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| committer | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-06-14 00:58:55 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f57f44 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text +*.htm text +*.html text +*.png binary +*.jpg binary +*.svg text +*.pdf binary +*.bmp binary +*.zip binary +*.midi binary +*.mp3 binary diff --git a/78855-0.txt b/78855-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a5e8c2b --- /dev/null +++ b/78855-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16277 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78855 *** + + + + +[Illustration: _The Countess de la Motte._ + +_From the Portrait after Robinet prefixed to the Life of the Countess de +la Motte by herself._ + +E. Chavanne sc.] + + + + + THE STORY OF + THE DIAMOND NECKLACE + + TOLD IN DETAIL FOR THE FIRST TIME + BY THE AID OF CONTEMPORARY MEMOIRS, ORIGINAL + LETTERS, AND OFFICIAL AND OTHER DOCUMENTS; + + AND COMPRISING + + A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF THE COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE, PRETENDED + CONFIDANT OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE, WITH PARTICULARS OF THE CAREERS + OF THE OTHER ACTORS IN THIS REMARKABLE DRAMA. + + BY HENRY VIZETELLY, + AUTHOR OF “BERLIN UNDER THE NEW EMPIRE,” ETC. + + Illustrated with an exact representation of the Diamond + Necklace, from a contemporary drawing, and a portrait of the + Countess de la Motte, engraved on steel. + + Third Edition, Revised. + + LONDON: + _VIZETELLY & CO., 10 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND_. + 1881. + + [_All rights reserved._] + + _S. Cowan & Co., Strathmore Press, Perth._ + + + + + TO A. E. V. + + THE LIGHT OF MY HOME, THE HAPPINESS OF MY LIFE, + + I DEDICATE, + + WITH MUCH AFFECTION, + + THIS RECORD OF AN ERRING WOMAN’S CAREER. + + H. V. + + PARIS, 1867. + + + + +ADVERTISEMENT. + + +“THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE,” which met with marked success at +the time of its first appearance—two editions in an expensive form +having speedily become exhausted—has been out of print for some years. +The author was unwilling that it should be re-issued until it had been +subjected to a complete revision, and this more pressing occupations have +obliged him continually to postpone. Having at length found the necessary +leisure, he has thoroughly revised the work, availing himself of a new +study of the documents preserved in the French National Archives for +this purpose, and incorporating in the present volume such additional +facts relative to his subject as the investigations of recent years have +brought to light. If the work in its new form meets with anything like +the favour which was accorded to the early editions, the author will feel +himself amply rewarded for the extra labour he has expended in rendering +it more complete. + + LONDON, _October, 1880_. + +Several critics of the first edition of this work took the author to +task for regarding as genuine the autograph letters of Marie-Antoinette +and others, comprised in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches, and +expressed their surprise at his ignorance of the controversy which had +taken place on the subject of their authenticity, and had resulted, they +said, in the almost universal condemnation of these documents by both +French and German critics. The author was not only fully acquainted with +all the details of the controversy in question, but he had carefully +examined the letters themselves—not their contents merely, but the +character of the handwriting, and had studied its variations at different +periods of Marie-Antoinette’s career; and he had come to the conclusion, +in common with the majority of French writers who are regarded as +authorities on matters pertaining to the history of France during the +latter half of the eighteenth century, that the impugned documents are, +with certain exceptions, perfectly genuine. The above remarks, it should +be noted, apply exclusively to the autograph letters in M. Feuillet de +Conches’ collection, and not to the exceedingly dubious letters published +by Comte d’Hunolstein. + + + + +PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. + + +The great scandal of the Diamond Necklace, which to the clear vision of +Goethe presaged the coming Revolution, and in which the quick-witted +Talleyrand saw the overthrow of the French throne, possesses an interest +akin to that of the French Revolution itself. The story is one of which +the world does not seem to tire, for it has been told scores upon +scores of times, and more or less recently, by historians, biographers, +essayists, memoir-writers, anecdotists, novelists, and dramatists, and in +well-nigh every European language. In the form in which it appears in the +Memorials and Judicial Examinations of the parties accused of complicity +in the fraud, it has been pronounced “the greatest lie of the eighteenth +century,” and numerous active brains have essayed to unravel its tangled +web of truth and falsehood; nevertheless, there are many persons who +still think that a certain mystery envelops the transaction which all the +research hitherto bestowed upon it has failed to satisfactorily clear up. + +The writer of the present work has diligently studied all the +contemporary evidence, bearing in the smallest degree on the subject, +which an active search enabled him to discover, and the bulk of which he +has availed himself of in the course of the subjoined narrative. This +includes, for example, unpublished autograph letters and documents, +written either by actual actors in the drama, or else by persons +intimately associated with it, and derived chiefly from the valuable +collection of M. Feuillet de Conches; the official records of the +judicial proceedings to which the affair give rise; the various memorials +put forth on behalf of the accused, and the memoirs subsequently +issued by them, including the exceedingly scarce Mémoire by Rétaux de +Villette, which the present writer is the first to quote from, and the +curious Autobiography written in his old age by Count de la Motte; the +discussions in the Paris Parliament; and the numerous memoirs penned +by persons living at the time, some of which, and these of the highest +importance—such as the interesting Memoirs of Count Beugnot—having been +only recently made public, were not at the command of previous writers. +In addition to the foregoing sources of information may be mentioned +the different biographies, and the various critical disquisitions of +historians and essayists in which the subject has been so exceedingly +fruitful, and of which considerable use will be found to have been made. + +With such materials at his command, the writer has been able to tell +the story for the first time in all its fulness, and as he believes +more in accordance with the truth, in small matters as well as great, +than any previous narrative of the transaction. He conceives that he +has completely exonerated the French queen from the slightest suspicion +of complicity in the miserable fraud. He has made a point of supplying +missing dates to the more trivial as well as to all the more important +incidents, of vouching every statement of the smallest consequence, and +of giving the very language of the witnesses to the various facts which +they are called upon to prove. He has, moreover, visited most of the +scenes with which the chief incidents of the story are mixed up, and +has described them with more or less minuteness in the course of his +narrative. + +It is proper to mention, with regard to some few of the authorities +referred to in the following pages, such as Madame Campan’s and +Weber’s “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” Madame de la Motte’s “Mémoires +Justificatifs,” and the “Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro,” that the +French and English versions of these works have been indiscriminately +used, and that the references given, if they do not apply to the one, +will be found to belong to the other edition of the works in question. + + + + +AUTHORITIES REFERRED TO IN THIS WORK. + + + Mémoire des joailliers Böhmer et Bassenge, du 12 Août, 1785. + Paris, 1786. + + * * * * * + + Mémoire pour Louis-René-Édouard de Rohan, cardinal, contre + M. le Procureur-Général, en présence de la dame de la Motte. + Paris, 1786. + + Pièces justificatives pour M. le Cardinal de Rohan, + déclarations authentiques selon la forme Anglaise. Paris, 1786. + + Requête au Parlement, les chambres assemblées, par M. le + Cardinal de Rohan. Paris, 1786. + + Réflexions rapides pour M. le Cardinal de Rohan, sur le + sommaire de la dame de la Motte. Paris, 1786. + + * * * * * + + Mémoire pour la dame Jeanne de Saint-Remy de Valois, épouse du + Comte de la Motte. Paris, 1786. + + Réponse pour la Comtesse de Valois-Lamotte au Mémoire du Comte + Cagliostro. Paris, 1786. + + Sommaire pour la Comtesse de Valois-Lamotte accusée, contre M. + le Procureur-Général, accusateur, en présence de M. le Cardinal + de Rohan et autres co-accusés. Paris, 1786. + + Mémoires justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte, écrits par + elle-même. London, 1789. + + Ditto, English translation. + + * * * * * + + Mémoire pour la demoiselle le Guay d’Oliva, fille mineure, + émancipée d’âge, accusée, contre M. le Procureur-Général. + Paris, 1786. + + Seconde mémoire et pièces justificatives, pour Mademoiselle le + Guay d’Oliva. Paris, 1786. + + * * * * * + + Requête pour le sieur Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette, ancien + gendarme, accusé, contre M. le Procureur-Général. Paris, 1786. + + * * * * * + + Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro, accusé, contre M. le + Procureur-Général, accusateur, en présence de M. le Cardinal de + Rohan, de la Comtesse de la Motte et autres, co-accusés, Paris, + 1786. + + Requête au Parlement, les chambres assemblées, pour le Comte de + Cagliostro, signifiée à M. le Procureur-Général, le 24 Février, + 1786. Paris, 1786. + + Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro contre Maître Chesnon fils + et le Sieur de Launay. Paris, 1786. + + Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro. London, 1786. + + * * * * * + + Mémoire pour Jean-Charles-Vincent de Bette d’Étienville, + bourgeois de Saint-Omer en Artois. Paris, 1786. + + Deuxième Mémoire pour le sieur Jean-Charles-Vincent de Bette + d’Étienville. Paris, 1786. + + Collection complète de tous les Mémoires qui ont paru dans la + fameuse affaire du Collier, avec toutes les pièces secrètes qui + y ont rapport et qui n’ont pas paru. Paris, 1786. + + Compte-rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement relativement à + l’affaire de M. le Cardinal de Rohan. Paris, 1786. + + Jugement rendu par le Parlement de Paris sur l’affaire du + Collier de diamants, avec le détail de ce qui s’est passé aux + séances du Parlement les 30 et 31 Mai, 1786, et les ordres du + Roi après le jugement. Paris, 1786. + + Archives de la République. Series X², Nos. 2576, 18576. Series + Y, Nos. 11514, 12076, 13125. Procès du Collier. + + Unpublished autograph letters and documents relative to the + Diamond Necklace affair, in the collection of M. Feuillet de + Conches. + + * * * * * + + The Life of Jeanne de Saint-Remy de Valois, heretofore Countess + de la Motte, written by herself. 2 vols. London, 1791. + + Authentic adventures of the Countess de la Motte. London, 1787. + + Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte-Valois, publiés d’après + le manuscrit autographe, par L. Lacour. Paris, 1858. + + Mémoire historique des intrigues de la Cour et de ce qui s’est + passé entre la Reine, le Comte d’Artois, le Cardinal de Rohan, + Madame de Polignac, Madame de la Motte, Cagliostro, et MM. de + Breteuil et de Vergennes, par Rétaux de Villette. Venise, 1790. + + Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire des événements de la fin du + XVIIIᵉ siècle, par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. Paris. + + Marie-Antoinette et le procès du Collier d’après la procédure + instruite devant le Parlement de Paris, par E. Campardon, + archiviste des archives de l’Empire. Paris, 1863. + + Mémoires sur la vie privée de Marie-Antoinette, par Madame + Campan. 2 vols. London, 1823. + + Ditto, English translation. + + Mémoires concernant Marie-Antoinette, Reine de France, par J. + Weber. 2 vols. London, 1805. + + Ditto, English translation. + + Histoire de Marie-Antoinette, par E. et J. de Goncourt. Paris, + 1863. + + La Vraie Marie-Antoinette, par M. de Lescure. Paris, 1863. + + Maria-Theresia und Marie-Antoinette, von A. Ritter von Arneth. + Paris und Wien, 1865. + + Lettres et documents inédits de Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, + et Madame Elisabeth, par M. Feuillet de Conches, 3 vols. Paris, + 1864. + + Correspondance inédite de Marie-Antoinette, par le Comte P. + Vogt d’Hunolstein. Paris, 1864. + + Procès de Marie-Antoinette, ci-devant Reine des Français. + Paris, 1865. + + Correspondance secrète inédite sur Louis XVI., + Marie-Antoinette, la cour et la ville, de 1777 à 1792, publiée + d’après les manuscrits de la Bibliothèque Impériale de + Saint-Pétersbourg, par M. de Lescure, 2 vols. Paris, 1866. + + Les derniers jours de Trianon, par M. Capefigue. Paris, 1866. + + Mémoires du Comte Beugnot, ancien ministre, vol. i. Paris, 1866. + + Mémoires de Mademoiselle Bertin. Paris. + + Mémoires de M. le Baron de Besenval, écrits par lui-même, vol. + iii. Paris, 1805. + + Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche, vol. i. Paris, 1853. + + Mémoires posthumes du Feld-Maréchal Comte de Stedingk, par le + Comte de Bjornsjerna, vol. iii. Paris, 1844. + + Souvenirs de la Marquise de Créqui, par le Comte de Courchamps. + Paris, 1834-5. + + Mémoires relatifs à la Famille Royale de France, pendant la + Révolution accompagnés d’anecdotes inconnues et authentiques + sur les princes contemporains et autres personnages célèbres de + cette époque. Publiés pour la première fois d’après le journal, + les lettres, et les entretiens de la Princesse de Lamballe, par + une dame de qualité attaché au service confidentiel de cette + infortunée princesse, vol. i. Paris et Strasbourg, 1826. + + La Princesse de Lamballe, Marie-Thérèse-Louise de + Savoie-Carignan: Sa Vie—Sa Mort; d’après des documents inédits + ou peu connus, par M. de Lescure. Paris, 1864. + + Mémoires secrets pour servir à l’histoire de la dernière année + du règne de Louis XVI., par A. F. Bertrand de Molleville, + ministre d’état à cette époque, vol. ii. Londres et Paris, 1797. + + Mémoires historiques et politiques du règne de Louis XVI., par + l’Abbé Soulavie, vol. vi. Paris, 1801. + + Histoire de la décadence de la monarchie Française, par l’Abbé + Soulavie, vol. iii. Paris, 1803. + + Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI., contenant tout ce qui + concerne ce monarque, sa famille, et la Reine, etc., par M. + Nougaret, vol. i. Paris, 1791. + + Correspondance secrète de la cour de Louis XVI. Paris. + + L’Histoire de France pendant le XVIIIᵉ siècle, par C. + Lacretelle, vol. vi. Paris, 1819. + + Louis XVI., par M. Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. Paris, 1851. + + Louis XVI., son administration et ses relations diplomatiques + avec l’Europe, par M. Capefigue, vol. iii. Paris, 1844. + + Correspondance inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier + de Boufflers, de 1778 à 1788. Paris, 1875. + + The Journals and Correspondence of William, Lord Auckland, vol. + i. London, 1860-2. + + Souvenirs de M. Berryer, doyen des avocats de Paris, de 1774 à + 1833, vol. ii. Paris, 1839. + + Cagliostro’s Stammbaum, von Wolfgang von Goethe. + + Mémoires sur les prisons de Paris sous Robespierre, vol. ii. + Paris. + + Les Crimes de Marat et des autres égorgeurs, ou Ma + Résurrection, par P. A. L. Maton de la Varenne. Paris, 1795. + + Histoire de la Révolution Française, par M. Louis Blanc, vol. + ii. Bruxelles. + + The French Revolution, a history; by Thomas Carlyle. 3 vols. + (Leipzig edition), 1851. + + Histoire monarchique et constitutionnelle de la Révolution + Française, par Eugène Labaume, vol. ii. Paris, 1834. + + Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, by Thomas Carlyle, vol. iv. + (Art.—Diamond Necklace). London, 1857. + + Biographie Universelle (Articles—De Rohan and Cagliostro). + + Le Moniteur, No. 220. Paris, 1792. + + Morning Chronicle, Dec. 29, 1786. + + Journal de Paris, Nov. 12, 1831. + + Gentleman’s Magazine, vol. lxi. London, 1791. + + Julie philosophe, ou le bon patriote, vol. ii. London. + + Histoire de Bar-sur-Aube, par L. Chevalier. Bar-sur-Aube, 1851. + + Essais historiques sur la ville de Bar-sur-Aube, publiés + d’après un manuscrit inédit portant la date de 1785, par J. F. + G. Troyes, 1838. + + Letter from the Curé of Bar-sur-Aube, July 17, 1866. + + Saverne et ses environs, par C. G. Klein. Strasbourg, 1849. + + Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles, par J. A. Le Roi. + Versailles, 1854. + + Histoire du Bois de Boulogne, par J. Lobet. Paris, 1856. + + Paris Herself Again, by G. A. Sala. London, 1879. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAP. PAGE + + I. A SCION OF ROYALTY IN TATTERS—“TAKE PITY ON THE ORPHAN + DESCENDANTS OF HENRY II. KING OF FRANCE” 1 + + II. THE SAINT-REMIS OF VALOIS—A TRAMP UP TO THE CAPITAL 3 + + III. MANTUA-MAKER’S APPRENTICE—PENSIONER UNDER THE CROWN—BOARDER + IN A CONVENT 7 + + IV. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE ORDERED, BUT NOT SOLD 13 + + V. AT BAR-SUR-AUBE—COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE 19 + + VI. COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE—IN BARRACKS AT LUNÉVILLE—ON A FIFTH + FLOOR IN PARIS—ENSNARES THE GRAND ALMONER 30 + + VII. OSCILLATES BETWEEN PARIS AND VERSAILLES—SENDS OUT + BEGGING LETTERS AND PETITIONS—FAINTS IN MADAME’S + SALLE D’ATTENTE—DESPAIR 40 + + VIII. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE AGAIN—STILL NOT SOLD 52 + + IX. SOI-DISANT CONFIDANT OF THE QUEEN—AT VERSAILLES AND + LITTLE TRIANON 56 + + X. HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL, COMMENDATOR, GRAND ALMONER, + PRINCE-BISHOP LOUIS-RENÉ-ÉDOUARD DE ROHAN 65 + + XI. PRETENDED MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE CARDINAL AND THE QUEEN—A + FORGER ON THE PREMISES—BILLETS-DOUX BORDERED WITH + “VIGNETTES BLEUES” 72 + + XII. THE COUNTERFEIT QUEEN 79 + + XIII. THE MIDNIGHT INTERVIEW—“YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS” 85 + + XIV. A GOLDEN HARVEST—HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF—BARONESS D’OLIVA + IS GIVEN THE COLD SHOULDER 89 + + XV. GRAND DOINGS AT BAR-SUR-AUBE 96 + + XVI. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS SOLD AT LAST 105 + + XVII. CHARLATAN COUNT CAGLIOSTRO 115 + + XVIII. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS DELIVERED 126 + + XIX. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE VANISHES! 131 + + XX. THE DIAMONDS ARE DISPERSED—COUNT DE LA MOTTE GOES TO + ENGLAND ON BUSINESS 138 + + XXI. THE GATHERING OF THE STORM 153 + + XXII. TWELVE DAYS’ STATE AT BAR-SUR-AUBE 162 + + XXIII. LETTRES-DE-CACHET IN THE ŒIL-DE-BŒUF—IN THE RUE + SAINT-CLAUDE—AND AT BAR-SUR-AUBE 170 + + XXIV. A DREARY DAY AND NIGHT’S DRIVE—THE BASTILLE—A “VALOIS” + SERVED OFF PEWTER 182 + + XXV. EFFECT PRODUCED ON THE PUBLIC MIND BY THESE ARRESTS—THE + ENEMIES OF THE QUEEN 189 + + XXVI. LITTLE TRIANON, AND THE QUEEN’S SOCIETY THERE 195 + + XXVII. CALUMNIES AGAINST THE QUEEN—HER ANIMOSITY AGAINST THE + CARDINAL DE ROHAN 208 + + XXVIII. PREPARATIONS FOR THE TRIAL—CAPTURE OF THE COUNTERFEIT + QUEEN 213 + + XXIX. THE TRIAL: EXAMINATION OF THE ACCUSED 220 + + XXX. THE TRIAL: THE CONFRONTATIONS OF THE ACCUSED WITH EACH + OTHER AND WITH THE WITNESSES 233 + + XXXI. ARREST OF THE FORGER VILLETTE—HIS EXAMINATIONS AND + CONFRONTATIONS 241 + + XXXII. THE CONCIERGERIE—BEFORE THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT, GRAND + CHAMBER, AND “TOURNELLE” 253 + + XXXIII. DEBATE IN THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT—THE SENTENCES 265 + + XXXIV. THE SENTENCES CARRIED OUT—“WHAT IS RESERVED FOR THE + BLOOD OF THE BOURBONS?” 