The Road to Compiegne (47 page)

Jeanne was being prepared to follow in the footprints of Madame de Pompadour, which to all earnest observers were still visibly leading from the valleys of obscurity to the summit of power.

Determined that his interests should not be forgotten he brought from Lévignac to Paris, with his brother Guillaume, his sister, Fanchon, so that she might become Jeanne’s companion at Court and thus look after the interests of the family.

Fanchon was middle-aged, slightly lame but shrewd; and she had a great affection for her adventurous brother and was very grateful to him for rescuing her from the dreary life at the family
château
.

Jean Baptiste then busied himself with providing a forged birth certificate for Jeanne, in which he not only described her as the legitimate daughter of Jean-Jacques Gomard de Vaubarnier but deducted a few years from her age. Jeanne was twenty-five, which was not really very young, so he would make her out to be twenty-two.

As for the Chevalier Guillaume, he became the ‘
Haut et puissant Seigneur, Messire Guillaume, Comte du Barry, Capitaine des Troupes Détachées de la Marine
’.

‘Everybody,’ said Jean Baptiste, ‘is now happy.’

Guillaume could return home amply rewarded, Fanchon would have a place at Court, and Jeanne need have no qualms about masquerading under a false name as she was now in truth, Madame du Barry. The King was delighted, because he need no longer concern himself with this little point of etiquette and could enjoy the company of his mistress in peace.

But there were many who were far from content. And chief of these was, of course, Choiseul.

Chapter XVIII

THE PRESENTATION OF MADAME DU BARRY

R
ichelieu was watching events closely. He was an old man, but as in his love affairs he continued with zest, so it was in his political ambitions.

Choiseul was a fool. Pride was his vulnerable spot and it would bring him to disaster, prophesied Richelieu. He had declared himself against the new mistress from the beginning and he would not change his attitude towards her. If he had been a wise man he would at least have pretended to do this.

The King was deeply enamoured, and Choiseul was fully aware how strong had been his attachment to Madame de Pompadour. He should consider: this woman was young and healthy; the King was old and prone to melancholy. Madame du Barry had the same chance as Pompadour had had of keeping her place.

It was the ambition of every man at Court to provide the King with a mistress who would be a friend and not forget her sponsor. Therefore a wise man, who had been unable to provide the King with a mistress, would seek to make himself the friend of the woman whom someone else had procured.

Thus the Duc de Richelieu made up his mind that he would become the friend of Madame du Barry. Not only that, he would gather together certain of his friends and they would stand by her; their object being to oust Choiseul and his friends from the positions they occupied, and take them themselves.

He discussed this matter with his nephew, the Duc d’Aiguillon who, realising that this would mean great political advancement for himself, considered it an excellent idea.

‘Our first duty,’ said Richelieu, ‘is to show ourselves agreeable to the favourite. Not too agreeable, you understand. Distantly so. But we are eager to be her friend. We sympathise with her against the churlish Choiseul. We will sound Vauguyon. You know how he loathes Choiseul and longs to see him dismissed.’

The Duc d’Aiguillon agreed, and the campaign began.

It was not difficult to make friends with Madame du Barry, because she was ready to bestow her smiles on any who asked for them and, being delighted with the manner in which her life was going, she bore no rancour towards anyone. She had even tried to soothe the fury of the Duc de Choiseul.

He had been quite insulting. ‘Madame,’ he had said, ‘it is useless for you try your wiles on me.
My
friends are ladies.’

She was temporarily angry; then she shrugged aside her anger. ‘Poor old Duc,’ she said to Fanchon, ‘he is worried about me, is he not?’

Fanchon advised caution, but Jeanne was not by nature cautious; and Fanchon was mollified to some extent by the friendly overtures of Richelieu and the Duc d’Aiguillon.

‘Not,’ said Fanchon, ‘that we do not understand the motive behind this show of friendship. But friends, no matter how they come, are welcome.’

Richelieu, on his way to the King’s Chapel, saw the Duc de Choiseul ahead of him.

The rain had started to come down heavily and Richelieu, who had suspected a sudden shower, had armed himself with an umbrella. Choiseul who was not similarly provided was caught in the downpour.

Richelieu drew level with Choiseul.

‘Allow me,’ he said, his eyes gleaming, ‘to offer you the shelter of my umbrella.’

Choiseul surveyed Richelieu with that air of amused tolerance he often showed towards those whom he suspected of being his enemies, and who – so he wished to convey – worried him no more than a fly buzzing about him.

