Ganganelli, 94 note. Clermont, Abbe de, 284. „. : d'Amboise Marquise de (Vrincesse de Beatcvau) . Clermont-Renel, Thomasse Ther&se Comtesse de Stainville. Clotilde, Madame, 105. Coigny, Comte de, 171, 183, 207 note, 273, 311, 326, 342. Coigny, Comtesse de, 124, 249. Colle, 127. Conde, Prince de, 70, 100, 126, 240, 318, 333. Conti, Louis Francois de Bourbon, Prince de, 100, 120 ff., 138, 166, 268, 269 note, 319, 325. „ Louise Diane (d'Orleans), Princesse de, 120 note. Conrtenvaux, Fr. M. C. le Tellier, Marquis de (Due d'Estrees), 22 note. „ Louise Antoinette de Gontaut Marquise de, 22 note. Craon, Prince de, 38 note. Craven, Lady, see Anspach. „ Lord, 303. Crawford, Mr., 143. Crequi, M. de, 80. Creutz, Baron de (quoted), 33. Czartoriska, Isabelle Fortunee (nSe Fleming), Princess, 295 ff., 304, 307, 311, 314 ff., 328, 346. Czartoriski, Adam Casimir, Prince, 295 note, 297, 326 ff. 251, 254, 261, 269, 275, 278, 293, 306, 318, 319, 321,325,326. Dillon, Arthur, Archbisbop of Nar- tonne. „ Comtesse (?iee de Rothe), 64, 584 ff. Dombes, Prince de, 23. Donnezan, 125. Duclos (quoted), 30. Dumesnil, Mile, (actress), 49. Dumoui'iez (quoted), 209. Durfort, Louise de, Ducbesse de Mazarin. Dutens (quoted), 110 note. Duth^, Mile, (actress), 73. Egmont, Comtesse d', 124, 135, 137. Elizabeth, Madame, 105. Enville, Mme. d', 249. Esparbes, Mme. d', 40, 69, 70 f., 96. Esterhazy, Prince, 249. Estr^es, Louis Cesar Le Tellier do Courtenvaux, Due d', 22 note. Eu, Comte d', 23. Fel, Mile, (actress), 125. Fersen, Hans. Axel, Count . von (quoted), 2. .. Flavacourt, Mme. de, 255 note. Fleury, Marquise de, 247, 255. Forcalquier, Louis B. de Brancas Comte dO) 143 note. „ (quoted), 8. „ (nee Carbonnel de Can- isy), ComtessO de, 143, 321, 322. ." Formont, 167. Fox, Charles James, X43. Fronsac, M. de, 273. Dauphin, Son of Louis XY., 33, 45, 62,77,97,98,145. . Dauphin, Louis, Grandson of Louis XV., 98, 200, 209, 214, 277, 320. Dauphiness, Marie Antoinette of Austria. „ Mane Josepha of Saxony* Deffant (Marie de Vichy Chamrond), Mdme. du, 103, 106 ff., 116, 127, 234, 236,. 247 ff., 261, 265. • ff„ (quoted), 30, 31, 41, 44 note, 103, 107, 110, 115, 123, 124, 134, 141, 142, 143, 146, 147, 148, 151, 152, 198, 219, 220, 221, .232, 234, 242, 243, 245, Gatti, Doctor, 103, 112, 161, 164, 233. Genlis, Stephanie F. de Brulart de Sillery, Comtesse de (quoted), 22, 40, 44, 118, 129, 242, 272, 294. Geoff rin, Mme., 61 note. George III., King of England, 153, 306. G^vres, Marquis de, 76. Gibbon, Edward (writer), 143. Gleichen, Baron von (quoted), 29,311. Gontaut, Antoinette Eustachie {nee Crozat du Chatel) Mar- quise de, 17, 18, 23, 26. „ Charles Fr. Arm. de, 22 note. „ Jean Louis de, 22. „ Louis Antoine de. Due de Biron. , 36? Gontant de Biron, Alexandre de, Baron de Saint Blancard, 20 note. „ „ ,, Armand de, Baron de Saint Blan- card, 20 note. „ „ „ Armand de. Baron de Biron, 19. „ „ ,, Charles de, 20, and note. M „ „ Charles Antoine Marquis, after- wards Due de, 17 note, 23, 24, 48, 50, 53, 60, 63, 69, 88, 90, 91, 99, 102, 218, 226, 232, 239, 253, 261 ff., 325. „ „ „ Charles Armand, 20. ,, „ „ Charles Francois, 22 note. „ „ „ Jean de, 20 note. „ ,, „ Louise Antoinette de, 22 note. Gouffier, Marie Therese, Marquise du Chdtel. Gramont, Antoine Antonin, Duo de, 38 note. „ Beatrice de Choiseul- Stainville, Duchesse de, 36, 52, 64, 82, 91, 93, 96, 195 ff., 200, 202, 