274 + + XXXV. COUNT DE LA MOTTE’S FLIGHT—COLD STEEL AND POISON 284 + + XXXVI. THE SALPÊTRIÈRE—TRUCKLE BED AND PRISON FARE—THE COUNT + THREATENS THE FRENCH COURT 290 + + XXXVII. MYSTERIOUS HINTS GIVEN TO THE COUNTESS TO EFFECT HER + ESCAPE—SHE RESOLVES ON ATTEMPTING IT 298 + + XXXVIII. THE COUNTESS’S ESCAPE—A LAST VISIT TO THE NEIGHBOURHOOD + OF BAR-SUR-AUBE 305 + + XXXIX. IN LONDON—THE COUNTESS GIVES UP FORGERY AND TAKES TO + CALUMNY 314 + + XL. THE COUNT HAWKS THE LIBELS ABROAD—IS IMPRISONED IN LA + FORCE AND THE CONCIERGERIE—THE LAST OF THE DE LA + MOTTE LIBELS 324 + + XLI. RETRIBUTION—THE CRIMINAL AND HER ACCOMPLICES 336 + + XLII. DUPE AND VICTIM 348 + + XLIII. “NESTOR DE LA MOTTE”—ILL GOTTEN GAIN NEVER PROSPERS—GREEN + OLD AGE 356 + + XLIV. THE CROWN-JEWELLERS—THE END OF THE NECKLACE CASE—HISTORY + AGAIN REPEATS ITSELF 368 + + XLV. SUMMING UP OF THE EVIDENCE AGAINST MARIE-ANTOINETTE 372 + + APPENDIX. DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE 387 + + SELECTION FROM THE LETTERS PRETENDED TO HAVE PASSED + BETWEEN THE QUEEN AND THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN 390 + + EPITOME OF THE FIRST PROCÈS-VERBAL DESCRIPTIVE OF THE + DOCUMENTS TENDING TO ESTABLISH CRIMINALITY 395 + + SOME SATIRICAL VERSES TO WHICH THE NECKLACE AFFAIR + GAVE RISE 402 + + MEMORIAL CONCERNING THE HOUSE OF SAINT-REMI DE VALOIS 405 + + ABSTRACT OF THE DECLARATION MADE BY BETTE D’ÉTIENVILLE + IN THE NECKLACE AFFAIR 409 + + + + + “Though the descendant of a king, I have been a beggar, a + servant, a mantua-maker’s apprentice, and the favourite of + royalty.... The names of a great queen and of a prince-cardinal + unhappily united with mine have spread a blaze around it to + attract general notice; and as if I was doomed to be the victim + of painful splendour, the ingenuity of my enemies have found + means to forge the chains of my dishonour out of a Diamond + Necklace.”—“Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. + i. p. 267, and p. 6 of Preface. + + “Faites attention à ce misérable Collier, je ne serais + nullement surpris qu’il renversât le trône.”—_Talleyrand to + Chamfort._ “Histoire Monarchique et Constitutionnelle de la + Révolution Française,” par E. Labaume, vol. ii. p. 139. + + “I would caution them to despise those who, hacknied in + systematic scandal, feast upon the bleeding reputations of + their sisters mangled and torn by calumny; let them demand + of those who convey such vile insinuations some proof of + the circumstances which they relate; let them sift them + thoroughly to the bottom; _let them inquire the character + of the tale-bearer; let them ask how, where, and when, and + whether she knows the woman whom she has so eagerly attempted + to disgrace_.”—“Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” + vol. ii. p. 410. + + “Do not the critics teach us: ‘In whatsoever thing thou hast + thyself felt interest, in that or in nothing hope to inspire + others with interest.’ In partial obedience to all which and + to many other principles shall the following small Romance + of the Diamond Necklace begin to come together. A small + Romance let the reader again and again assure himself, which + is no brain-web of mine, or of any other foolish man’s, but + a fraction of the mystic ‘spirit-woven web’ from the ‘Loom + of Time.’ It is an actual Transaction that happened in this + Earth of ours. Wherewith our whole business is to paint it + truly.”—“Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. + p. 5. + + + + +THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. + + + + +I. + +1764. + +A SCION OF ROYALTY IN TATTERS.—“TAKE PITY ON THE ORPHAN DESCENDANTS OF +HENRY II., KING OF FRANCE.” + + +Rather more than a century ago, in the year 1764, just as death had +closed the career of the once all-powerful Madame de Pompadour, who +had long since exhausted all her arts in vain endeavours to revive the +jaded passions of her royal lover, and when the star of the notorious +Dubarry was gaining the ascendant, the Marquis and Marchioness de +Boulainvilliers, attended by servants and outriders in the gayest of +liveries, were driving one day in a carriage and four from their hôtel +at Paris to the château of Passy, of which pleasant river-side village +the marquis was _seigneur_. All at once their attention was attracted to +a little girl about eight years of age, clad in the beggar’s accustomed +livery—rags and tatters, who, carrying a younger sister on her back, ran +beside the carriage, at that moment proceeding up the hill at a slow +pace, and appealed for charity after the following strange fashion:—“Kind +lady and gentleman, pray take pity on two poor orphans descended from +Henry the Second of Valois, King of France.” + +The marchioness, struck by the singularity of this appeal, stopped the +carriage and commenced questioning the child, much to the annoyance of +her parsimonious husband, who petulantly remarked she ought to know well +enough that it was a common trick of poverty to forge lies to excite +compassion. The marchioness, however, persisted in her inquiries, and +ascertained from the child whereabouts she lived, then, after promising +to see into the truth of her statement and telling a servant to give her +a few pieces of silver, the lady, greatly to the satisfaction of her +impatient husband, gave directions for the carriage to proceed. + +The next day, in accordance with her promise, the marchioness despatched +a trusty servant to the place where the children lodged, at the adjacent +village of Chaillot, facing the river between Passy and the then +fashionable Cours la Reine, where the commonality—in other words, those +who wore “frieze, woollen stockings and cloth hoods”—were forbidden to +show themselves. At Chaillot the people of the house, and the neighbours +generally, confirmed, so far as they were able, the truth of the little +beggar girl’s story, which, as this partakes largely of the romantic, and +exercised moreover an important influence on our heroine’s subsequent +remarkable career, we propose recounting here in all the necessary detail. + + + + +II. + +1717–1764. + +THE SAINT-REMIS OF VALOIS.—A TRAMP UP TO THE CAPITAL. + + +For a couple of centuries there had resided at Bar-sur-Aube, in the +Champagne, certain Barons de Saint-Remi, the first of whom was Henri +de Saint-Remi, an illegitimate son of Henri II. of Valois, King of +France, lover of the beautiful Diana of Poitiers; the same who had +the ill luck to be accidentally killed at a tilting-match by a lance +thrust in his right eye from the captain of his Scottish guards, the +Count de Montgomerie, ancestor of our Earls of Eglinton. This son of +his, Henri de Saint-Remi, was, in heralds’ language, “High and Puissant +Lord and Knight, Baron and Seigneur of the Manors of the Chatellier, +Fontette, Noez and Beauvoir, Knight of the King’s Order, Gentleman +of the Bedchamber in ordinary, Colonel of a regiment of horse and a +regiment of foot, and Governor of Château-Villain.” In the course of a +few generations, however, the Saint-Remis appear to have fallen from +their high estate, and their broad manors to have become entirely +alienated from them, inasmuch as we find that Nicolas de Saint-Remi, +the great-grandson of the Henri before mentioned, instead of being +styled “High and Puissant Lord and Knight,” and Seigneur of various +extensive domains, and the holder of numerous offices about the person +of the sovereign, was merely one of the king’s body-guard in the Duke +de Charost’s company. He married the daughter of Nicolas-François de +Vienne, a great man in the royal bailiwick of Bar-sur-Aube, who seems at +this period to have been the possessor of two of the Saint-Remi manors, +namely, Noez and Fontette. The children that sprung from this marriage +were two sons, the elder of whom was slain in battle, while the younger, +Jacques de Saint-Remi, was father of the little beggar girl whom we found +running beside the Boulainvilliers’ carriage asking alms. + +Jacques de Saint-Remi de Valois, in spite of his illustrious descent, +seems to have gradually sunk to the level of the peasant class, and +the indigence to which he found himself reduced was aggravated by his +imprudently marrying a young girl with a pretty face, but of vulgar +manners and somewhat loose morals, the daughter of his _concierge_ at +the time he had a house to shelter him. The offspring of this union +was a son and two daughters, born respectively in the years 1755, 6, +and 7, but small as his family was, Jacques de Saint-Remi seems to +have been unable to support it. One who knew him well describes the +last of the barons of Saint-Remi as a man of athletic build, who lived +partly by poaching and by depredations in the adjoining forest, partly +by plundering his neighbours’ fields, and partly on the charity of the +benevolent.[1] The vast estates which formerly belonged to the now +impoverished family had gradually dwindled away, some having been sold +to meet the demands arising from the extravagance of successive owners, +while others had passed into the hands of lawyers and money-lenders. At +this period there nevertheless remained three domains of considerable +extent, deeply encumbered, it is true, with debts, but still open to some +real or fancied claim, which, although the beggared heir of the house of +Valois had no means of enforcing it, was nevertheless the reverie and +abstraction of his life. A few sheets of musty parchment, the surviving +title-deeds of his house, the last wreck, so to speak, of the vast landed +property of the Saint-Remis of Valois, were kept by him carefully stowed +away under the straw thatch of his miserable hut. To pore at times over +these old parchments was the one act of worldly vanity in which Jacques +de Saint-Remi permitted himself to indulge, but the woman he had married +was not so easily satisfied. The continual display of these mysterious +documents kindled her ambition, until at length it was raised to such a +pitch, that she prevailed on her husband to set out for Paris, there to +endeavour to make interest among the great for the restoration of those +rights to which as heir of the house of Valois she conceived him to be +entitled. + +After disposing of such few movables as they possessed, the wretched +family set forth and literally tramped up to the capital, a distance of +nearly a hundred and fifty miles. That they might not be burthened on the +way by their youngest child, then about three years old, the unnatural +parents left it behind them, exposed on a window-sill of the house of +one Durand, “a wealthy and avaricious farmer,” to quote the eldest +sister’s own words, “who, being in possession of a great part of my +father’s estate, and having stood sponsor to this unfortunate infant, was +therefore deemed the most proper person to be her future protector.”[2] + +On their arrival in Paris, in a state of extreme destitution, the +Saint-Remi family shifted their place of residence from one suburb to +another until they eventually settled down at Boulogne, then merely a +small village on the banks of the Seine, opposite to St. Cloud. Here they +lived upon such charity as the gentry of the neighbourhood, attracted by +the singularity of their story, from time to time bestowed upon them. The +father at this period had fallen into a stage of dotage, and the mother’s +pet idea of an appeal in high quarters for the restoration of the family +estates had to be sacrificed to the powerful struggle which they were +forced to make for their daily bread. Months thus passed away, until +one day Jacques de Saint-Remi, for some cause or other—most likely an +unpaid baker’s bill—was arrested by an officer of the marshalsea (mounted +police) of Boulogne, and locked up in a loathsome cell, where he remained +for six weeks. Here the poor man contracted a serious illness, and on +his release, which was brought about by the intervention of the _curé_ +of the parish, the only retreat which the efforts of his neighbours, for +friends he had none, were enabled to provide for him—a descendant of the +blood-royal of France—was a pallet in one of the wards of the Hôtel Dieu. +Here he died, a couple of days afterwards, on the 16th February, 1762. + +Within a few days of the death of Jacques de Saint-Remi his wife gave +birth to another daughter, and as soon as she was recovered from her +confinement, the family removed to Versailles, where the mother made a +practice of sending the children into the streets to beg. Jeanne, the +eldest daughter, and the heroine of our story, appears to have been +treated with great harshness by her mother; for unless the child brought +home ten _sous_ on ordinary days, and double that amount on Sundays +and fête days, as the fruits of her mendicity, she was subjected, she +tells us, to the cruellest punishment. The mother had at this time +formed a disreputable connection with a disbanded common soldier—one +Jean-Baptiste Raymond, a native of Sardinia—with whom mendicancy was a +positive passion; for, in disregard of the authorities, he made it his +daily practice to beg in the most public places of Paris, having with +him the young Jacques de Saint-Remi, and the family documents, which he +boldly exhibited to the passers-by in support of a pretended claim which +he himself set up to the honours of the house of Valois. Jean-Baptiste +was arrested by the police time after time, for plying his nefarious +trade with such marked audacity, and sentenced to various terms of +imprisonment. He was, however, incorrigible, and the authorities at +last determined upon getting rid of him. After sending him to prison +for a further term of fifteen days, they ordered him to be exposed for +four-and-twenty hours in the Place de Louis Quinze—subsequently the Place +de la Révolution, where for two years the guillotine did its bloody work, +and now the handsome Place de la Concorde—with an inscription setting +forth the nature of his imposture, and copies of the titles he had +falsely assumed hung round his neck. This public exhibition at an end, +Jean-Baptiste Raymond was banished for five years from the capital. + +When the day arrived for his departure, the unnatural mother of the +young Saint-Remis set out with her paramour, leaving behind her three +children, whom she promised to rejoin in eight days at the very outside, +to shift for themselves. Five weeks, however, elapsed without any tidings +of her, and it was at this particular moment that the poor children, +deserted by their only remaining protector, and reduced almost to a +state of starvation, had the good fortune to attract the notice of the +kind-hearted Marchioness de Boulainvilliers. + + + + +III. + +1764–1779. + +MANTUA-MAKER’S APPRENTICE.—PENSIONER UNDER THE CROWN.—BOARDER IN A +CONVENT. + + +The Boulainvilliers’ lacquey, satisfied with the inquiries he had made, +directed the children to take leave of those kind neighbours who had so +constantly befriended them, and afterwards to come on to Passy, where +they were to inquire for the château, which stood, by-the-way, on the +precise spot where the pleasant “Hameau de Boulainvilliers” now stands. +But few preparations being necessary for their departure, they were soon +on their road, and reached the château in the course of the afternoon. +Their arrival being announced, they were conducted “into a grand hall, +in the centre of which rose a magnificent staircase richly ornamented +with gold, where a large company of ladies and gentlemen were waiting to +view them.”[3] The marchioness descending to the middle of the staircase, +asked young Jeanne whether she remembered her again, an inquiry which it +is almost needless to say the child promptly answered in the affirmative. + +The company having gratified their curiosity at a distance, for no one +dared venture into too close proximity with these wretched outcasts, +covered as they were with rags and dirt, the marchioness gave orders +for them to be cleansed, and for other clothes to be supplied them. A +good scrubbing having brought to light indications of various diseases, +the usual concomitants of poverty, steps were taken for their speedy +eradication; and in the course of a few weeks, thanks to the attention +the children received, and to the generous food provided them, all traces +of their former wretched condition were effaced. + +The marchioness’s next care was the education of the young orphans, +and Jeanne and her sister were sent to a boarding-school in the +neighbourhood, where they made rapid progress. In less than two years, +however, the youngest girl died of the small-pox, at that time a disease +not only very prevalent, but commonly fatal. Jeanne remained at school +for several years longer; but during the latter period of her stay, her +governess, she tells us, unknown to the marchioness (whom the young +Saint-Remi saw but rarely), compelled her to perform the common offices +of a domestic servant. “This employment,” she observes, “against which it +was useless to remonstrate, was but ill adapted to those elevated notions +which reflections on my birth had inspired me with. Was it not,” she +asks, “painful to feel that, descended as I was from the first family in +France, I was yet reduced to be a servant to people of the very lowest +rank, nay, even to servants themselves?”[4] + +At length, at her own request, Jeanne was removed from school, but +the marquis, who was half a Jew—his mother being a daughter of Samuel +Bernard, the rich Hebrew banker, whom even the “Grand Monarque” would +condescend to take by the arm when he was hard up and wanted to coax a +loan out of him, and whom the court ladies used to cheat at the queen’s +card-table—objected to her continuing a pensioner on the Boulainvilliers’ +establishment. With the view therefore of placing her in a position to +provide for herself, Jeanne was articled to a Parisian mantua-maker for a +term of three years. Ill-health, however, compelled her to leave before +completing the engagement, and she filled one situation after another, +subject to constant attacks of illness, until at length a change in the +fortunes of the family made it no longer necessary for her to labour for +her daily bread. + +The young Jacques de Saint-Remi had received his education under the +care of M. Leclerc, the husband of his sister Jeanne’s governess, and on +its completion had been sent to sea. About this time he returned home +from his first voyage, and the marchioness, having got together various +documents in support of the claim of the family to the honours of the +house of Valois, consulted with the Marquis de Chabert (the admiral under +whom the young Saint-Remi had recently served, and who had interested +himself a good deal in the young sailor’s history) as to the best course +to be adopted to get this claim recognised at court. The marquis at +once caused a genealogical tree of the family to be drawn up, which he +transmitted with the necessary confirmatory documents to his cousin, M. +d’Hozier de Sérigny, grand genealogist and judge-at-arms of the nobility +of France, that the same might receive the sanction of his authority.[5] + +When this was returned to M. de Chabert, accompanied by a certificate +of M. d’Hozier’s attesting its accuracy, the marquis forwarded the +various documents to the proper quarter, and in due course obtained the +appointment of a day for the reception of young Saint-Remi by Louis XVI., +who had only recently ascended the throne. The youth was introduced to +the king as the Baron de Valois by the Marquis de Boulainvilliers, the +Marquis de Chabert, the Count de Maurepas, and M. Necker. The king was +pleased to recognise the title which the friends of the young Jacques de +Saint-Remi had persuaded him to assume, but desirous, it was believed, +that this should become extinct in the person of its present possessor, +recommended the newly-acknowledged Baron de Valois to devote himself to +the service of the church.