“A monsieur Ledoux.”
“Ah, I know the fellow. His bad reputation has reached me. It must be stopped at last.”
So saying, Louis XV went to the chimney, and pulled the bell-rope with so much vehemence that ten persons answered it at once.
“Send for the duc de la Vrillière; if he be not suitably attired let him come in his night-gown, no matter so that he appear quickly.”
On hearing an order given in this manner a stranger might have supposed the king crazy, and not intent on imprisoning a miserable libeller. I interceded in his favor, but Louis XV, delighted at an opportunity of playing the king at a small cost, told me that it was no person’s business, and he would be dictated to by no one. I was silent, reserving myself until another opportunity when I could undertake the defence of the poor devil.
The duc de la Vrillière arrived, not in a dressing-gown, as the king had authorized, but in magnificent costume. He piqued himself on his expenditure, and always appeared superbly attired, altho’ the splendor of his apparel could not conceal the meanness of his look. He was the oldest secretary of state, and certainly was the least skilful, least esteemed, least considered. Some time after his death some one said of him in the presence of the duc d’Ayen, that he had been an unfortunate man, for he had been all his life the butt of public hatred and universal contempt. “Rather say,” replied the duke, “that he has been a fortunate man; for if justice had been rendered to him according to his deserts, he would have been hanged at least a dozen times.”
The duc d’Ayen was right: M. de la Vrillière was a brazen-faced rogue; a complete thief, without dignity, character, or heart. His cupidity was boundless: the lettres de cachet emanated from his office, and he carried on an execrable trade in them. If any person wished to get rid of a father, brother, or husband, they only had to apply to M. de la Vrillière. He sold the king’s signature to all who paid ready money for it. This man inspired me with an invincible horror and repugnance. For his part, as I was not disgusting, he contented himself with hating me; he was animated against me by his old and avaricious mistress, madame de Langeac, alias Subutin. Langeac could not endure me. She felt that it was better to be the mistress of Louis XV than that of the petit la Vrillière , for so her lover was called at court. I knew that she was no friend of mine, and that her lover sided with the Choiseuls against me; and was consequently the more delighted to see the little scoundrel come to receive the order for avenging me. He entered with an air of embarrassment; and whilst he made me a salute as low as to the king, this latter, in a brief severe tone, ordered him to send the sieur Ledoux to Saint Lazare forthwith. He departed without reply, and half an hour afterwards returned, to say that it was done. The king then said to him,
“Do you know this lady?”
“No, sire.”
“Well, I desire you henceforward to have the greatest consideration for her as my best friend, and whoever wishes to prove his zeal for me, will honor and cherish her.”