232, 241, 245, 254, 326. „ Louis, Due de, 21 note. Grimm (quoted), 10 note. Groliey, Mme. de, 138. Guemenee, Henri Louis M. de Rohan, Prince de, 42 note, 72, 74, 77, 104, 105, 235, 273, 281, 284 ff. „ Victoire Armando de Eohan Soubise, Prin- cesse de, 104, 274, 281. Guerchy, Claude Fran9ois L. R., Comte de, 153. Guibert, FranQois Apolline, Comte de, 189, 191. Guines, Comte, afterwards Due de, 14, 125, 293 ff., 303 ff. Gustavus III., 141. Harcodbt, Due d', 23. „ Simon, Earl of, 143. Harland, Miss Mary Anne, 301 fF. Harville, Mme. de, 321. Hausset, Mme. du, quoted, 25. Havray, M. d', 324. H^nanlt, Charles Jean Fr., President, 44, 107. „ „ „ (quoted), 39 note. Henin, Prince d', 125, 135. „ Princesse d', 124. Henri IV., King of France, 20 note. Hewel, Sir Marmaduke, 301. Holland, Lady (n^e Lennox), 147. Hopital, Comtesse de 1', 205, 321. Hume, David (writer), 143, 145. Invault, Mme. d', 248. Isle, M. de 1', 251. Jarnac, Vicomte de, 125, 249. Jaucourt, Chevalier de, 58. Jelyotte (actor), 125, 132. Jonsac, Mdme. de, 44 note. Klinski, Count, 55 note. La Borde, 332. La Chalotais, 225. Lamballe, Louis. Alexandre de Bour- bon-Penthievre, Prince de, 100, 138, 166. „ Marie Therese Louise de Savoie Carignan, Prin- cesse de, 138, 276. Lambesc, Prince de, 246 note. La Rochefoucauld de Roye, Pauline Fr., Dacbesse de Lauzun. Larrivee, Henri (actor), 133. Laujon, 127. Lauraguais, Mme de, 139. Lauzun, Am61ie de Boufflers, Duchesse de, 60, 63, 64, 99, 101 ff., 106, 109 ff., 115, 124, 129, 162, 235, 244, 251, 255, 261, 264, 272, 274, 323, 342. „ Antoine Ch. de Gontaut- Biron, Due de, 22 note. „ Antoine Nompar de Cau- mont, Comte, afterwards Duo de, 21 note. „ Armand Louis de Gontaut- Biron, Due de, birth, 17, 23 ; home life, 48; education, 49 ; enters the guards, 50 ; betrothal, 59, 64; illness, 93 ; early life, 70 ff. ; mar- riage, 99 f. ; created Duo de Lauzun, 118 ; goes to England, 152 ; visits Chan- teloup, 161 ; joins the army in Corsica, 172 ; rescues Marbeuf, 182 ; brings home the news of victory, 206; Court festivities for the 362 Dauphin's marriage, 214 fip. j follows Choiseul in banish- ment, 232; returns to Paris, 235 ff. ; stays at Chanteloup, 239 ff., 232 ff., 263; in Paris, 1771-72, 271 fE.; visits Hautefon- taine, 288 ; second visit to England, 293; leaves for Spa, 310; comes back to Paris, 314; attempts sui- cide, 316 ; exchanges regi- ments, 326; goes to Mouzon, 337 ; the state of his finances, 341 ; visits Saveme and Frascati, 347 fE. ; death mentioned, 20 note. Lanzun, Pauline Fr. Dnchesse de, 22. Laval,Montmorency-, Marquis de, l7l, 172, 174, 182, 203, 272, 349 ff. „ Marquise de, 350. Lekain (actor), 49, 124. Lennox, Lady Sarah Bunhury. „ Lady Louisa (nee Ker), 147. Le Tellier, F. M. C, Marquis de Courtenvaux. Levis, M. A., Due de (quoted), 40 note, 61 note. „ Pierre de, Marquis de Mire- poix. Liancourt, Duchesse de, 272. Li^ge, Bishop of, 310. Ligne, Charles, Prince de, 115 note, 310. „ (quoted), 7, 15, 40, 61, 114, 121, 240, 308, 332. „ Princesse de, 249. Lille, Chevalier de, 221. Listenay, Chevalier de, 161, 163. Lixen, Prince de, 38 note. Lorenzi, Chevalier de, 10 note. Lorraine, Mile, de, 246. Louis, XIV., King of France, 79, 169. „ XV., 25, 33, 36, 69, 77, 78, 85, 89, 97, 100, 177, 194, 197, 200, 202, 206, 214, 219, 221, 226, 229 note, 236, 240, 254, 268 ff., 318, 319, 324, 329 ff., 337, 339. „ XVI., 292, 334, 