[6] Jacques respectfully ventured to suggest +that his predilections were in favour of the army or the navy. The king +thanked the young Saint-Remi for his inclination to serve him, but +recommended him again, still more strongly, to dedicate his days to the +service of his Maker. “Sire,” replied the young man, with a sprinkling of +blasphemy which only a Frenchman would have ventured on, “I am serving +God when I am serving my king.”[7] + +The members of the Saint-Remi family had now their several titles awarded +them. Jacques, as we have already seen, was henceforth to be styled Baron +de Valois; his sister Jeanne was to be known as Mademoiselle de Valois; +and Marianne, the poor child who had been left exposed outside Farmer +Durand’s window-sill, and who was now sent for to Paris, was for the +future to be called Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi. But as “fine words butter +no parsneps,” so empty honours will not suffice to keep the pot boiling. +It was therefore imperative that the necessary steps should be taken to +procure some sort of provision for these destitute off-shoots of the +blood-royal of France. It is true the national finances were in a most +lamentable condition, still everybody agreed that something must be done, +which something finally resolved itself into a pension to each member +of the family of Valois of eight hundred livres (francs) equivalent to +thirty-two pounds sterling per annum, commencing from December, 1775. In +addition to this, through the intervention of M. Necker, the young Baron +de Valois had a commission in the navy given him, with a grant of four +thousand livres for his outfit, and shortly afterwards received orders to +join his ship at Brest. + +We have already mentioned that Jeanne, or, as we must now style +her, Mademoiselle de Valois, during the period she was toiling as a +mantua-maker’s apprentice, was subject to frequent attacks of illness. On +these occasions it seems an apartment was set apart for her at the Hôtel +de Boulainvilliers[8] where every care was bestowed upon her until she +was completely restored to health. During the period of her convalescence +she was constantly persecuted by the marquis with attentions the object +of which it was impossible to mistake. These advances, moreover, were +subsequently renewed on every occasion that presented itself; in fact, +whenever mademoiselle found herself under the Boulainvilliers’ roof; and +if we can credit her own statement, more than one daring assault was made +by the old reprobate upon her virtue. To rid herself of the marquis’s +importunities she was forced, she tells us, to complain to his wife, who +decided upon taking the necessary steps to remove mademoiselle beyond +the sphere of her husband’s dangerous influence. She and her sister +Marianne were accordingly sent as boarders to the Abbey of Yères, in the +neighbourhood of Montgeron, some dozen miles or so from Paris, on the +road to Lyons. Here she asserts that for a time she contemplated taking +the veil, a resolution, however, which, if ever seriously entertained, +was very soon abandoned. + +About this time the Marquis de Boulainvilliers was detected defrauding +the excise by means of an extensive secret distillery which he carried +on in some vaults beneath his Paris hôtel. The discovery of this fraud +caused, as might be supposed, considerable sensation among the _haute +noblesse_, and neither the marquis nor the marchioness dared show +themselves at court, and hardly even in the vicinity of the capital. They +decided, therefore, to retire for a time to their château at Montgeron, +no great distance from the Abbey of Yères, and, as a matter of course, +the sisters Valois were invited to spend the holidays with them. At the +château they would probably have continued to remain had not the marquis +renewed his system of persecution. It is, however, tolerably certain +that something very like encouragement was given to him by Mademoiselle +de Valois, for the pair were surprised one day in a somewhat equivocal +situation by the Marquis de Brancas and the Abbé Tacher, and although +the lady in her “Memoirs” has the effrontery to speak of “the blush of +conscious innocence which coloured her cheek” on this occasion, the +result was that she was packed off by the marchioness to the well-known +Abbey of Longchamp near Paris—of course, as she says, at her own earnest +entreaty. Of this once handsome pile of conventual buildings, all +that has survived the fury of the revolutionists of 1793, is a round +ivy-mantled tower and an adjacent windmill, both familiar objects at the +present time in this favourite locality. In the days of St. Vincent de +Paul, the disorders which reigned in the Abbey of Longchamp were such as +to call forth severe animadversions from this earnest and conscientious +priest,[9] and even when the sisters Valois entered it as boarders, the +discipline was inclined to be lax; nevertheless the marquis made so many +morning calls that the other boarders were scandalised at his constant +visits, and the abbess was constrained to give orders that no gentleman +should be allowed to visit Mademoiselle de Valois on any pretence +whatever. At this abbey the sisters remained for about a year, only +quitting it, say they, on the death of the abbess. Other accounts state +that they left the convent surreptitiously early one morning, carrying +with them a very light bundle, and with thirty-six francs jingling in +their pockets, their departure being due to the pertinacity of the abbess +in pressing them to embrace a religious life, a course to which the young +ladies, who were by this time sufficiently partial to worldly vanities, +were by no means inclined.[10] The abbess is supposed to have received +her instructions from high quarters, and it is further suggested that +the object of them was the gradual extinction of the race of the Valois, +together with all their troublesome claims. + + + + +IV. + +1773–1778. + +THE DIAMOND NECKLACE: ORDERED, BUT NOT SOLD. + + +While our heroine was being initiated into the mysteries of mantua-making +by the most distinguished of Parisian _modistes_, the “chains of her +dishonour,”[11] as she styles them, were unknown to her being forged +in the form of a Diamond Necklace, such as the world never saw before, +and the like of which it can hardly hope to look upon again. Here is a +description, penned by a master-hand, of this regal jewel, this unique +gem, long an object of desire with queens and women, which caused a +nine months’ convulsion of the world of Paris, and the remarkable story +connected with which was for a time the talk of every city in Europe, +while the mystery enveloping it is thought by many to be hardly cleared +up even now. “A row of seventeen glorious diamonds, as large almost as +filberts, encircle, not too tightly, the neck a first time. Looser, +gracefully fastened thrice to these, a three-wreathed festoon and +pendants enough (simple pear-shaped, multiple star-shaped or clustering +amorphous) encircle it, enwreath it a second time. Loosest of all, softly +flowing round from behind in priceless catenary, rush down two broad +threefold rows; seem to knot themselves, round a very queen of diamonds, +on the bosom; then rush on, again separated, as if there were length in +plenty: the very tassels of them were a fortune for some men. And now, +lastly, two other inexpressible threefold rows, also with their tassels, +will, when the Necklace is on and clasped, unite themselves behind +into a doubly inexpressible sixfold row; and so stream down, together +or asunder, over the hind neck,—we may fancy like lambent zodiacal or +Aurora-Borealis fire.”[12] + +This matchless jewel had its origin in a freak of Louis XV., the +“Well-Beloved,” as he was endearingly called at the early part of his +reign, whose infatuation in later years for the notorious Countess +Dubarry led him into all kinds of extravagance, and caused him to +dissipate with more than his accustomed recklessness the already +seriously impaired revenues of the State. We learn from the Abbé Soulavie +that, during the last sixteen months of the “Well-Beloved’s” reign, the +sum of two million four hundred and fifty thousand francs, or nearly one +hundred thousand pounds sterling—a far larger sum in those days, be it +remembered, than at the present time—was paid out of the royal exchequer +in hard cash to this one favourite alone. And to satisfy us that his +statement is accurate, the abbé furnishes us with his authority, and +gives the details of the eight several instalments of which the grand +total is composed.[13] This, it should be borne in mind, was entirely +independent of all manner of royal grants and gifts of places and houses +and lands, which had been flung, whenever asked for, into the lap of this +frail beauty. Startling as this example of royal prodigality in the days +of the decadence of the French monarchy may appear, it is nevertheless +indisputable that the infatuated libertine who then controlled the +destinies of France, by no means wanted the will to indulge in still +wilder schemes of extravagance. For instance, on one occasion, whilst +visiting with his architect the costly pavilion of Louveciennes, lately +erected for Madame Dubarry, he expressed his regret that he could not +present her with a palace constructed entirely of gold and precious +stones. Unable to realize this extravagant whim, he resolved to bestow +upon his mistress the most costly set of diamonds which could be +collected throughout Europe. The result was the world-renowned Diamond +Necklace.[14] + +Louis XV. gave the commission to the crown jewellers, Böhmer and +Bassenge[15] who entered heart and soul into the undertaking. The +execution of so rare an order was of course an affair of time. Not only +had the jewellers to raise funds to enable them to secure the largest +and finest diamonds that were in the market, but they had to hunt out +and employ the most skilful lapidaries to fashion them to their several +shapes. Every important city in Europe, and others far more remote, +were ransacked to collect these matchless gems. Some of the finest were +met with in Germany, others in Spain, others again in Russia, a few in +Brazil, and a very fine one indeed was picked up in the city of Hamburg. +“But,” says Carlyle, “to tell the various histories of these various +diamonds, from the first making of them, or even omitting all the rest, +from the first digging of them in far Indian mines.... How they served as +eyes of heathen idols, and received worship; how they had then by fortune +of war, or theft, been knocked out, and exchanged among camp-sutlers +for a little spirituous liquor, and bought by Jews; and worn as signets +on the fingers of tawny or white majesties; and again been lost, with +the fingers too, and perhaps life (as by Charles the Rash among the mud +ditches of Nancy), in old forgotten glorious victories; and so through +innumerable varieties of fortune had come at last to the cutting-wheel +of Böhmer, to be united in strange fellowship with comrades also blown +together from all ends of the earth, each with a history of its own. +Could these aged stones—the youngest of them six thousand years of age +and upwards—but have spoken, there were an experience for philosophy to +teach by. But now, as was said, by little caps of gold and daintiest +rings of the same, they are all being, so to speak, enlisted under +Böhmer’s flag,—made to take rank and file in new order, no jewel asking +his neighbour whence he came; and parade there for a season. For a season +only, and then to disperse and enlist anew _ad infinitum_.”[16] + +For many of their purchases credit was obtained by the crown jewellers +for a limited period; for others, when they had exhausted their own +capital, they were obliged to have recourse to their friends. But they +were full of confidence, for two millions of livres (francs)—eighty +thousand pounds sterling—was the sum fixed to be paid by the king for +this jewel beyond price. The work went bravely on at the Böhmer and +Bassenge establishment, “_Au Grand Balcon_,” Rue Vendôme. The jewellers, +their friends, their working lapidaries, their trustful creditors, were +all in the highest spirits, when suddenly evil tidings cast dismay into +the Böhmer and Bassenge camp. One day comes the intelligence that the +king is ill; three days afterwards the news arrives that he is in danger; +another week brings the report that he is dead, and the late favourite +for whom the rich ornament was destined banished for ever beyond the +precincts of the court. + +Alas! what was to be done now with the magnificent bauble commissioned +by one who, at the time, spite of all his low grovelling debauchery, +was nevertheless a king, but is now only so much corruption? Böhmer +and Bassenge, crown jewellers, find themselves deeply involved; their +creditors become clamorous, for their bills as they fall due are returned +protested. They have nothing to fall back upon but the Diamond Necklace, +which is worth, or at any rate valued at, two million livres. But where +is a purchaser to be found for it? Böhmer and Bassenge, crown jewellers +though they be, must still pay their debts. Kings, according to a certain +fiction of state, never die—“_Le Roi est Mort! Vive le Roi!_” Böhmer and +Bassenge, however, learn by sad experience not only that kings do die, +but that creditors, alas, do not. + +What is to be done? Only one course suggests itself. A young and lovely +queen has just ascended the throne. Will it not be possible to induce her +to become the purchaser of this unrivalled specimen of _bijouterie_? The +office of crown jeweller carries with it the privilege of _entrée_ to the +presence of royalty at all times and seasons; while “other jewellers, and +even innumerable gentlemen and small nobility, languish in the vestibule. +With the costliest ornaments in his pockets, or borne after him by +assiduous shop-boys, the happy Böhmer sees high drawing-rooms and sacred +_ruelles_ fly open as with talismanic _sesame_, and the brightest eyes of +the whole world grow brighter: to him alone of all men the Unapproachable +reveals herself in mysterious _négligée_, taking and giving counsel.”[17] + +It was to Versailles that Böhmer betook himself, carrying with him the +Diamond Necklace in its case of richest velvet, and ere many hours +have elapsed he is displaying its matchless variegated brilliancy—its +“flashes of star-rainbow colours” to the admiring gaze of the beauteous +Marie-Antoinette, then just twenty years of age, of a gay and lively +disposition, verging, some say, on to giddiness, yet perfectly innocent; +fond of pleasure, and, like other fair young creatures in this world, +not indifferent to those personal ornaments which help to enhance the +charms which Nature has bestowed upon them with so liberal a hand. Still, +pleased as she was with the gem, she nevertheless felt that the times +were unpropitious; or else she scorned, may be, to wear an ornament, +however beautiful, the original destination of which was, to say the +least of it, unfortunate. But be this as it may, one thing is quite +certain, the purchase of the Necklace was declined. + +Thus in a moment, as it were, all those fond hopes with which the crown +jewellers had buoyed themselves up for many months past were dissipated, +and they were again constrained to ask each other, “what is now to be +done?” Poor men, they were not to blame, for how could they have foreseen +that their royal customer, full of health in November, 1773, when he gave +the order, should be dead of small-pox on the 10th of May following? +After several days spent in deliberation the partners decided that a +drawing of the Necklace should be made and an engraving executed, and +that printed copies of this should be sent to all the courts of Europe, +to see whether a customer could not be obtained for a jewel which, +ransack the entire world through, would be found without its equal. + +This scheme, however, clever as it was, proved abortive; for what kind +of idea could the cunningest graver and the most liquescent of printing +inks possibly give of brilliants of the very finest water? The jewellers +next resolved that one of the firm—Bassenge being the younger and more +active was eventually fixed upon—should devote himself to travelling over +Europe, and to visiting the various courts, where he might personally +solicit the different empresses, queens, princesses, landgravines, +margravines, electresses, infantas, and grand and arch-duchesses, to +purchase this costly jewel, which only a neck flushing with the blood +of royalty was worthy to wear. During this time Böhmer was to remain in +Paris, to avail himself of any opportunity that might offer for reopening +negotiations with Marie-Antoinette. One circumstance, however, rendered +the prospect of success doubtful. The queen had become indebted to the +crown jewellers in the sum of 348,000 livres (francs), for a pair of +diamond earrings, of which amount she had herself only been able to pay +some 48,000 livres,[18] leaving 300,000 livres still due. + +In this way several years went by. Shortly after the birth of Madame +Royale, the Necklace was again offered to the queen, but although the +reduced price of one million eight hundred thousand livres was named +for it, there was a more serious obstacle than ever in the way of its +purchase. France was at this period engaged in a war with England on +behalf of the American Colonists, and her navy was in a most crippled +condition. No sooner did the crown jeweller name the subject of the +Necklace, than Marie-Antoinette interrupted him with this queen-like +remark, “Monsieur, we have more need of men-of-war now than of +diamonds.”[19] What reply could a crown jeweller make to so pertinent an +observation as this? All he could do was to feel affronted, and hastily +making his obeisances, he flung himself into the corner of his carriage, +and set off down the long Avenue de Paris on his return to the Rue +Vendôme in no very amiable mood. + + + + +V. + +1779–1780. + +AT BAR-SUR-AUBE.—COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE. + + +While Monsieur Bassenge Calaphibus-like is wandering up and down Europe +trying to dispose of the ill-fated Diamond Necklace, let us see what +our heroine is doing now that she has freed herself from the restraints +of a conventual life in order to launch forth into the great world +with no one to direct, no one to control her. On leaving the abbey of +Longchamp the two sisters decided upon making their way to Bar-sur-Aube, +and embarked on board one of the Seine barges plying between Paris and +Nogent, from which latter place they proceeded up the river Aube to their +destination.[20] The youngest sister, it seems, was possessed with a +certain longing to return to the place of her birth. Whether this arose +from a feeling of vanity, a desire to show off before the simple rustics +of Fontette, or whether love was the actuating principle—for she had left +a sweetheart behind her when she was summoned to Paris—is more than we +can tell. Arrived at Bar-sur-Aube, our heroine informs us that she and +her sister at once entered a convent, where many visitors called upon +them, and invited them to a round of entertainments at which every one +present vied with his neighbour as to who should pay them the greatest +amount of attention. She even asserts that they received invitations from +the different noble families in the neighbourhood, and, in pursuance +of these, entered upon a series of visits varying from a few days to a +week in extent. When these visits were over, we are told that a Madame +de Suremont enticed them to board at her house, where they were “very +elegantly entertained” for four hundred livres (sixteen pounds) per +annum.