“MADAM,-You have lost your best friend and I an excellent master: at three clock this day his majesty breathed his last. I can scarcely describe to you the horrors of his death-bed. The princesses Adélaïde and Sophie braved the frightful contagion to the last and never quitted him till the last spark had flown. Alas! with the exception of themselves, every attendant openly expressed their weariness and disgust.
“For several days the physicians have forbidden the windows to be opened; and those condemned to inhale the pestilential vapor of the room vainly sought to counteract them by every powerful fumigation. Alas, madam, what is a king when he can no longer grasp the sceptre? How great a leveller is death! The prelates abandoned the sick chamber, and left a simple curé of the chapel to take their place; the lords in waiting and other officers shrunk from the duties of their office, and with their eyes fixed on a time-piece eagerly awaited the hour which should free them from it. The princesses, who perceived this impatience, durst make no complaint, while the king, occasionally recovering his senses, uttered broken sentences, expressive of the religious terror which had seized his mind. At length, at a few minutes past three o’clock, Lemonnier, in his capacity of first physician, said, after laying his hand upon the heart of the patient, and placing a glass before his lips, ‘The king is dead.’ At these words all present strove with indecent haste to quit the chamber; not a single sigh, not one regret was heard. The princesses were carried insensible to their apartments.
“The extinction of a bougie which had been placed in a certain window, announced the accession of the dauphin ere the duc d’Aumont had informed him of the decease of his august grandsire.”
This letter wrung from me some bitter tears, as well for the king, who had so lavishly bestowed his affections upon me, as for myself. What would now be my fate? Alas! I knew not; all my brilliant prospects were buried in the coffin of my late protector.
The duc d’Aiguillon arrived at Ruel about midnight; he, as well as the other ministers who had been about the late monarch during his last illness, being prohibited by etiquette from following the present monarch to Choisy, whither the whole of the royal family had retired for a few days. He told us that the duc d’Aumont, having commanded La Martinière to proceed with the embalming of the royal corpse, that physician replied, “Certainly, my lord, it shall be done if you command it, but, in that case, the duties of your office compel you to receive his majesty’s bowels in a golden dish; and I protest, that such is the state of the body, that of all who may assist at the operation, not one will survive eight days. It is for your grace to determine what shall be done.”
M. d’Aumont thought no more of embalming his late master, but gave orders for the body being immediately placed in a leaden coffin, from which here still issued frightful effluvia.
Up to the moment of my quitting Ruel madame de Mirepoix gave me no token of recollection: I heard that herself and the prince de Beauvau were reconciled, and for her sake I rejoiced at it. No person came near us the whole of the day with the exception of M. de Cossé, and I sat in hourly expectation of some order from court. At length we descried a travelling carriage with six horses, proceeding at a rapid pace up the avenue. “I know that livery,” exclaimed I; “‘tis that of my humble adorer, my obsequious slave, my friend at court, the duc de la Vrillière, commonly called le petit saint. You see that the good soul could not delegate to another the pleasing task of arresting me; but permit me to retire to my apartment; it is fitting he should seek me there if he has any communication to make to me.” The duchess, approved my resolution; and the duc de la Vrillière having been introduced into the salon, after the first compliments, requested to see me, that he might acquaint me with the king’s pleasure.
Mademoiselle du Barry undertook to inform me of the duke’s arrival.
“You were not mistaken, dear sister,” said she; “the duc de la Vrillière is the bearer of the king’s orders respecting you: but compose yourself, I beseech you.”
“Fear not,” said I; “I am as calm as you would have me. Tell the vile dissembler, I mean the duke, I await him.”