339. Louise, Madame, 47, 202, 216 note. Ludre, Chevalier de, 179 ff. Luxembourg (Duchesse de Boufflers), Marechale de, 60 ff., 101, 109, 124, 129, 220, 243 ff., 255, 257, 279, 294. Luynes, Duchesse de, 44. Machault, 239. Maillebois, M. de, 167. Maine, Duchesse du, 255 note. Marbeuf, Comte de, 168, 170, 176, 182, 185. Marohe, Louis Francois de Bourbon, Comte de la, 138, 269. „ Comtesse de la, 57 note, 139. Maria Theresa, Empress, 28, 213, 225, 270, 271 note. Marie Antoinette, Dauphiness, 212, 215 ff., 237, 270, 277, 280, 319, 334. Marie Josepha, Dauphiness, 45, 139. Marie Leczinska, Queen of France, 33, 34, 44, 45, 95, 100, 165. Marigny, N. Poisson, Marquis de, 90. ,, Vicomtesse de, 272. Marin, Frangois (quoted), 95 note. Marmontel, Jean Francois (writer), 12, 132. Marsan, Marie Louise de Rohan- Soubise, Comtesse de, 29, 42 note, 46, 104, 336. Maupassant, Mile., Mme. Chardon. Maupeou (Chancellor), 222 ff., 267 ff., 318. Maurepas, Marquis de, 239, 255. Mayran, Dortous de, 125. Mazarin, Louise de Durfort, Duchesse de, 275 ff., 279, 321. Mercy, A. Frangois de (quoted), 215, 225, 271. Mesdames, Princesses of France, 33, 46, 210, 334, 338. I. Adelaide. II. Victoire. III. Sophie. IV. Louise. I. Clotilde. 11. Elizabeth, 105, 210. Metz, Cardinal de Montmorency Laval, Archbishop of, 247, 346 ff. Mirabeau, Victor Riquetti, Marquis de (quoted), 113, 173. Mirepoix, Marquis de, 38 note, 43 note. „ Marquise de (nee de Beauvau), 38, 64, 124, 134, 137, 203, 234, 278, 324. Miromenil, Mme. de, 138. Mole, Fran9oi8 Rene (actor), 49. Moncrif, Francois Augustin (writer), 44. Montbarrey, Chev. de, 50, 55 note. Montesquieu, Anne Pierre, Marquis de, 249, 255. Montesson, Mme. de, 73 note, 294, 338 note. Monteynard, Marquis de, 270. Montf errant, Charles Ant. Armand de Oontaut. Montmorency, Princesse de, 278. Montmorin, Mme. de, 7. Montpellier, Bp. of, 291. Montpensier, Mile, de, 21 note. 363 Montrond, M. de, 179. Mostowski, Count, 327. Mouchy, Duo de, see Noailles. Mozart, Wolfgang (musician), 125. Mun, M. de, 259. Narbonne, Mgr. Dillon, Arohbp. of, 224, 282 ff., 339, 346. Naroonne, Comte de, 170, 182 ff. Necker, Suzanne de Naaz (quoted), 264, 265. Nivernais,'Duc de, 143 note. ^ NoaiUes, Philippe Duo de, Marechal, 4, 216 note. „ Duchesse de, 216. „ , Vicomte de, 7. Nogent-le-Roi, Armand Comte de, 21. ' ,, ' Mme. de, 21 note. Nord, Comte du, 340. Noure, Comtesse de, 100 note. Obeekirch, Mme. (quoted), 297. Onezan, M. d', 259. Orleans, Philippe Duo d', 73, 126, 214, 240, 294, 318, 333. „ Bishop of, 247. Ossun, Mme. d', 249, 255. Paoli, Giacinto, 167. Pascal, .167, 178, 191. Parma, Duchess of, 89 note. Pays (Steward to the Due de Lauzun), 340 ff. Penthi&vre, Louis J. M. de Bourbon, Due de, 100, 138. „ Louise Marie Adelaide de, Duchesse de Chartres. Phelipeaux, Louis, Due de la Vrilliere. " Philippe Egalite," see Chartres. Pius VII., Pope, 94 note. Poix, Chev. de Noailles, Prince de, 67. „ Mile, de Beauvau, Princesse de, 65, 67, 124, 243, 255, 259. Porabal, Seb. Jos. Carvalho, Marquis*. de, 93. Pompadour, Jeanne Antoinette, Mar- quise de, 25, 27, 34 f ., 43, 49 ff., 69, 79, 85 ff., 92, 102, 196, 226. Poniatowski, Stanislas, 295 note, 296. Pont de Veyle, Antoine de Ferriol, Comte de, 127. Praslin, Due de Choiseul-, 229 note. „ Duchesse de, 89. Provence, Comte de, 274. „ Comtesse de, 274 ff., 280, 319 322 Pujol, M. de, 189, 190.. Queen, Marie