[21] + +Other accounts, which we believe to be more trustworthy, assert that +the sisters arrived at Bar-sur-Aube with merely a few livres in their +pockets, and a single change of linen beyond the clothes they had on, and +that, instead of entering a convent, they put up at a miserable little +inn called “_La Tête Rouge_,” where they made good their footing by +their high titles and the claims they set up to the manors of Essoyes, +Fontette, and Verpilière, in the neighbourhood. The great expectations +they announced soon became generally known in a small country town, and +the consequence was that the good people round about flocked to see them +out of curiosity, and it was then that Madame de Suremont, touched by +their distress, offered the fugitives the use of her house for a few days +until they could manage to provide some other lodging for themselves. + +On retiring for the night their hostess, a very stout lady, kindly lent +them two of her own dresses to wear, observing, however, that she was +afraid they would be too large to fit them. What was Madame de Suremont’s +astonishment to see her young guests enter the sitting-room the following +morning with the dresses, which they had spent the night in cutting and +adapting to their own slim figures, fitting them to perfection! Instead, +too, of stopping merely a week at this hospitable house, according to the +terms of their invitation, the Demoiselles de Valois managed to remain +in it for twelve months, flirting with all the young fellows who visited +there, and exhibiting more levity and freedom than was becoming to their +sex.[22] The ladies, naturally enough, all shrank aghast from this bold +behaviour, but the gentlemen were more or less amused at it. + +In due course several of these young fellows became smitten with our +heroine, and amongst those who contested for the honour of her smiles +were two who stood out in advance of the rest. One was M. Beugnot, the +writer of the Memoirs we have been quoting, and son of a well-to-do +citizen of Bar-sur-Aube. The latter, however, was so alarmed at the mere +idea of having Mademoiselle de Valois for a daughter-in-law that he +packed off his son to Paris to study law, politics, and human nature, +which he did to such good purpose as to escape the guillotine, and get +created a councillor of state and a count by Napoleon, by whom he was +appointed administrator of one of the Rhine provinces. At the Restoration +he was named _ad interim_ minister of the interior, then minister of +police, next minister of marine, afterwards postmaster-general, and +finally director-general of the administration of finances; and was +altogether so eager a place-hunter, that a pamphleteer of the time said +of him that he would have hired himself out to the plague if the plague +only gave pensions. The other was M. de la Motte, a nephew of Madame de +Suremont’s, and son of a chevalier of St.-Louis killed at the battle of +Minden. This young gentleman, an officer, or as Madame Campan and the +Abbé Georgel say, a private in the _gendarmerie_, and destitute of any +fortune whatever, had already managed to involve himself deeply in debt. +Previous to the Revolution the _gendarmerie_, very different from the +force now known by that name, was the first cavalry regiment in France, +and the usual refuge for young men of good family but poor estate. + +Let us hear what the lady herself has to say respecting this young man +(who had only his sword with which to cut his way to fortune), and his +pretensions to be considered the accepted suitor of a descendant of the +royal house of Valois. + +“Amongst many other species of amusement, we frequently performed +comedies, in one of which I engaged to take a part. M. de la Motte, an +officer in the gendarmes, and nephew of Madame de Suremont, being on a +visit to Bar-sur-Aube, acquired great reputation for his performance, and +became remarked for his assiduity and attention to please. The part of a +valet was assigned to him, and that of a waiting-maid to me. We divided +the applause of the company, for having, as they pleased to express, +sustained our characters with so much propriety. + +“From the moment of our first interview M. de la Motte paid me very +pointed attention. He eagerly seized every opportunity of showing me how +solicitous he was to please. His compliments were not glaring, but of +that delicate nature which could only proceed from the genuine dictates +of an honest heart. Elegant in person and manners, and insinuating in +address, the honourable intention which he manifested could not prove +disagreeable to me. I listened, and, as I believe, is generally the +consequence where any of our sex listen to the persuasions of youth, +elegance, and accomplishments in the other, I was soon not far from +loving him. + +“Madame de Suremont perceived the growing attachment of her nephew, and +afforded him every opportunity of urging his suit. She frequently left us +together when the company were gone, engaging M. de la Motte to remain +and write out my parts, and give me instructions in acting them. + +“I will ingenuously confess that I loved M. de la Motte. He possessed a +sincerity of heart, seldom to be found excepting in the country, blended +with those polished manners which mark the _habitué_ of the metropolis. +He seized every opportunity of rendering himself agreeable, and I had +every reason to suppose he entertained favourable sentiments towards me, +at least I wished so, and the gradation is so natural that it will not +appear strange if I believed it. + +“M. de la Motte, I had remarked for some days, appeared thoughtful and +melancholy; but as he had never communicated to me the cause, though I +was uneasy at the effect of it, I forebore to make inquiry. He advised +me to go to Paris to see my brother, and to make known his pretensions +to Madame de Boulainvilliers, my worthy mother, and endeavour to obtain +her consent to our union. Fearful that breaking this matter suddenly +to the marchioness, after having carried it on so far without her +knowledge, might give her offence, I hesitated some time ere I could form +a resolution to acquaint her; but, trusting to her goodness, I at length +yielded to M. de la Motte’s arguments in favour of a determination which +was also consonant to the dictates of my own heart. + +“When I had resolved on a journey to Paris, which highly gratified M. +de la Motte, I at once wrote a letter to Madame de Boulainvilliers, +informing her that having heard of my brother’s arrival, and being +anxious to see him, I should be at Paris the Saturday following by +eight o’clock. The interval was occupied by M. de la Motte in giving +me directions for my behaviour, and earnestly pressing me to return as +soon as possible, and complete his happiness by the celebration of our +nuptials. Not a single person in the house, not even my sister, was +acquainted with what was in agitation. The attentions of M. de la Motte +had long been observed, but our marriage was whispered of only as a +conjecture. + +“On the Wednesday following, about three in the morning, I set off in +the diligence, and after a very tedious and disagreeable journey, over +roads which at once prove the neglect of the government and the patience +of the people, I arrived near Paris, and found Julia, the marchioness’s +first woman, waiting with a coach at the Porte Saint-Antoine. I was not a +little pleased at being so near the end of my journey, and felt no regret +at quitting my disagreeable vehicle for the one which conveyed me to the +Hôtel de Boulainvilliers. + +“I was impatient to see my brother, but I was disappointed; he had +received orders to join his squadron at Brest. Madame de Boulainvilliers +received me with that cordiality and affection with which the tenderest +of mothers would receive her daughter after a long absence. She told me +that my brother would not have written to inform me of his arrival if +it could have been foreseen how soon he was to depart. This information +gave me much uneasiness, which Madame de Boulainvilliers used the utmost +assiduity to dissipate. + +“The evening was occupied by many questions which the marchioness asked +me relative to Bar-sur-Aube, concerning our reception and the diversions +and entertainments of the place. I took advantage of this opportunity +to mention the comedy. I perceived, from a sign she made to Madame de +Tonneres, her daughter, that she had some private correspondent in that +place, who had informed her of more than I knew, and that the information +I had to give was by no means novel. This surprised me not a little. + +“A day or two after they resumed the topic, and Madame de Tonneres asked +me what character I played. I told her that of a waiting-maid. She seemed +surprised that I should choose a part like that, when there were many +others for which I was much better adapted. ‘But who,’ said Madame de +Boulainvilliers, ‘was the young man who played the part of Jasmin? Is he +a young man? Pray how old is he?’ I could not well comprehend the drift +of these questions, which, nevertheless, I found myself constrained to +answer. ‘He is a young gentleman,’ I replied, ‘who has a commission in +the gendarmes,’ and I then proceeded to give them information respecting +his family. ‘And what do you think of him?’ ‘That he has a pleasing +address, is much of a gentleman, and has received a very good education; +understands music, and dances to perfection: everybody gives him the +credit of being a very accomplished young man, and all admit that he +played his character like an experienced actor.’ Perceiving me growing +warm in my encomiums, the marchioness smiled. Her daughter observed it, +and they exchanged some very significant glances with each other, and +then, to avoid giving me any suspicions, changed the subject of the +conversation. + +“On another occasion Madame de Tonneres, with whom I was frequently left +alone, examined me yet more closely respecting M. de la Motte. ‘What!’ +inquired she, in a tone of raillery, ‘did this presumptuous wretch +ever aspire to be your husband?’ ‘Oh, yes! he proposed demanding me in +marriage through his mother, at the same time informing me of his fortune +and expectations.’ ‘And what answer did you make, my dear?’ ‘That I would +beg Madame de Boulainvilliers to give her consent,’ replied I. ‘But did +you give no promise of your own accord, and are you really partial to +him?’ I answered these questions in the affirmative. ‘Well, then, my +dear,’ replied she, ‘from your approbation, I will believe him worthy +of your love.’ ‘Then do me the favour,’ replied I, ‘to represent my +affections to my dear mother, at some convenient opportunity when I am +not present; and you may, if you please, inform her, at the same time, +that M. de la Luzerne, bishop of Langres, can give her every information +concerning the family with which he is well acquainted: indeed, he has +been requested by the mother of M. de la Motte to demand me in marriage.’ +The result was that Madame de Tonneres kindly undertook my cause with the +marchioness, who, having my happiness at heart, wished me, in a matter +which could but once be resolved on, to take time for deliberation. + +“Though Madame de Boulainvilliers seemed rather to dissuade me from my +purpose than consent to its accomplishment, she nevertheless consented +to write to the Bishop of Langres, who the very next evening paid her a +visit. As soon as he arrived I made my obedience and retired, leaving +him and the marchioness to their private conference. + +“I was in no small state of anxiety to learn the result of a negotiation +to me of such importance, yet was at a loss of whom to inquire. The next +morning I was relieved from suspense, for I received a letter from the +reverend prelate, informing me of their conversation the evening before. +He gave me some hopes of obtaining the consent of the marchioness, and +this was all; as for the marquis, I learnt that he positively refused his +consent to the match. + +“In a few days I departed for Bar-sur-Aube: my regret at parting with the +marchioness was increased by my having to return home without obtaining +her consent to our marriage, which, though this had been the express +object of my journey, I could not consistently with delicacy or duty +press any further, lest I should appear too precipitately to reject the +prudent advice which she had given me. + +“My return to Bar-sur-Aube was much more agreeable than my journey to +Paris. I had written to my sister and M. de la Motte to apprise them +of it, and was met by them about two leagues from Bar-sur-Aube, at a +beautiful seat, the residence of M. de la Motte’s mother. + +“The news of my departure, and the object of my journey, had transpired +and spread through the village; every one spoke of my marriage with M. de +la Motte. It was whispered that Mademoiselle de Valois had returned with +the consent of her brother and Madame de Boulainvilliers to solemnize +this marriage; all welcomed me with as much pleasure as if, instead of a +week, I had been absent a year. + +“M. de la Motte received me with heartfelt satisfaction, but his +countenance seemed to speak a degree of anxiety; he feared that it was +the intention of Madame de Boulainvilliers to have married me to some +other husband, and trembled for the success of my embassy: he read in my +looks that all was not as it should be, while the words which dropped +from Madame de Boulainvilliers made me doubtful whether I should be able +to obtain her consent. The uneasiness which on this account overspread +my countenance was intelligible only to M. de la Motte, by whose advice +I was prevailed upon to take the only steps prudence dictated in so +delicate and embarrassing a position. + +“My pen was the instrument by which I disclosed a secret my timidity +could never suffer my tongue to discover; I immediately wrote to +Madame de Boulainvilliers three successive letters, entreating her to +compassionate my distress, and to let her consent grace our union. I also +wrote to the Bishop of Langres, asking that worthy prelate, who before +had done me signal service, to intercede with the marchioness in my +behalf. The intercession of the bishop I was confident would have its due +weight, and indeed it at length produced that consent so essential to my +future happiness. + +“The approbation of Madame de Boulainvilliers having now given a sanction +to our proceedings, an early day was appointed, by the advice of the +friends of M. de la Motte, for the celebration of our nuptials, which +took place, according to the custom of the province, at midnight on the +6th of June, 1780. + +“The day after our marriage a grand dinner was given by Madame de +Suremont. The entertainment was profusely elegant. There were two tables, +one in the antechamber, and the other in the dining-room. Every apartment +was open and very soon crowded; the health of the bride was an apology +for drinking wine as though it had been water. When the company quitted +the table, all were desirous to salute and wish me joy. The remainder of +the day was spent in dancing. + +“The banns of marriage had been published at Fontette, which made the +peasants of that place curious to know the day. They came in great +numbers to Bar-sur-Aube, with the intention of witnessing the ceremony, +and remained there some days. Amongst them was a young peasant, a comely +young fellow, who came to Madame de Suremont and inquired bluntly for +Mademoiselle Filliette, a name by which my sister had formerly been known +in the country. ‘I know no such person,’ replied she: ‘whom do you mean +by Mademoiselle Filliette?’ ‘Why, madame,’ replied the clown, ‘the sister +of mademoiselle who is just married. Please tell her I am Colas, of +Fontette; she will recollect me.’ + +“Madame de Suremont communicated this to my sister, who, out of +compassion for the unfortunate rustic, refused to see him lest such an +interview should make him more unhappy. Durand, indeed, to detain my +sister in the country, had promised her in marriage to this peasant, +whose appearance was greatly in his favour, but the recognition of +her birth by the people in the neighbourhood had kindled in the bosom +of Marianne hopes of an alliance more consonant to her ideas, more +consistent with her present station. Far from despising this poor +creature, she wished to avoid giving him pain. She begged me, therefore, +to speak to him: I did so. ‘Good day, my dear friend,’ said I, ‘what are +your commands for my sister?’ ‘I wish, madame,’ replied he, ‘to have the +honour of paying my respects to her. She is of the same age, we have +stood sponsors together, and M. Durand, her godfather, promised me that +I should marry her. But her fortune is changed; she is now Mademoiselle +de Valois; and I am not quite such a fool as to think that she will have +me for her husband, as she is descended from the blood-royal; but I wish +to have the pleasure of seeing her in her fine clothes, for I am sure,’ +continued he, bursting into tears, ‘she is very handsome!’[23] I could +not help shedding a tear of pity for this honest rustic. His grief, +however, was not to be alleviated; the presence of my sister would but +have increased his misery; at least she thought so, and could not be +prevailed upon to see him. Finding himself without hope, he went home +again, murmuring at what he termed the false-heartedness of his mistress. + +“Some few days after I accompanied my sister to Fontette, where, it being +Sunday, we went to mass. All the peasants rose from their seats at our +entrance, and desired the curate should do us honour, as the children +of the Baron de Saint-Remi their late lord. We received the holy water +and the consecrated bread in the seat of honour; the bells were rung, +and every one testified their joy on our arrival. They crowded about the +house where we were staying; we ordered them six livres a-piece, for +which they testified their gratitude by drinking our healths, and the +health of the Baron de Saint-Remi de Valois, and his safe return. They +then conducted me to the mansion of my ancestors, and round the grounds +of the patrimonial estate. This mansion, this noble estate, thought I +to myself, might have been possessed by the descendants of those who +acquired it by valour,[24] and enjoyed it with hospitality. I lamented +the ravages of luxury: I thought of the credulity and easy temper of my +father, who sacrificed everything to the extravagance of his wife. Had it +not been for these he might have sustained the dignity of his ancestors, +and his miserable offspring have maintained that position to which they +were by birth entitled.”[25] + +To provide herself with a suitable _trousseau_, Mademoiselle de Valois +had been obliged to raise one thousand livres on a mortgage of her +pension for two years; while, to defray the expenses incident to the +wedding, M. de la Motte, on his part, sold for six hundred livres a horse +and cabriolet which he had only bought a short time previously on credit +at Lunéville, where his corps was doing garrison duty.