Memoirs of the Comtesse du Barry | Page 6

of his
complaint--Consequences of this disclosure
CHAPTER XLIII
Terror of the king--A complication--Filial piety of the princesses-- Last
interview between madame du Barry and Louis XV--Conversation with
the marechale de Mirepoix--The chancellor Maupeou--The
fragment--Comte Jean
CHAPTER XLIV
The duc d'Aiguillon brings an order for the immediate departure of
madame du Barry--The king's remarks recapitulated--The countess
holds a privy council--Letter to madame de Mirepoix and the ducs de
Cosse and d'Aiguillon--Night of departure--Ruel--Visit from madame
de Forcalquier
CHAPTER XLV
The duc d'Aiguillon's first letter--The marechale de Mirepoix --A
second letter from the duc d'Aiguillon--Numerous visitors
CHAPTER XLVI
A third letter from the duke--The king receives extreme unction--
Letter from madame Victoire to the dauphin--M. de Machault--A

promenade with the duc de Cosse--Kind attention from the prince des
Deux Pouts--A fourth letter from the duc d'Aiguillon--Comte Jean bids
me farewell--M. d'Aiguillon's fifth letter, containing an account of the
death of Louis XV--The duc de la Vrilliere--The cachet>--Letter to the queen--Departure for the abbey of Dames>
Special Introduction by Robert Arnot
Up to the time of the Du Barry the court of France had been the stage
where the whole political and human drama of that country was enacted.
Under Louis XV the drama had been transformed into parades--parades
which were of as much importance to the people as to those who took
part in them. The spectators, hitherto silent, now began to hiss and be
moved. The scene of the comedy was changed, and the play was
continued among the spectators. The old theatre became an
ante-chamber or a dressing-room, and was no longer important except
in connection with the Cardinal de Bernis and the Duc de Richelieu, or
Madame de Pompadour and Madame du Barry.
The monarchy had still a step to take towards its downfall. It had
already created the (Louis XV's seraglio), but had not
yet descended to the Parisian house of prostitution. It made this descent
leaning on the arm of Madame du Barry. Madame du Barry was a
moral sister to Manon Lescaut, but instead of taking herself off to
Louisiana to repent, she plunged into the golden whirlpool at Versailles
as a finish to her career. Could the coaches of a King mean more than
the ordinary carriage of an abandoned girl?
Jeanne Vaubernier--known in the bagnios by the name of
Mademoiselle Lange--was born at Vaucouleurs, as was Jeanne d'Arc.
Better still, this later Jeanne said openly at Versailles--dared she say
otherwise?-- that she was descended in a straight line from the
illustrious, the venerated, the august, sacred, national maid, Jeanne.*
"Why did Du Barry come to Paris?'" says Leon Gozlan in that account
of the Château de Lucienne which makes a brilliant and learned chapter
in the history of France. "Does one ever know precisely why things are
done? She obeyed the magnet which attracts to Paris all who in

themselves have a title to glory, to celebrity, or to misfortune. Du Barry
had a pretty, provincial face, bright and charming, a face astonished at
everything, hair soft and ash-colored, blue eyes, veiled and half open,
and a skin fair with rose tints. She was a child of destiny. Who could
have said, when she crossed the great town in her basket cart, which
rolled lazily along on its massive, creaking wheels, that some day she
would have equipages more beautiful than any of those which covered
her with mud in passing, and on her arms more laces and diamonds
than any of these ladies attended by footmen in liveries?"
*A claim which blithely ignored the fact that Jeanne d'Arc had no
children.--Gutenberg editor
When Jeanne left the provinces to come to Paris, she found her native
country. She was granted the freedom of the city, and expanded in her
joy like a delicate plant transplanted into a hothouse. She found herself
at home for the first time; and felt that she could rule as a despot over
all frequenters of the streets. She learned fashion and love at one and
the same time. Gourdan had a hat made for her, and, as a reward,
initiated her into the customs. But she was called to other destinies.
One day, when she was walking in the Tuileries, a lunatic--and lunatics
have second sight--asked her favor when she should become queen. Du
Barry said to herself: "This man is mad." But then she thought of the
Pompadour, blushed--it was the only time-- and turned her eyes
towards Versailles.
But Versailles was an unhoped-for shore to such a girl as this, a girl
known to all Paris. Would the King care to be the lover of one who had
ruled all his courtesans? Who could say? The King often wearied of
what he had. Had not a poet already been found who compared