‘That is good of you,’ he murmured.

As together they walked towards the chapel several people noticed them, and both were aware of the amused glances.

‘What do they think?’ murmured Choiseul, ‘seeing us two thus linked together?’

‘They think we are two heads under one bonnet?’

‘Ah,’ said Choiseul, ‘I have heard it said that two heads can be better than one.’

‘I am sure,’ answered Richelieu, ‘that there is truth in that statement.’

They entered the chapel and attended the service.

When they came out the sun was shining and many courtiers kept within earshot of the two Ducs because the affair of the umbrella had been astonishing and it was believed that it could only mean a
rapprochement
between these two rivals.

If Richelieu joined forces with Choiseul and they stood together against Madame du Barry, even adored as she was by the King, she would have a very stormy passage ahead of her.

Richelieu gave the Duc his sly smile. Choiseul responded. His voice rang out clearly: ‘I am grateful to you for keeping me dry. Now the weather is fair, and I need not sue for further favours. And my way does not lie in the same direction as yours.’

Richelieu replied: ‘You are right, Monsieur de Choiseul, the weather is fair indeed, and therefore you do not need the protection I can offer. Should it change however, you may depend upon me. I am your good friend.’

The words seemed fraught with significance. They could mean that Richelieu and Choiseul were joining forces. On the other hand they could have been spoken ironically; and considering the nature of the two Ducs this seemed more likely.

Richelieu went immediately to the King.

‘Sire,’ he said, ‘you are the happiest of God’s creatures on this showery day. You are in love, and the object of your love has more than good looks, she has good temper. Forgive the presumption, Sire, but you are not only the happiest King but the happiest man in the world.’

Love had brought a little naïvety back to Louis’ character and Richelieu was reminded of the young boy he remembered, married at fifteen to a Queen whom he had then believed to be the most beautiful woman in the world.

Now he smiled at Richelieu, pleased because he liked to hear Madame du Barry praised.

‘There is one little lack which Your Majesty must adjust. This charming lady is always relegated to the secret apartments, and is therefore debarred from enjoying Your Majesty’s company on all occasions. Thus will it be, Sire, until the lady is presented.’

The King laid his hand on Richelieu’s arm.

‘You have spoken my thoughts aloud,’ he said. ‘I intend Madame du Barry to be presented in the near future.’

Richelieu’s smile was very sly indeed. He heard his own voice echoing in his memory – You may depend upon it, Monsieur de Choiseul, I am your good friend.

The Duchesse de Gramont stormed into her brother’s apartments.

‘So now,’ she said, ‘she is to be presented at Court. They will be bringing in the fishwives from Les Halles and presenting them at Court next. Brother, this must not happen.’

‘We must take every step to prevent it.’

The Duchesse gripped her brother’s arm. ‘Once she is presented, she will be as Madame de Pompadour. She will take charge of affairs. We rose to our present position because the Pompadour was our friend. What will happen to us when we have another, as powerful as Pompadour . . . our enemy!’

‘This woman is no Pompadour. For all her
bourgeoise
origins Pompadour was an intelligent woman. This woman has nothing but her health, her good looks and her vulgarity.’

‘But the King is older, do not forget. He is in his dotage.’

‘Sister, we will fight this woman. Think how far we have come. We have stood firm against Prussia and Britain. Shall we fail at the whim of Madame du Barry?’

‘I fear her more than all the states of Europe.’

‘You lose heart too quickly. We will have her dismissed in a few weeks. But we must go warily . . . step by step. This presentation must not take place.’

‘You know, do you not, that Richelieu is standing behind her?’

‘Richelieu! That double-faced old rogue. But he is an old man.’

‘D’Aiguillon supports him.’

‘D’Aiguillon! The brave soldier! D’Aiguillon the fool. What are you thinking of, sister, to consider such a man?’

‘I fear, brother, that they are beginning to form a party around her. You can depend upon it, the King will support those who support her.’

‘I admit that could happen. But it must not. While she has not been presented and cannot be openly acknowledged she is no great danger. But it is of the utmost importance that she shall never be presented.’

‘The King has determined on it. Richelieu and d’Aiguillon support it. And she is naturally eager for it. I cannot see how it will be avoided.’

‘Then you do not know your brother as well as I thought you did, sister. We could implore the King not to commit this folly, and he would not listen to us. But if ridicule were our advocate it might be different. We might shame the King into forbidding the presentation although we could not persuade him to take such a step.’