[26] + +We will close this chapter with a pair of portraits of Monsieur and +Madame de la Motte, which their friend Beugnot has sketched for our +benefit. “M. de la Motte,” observes his rival, “was an ugly man, but well +made and skilled in all bodily exercises, whilst, despite his ugliness, +the expression of his face was amiable and mild. He did not exactly lack +talent, still what he possessed was frittered away on trifles. Destitute +of all fortune, he was clever enough to get head over ears in debt, and +only lived by his wits and on the trifling allowance of three hundred +francs a year which his uncle, M. de Suremont, was obliged to make him to +enable him to retain his position in the gendarmerie.” + +With regard to Madame de la Motte, Beugnot says: “She was not exactly +handsome, was short in stature, slender, and well formed. Her blue +eyes were full of expression and over-arched with black eyebrows; her +face rather long; her mouth wide, but adorned with fine teeth, and, +what is the greatest attraction in such a face as hers, her smile was +enchanting. She had a pretty hand, a very small foot, and a complexion of +dazzling whiteness. When she spoke her mind exhibited no sign of acquired +knowledge, but she had much natural intelligence, and a quick and +penetrating understanding. Engaged in a perpetual conflict with society +from the time of her birth, she had learned to disdain its laws, and had +but little respect for those of morality.” + +M. Beugnot adds the following anecdote: + +“When I returned home that evening my father mentioned to me that fifteen +or twenty years previously, whenever he went to collect his rents in the +parish of Essoyes, the curé of Fontette never failed to tax his purse for +the poor children of Jacques de Saint-Remi, who were huddled together +in a dilapidated hovel with a trap-hole in front, through which soup, +vegetables, broken victuals, and other charitable doles were passed by +the neighbours.”[27] + + + + +VI. + +1780–1782. + +COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE.—IN BARRACKS AT LUNÉVILLE.—ON A FIFTH FLOOR IN +PARIS.—ENSNARES THE GRAND ALMONER. + + +From the day of her marriage, in the summer of 1780, our heroine assumed +the title of Countess de Valois de la Motte, though on ordinary occasions +she dropped the former portion of it, retaining only the name of De +la Motte, by which she afterwards became so notorious. The wedding +did not take place a day too soon, for in the course of the same or +following month the countess gave birth to male twins, that died a few +days afterwards. Thereupon Madame de Suremont, glad of an excuse for +getting rid of her new relation—the old lady used to say to Beugnot that +“the most unhappy year of her life was the one she spent in the society +of this demon,”—turned the newly-married couple out of her house.[28] +They took refuge for a time with Madame de la Tour, a married sister +of the count’s—the young gendarme following the example of his wife, +had likewise assumed a title—but were finally obliged to rely on their +own resources, which, as may be supposed, were of the narrowest. De la +Motte himself had nothing but his sword, and the countess had not even +her scanty pension to depend upon. Now commenced with them that life of +shifts and expedients, which is certain in the long run to disappoint +those who are unhappily reduced to enter upon it, which subverts the +principles, destroys the best habits of even the firmest characters, and +too frequently culminates in crime. By borrowing money from friends and +neighbours so long as they were disposed to lend it, by occasional loans +from money-lenders at exorbitant rates of interest, by running into debt +with the tradespeople, and by certain small bounties received from Paris, +to assist the descendants of Henri II., in answer to supplicatory letters +written by the countess, the newly-married couple dragged on as best they +could. + +The count’s leave of absence having at length expired, he was summoned +back to garrison duty at Lunéville, a dull, decaying, fortified town, +composed of straight streets and regular buildings, where in subsequent +years the treaty of peace was signed between France and Austria which +gave to the former the coveted frontier of the Rhine. The palace built +by Philip, duke of Lorraine, grandfather of Marie-Antoinette, was then, +as now, a _caserne de cavalerie_, and it was to this barrack that Count +de la Motte took his wife to share with him his incommodious quarters. +Here madame’s “lively complexion” and “excess of vivacity,” as she styles +them, were not long in exercising their sway over the more susceptible of +her husband’s comrades. In September of the following year the count and +his wife had determined upon proceeding to Paris to urge the Marchioness +de Boulainvilliers to interest herself in their behalf, a project which +was knocked on the head by the count’s commanding officer, the Marquis +d’Autichamp,—whose too familiar intimacy with Madame de la Motte was the +talk not merely of the corps, but of the town,[29] and who had himself +contemplated escorting madame on her journey to the capital,—peremptorily +refusing the count any further leave of absence. Just at this time +intelligence reaches the De la Mottes that the Marquis and Marchioness +de Boulainvilliers are at Strasbourg, only some threescore miles or so +away. Commanding-officer d’Autichamp, we suppose, relents; for the count +gets a few days’ leave, and to Strasbourg the pair hasten as fast as a +French diligence of the eighteenth century will carry them, which is, +however, not fast enough, for on their arrival they learn from the great +charlatan of the age, Count Cagliostro, who just then happens to be +showing off in the capital of Alsace, that the Marquis and Marchioness +de Boulainvilliers have departed for Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan’s +Palace at Saverne. There was nothing else but to give chase, so off the +De la Mottes start, and on their arrival in the vicinity of the episcopal +château, put up at some little inn, whence the countess writes to Madame +de Boulainvilliers, apprising her that she is in the neighbourhood, and +asking when she may be permitted to call upon her. The next day she is +honoured by a visit from the marquis, who escorts her over to his wife. +Some few days afterwards, while the marchioness and madame are taking a +carriage drive together, they meet the Cardinal de Rohan, Grand Almoner +of France, to whom Madame de Boulainvilliers introduces her _protégée_, +and strongly recommends her to this powerful prelate’s kindly notice.[30] + +On her return home to barrack quarters, if home indeed they could be +called, the countess harped, day after day, upon her fancied claims to +the three estates that formerly belonged to her family, and no wonder if +she at length came to the conclusion that Paris and Versailles, rather +than a dull garrison town like Lunéville, were the proper spheres for her +enterprise and ambition. To Paris, therefore, she resolved to go; but, +alas! how was she to obtain the means of defraying the expenses of her +journey and of her sojourn in the capital? Commanding-officer d’Autichamp +would willingly escort her there, and pay all travelling expenses, but +just then her husband is jealous and cannot be brought to consent. +Fortunately for the countess, one of her Bar-sur-Aube friends—the father +of the M. Beugnot, of whom we have already spoken—came to the rescue with +a loan of one thousand livres, and to her honour it may be recorded, +that whenever afterwards she spoke of this service she was always much +moved, and, what is perhaps more to her credit, during the period of +her dishonest prosperity she paid the money, as she paid all the debts +she had contracted at Bar-sur-Aube, her adopted home. However corrupt +her general character may have been, she was certainly not wanting in +gratitude. + +This thousand livres she and her husband divided equally between them, +and they then set forth in different directions it is true, but still +with the same object at heart, namely, to procure the restitution of +the Saint-Remi estates. The countess went to Paris to press her claims +on the attention of those in power. The count resigned his post in +the gendarmerie, never to do, from that hour forward, another day of +honest work during the remainder of his long life, and betook himself +to Fontette to search for evidence on the spot, and to ascertain the +exact nature of the steps requisite to be taken to recover possession of +this and the adjacent Saint-Remi domains. Arrived at his destination, he +caused a _Te Deum_ to be chanted in the church, and, as the congregation +were leaving, scattered handfuls of silver among the gaping crowd, who, +on experiencing this mark of favour, did not hesitate to hail him as +their lord; and lord of Fontette he was by courtesy, so long as his money +lasted, which, unfortunately for the rustics of the place, was not long. +His last livre dissipated, the count was only too glad to get back again +to Bar-sur-Aube to such a home as his sister was able to offer him.[31] + +The countess, on her part, so soon as she arrived in Paris, proceeded to +set to work. She wrote at once to young Beugnot, who was then prosecuting +his legal studies in the capital, informing him that she had a letter +for him from his father, and asking him to call upon her. Beugnot lost +no time in complying with her request, and found the purport of the +letter was to urge him thoroughly to examine the countess’s claims to +the Fontette, Essoyes, and other estates, and see if there was any real +foundation for them. “I took the affair,” says Beugnot, “seriously in +hand as my father desired me, and readily enough found the letters patent +of Henri II. which conferred the domains in question on his natural son, +but I could not trace the various deeds diverting the possession of them +from the Saint-Remis into the hands of the different proprietors who +were in nowise connected with the family. One of the latest of these, a +M. Orceau de Fontette, superintendent of Caen, had exchanged the lands +held by him with the king. This was a favourable circumstance for us in +the prosecution of our claim, as the king had only to forego his hold +upon the property to restore to the Saint-Remis one of the possessions of +their forefathers.”[32] + +The young lawyer now proceeded to compose a “Mémoire,” wherein, in +true French style, he spoke of his client’s case as “one more insult +of fortune to the Valois, the hard lot of a branch detached from that +ancient tree which had so long covered with its royal shade France and +other European states. I interspersed my composition,” says Beugnot, +“with those philosophical reflections then so much in fashion, and asked +the Bourbons to pay the natural debt of those from whom they had received +so magnificent a heritage. I submitted my composition to M. Elie de +Beaumont, a celebrated advocate, and also a man of taste. ‘It is a pity,’ +remarked he, ‘that we cannot bring this business before the Parliament; +it would make your reputation.’ Alas! I did not even receive for my +labour the honours of print. People said it was entirely a matter for the +royal favour, and that to print the ‘Mémoire’ would be contrary to the +respect due to the king.”[33] Beugnot thereupon composed a new “Mémoire,” +or rather petition to the crown, which was in due course presented, +though without producing the result which the sanguine expectations of +the countess and her advocate anticipated from it. + +Early in November, 1781, either by previous invitation from the +marchioness or of her own accord, Madame de la Motte presented herself +at the Hôtel de Boulainvilliers, bent upon jogging the marchioness’s +memory with reference to a commission in the dragoons which she had made +a half promise to obtain for the count, her husband, and intending to say +a few words respecting her own claim to the Saint-Remi estates, when, +to her surprise and grief, she found her benefactress lying dangerously +ill. She remained and tended her until her death, which took place in +about three weeks; yet, strange to say, she was unable to forego her +passion for intrigue even at a time like this, for she admits, while the +marchioness was lying past hope of recovery, having had a _tête-à-tête_ +interview with the marquis, on the length of which she was rallied by +the gentlemen staying at the hôtel. During this interview the marquis, +she tells us, made her “a downright proposal” to the effect that on his +wife’s death she should reside with him as his mistress, he engaging to +procure for her husband a post in some regiment which should “prevent him +from troubling them too often.” All this she calmly listened to, and when +the marchioness was dead still continued to reside under the same roof +with the man who had made this disgraceful proposition to her, exposed, +as she herself admits, to his daily persecutions. The old reprobate, too, +was always upbraiding her, she says, with “loving other men better than +him,” and openly accused her of carrying on an intrigue beneath his roof +with the old Bishop of Langres, who visited her much more frequently than +the marquis thought necessary or prudent. + +After a while the count, who had been rusticating ever since his Fontette +expedition at Bar-sur-Aube, turned up at the Boulainvilliers hôtel to +look after his wife, when the marquis, in revenge, as madame says, for +the contempt with which she invariably treated him, endeavoured to arouse +the jealousy of her husband by accusing her—falsely, of course—with being +too intimate with his son-in-law, and of sundry unbecoming familiarities +with the count’s cousin, who had pawned his watch to defray the expense +of a three-days’ frolic with the countess at Versailles. However, Count +de la Motte, according to his wife, “had too much good sense to give +any credit to these insinuations; he listened attentively, but did not +believe a single iota of them.”[34] + +While the countess was residing under the Boulainvilliers roof she was +constantly on the look-out to push her own or her husband’s fortunes, and +eventually succeeded in talking over the Baron de Crussol, son-in-law +of the Marquis de Boulainvilliers, to procure M. de la Motte a post in +the Count d’Artois’s body-guard. This necessitated the count’s removal +to Versailles; so, turning their backs on the Hôtel de Boulainvilliers, +where the marquis had for some time past adopted an unpleasant system of +retrenchment in order to bring madame to “his way of thinking”—in other +words, had placed the descendant of the house of Valois and her tall and +hungry spouse on exceedingly short commons—the pair went forth in search +of whatever Fortune might please to send them. + +From certain hints dropped by the countess it is evident that she had +grown disgusted with the avarice and meanness rather than with what +she styles the “detested attentions” of the marquis, who, had he only +loosened his purse-strings, and dispensed his bounty with a liberal +hand, had been looked upon favourably enough, and possibly had been the +means of saving Cardinal Prince de Rohan from getting entangled in the +countess’s toils. + +It is not to be supposed that at this epoch of her career Madame de la +Motte had forgotten her introduction to this prelate, or that she omitted +to remind him of it, and of Madame de Boulainvilliers’ recommendation +of her to his notice and sympathy. Was he not, in fact, Grand Almoner +of France, and, by virtue of his office, dispenser of the king’s and a +nation’s bounties? and humiliating though she might pretend it to be for +one who had the blood of the Valois in her veins to have to appeal to the +servant of the sovereign instead of to the throne itself, the pill, if a +trifle bitter, must nevertheless be swallowed. + +Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan, at this time in his eight-and-fortieth +year, is described as a tall, portly, handsome-looking man, with a +slightly ruddy complexion, bald forehead, and almost white hair. There +was a noble and easy bearing about him,[35] and his manners are said to +have been singularly agreeable so long as he kept his temper, of late +grown exceedingly choleric, under restraint. He was weak and vain, and +credulous to a degree; anything but devout, and mad after women.[36] +Unrestricted by his priestly office, he led a notoriously dissolute life, +which scandalized even the loose moralists of that loose epoch; still, he +was commonly looked upon as a good-enough sort of man so far as little +acts of kindness and generosity were concerned, more especially, too, +when the suppliant happened to be of the fair sex, and youthful, and a +beauty withal. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that he responded +favourably to the countess’s first and second appeals. This gave her +hope; and, the better to profit by the grand almoner’s liberality, and +to secure his influence in support of her claims, she took an apartment +in Paris during the summer of 1782 within a short distance of his hôtel. +It was a poor sort of a lodging, consisting merely of two ill-furnished +rooms on the topmost _étage_ at the Hôtel de Reims, in the Rue de la +Verrerie, a narrow, ill-paved, irregularly-built street—devoted at the +present day, not to glass factories or warehouses, as its name would +imply, but to grocery, soap, candle and dried fruit stores, and to +locksmiths’ shops, every one of which hangs out its monster red or golden +key by way of sign—running from the Rue des Lombards into the Rue de +Bercy, which intersects the Rue Vieille-du-Temple, where the Hôtel de +Strasbourg, or Palais-Cardinal, as it was sometimes called, in which for +the moment all the countess’s hopes are centred, was situated. + +This hôtel built in the year 1712 by Cardinal Constantine de Rohan, +uncle of the grand almoner, on a portion of the gardens of the Hôtel de +Soubise, is now the National Printing Office, and internally retains no +traces of what it was when Prince Louis de Rohan lived here in state +befitting the dignity of a prince of the German empire and a cardinal of +the Holy Roman Church. The entrance gateway and the buildings forming +the external boundaries of the court in front of the hôtel are, with +the exception of some evident alterations, much the same as they were +in the days when the Countess de la Motte was a frequent visitor at +the Palais-Cardinal. The court itself is divided by parallel ranges of +buildings at right angles with the principal front, and a gateway on the +right-hand side leads to what was evidently the stable-court, where a +noble bas-relief by Couston, representing the watering of the horses of +the sun, with the animals full life-size, may be seen over one of the +arched entrances to the stables—those stables where the horse of one of +the cardinal’s heyducs dropped down dead on a memorable occasion of which +we shall by-and-by have to speak. + +The principal façade of the De Rohan hôtel has undergone only some slight +alteration since the grand almoner’s time, but it is far different +with the interior; the grand staircase has been removed, and the +magnificent _salons de réception_ have been converted into _bureaux_ for +the officials attached to the national printing establishment. In the +principal waiting-room are four paintings by Boucher, said to have formed +part of the original decorations of the Palais-Cardinal: one represents +Mars attiring for the wars, with Venus holding his shield and Cupid +handing him his helmet; another shows Mars reposing, with Venus, who +looks wonderfully like a French marchioness of the eighteenth century, +with even a scantier allowance of drapery than usual, reclining beside +him on a cloud; a third portrays Juno with her peacock, the immortal Jove +facing her, and Boreas and Æolus at his feet, blowing as though they +would burst; while in the fourth subject we have Neptune ruling the waves +with his trident, and a trio of lusty sea-gods spurting water out of long +conch-shaped shells. + +The garden front of the Palais-Cardinal is far more elegant than the one +which looks upon the court; being decorated with lofty columns surmounted +with enriched capitals, and having sundry emblems as well as the armorial +bearings of the house of Rohan sculptured on the projections of the +façade. Only a small portion of the palace garden now remains to it, the +chief part being covered over with long ranges of offices in which the +workpeople attached to the national printing establishment ply their +several callings. + +The Countess de la Motte was woman of the world enough to know that much +may be accomplished by personal solicitation when written applications +are of little or no avail. The Cardinal de Rohan too had a reputation for +gallantry; and as for the countess herself, she tells us in her “Memoirs” +that “her face, if not exactly handsome, had a certain piquancy about it +which, combined with her vivacity (Beugnot admits her smile was perfectly +enchanting), supplied in her the want of beauty so far as to lay her open +to the importunities of designing men.” She therefore sought an audience +of the grand almoner, and, finding that this would be accorded her, +called upon young Beugnot the day before to beg three things of him—his +carriage, his servant to follow her, and himself to accompany her. “All +these,” said she, “are indispensable, since there are only two good ways +of asking alms—at the church door, and in a carriage.” “I did not,” +observes Beugnot, “raise any difficulties as to the first two points, +but I peremptorily refused my arm, as I could only have presented myself +with her before the Cardinal de Rohan in the character of her advocate, +after his eminence had been notified of my coming, and had given his +permission.”