“Apropos of dying; I inquired the number of deaths which took place at Chantilly last week; only four, they say! Now I think that number quite sufficient for the size of the place. I walked as far as the village cemetery, which is large and judiciously placed. I must tell you, that one of my footmen has gone to that last journey from which none return: he was a tall, presuming sort of fellow, remarkable for nothing but his impertinence, and the continual scrapes he was forever getting into amongst the soubrettes. However, he met with his death in some sudden brawl. My people sought to conceal this piece of intelligence from me; but having once heard of it, I despatched Flamarens to ascertain in what corner of the cemetery he has been interred.
“The duc de Tresmes talks much of you, and boasts greatly to the honor of your friendship; he has dubbed himself your ‘sapajou’; this is not amiss for a peer of France, and what is still more gratifying, he has assumed a title which, I believe, no one in the kingdom will attempt to dispute his incontestable claim to call his own. Villeroi is all impatience to return to Versailles. The dukes of Richelieu and d’Aiguillon, both uncle and nephew, recommend themselves to your kind recollection. Thus you see you may reckon upon a few devoted and attached friends, even without him, whose hand is busily tracing these lines, and he, I can promise you, is inferior to none in the truest love and affection for you.
“The ladies of whom I would have you be most on your guard are mesdames de C., de B., de P., de G. They really throw themselves in my way till I can call them nothing but fools for their pains; but I must do them the justice to say that they are less ambitious than you, and so that they could rob you of your place would care very little whether I could offer them my heart with the other honors to which they aspire; in fact, ‘tis time we were together again, for the people here seem determined to profit by my stay amongst them. My cousin entertains us magnificently, and pleasure succeeds pleasure in a continual round of enchantment: he tells me he has others still more charming in store against the time when you will honor him with your presence. Am I right in promising this will be ere very long? Adieu, what a long letter have I written you. I will now conclude by bestowing an imaginary kiss on that lovely face, which must satisfy me till I have the felicity of seeing you again.
“And now, my dear friend and fairest countess, I will end my lengthened epistle by praying God to have you ever in His holy care and keeping.”
The receipt of this letter afforded me the liveliest pleasure, and I wrote to the king regularly every night and morning. I might here introduce a specimen of my own epistolary style, but I will not; for altho’ the whimsical and extravagant things my pen gave utterance to were exactly to the king’s taste, they might surprise you; but my royal correspondent loved the wild and bizarre turn of my expressions, and I fulfilled his wishes; perhaps it was not the only instance in which I gratified his inclination.
My cousin, the chancellor of France, had remained to keep me company instead of joining the party at Chantilly. My cousin, say you, and by what right or title could M. de Maupeou become such? I will tell you. First of all he only aspired to the honor of relationship, but afterwards, turning over the archives of his family, he found the most incontestable proofs of his belonging to the ancient families of the du Barry; and full of joy, he hurried to me, unrolling at my feet his genealogical tree, to the great amusement of comte Jean and my sisters-in-law, who, after a long examination, declared that he was justly entitled to the appellation of first cousin; from that period he always addressed me cousin, which I flattered him by returning whenever I was in the humor.
About this period I was the happy instrument in saving from death a young girl whose judges (as will be seen) were about to sentence her to be hanged without fully understanding whether she were innocent or guilty. This unfortunate creature was a young and pretty country girl, whose worthy pastor, the curé de Liancourt, had availed himself of the influence he possessed, and of the advantages of his authority over the poor creature’s mind, to seduce her from the paths of virtue. Unfortunately, just at the time when she expected to produce a living witness of their amour, and when she trusted to the cares of the curé to procure for her those comforts her unfortunate situation required, the author of her shame was suddenly carried off by a violent death, and the wretched girl, either thro’ ignorance or the shame of having listened to the illicit passion of a priest, neglected to make any of those formal declarations required by the law, and gave birth to a dead infant. The justice of the village, informed of her fault, caused her to be arrested, and recorded against her sentence of death, a decision which was afterwards approved by parliament.
The poor girl was in this extremity when, happily for her, M. de Mandeville, a worthy man from either Normandy or Picardy, who had served in the black musketeers, resolved upon attempting the revocation of the severe sentence which had been passed upon her, by addressing the king thro’ my mediation; he accordingly followed me to Marly, where I then was, and lost no time in forwarding to me the following billet:—
“MADAME,—Beauty has ever been found the inseparable companion of goodness; to yours I would appeal to obtain the favor of an immediate audience. My reasons for requesting it are not to solicit either place or pension, but to save the life of an erring creature whose crime has been that of ignorance. I await your reply with the most lively impatience, and have the honor to remain, etc., etc.”
This note puzzled me excessively, however I gave orders for the immediate introduction of M. de Mandeville, whose appearance was even more prepossessing than his note; he looked and spoke like an honorable man endowed with that sensibility so precious and so rare; he put into my hands the petition, whilst he explained to me the particulars relative to it, and I instantly wrote to the chancellor the following note, of which a thousand copies were taken in the course of the day. Altho’ it has been many times in print, I shall offer no apologies for again submitting it to your perusal.