Leczinslca. Repnine, Prince, 296 ff., 304, 312, 314. Rezzonico, Clement VII. Richelieu, Due de, 199, 203, 224. Robecq (nee de Luxembourg), Prin- cesse de, 132. Roch (groom of the Chambers to the Due de Lauzun), 48, 49, 54, 56. Roche- Ay mon, Cardinal de la, 333. Rochford, Lord (ambassador), 146. Rochefort, Rohan Prince de, 42 note. „ Marie J. Th. de Brancas, Comtesse de, 113, 143. Rochefoucauld, M. de la, 249. ,, ■ de Roye, Pauline Fr., Duchesse de Biron. Rohan, family of, 42 note. „ Prince de, 42 note. „ -Chabot, Princesse de Beauvau. „ Charlesde, Prince de Souhise. „ Louis Rene, Prince de, 355. Rothe, Madame de, 284. „ Mile, de, Comtesse Dillon. Rousseau, Jean Jacques (quoted), 62, 102. Saint Blancard, Alexandre de Gon- taut-Biron, Baron de, 20 note. „ „ Armand de Gontaut- Biron, Baron de, 20 note. Saiat Plorentin, Comte de Due de la, Vrilliere, 100 note. „ Julien, M. de, 272. „ Megrin, Due de, 356. „ Duchesse de, 137. Sartines, M. de (quoted) , 159. Saxe, Aurore de (quoted), 14. ,, Maurice de, 120. „ Xavier, Comte de (quoted), 96, 331. Segur, Joseph Alex., Viscomte de, 249, 333. Seignelay, Charles Eleonor Colbert, Comte de, 21 note. „ . Comtesse .de, 100 note. Selwyn, 143. Sevigne Mme. de (quoted), 307 note. Sinnetti, Abbe, 348. : Soissons, Mgr., Bourdeille, Bishop of, 290. ' , Sophie,' Madame, 47. Soubise, Charles de Rohan, Prince de, 29, 42, 91 note, 92, 100 ' . ,note, 203, 236. „ . Ducheese de, 274, 336. . Sourches, Louis du Bouchet,. MacquiS de, 21 note. Spencer, Lady Georgiana,' DiBchess of Devonshire, 311. - 364. Stainville, Beatrice de Choiseul-St., Duchesse de Gramont. „ Comte de, 54, 82, 131, 249, 310. „ Etienne Fr. de, Due de Choiseul. „ Fran9ois Jos., Marquis de, 26 note. „ Marie de Bassompierre, Marquise de, 26 note. „ Thomasse Therese de Clermont-Eenel, Com- tesse de, 54, 56, 82 ff., 99, 102, 117, 131 ff. Stanley, Lord, 299. Strasbourg, Cardinal de Rohan, Bishop of, 283 £E., 346 ff., 352. Talleyeand, Prince de, 2, 15, 18, 26, 74, 75, 92, 282. Talmont, Princesse de, 145 note. Tencin, Mme. de, 255 note. Terray, Joseph Marie Abbe, 223. Tesse, Comte de, 212 note. „ Marquise de, 45, 249. Tingry, Charles Fr. de Montmorency Luxembourg, Prince de, 76 note, 100 note. „ Princesse de, 76, 100 note, 247. Tonnerre, M. de, 274. Toulouse, Archbishop of, 247. „ Comtesse de, 100. Tour du Pin, Chevalier de la (Jean Fr.) Comte, 209 ff. Ubson, M. and Mme. d', 249. Valentinois, Mme. de, 135, 204, 278. Valfons, Marq. de (quoted), 355. Valliere, Mme. de la, 143. Vaubecourt, M. de, 137. Vaubernier, Jeanne, Comtesse du Barry. Vaudemont, Mile, de, 246 note. Yaudreuil, 124, 261. Yauguyon, Due de la, 46, 215, 224, 276, 277, 356. Vaux, Comte de, 188, 191. Vermond, Abbe, 215, 271 note. Victoire, Madame, 47. Villequier, Due de, 334. Villeroy, Due de, 60 note, 100 note. „ Marquis de, 62 note, 203. Yoltaire (quoted), 61 note. Yoyer, Marc. Pierre, Comte d^Argen- son. ,, Marc. Rene, Marquis de, 72, 75. Yrillifere, Louis Phelipeaux, Due de la, 229. Walpolk, Horace, 143, 196. }> „ (quoted), 10, 31, 44,45,46,47,62, 94, 98, 122, 141, 144, 145, 153, 169, 194, 199, 201, 240, 289, 299. Wimpffen, , Baron de, 100 note. Wiirmser, DagobertSigismund, Baron de, 209. X, Mme. de (unpublished memoirs) (quoted), 7, 79, 87, 292, 340. 365 LONDON : PRINTED BY GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LIMITED, ST. John's house, clerkenwell road, e.c. <