[37] Madame was, therefore, constrained to present herself at +the cardinal’s hôtel without any other escort beyond the footman lent to +her by her friend. + +At the first interview Madame de la Motte had with the cardinal, the +latter, as might have been expected from his well-known character +for gallantry, proved incapable of resisting the countess’s artful +allurements, and she, bent on completing the conquest which she felt she +had made, was careful on the occasion of subsequent visits to the Hôtel +de Strasbourg, to pay the utmost attention to her toilet—decking herself +out in her finest feathers, putting on her most coquettish airs, and +making the magnificent saloons of the Rue Vielle-du-Temple redolent with +the odour of her perfumes.[38] + + + + +VII. + +1783. + +OSCILLATES BETWEEN PARIS AND VERSAILLES.—SENDS OUT BEGGING LETTERS AND +PETITIONS.—FAINTS IN MADAME’S SALLE D’ATTENTE.—DESPAIR. + + +At the time the countess was engaged in setting her snares for the +Cardinal de Rohan, she dined one day with our young Bar-sur-Aube +advocate, who saw that she was in most excellent spirits, which every +now and then exhaled in malicious remarks respecting their common +acquaintances. “I tried in vain,” says Beugnot, “to lead her to more +serious talk. Irritated at last, I threatened to abandon her entirely +to her folly. She answered me gaily that she no longer had need of me. +My brow contracted; she saw that she was likely to lose me, and took +the trouble to explain to me that I had been exceedingly useful to her +in unravelling the particulars of her claim, in composing ‘mémoires’ +and petitions for her—in a word, in all the duties of an advocate—but +that she had now arrived at a point where she required counsel of a +different kind. She wanted some one who could point out to her the way +of getting at the queen and the _contrôleur-général_, and who knew +equally well what was necessary to be done as to be left undone—in a +word, one who was alike capable of concocting a good intrigue, and of +carrying it successfully through. It was necessary that I should now +hear from her lips, without making an ugly grimace with my own, that in +an affair of this kind she looked upon me as the most foolish of men; +she had, indeed, already taken several steps without asking my advice. +Her husband’s condition, she went on to say, was one of ridicule to all +the world, and consequently an obstacle to her advancement. She had made +him enter as supernumerary into the Count d’Artois’ body-guard, which +would give him a sort of standing, which the gendarmerie did not. She had +found means, moreover, to get him to Versailles to perform his duties +there, and where, at least, he would not be so sorry a sight as he was +in the country. She observed that she was about to reside at Versailles +herself, in order to secure an opportunity of getting at the queen, and +of interesting her majesty in her favour. This was the first time,” +remarks Beugnot, “that she pronounced the name of her sovereign in my +presence.”[39] + +At Versailles, which at this period was crowded with intriguers and +adventurers, living for the most part by their wits, the countess +resided, first of all with the widow Bourgeois, in the Place Dauphine, +whence she speedily removed to the Hôtel de Jouy, in the Rue des +Récollets, a long narrow street leading on to the immense Place +d’Armes, in front of the château. Some of its houses—built in strict +accordance with the edict promulgated by the _grand monarque_ at the +time a new Versailles was springing up in the neighbourhood of his vast +palace, namely, only a single storey high, with attics, and roofed with +slate—evidently date back to the days of Louis XIV. The Hôtel de Jouy, +where the countess had her quarters, is now an ordinary dwelling-house, +lofty and narrow, with a certain air of respectability about it, situated +at the far end of the street (No. 23),[40] in an opposite direction to +the château. + +Having next to nothing to live upon, it is not to be wondered at that the +De la Mottes were soon deeply in debt The countess, it is true, converted +her apartment into a kind of office, whence she periodically sent forth +letters of supplication to the nobility for relief, and petitions to the +crown praying for the restoration of the Saint-Remi domains; but although +she urged her suit with audacious pertinacity, the result seems to have +fallen far short of her expectations. Fortunately for her there was +always the Cardinal de Rohan to fall back upon, and the snares which she +laid for him appear to have been set to some purpose, for ere six months +had gone by, Madame de la Motte had so far improved her acquaintance +with the grand almoner, who even assisted her in the composition of her +petitions and memorials,[41] as to become convinced—in accordance with +the rule she had laid down, that alms could be only effectively asked +for at the church-door or from a carriage—that a more respectable lodging +was indispensable to enable her to profit by the opportunities which this +intercourse seemed to open out to her. There were, moreover, other and +most pressing reasons for quitting the Hôtel de Reims. The De la Mottes +were fifteen hundred and eighty francs in debt to their landlord, who +had latterly not only lodged, but boarded them; in addition to which +the countess had quarrelled with the landlady, and had attempted, it +was said, to throw her downstairs.[42] The result was a police case, +and their ejectment from the premises. A “spacious _appartement_” the +rent of which was twelve hundred francs, was therefore hired by them +in Paris, in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles (No. 13), at that time a quiet +and very respectable street leading out of the Rue Saint-Louis, now the +Rue Turenne, and consisting entirely of private houses, within sight, +too, of the Place Royale, where three centuries ago stood the ancient +Palais des Tournelles, at the tournament in front of which Madame de la +Motte’s royal ancestor, Henri de Valois, lost his life, and almost in a +direct line (in an opposite direction to the Rue de la Verrerie) with +the cardinal’s hôtel, from which it was distant only a couple of short +streets, or some five or six minutes’ walk. Owing to their straitened +means the De la Mottes were unable to furnish their new _appartement_ +until the month of May, 1783, and in the meantime madame, when not at +Versailles, was obliged to live _au cinquième_ with the mother of her +_femme de chambre_,[43] and yet she pretends that at this time she kept +five servants, male and female, and a couple of carriages.[44] + +This was mere vain boasting. She was not yet in a position to ask alms +from a carriage, but was still obliged to send her begging letters +through the post, or be herself the bearer of them. One of these +missives, written at this particular epoch, and evidently addressed +to some person in an official position—possibly to M. d’Ormesson, the +then controller-general, or to M. de Breteuil, minister of the king’s +household—has been preserved, and furnishes a fair specimen of her style +of appeal to persons in power—a little flattery, more or less hypocrisy, +allusions to her high descent, and a covert threat or two. We extract its +main passages, which we have translated as closely as the bad handwriting +and worse spelling of the original document admitted of our doing. + + “You have done me the honour, sir, of informing me that you + have caused to be remitted to M. Lenoir several notes which I + have sent you; but I believed that you, sir, would have had the + goodness to oblige me, who am more sensible than any one of + the confidence which the king has in you. You are too just to + see any harm in there being granted me so small a sum as has, + to my knowledge, just been accorded to a person who is not so + much to be pitied as I, nor with so much right. I cannot think + who it is that has usurped the place due to my misfortunes.... + I know that M. de Forge [intendant of the royal fisheries and + forests, of which one or more of the Valois estates was part] + is very much opposed to my having the estate which I ask by + right; still I cannot conceive that it matters to him whether + I or another am tenant of the king.... I have the honour of + assuring you that I had yesterday only a single livre (franc), + consequently I may well hope to improve my fortunes.... It + is you, sir, and your good faith that console me. I am very + sensible that you are not unmindful of my misfortunes. I + believe that you told me you would speak to M. de Vergennes. + I have inquired if this matter is under his control, and am + assured it is on you alone that it depends. I recommend myself, + therefore, to your kindness.... It is not my intention to offer + a menace to any one in declaring that I shall end by throwing + myself at the feet of the king, and acquainting him with all + my misfortunes. If you, sir, cannot lend me your assistance, + I beg you to have the goodness to cause to be returned to + me the documents which I have had the honour to send you. I + shall see, on the day of the audience, whether it will not be + possible for me to change my lot, and for my efforts to get + me accorded the trifling sum I have asked. M. Lenoir sent me + yesterday a safe conduct, which M. Amelon requested of him on + my behalf, for a large sum which I have owed these two years + past, but which has not yet reduced me to sell my furniture, + and thereby cause scandals which would assuredly have been + aimed at me. Nevertheless, there is no help for it; I shall + be forced to make away with it so that I may live. God has not + yet determined my fate, and, if Providence does not show pity + on me, people will have to reproach themselves at seeing me + come to a most miserable end. I am not ashamed to tell you, + sir, that I am going out into the world to beg. I have borrowed + from the Baron de Clugny, of the Ministry of Marine, three + hundred livres to enable me to live, which, counting on your + goodness, I have promised to return him in a week’s time. No + one, sir, has so much reason to complain as I have—my husband + without a post, my sister for a long time on my hands, has, of + course, contributed to my debts. People may do as they please + with me; still, I say it is frightful to abandon a relation of + a king, whom he has himself recognised, and who is in the most + frightful position. You will, doubtless, sir, consider me very + unreasonable, but I cannot keep myself from complaining, since + not even the smallest grace is accorded me. I am no longer + surprised that so many people are driven into crime, and I can + say, moreover, that it is religion alone that keeps me from + doing wrong.... + + “I have the honour to be, with all the attachment of which you + are deserving, Sir, + + “Your very humble, very obedient Servant, + + “COUNTESS DE VALOIS DE LA MOTTE. + + “Paris, May 16th, 1783.”[45] + +Unless she desired to have a couple of strings to her bow, we can hardly +imagine the “safe conduct” referred to in the foregoing letter being +required by Madame de la Motte, since in her Memoirs she tells us that +the Countess de Provence interested herself to procure for her an _arrêt +de surséance_, or writ under the king’s sign manual, which not only +protected the person named in it from arrest, but saved him or her from +being harassed by suits at law as well. Madame de la Motte at the same +time obtained a “safe conduct” for her husband, the count. Convenient +documents, both of these, for individuals of their stamp. The count’s +“safe conduct” was not procured before there was pressing need of it, +for at this time the ex-gendarme was hiding from his creditors in a +little _auberge_ at Brie-Comte-Robert,[46] famous now-a-days for its +beautiful roses, a score or so of miles from Paris on the Lyons road, +and close to the Abbey of Jarcy, where his sister-in-law, Mademoiselle +de Saint-Remi, afterwards went to reside. The chances are that he had +already lost his post in the Count d’Artois’ body-guard, although Madame +de la Motte pretended that the countess was her protectress, and that the +count used to notice her “in a particular manner” whenever she went to +church at Versailles—a notice which, by the way, it has been insinuated, +subsequently ripened into a too familiar intimacy.[47] + +The furniture which, on the guarantee of a Jew, the De la Mottes +eventually succeeded in obtaining for their new _appartement_ in the +Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, was far from splendid, and it was, moreover, +every now and then being sent to some neighbour, notably to Burlandeux, +the count’s barber, to save it from being taken in execution,[48] and +not unfrequently to the pawnbrokers to provide the family with meat +and bread.[49] The countess of course kept up her intimacy with the +cardinal, on whose liberality, or call it charity if you will, she could +to a certain extent depend. If we believe the cardinal’s statement, the +donations he bestowed upon her at this period were far from being of that +prodigal character which the countess afterwards asserted them to have +been, and were more consistent with his character of priest and grand +almoner than that of lover and man of gallantry, which latter Madame +de la Motte openly insinuated was the nature of the cardinal’s then +relations towards her. The cardinal asserted that four or five louis at a +time, and at irregular and somewhat distant intervals, was the extent of +the benefactions she received from him; but he was forced to admit that +he had given her twenty-five louis on one occasion, and it eventually +oozed out that he had also made himself personally liable to a Jew +money-lender of Nancy for five thousand five hundred livres (francs), +a debt contracted by the count when he was stationed at Lunéville, and +which amount the cardinal of course eventually had to pay.[50] These +facts would seem to prove that at this period the countess had succeeded +in ensnaring her victim, preparatory to making him, as she afterwards +did, her dupe and then her instrument. + +Madame de la Motte was very much in the habit of exaggerating the amount +of the charitable gifts bestowed upon her by members of the royal +family and some few of the French nobility, and even claimed to have +received certain apocryphal sums from persons of distinction who never +once assisted her. The reason for this will be apparent enough in the +course of our narrative. In the memorials and reports published in 1786 +are various disclaimers on the part of people of rank, among others the +Duke de Chartres (afterwards Orléans Égalité), the Duke de Penthièvre, +the Duke de Choiseul, the _contrôleur-général_, &c., showing that these +exceedingly liberal benefactors, as the countess had made them out to +be, had either given nothing at all, or else that a huge disparity +existed between the sum really given and the amount pretended to have +been received. Her friend, Beugnot, moreover, speaks at this period +of sundry treats of an evening on the Boulevards, consisting of cakes +and beer, a beverage for which she had a particular liking, while, as +regards cakes, she would devour two or three dozen of these at a sitting, +making it evident that she had dined but lightly on these occasions, if, +indeed, she had dined at all.[51] She, however, most astonished Beugnot +by the voracity of her appetite when she dined with him, as she every +now and then did, at the “_Cadran bleu_” a noted tavern in the Champs +Élysées, whence on a memorable occasion, some eight years later, five +hundred and odd Marseillais, who had marched up to Paris in defence of +their fellow “patriots,” and whose march inspired the composition of +the world-renowned Marseillaise hymn, rushed forth on the grenadiers +of the Filles Saint-Thomas section, and drove them pell-mell over the +drawbridge of the Tuileries. Other friends of the countess’s tell, too, +of frequent loans of ten, fifteen, or twenty livres at a time, all of +which is tolerable evidence of semi-starvation and penury rather than of +an abundance or even a sufficiency of means. + +Spite, nevertheless, of the limited nature of their resources, there is +no doubt but that when the De la Mottes had regularly settled down in the +Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, they made pretensions to something like display. +They borrowed, for instance, a service of silver plate of a friend—a +M. de Vieilleville; and according to the countess’s own statement, M. +de Calonne, at one of the interviews she succeeded in obtaining with +him just after his appointment to the office of _contrôleur-général_, +plainly told her that she was only “shamming poverty,” and commenced +twitting her respecting her hôtel at Paris, her cabriolet, her coach, +her travelling-carriage, and her servants in livery. To convince Calonne +that whatever might be her style of living, she was nevertheless in great +pecuniary difficulties, she took him one day the tickets for numerous +articles of furniture pledged by her at the Mont de Piété, and by this +ruse succeeded in securing some small amount of official sympathy, which +developed itself in a gift of six hundred livres from the royal treasury, +on the express condition, however, that she was to make no further +appeals. + +Soon after the countess had become regularly resident in the Rue +Neuve-Saint-Gilles, she was a frequent attendant at mass at a convent +of Minimes, on the opposite side of the way, which has long since been +demolished, and barracks for gendarmerie erected on its site, but the +remembrance of which is still preserved in the nomenclature of several +of the adjacent streets. A certain Father Loth having his eye upon +so interesting an addition to the common fold, made her an offer of +a key by means of which she might let herself into the chapel to the +ten o’clock mass, attended, as he explained to her, only by persons +of her own condition. The countess accepted the offer, and a kind of +acquaintanceship sprang up between Father Loth and her, which resulted +in the former becoming a constant visitor at the De la Mottes, and +insinuating himself into the confidence of the family; and subsequently, +when brighter days dawned upon them, officiating as a sort of steward of +their household. + +Although the countess went constantly to Versailles, in the hope of +obtaining by some lucky chance access to the queen, she seems to have +been baffled in all her efforts. She had scraped acquaintance with +Desclos, one of the queen’s pages, at a man-midwife’s at Versailles,[52] +and was on gossiping terms with the gatekeeper of the Little Trianon, +but