“We must think of some means of keeping up your spirits,” answered Louis XV. “As for your story, maréchal, it does not surprise me; things equally inexplicable are continually taking place. I read in a letter addressed by Philip V, of Spain, to Louis XIV, ‘that the spirit of Philip II, founder of the Escurial, wanders at certain intervals around that building.’ Philip V affirms that he himself witnessed the apparition of the spectre of the king.”
At this moment supper was announced. “Come, gentlemen,” said I, “let us seek to banish these gloomy ideas around our festive board.” Upon which the king conducted me to the supper-room, the rest of the company following us. Spite of all my efforts to be gay, and induce others to be so likewise, the conversation still lingered upon this dismal subject.
“Heaven grant,” exclaimed the chancellor, “that I may not soon have to dread a visit from the ghost of the deceased parliament; however, if such were the case, it would not prevent my sleeping.”
“Oh!” cried the king, “these long-robed gentlemen have often more effectually robbed me of sleep than all the spectres in the world could do; yet one night—”
“Well, sire,” said I, seeing that Louis was silent, “and what happened to you that night?”
“Nothing that I can repeat,” answered Louis XV, glancing around with a mournful look.
A dead silence followed, which lasted several minutes; and this evening, which was to usher my day of triumph, passed away in the most inconceivable dullness. What most contributed to render me uneasy was the reflection, that, at the very moment when we had freed ourselves of our enemies, we were ignorant who would fill their vacant places. This was an error, and a great one. My friends would not listen to the nomination of the Comte de Broglie, the Comte de Maillebois, the duc de la Vauguyon, any more than either M. de Soubise or M. de Castries. The abbé Terray, having upon one occasion proposed the maréchal duc de Richelieu, he very narrowly escaped having his face scratched by M. d’Aiguillon, who cared very little for his dear uncle; but I have unintentionally wandered from the thread of my narrative; I will therefore resume it at once.
I had hoped that the king would this night have retired to his own apartment, and that I should have been enabled to hold a secret council with M. de Maupeou, and the ducs de la Vrillière and d’Aiguillon; but no such thing. Imagining, no doubt, that I should be kept awake by my fear of ghosts, his majesty insisted upon remaining with me, and I was compelled to acquiesce. He passed a very agitated night, much more occupied with the des Choiseuls than me; he could think of nothing, speak of nothing, but the sensation which their disgrace would produce; he seemed to dread his family, the nobility, the nation, Europe, and the whole world. I strove to re-assure him, and to inspire him with fresh courage; and, when he quitted me in the morning, I felt convinced that he would not again alter his determination.
As soon as Louis XV had left me, Comte Jean entered. Although concealed behind the curtain, and apparently not on the best terms with me, my brother-in-law nevertheless directed my actions, and gave me most excellent advice. It was not long ere the duc d’Aiguillon arrived; he had seen M. de Maupeou during the night, and learned from him the exile of the late minister, but beyond that fact he knew nothing. He inquired of me, with much uneasiness, whether anything had been decided in his behalf. I replied, that the king was as yet undecided in his choice of ministers, but that, if the duc d’Aiguillon came into office, he would, in all probability, be nominated to the administration of foreign affairs: the direction of the war-office had been my noble friend’s ardent desire.
Whilst we were thus conversing together on the 24th of December, 1770, eleven o’clock struck; and we could, from the windows, perceive M. de la Vrillière taking his way towards that part of the building occupied by M. de Choiseul when at the castle. This latter was in conversation with M. Conzié, bishop of Arras, when the arrival of the duc de la Vrillière, bearing the king’s commands, was signified to him. The prelate, not doubting but the mission related to affairs of importance, took his leave; de la Vrillière then presented the lettre de cachet, accompanying it with some remarks of his own upon the talents of the minister, and his regret at being selected for so unpleasant an office. “A truce to your feigned regrets, my lord duke,” replied the disgraced minister, sarcastically, “I am well assured my dismissal could not have been brought me by hands more ready to discharge the trust than yours.” Saying this, M. de Choiseul placed his credentials in the hands of the duke, and slightly bowing, turned his back upon him, as though he had forgotten his presence. M. de Choiseul then retired to summon his sister, to communicate to her and his wife the misfortune which had befallen him: he then set out for Paris, to make the necessary preparations for removing to Chanteloup. There an officer from the king, charged to accompany him to his place of exile, gave him his majesty’s orders that he should see no person, and receive no visits.