Madame Victoire’s favourite was the Comte de Provence. She found that he had the most sense and brains, and prophesied that he would repair the faults his brothers would commit.

The King, after the death of Mme. de Pompadour, of whom he had become tired, lived for some years without a reigning favourite, in spite of the attempts of various ladies of the court to attain to that post. His life was passed in hunting, in the festivities of the court, and in a constant succession of intrigues and liaisons for which the notorious Parc aux cerfs was a sort of preserve. His next and last recognised and powerful mistress was Mme. Du Barry.

Amongst other contrasts to be remarked between Louis XIV. and Louis XV., was the opposite way in which they treated their numerous illegitimate children.

Those of the Grand Monarque were brought up in almost royal state, magnificently dowered, raised to a rank next to the princes of the blood, amongst whom they were generally married, and with whom they kept up constant quarrels and rivalry.

The King regarded them with nearly, if not quite, as great affection as his legitimate children, and even tried, though in vain, to alter the laws of succession in their favour, and allow them to inherit the crown failing his lawful issue.

This, however, neither the Princes of the blood, the nobles, nor the French nation would stand, and the project had to be relinquished; but the rapacity and outrageous arrogance and pretensions of “les bâtards,” as they were called, had aroused such irritation and hatred that Louis XV. took care to go into the opposite extreme. Unlike his predecessor, he cared nothing for the children of his innumerable liaisons, which were of a lower and more degraded type than those of his great-grandfather. He seldom recognised or noticed these children, made only a very moderate provision for them, and allowed them to be of no importance whatever.

FOOTNOTES:

[66] “Créquy Souvenirs.”

[67] The fascinating volumes, called “Souvenirs de la Marquise de Créquy,” are said not to be by any means entirely written by that celebrated woman. But they contain much curious information and many amusing anecdotes of that day, and present a vivid picture of the eighteenth century in France.