could make no further advance at court, until by a lucky chance +she one day succeeded in penetrating into the apartments of one of the +princesses. Here, whilst waiting among other visitors for her turn to be +introduced, she suddenly fell down like a person fainting from weakness, +and otherwise exhibited symptoms of great suffering. Her poverty being +known, there was instantly a rumour afoot that sheer hunger was the +cause of this debility. The incident produced considerable excitement +in the court circle, and news reaching the ears of the Countess de +Provence that a lady of rank had fainted in the _salle d’attente_, from +lack of sustenance, she flew to her assistance, and after treating her +with all the tenderness that humanity dictated, gave her some twelve or +fifteen louis to relieve her necessities. The countess, much affected +by the occurrence, is said to have mentioned it on the following day to +Marie-Antoinette, who was about to yield to the impression it made upon +her sensibility; but Louis XVI., who had received so many of Madame de la +Motte’s petitions, and had been sufficiently bored thereby, had conceived +a strong prejudice against both her and her pretensions, and pronounced +her swoon to be a mere ruse to extort money. The result was that the +queen closed her purse-strings, and Madame de la Motte took little or +nothing by her move. Most persons in her situation, after this signal +failure, would have considered their struggle for court favour as fairly +concluded, but it was far from being so with her. She was one of those +indomitable spirits gifted with a pertinacity which no mere rebuff could +check, no disappointment discourage. + +For some time past the countess had made a point of laying siege to one +controller-general after another—first to M. Joly de Fleury, then to M. +d’Ormesson, and finally to M. de Calonne, in whose antechamber she was +a constant attendant, and whom she so pestered with her petitions and +memorials and personal appeals for relief, spite of the understanding +come to when the six hundred livres were given to her, that she became +at length a kind of terror to the minister, who showered gold around +him with easy facility from a bankrupt exchequer, while, as a courtier +said, “All the world held out its hand, but I held out my hat.” To rid +himself of the countess’s importunities, and urged by Madame Elisabeth +and the Countess de Provence (who since the fainting scene had taken +some kind of interest in her) to do something towards her relief, M. de +Calonne obtained an augmentation of seven hundred livres (twenty-eight +pounds) to the De la Motte pension. Instead, however, of feeling in +any degree grateful for this act of favour, the countess tells us that +when the minister communicated the intelligence to her she indignantly +refused this “pitiful addition,” as she called it, “to her income.” +Visions of the restoration of the Essoyes, Fontette and Verpilière +estates had been floating before her eyes, and in the heat of her passion +she exclaimed, “I will oblige you, sir, to speak of my demands to the +king. Tell him, sir, that I will fix myself in this house”—the palace of +Versailles—“until he thinks proper to provide me with another home.” And +the irate countess in accordance with her threat did actually remain for +several hours, but at last took her departure, because, as she naïvely +remarks, her further stay there “would have answered no purpose.”[53] + +It must have been about this period that the countess, harassed by +pecuniary difficulties, and determined to exhaust every chance of relief +that suggested itself, ventured upon an appeal to Madame Dubarry, the +late king’s banished mistress, who clung as close upon the skirts of the +Court as she dared do, residing in her charming pavilion at Louveciennes, +within eye-shot of Versailles. Thither Madame de la Motte drove over one +day ostensibly to offer herself as _dame de compagnie_ to the dowager +queen, as she used ironically to style the once all-powerful favourite +of Louis the Well-Beloved; but Madame Dubarry, judging from the absurd +pretensions she put forward with regard to her name and birth, thought +her little fitted for the post she sought to fill, and told her that she +was not at that moment in want of a companion, adding sarcastically that +if she were, she was not great lady enough to engage one of so high a +quality as a descendant of the house of Valois. Nothing disconcerted, the +countess called a second time a few days afterwards, and made a pitiable +appeal to the Dubarry to support her claims at court, shedding floods of +tears as she spoke. But as soon as her back was turned, “La Faiblesse,” +as Marie-Antoinette was accustomed to style the Dubarry, whose heart was +none of the most susceptible, bored by the countess’s melting display, +and caring not a straw for the house of Valois or any of its bastard +descendants, flung both petition and memoir, which the countess had +presented to her, into the fire.[54] + +The countess now addressed herself to the well-known favourite of +Marie-Antoinette, the Duchess de Polignac, whose influence over her +royal mistress, whenever she chose to exercise it, was believed to be +supreme. The duchess, however, got rid of her once for all with this +freezing reply: “Madame the duchess is too much engaged for other +persons to oblige Madame de la Motte in any claim which she may have to +make of the king or the queen, who are already fatigued with numberless +applications.” The descendant of the house of Valois was cut to the +quick at the treatment she received at the hands of “this imperious +woman, whose haughty demeanour sufficiently characterises her grovelling +extraction. Was this the woman,” she exclaims, “whom in my humble station +of mantua-maker’s apprentice I had so frequently waited upon from Madame +Boussel’s to obtain payment, and who then instead of money could only +pay me with courtesy and fair promises? Is this she who before the smile +of royal favour no tradesman chose to trust, and even her mantua-maker +refused to work for any longer, and who had not even a dress in which she +could be presented at Court?”[55] + +Sick at heart, weary almost unto death, the wretched woman saw no escape +from the pecuniary embarrassments that threatened to overwhelm her, +except in suicide. Providing herself, she tells us, with a couple of +loaded pistols she bent her steps towards a wood about a league distant +from Versailles, and passing through the park, came to a large and deep +pit, which had formerly been a stone quarry. Here she prepared to carry +her resolution into effect, and had placed one of the pistols to her +right ear when thoughts of her husband stayed her hand. Flinging herself +on the ground she wept long and bitterly, and then offered up a fervent +prayer. On becoming more calm she returned home, still however mourning +her unhappy fate.[56] + + + + +VIII. + +1781–1783. + +THE DIAMOND NECKLACE AGAIN.—STILL NOT SOLD. + + +While the events narrated in the last chapter have been transpiring, +let us see how it has fared with our friends the crown jewellers and +their Diamond Necklace. M. Bassenge, after scouring Europe through, and +ascending and descending principal and back staircases innumerable, +and dancing wearying attendance in court saloons and antechambers, has +returned home without effecting a sale. “Not a crowned head of them can +spare the eighty thousand pounds. The age of Chivalry is gone, and that +of Bankruptcy is come. A dull deep-presaging movement rocks all thrones: +Bankruptcy is beating down the gate, and no chancellor can barricade her +out. She will enter, and the shoreless fire-lava of Democracy is at her +back. Well may kings a second time ‘sit still with awful eye,’ and think +of far other things than necklaces.”[57] + +Bassenge’s mission having been without result, let us turn to M. +Böhmer, and see what kind of luck has attended his efforts. On the +22nd of October, 1781, the Queen of France gave birth to a dauphin. +Böhmer, who felt this to be a favourable opportunity for him to renew +his application, flew to the palace with his casket under his arm, and +saw the king, at that moment the happiest man in the land. Louis XVI. +received the jeweller with much condescension, and taking the casket from +him, carried it to the queen, telling her, with animated looks, that he +had got a present for her. But Marie-Antoinette had no sooner recognised +the gorgeous gem which she had formerly rejected than she refused +to receive it, even at the king’s hands; nor could the most earnest +solicitations on his part abate in the smallest degree the feeling of +antipathy with which, guided by her prophetic instincts, she seems to +have regarded the fatal jewel. + +“Is it,” asked she, “that Böhmer may take girls covered with diamonds to +the opera, that you would pay him for his folly in manufacturing this +Necklace?” + +While uttering these words the queen was greatly excited. Her nurse +felt her pulse, and finding it very high begged the king not to insist +further. Louis XVI. withdrew completely disconcerted.[58] + +Now Böhmer, the crown jeweller, was a Saxon, and we all know that the +Saxons are a persevering race who do not readily desist from a pursuit. +Besides, he had gained a step; the king had as good as sanctioned the +purchase; he was won over, and in due time the queen might be brought +to relent and consent to become the possessor of the most splendid set +of brilliants in the world. Moreover she was known at one time to have +entertained a woman’s partiality for costly jewels. What could be the +reason of her present antipathy? Was it natural in one so young and +handsome? Was it consistent? Was it, indeed, sincere? + +This persecution of Marie-Antoinette, which had begun in 1774, was +continued for ten years; and every time the palace guns announced a +new _accouchement_ the indefatigable Böhmer, his casket under his arm, +was the first to carry his loyal congratulations to the feet of his +sovereign. In due time the crown jeweller became noted for this kind of +loyalty, so that whenever he was met with in the streets of Versailles, +certain wags used to point him out and ask each other, “_Serait-ce la +Reine qui accouche?_” + +Madame Campan, in her well-known work, assures us that this persistent +Saxon was for a long time the plague of the queen’s life. She relates, +among other instances of Böhmer’s persecution, that he one day presented +himself before her majesty, who had the young princess her daughter with +her at the time, in a state of unusual excitement. Throwing himself at +the queen’s feet, he burst into tears, and exclaimed that he could put +off his creditors no longer, that he was a ruined man unless she took +compassion on him and became the purchaser of his Necklace, and that if +she rejected his appeal he would throw himself into the Seine, and so +put an end to his misery. The queen reproved him mildly for his rash +threat, but at the same time told him that if he were madman enough to +put an end to his existence, it would not be she who was responsible for +the misfortune. She reminded him that she had not given the order for +the jewel, and advised him to extricate himself from his difficulties by +taking the Necklace to pieces and disposing of the diamonds piecemeal.[59] + +Mademoiselle Bertin, the queen’s milliner, asserts that at the time she +was engaged in preparing the wedding trousseau of the bride of the Infant +of Portugal, M. de Souza, the Portuguese ambassador, confided to her that +he was commissioned by his sovereign to buy for the future Infanta the +most magnificent present which could be met with in all Paris, and that +he had decided upon purchasing the crown jewellers’ Diamond Necklace. +Mademoiselle Bertin mentioned the circumstance to Marie-Antoinette the +following day, while engaged with her at her toilette. + +“I am very glad of it,” observed the queen. “I shall send for Böhmer, and +will certainly thank M. de Souza for having relieved me of this hateful +Necklace.” + +When Böhmer entered, the queen took up a book and read for some minutes +before speaking, as her habit was when she wished to evince her +displeasure, which, on this occasion, must have been the result either of +inexplicable caprice or feminine jealousy at a foreign princess becoming +the possessor of that jewel to which the negotiations and travels of +Böhmer and Bassenge had given a kind of European celebrity, and which had +caused such a sensation among queens and women. At length, laying down +her book and casting on Böhmer a severe glance, she observed: + +“I am very glad to hear, sir, that you have sold your Necklace.” + +“My Necklace, madame!” replied the astonished Böhmer. + +“Yes, your Necklace, that M. de Souza is about to send to Lisbon.” + +Böhmer having given an emphatic denial to the story, the queen, we are +told, cast on Mdlle. Bertin a withering look as if to reproach her for +having needlessly alarmed her. + +There was a reception that day, and when M. de Souza appeared, the +queen, contrary to all the rules of court etiquette, went straight up to +him and said, briskly: + +“I have to inform you, M. de Souza, that you will not have the Necklace; +it is sold.” + +M. de Souza appearing astonished, + +“You will not have it, sir,” continued she, in a tone of triumph. “I am +sorry for it.” Saying which she returned to her ladies.[60] + +Thus matters stood at the close of 1783, ten years after the order for +this ill-fated jewel had been given by the infatuated lover of Madame +Dubarry. Although all France was at this time wildly rejoicing over the +recently concluded peace between France and England, there was gloom and +depression at the Grand Balcony in the Rue Vendôme, for creditors were +still urgent and even threatening, and the question again arose: “What is +now to be done?” + + + + +IX. + +1784. + +SOI-DISANT CONFIDANT OF THE QUEEN.—AT VERSAILLES AND LITTLE TRIANON. + + +In the preceding chapters we have measured the period between the year +1756, when Jeanne de Saint-Remi, now Countess de la Motte of her own +creation, was born, and the close of the year 1783, when she had reached +the age of twenty-seven years. We have witnessed the destitution of her +early days, the dependence of her youth on the kind bounty of a noble +benefactress, and the career of adventure and precarious means suddenly +plunged into to avoid a life of religious seclusion. We have seen her +making her escape from flagrant shame by an improvident marriage; have +seen the opening of her conjugal life darkened by a new term of penury +and privation, mitigated only by a system of constant appeals for +charity. We have also seen that a long and patient probation in the +same course had proved barren and abortive in the end, her condition +being then precisely the same as it was in the beginning. We can readily +conceive that her name and her pretensions had at length come to be +regarded as little else than a by-word and a nuisance, and that the +time was at hand when the former would have no other influence beyond +provoking indignation and contempt. + +The family resources proved so far insufficient, that early in the year +1784 household goods and wearing apparel were alike in pawn at the Mont +de Piété, which is hardly to be wondered at, as the winter was one of +unprecedented severity. Heavy and constant falls of snow rendered any +kind of traffic through the streets of Paris impracticable. The Seine, +too, was frozen over, so that the transport of provisions and firewood +to the capital was entirely stopped.[61] The times were of the hardest: +the winter extended far into the year, and in the month of April the +countess solicited and obtained permission to alienate her own and her +brother’s pension—the sister, we presume, was obstinate, and would not +dispose of hers, hence her being sent adrift to shift for herself, and +becoming an inmate of the Abbey of Jarcy—to a goldsmith and money-lender, +named Grenier, for the sum of nine thousand livres.[62] This amount, +however, was insufficient to liquidate the whole of their debts, and at +midsummer the countess was forced to borrow three hundred livres from +Father Loth to pay her quarter’s rent.[63] The two pensions utterly gone, +beggary and open vagrancy loom in the distance, for the cardinal’s gifts, +however handsome they may have been at this period, go but a small way +now that ever-increasing debt is supplemented by habitual extravagance. +In a few months more the wretched adventurers will be forced to quit +their “spacious _appartement_” in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, and go +forth into the streets and highways, and in the name of Valois again +implore charity of the passing stranger. What remedy—what desperate +remedy could be devised to prevent this? + +The countess’s interview with the Countess de Provence, after the +fainting scene, had made some little noise, and reports were spread to +the effect that Madame Elisabeth, the king’s sister, had since received +her on several occasions, and had promised to support her claim for the +recovery of the Valois estates, and to recommend her case again to the +queen. We have no means of judging whether these reports were true, but +as Madame Campan admits Madame Elisabeth to have been the countess’s +“protectress,” there was in all probability some real foundation for +them. Shortly afterwards, however, other reports, which were undoubted +fabrications, got into circulation. The purport of these was, that Madame +de la Motte had been honoured by the notice of Marie-Antoinette, that she +was received privately at the Petit Trianon, and was rising rapidly in +the royal favour. To give an air of probability to this assertion, the +countess, who had contrived to scrape acquaintance with the gatekeeper of +the Trianon, managed to be seen occasionally stealing out from thence, as +though returning from one of these pretended interviews with royalty. + +No sooner did it get bruited abroad that the Countess de la Motte had +credit at court than she was applied to by that busy and motley group +of suitors—some of them in search of places and appointments, others +in quest of patronage for new inventions, or on the look-out for +opportunities to submit new schemes of taxation and finance, and others +again seeking redress of real or fancied grievances—who gather together +in the vicinage of royalty. The daring woman saw her chance, and entering +boldly on a career of imposture, began to traffic on a credit that had no +foundation, and to sell an influence which she could not exercise. This +new vocation bid fair to prove a much readier source of emolument than +her state petitions for relief. People came to her of their own accord, +waited in _her_ antechamber for an interview, conjured and supplicated +_her_ to lend them her protection, and in the meantime to permit them to +show their gratitude by anticipation, and in a substantial form. + +In this new line of business she was assisted by an old acquaintance +and former comrade of her husband’s in the _gendarmerie_, one Rétaux +de Villette, son of a late director-general of excise at Lyons, and at +this time about thirty years of age. Villette left Lyons when a lad, and +accompanied his mother to Troyes, where he completed his education. His +sister having married a captain of artillery, and being himself inclined +to a military career, he followed his brother-in-law to the schools of +Douai and Bapaume, and when this latter establishment was suppressed, +entered the _gendarmerie_, where he formed a sort of intimacy with M. +de la Motte—an intimacy which was afterwards renewed at Bar-sur-Aube, +whither his mother had removed from the neighbouring town of Troyes. +Villette having exhausted the paternal patrimony, had come to Paris to +push his fortunes. His ambition was to obtain a sub-lieutenancy in the +marshalsea, still he was not averse to turning his hand to anything +that offered itself. He was not deficient in talent, and had a certain +facility of expression; for he wrote smartish articles in the _Gazette_, +could compose pleasing enough verses, and was a very fair musician.[64] +Nevertheless he was one of those indolent, careless men, without the +slightest forethought, who cannot follow any regular calling, because +they are only stirred into activity by sudden caprices, and who too +often serve no other purpose beyond replenishing the world’s stock of +rascaldom, and doing their best to save it from dying out. Finding +that he was a suppliant for court favour, Madame de la Motte first of +all persuaded him that she could advance his interests, then that she +would procure for him some better post than a sub-lieutenancy in the +marshalsea, and finally engaged him as her secretary, and by dint of “her +piquant face, her bright and piercing eyes, her white and transparent +skin, her fine teeth, her enchanting smile, her pretty hand and little +foot, her graceful manner, and natural wit,” soon enrolled him as one of +her lovers.[65] + +We will here let the countess give her own account of her pretended +intimacy with Marie-Antoinette, an intimacy which it is impossible to +believe in for a single moment, since those who lived in the queen’s +service and society were unanimous in maintaining that the countess was +never once admitted to the queen’s presence, nor seen in the company of +any lady of her court. + +“One day,” she observes, “as I was paying my court to Madame (the +Countess de Provence), I was attacked with a sudden indisposition (the +fainting fit of which we have already spoken), which made some noise +at the palace; the queen, having become acquainted with the incident, +deigned to evince some interest in me; her majesty even sent for Madame +Patri, the principal _femme de chambre_ of Madame, to ascertain the +particulars. + +“Nothing can escape the eyes of courtiers. They remarked from that hour, +that her majesty always distinguished me by a gracious look, whenever I +appeared in her presence. The cardinal (de Rohan) surpassed everybody in +giving full rein to his conjectures. + +“As I had received his benefits, the most natural gratitude linked me +to his fate ... for him I had no secrets; he had none for me ... his +ambition was to be prime minister, mine to be a lady of influence at +Fontette.... + +“Nothing could equal the astonishment into which I was thrown one day, +when having placed myself in the line of the queen’s passage, her majesty +condescended to honour me with one of those smiles which are so hard to +be resisted. I remember that the next moment, having chanced to raise +my eyes towards him (the cardinal), I saw his own sparkle with delight. +‘Do you know, countess,’ said he, ‘that my fortune is made? it is in +your hands along with your own.’... He told me I ought not to hesitate +to throw myself at the queen’s feet on the 2nd of February, during +the procession of the blue ribbons (the order of the Holy Ghost).... +Accustomed to be guided entirely by him, I promised to do what he +enjoined me. + +“The important day arrived.... I went to the palace in full dress, and +waited in one of the saloons for the return of the procession. When +the queen was passing, I flung myself at her feet, and delivering my +petition, said to her, in a few words, that I was descended from the +house of Valois; that as such I had been acknowledged by the king; that +the fortune of my ancestors not having been transmitted to me along +with their title, I had no other resource than the king’s munificence; +that having found every one of the avenues leading to her majesty +unrelentingly closed against me, despair had driven me at last to take +the present step. + +“The queen raised me up with kindness, took my petition, and, perceiving +that I trembled, deigned to bid me be of good cheer. She then passed on, +telling me to be at ease, and assured me that due attention should be +paid to the object of my request.” + +In the first private interview she pretends to have had with the queen, +the countess relates that Marie-Antoinette said to her: + +“‘I have read your memorial, the object of which is to urge the minister +to act and bestir himself with respect to the property which belonged to +your house. Having some private reasons not to second your views ... I +cannot reconcile the desire I may have to serve you publicly, with the +inclination I feel to see you in private ... but I shall still be able to +render you indirectly the services you wish to obtain from me.’... Her +majesty concluded by presenting me with a purse.”[66] + +A few days afterwards, she tells us, she was summoned to repair to +the Little Trianon, between eleven and twelve o’clock at night! when +she received fresh proofs of the queen’s generosity. “She presented +me at parting,” says the countess, “with a pocket-book containing ten +thousand livres (francs) on the _caisse d’escompte_, and concluded by +saying: ‘We shall meet again.’”[67] Madame de la Motte then goes on to +state that it is needless to tire the reader with a repetition of the +frequent interviews she had with the queen, of whose munificence on these +occasions she received numerous proofs. “The Cardinal de Rohan,” she +says, “marked her growing favour, and insisting that his fortune was in +her hands, conjured her to let no opportunity slip of mentioning his name +to his sovereign.” + +Let us turn now to the other side of the picture, and see what is said +by persons likely to be well informed, as well as by Marie-Antoinette +herself, respecting this pretended intimacy. + +Lacretelle, whose truth and honesty are beyond question, says “the +Countess de Valois never had the least access to this princess,” and +that “one cannot read this libel (the countess’s Memoirs) without being +convinced that the queen never had any kind of communication with these +creatures, whose presence would have defiled the throne.”[68] + +The Baron de Besenval speaks of the countess in his Memoirs as “one of +those creatures who live by intrigue and the sale of their charms.”[69] +Was such a person likely to have been received privately at the Trianon? +The Baron de Besenval was a regular visitor there himself, and would have +heard of this strange and familiar intercourse if it had ever existed. + +What does Madame Campan, first _femme de chambre_ to the queen, who +enjoyed the confidence of her royal mistress, and was, moreover, +constantly in her company, and who, biased though she may seem to be in +her favour, invariably speaks what she believes to be the truth—what does +she say respecting this tissue of invention? + +“Neither the queen herself, nor any lady about her, ever had the +slightest connection with the swindler, and during her prosecution she +could only point out one of the queen’s servants (a man named Declos or +Leclos), a page of the queen’s chamber, to whom she pretended she had +delivered Böhmer’s Necklace ... Declos,[70] on being confronted with the +woman La Motte, proved that she had never seen him but once, which was +at the house of the wife of a surgeon-accoucher at Versailles, and that +she had not given him the Necklace.” Madame Campan further states that +the countess “had never even been able to make her way into the room +appropriated to the queen’s women.” The same lady also furnishes this +additional piece of testimony: + +“The queen,” she says, “in vain endeavoured to call to mind the features +of this person, whom she had so often heard spoken of as an intriguing +woman, who came frequently on Sundays to the gallery at Versailles; and +at the time when all France was taken up with the prosecution against +the cardinal, and the portrait of the Countess de la Motte-Valois was +publicly sold, her majesty desired me one day when I was going to Paris +to buy her the engraving, which was said to be a tolerable likeness, that +she might ascertain whether she could recollect in it any person whom she +had seen in the gallery.”[71] + +Marie-Antoinette herself, when questioned by Louis XVI. on the subject of +this intimate acquaintance, assured the king that she had never seen the +woman. In a few simple words she repeats her denial when confronted with +the Cardinal de Rohan, immediately preceding his arrest. And in a private +letter to her sister, written at a time when the affair of the Diamond +Necklace was making a great noise throughout Europe, Marie-Antoinette +thus denies all previous knowledge of her pretended confidant: + +“I have never seen this woman La Motte; it seems she is an adventuress of +the lowest class, with a good address and a bold air; she has been seen +two or three times on the back staircase of the Cour des Princes; this +is a scheme agreed on to deceive her dupes and to spread the belief that +she is received in my closet. The Duke de Nivernois on this occasion told +me that an adventuress from Paris had made her fortune in the days of +Madame de Maintenon by seating herself twice a week on the stairs; one +day she found the drawing-room of that lady open; she went in, and seeing +no one near she walked up to the balcony over the Place d’Armes, thus +proclaiming to every one that she was in favour with Madame de Maintenon. +We are surrounded in this place by persons of that class.”[72] + +Again, at the very last, only a few hours before her head was severed +from her body by the guillotine, she still firmly repudiated all +knowledge of any such individual. Let us refer to the report in the +_Moniteur_ of the “_Procès de Marie-Antoinette_,” and see what transpired +in reference to the matter. + +“_The president to the accused_: Was it not at the Little Trianon that +you first met with the woman La Motte? + +“_The accused_: I never once saw her. + +“_The president_: Was she not your victim in the business of the famous +Necklace? + +“_The accused_: She could not have been, since she was unknown to me. + +“_The president_: So then you persist in denying that you were acquainted +with her? + +“_The accused_: Mine is not a system of denial; what I have said is the +truth, and that I will persist in.” + +Of course it was the truth; had it not been, Fouquier Tinville had +abundant means of proving the contrary; all France in these days was +overrun with spies and informers. The public accuser had really no facts +to allege against the prisoner in regard to Madame de la Motte, and +confessed he had not when ordered to bring the queen to trial. Had there +been the least particle of evidence to prove Marie-Antoinette’s intimacy +with so abandoned a woman, the attorney-general of the Revolutionary +Tribunal would have been only too glad to have brought it forward. He +had not far to go, for among the witnesses actually produced were the +Count d’Estaing, formerly in command at Versailles, who knew both the +queen and the countess, and was a frequent dinner-guest of the latter in +the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles; and Renée Sévin, for six years under-_femme +de chambre_ to Marie-Antoinette, yet to neither of these did he put a +single question upon the subject. Again, there was Reine Millot, another +old servant at Versailles, “_bonne citoyenne, excellente patriote_,” +who did her best to sacrifice her unhappy mistress, deposing that the +Count de Coigny had told her that the queen had sent two hundred million +francs to her brother, the Emperor Joseph, to enable him to make war +upon the Turks, and that she would end by ruining France; and further, +that she knew from different people that the queen had conceived the +design of assassinating the Duke d’Orléans, which when the king heard +of, he ordered her to be immediately searched, and two pistols being +found upon her, he commanded her to remain in her own apartment for the +space of fifteen days.[73] A witness such as this would have been only +too eager to repeat all the scandal current at Versailles respecting the +Countess de la Motte and the queen. Moreover, Count de la Motte himself +was known to be living at Bar-sur-Aube at the time of the queen’s trial, +and could have been readily enough produced, only Fouquier Tinville was +perfectly well aware that he could depose to nothing in the slightest +degree incriminatory of her whose death, though already determined on, +the revolutionary party would have been glad enough to have justified on +such a poor pretence even as complicity in the Necklace fraud. + + + + +X. + +1772–1774. + +HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL, COMMENDATOR, GRAND ALMONER, PRINCE-BISHOP +LOUIS-RENÉ-ÉDOUARD DE ROHAN. + + +Among the tribe of solicitors who put faith in the report of Madame de la +Motte’s intimacy with Marie-Antoinette, and sought to turn it to their +own advantage, certainly by far the most sanguine of them all, was her +“friend” and benefactor, Louis-René-Édouard de Rohan, Cardinal of the +Holy Roman Church, Bishop and Prince of Strasbourg, Prince of Hildesheim, +Landgrave of Alsace, Grand Almoner of France, Commander of the Order of +the Holy Ghost, Commendator of St. Waast d’Arras, Superior-general of +the Royal Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, Abbé of the Chaise-Dieu, Master +of the Sorbonne, Member of the French Academy, &c., &c. The very man who +had been wont to bestow alms upon a descendant of the house of Valois +was now almost ready to cringe to the former recipient of his bounty +for favour and support. This dissolute and intriguing prelate, who was +destined to attain such unenviable notoriety through his connection with +the Countess de la Motte, was born on the 27th of September, 1734, and +at this period was consequently verging on his fiftieth year. He was, +as we have already mentioned, a tall, stout, handsome-looking man, with +a fresh-coloured complexion, bald forehead, and whitish grey hair. His +manners were amiable; he was fluent in conversation, and though his +talents, as the upshot proves, were of a very inferior order, still +he was not deficient in that dexterity which goes a long way towards +fitting a man for the conduct of public business—he having, with the +help of his shrewd secretary, the Abbé Georgel, rather cleverly filled +the post of Ambassador at the court of Vienna for between two and three +years. He had been sent to that court in January, 1772, to supersede the +Baron de Breteuil, thereby making a mortal enemy of that minister, now +in high favour with the sovereign. But this was not all. He had also +incurred the dislike, and even hatred, of the Queen of France, partly +in consequence of having repeated to the Empress Maria Theresa certain +scandals current at the French court respecting the unbecoming levity +of her daughter, then dauphiness—who, by-the-way, by virtue of his +office of coadjutor at Strasbourg, he had had to receive on the occasion +of her first entry into France—and partly in consequence of a letter +written by him in an unguarded moment, wherein he reflected strongly +on the duplicity of the empress with respect to Poland. In this letter +he remarked that “Maria Theresa stands, indeed, with a handkerchief +in one hand, weeping for the woes of Poland, but with a sword in the +other, ready to cut Poland into sections, and take her share,”[74] an +observation in which there was not only point, but far too much truth +for it to pass unregarded. This letter was read and laughed over by +Louis XV., and by him repeated to the Countess Dubarry at one of her +_petits soupers_, and the countess, in her turn, gossiped about it, until +at length the affair became a court joke and reached the ears of the +dauphiness, who, whilst repressing her indignation at the time, did not +fail to treasure up the circumstance in her memory. + +In spite of the queen’s aversion, which, by-the-way, was fully shared by +Louis XVI., the cardinal, whose ambition led him to covet the office of +prime minister, fondly hoped, sooner or later, to recover his ground. +When therefore he heard, as very good care was taken he very quickly +should hear, that a lady who stood in certain tender relations towards +himself, and was under certain pecuniary obligations to him, was in +favour with the queen, the credulous dotard suspected neither deception +nor exaggeration in the report; which perhaps was hardly surprising, for +Nature, we are told, had given the _soi-disant_ new favourite a frank and +honest face in spite of her proficiency in the arts of deceit. “Without +possessing the full splendour of beauty,” observes the Abbé Georgel, +“the Countess de la Motte was gifted with all the graces of youth, her +countenance was intelligent and attractive, and she expressed herself +with fluency; moreover, the _air of truth that pervaded her recitals +invariably carried conviction along with it_.” The cardinal, only too +ready to be blinded and deluded, counselled his _protégée_ how to proceed +in order to retain and improve the position which he imagined she had +already acquired, intending, without doubt, to avail himself of her +interest to recover the good opinion of the queen, whose deep-rooted +prejudice against him was the bane of his life. + +Madame Campan speaks of the cardinal as a spendthrift, and a man of the +most immoral character, whose mission to Vienna opened under the most +unfavourable auspices, in consequence of the nature of the reputation +which preceded his arrival at that court. “In want of money, and the +house of Rohan being unable to make him any considerable advances, he +obtained a patent which authorised him to borrow the sum of six hundred +thousand livres (twenty-four thousand pounds) upon his benefices; +nevertheless he ran into debt for upwards of another million, and thought +to dazzle the city and court of Vienna by the most indecent, and, at +the same time, the most ill-judged extravagance. He formed a suite of +eight or ten gentlemen of names sufficiently high sounding, twelve pages +equally well-born, a crowd of officers and servants, together with a +company of chamber musicians, and various other retainers. But this idle +pomp did not last; embarrassment and distress soon showed themselves; his +people, no longer receiving pay, abused the ambassadorial privileges, and +smuggled with so much effrontery that Maria Theresa, to put a stop to +it without offending the court of France, was compelled to suppress the +privileges in this respect of the entire diplomatic corps.”[75] + +In those days an ambassador was not only required to be an adept in +duplicity, but he was expected, by means of bribery, or other modes of +corruption more or less dishonourable, to make himself master of all the +secrets of the court to which he was accredited. The cardinal proved +himself in this respect equal to the mission with which he was intrusted. +At the commencement of the year 1774 he discovered that the Austrian +minister, Prince von Kaunitz, had succeeded in purchasing keys of the +ciphers in which the despatches that passed between the French king and +himself and the ambassadors at Constantinople, Stockholm, Dantzic, +and St. Petersburg were written. He also discovered that the court of +Vienna had obtained copies of and had deciphered all the despatches sent +by the Duke d’Aiguillon to the various representatives of the court of +Versailles throughout Northern Europe. He learnt, too, that the main work +of interception was done at Liege, Brussels, Frankfort, and Ratisbon. At +these places copies of despatches were taken and forwarded to what was +styled the “Cabinet of Decipherers,” a department of which Baron Peckler +was the head.[76] + +How it was that the cardinal came to make this important discovery and to +profit largely by it, as he eventually managed to do, is quite a piece of +romance. The Abbé Georgel, at that time secretary to the French embassy +at Vienna, shall tell the story in his own words. + +“Returning one evening to the hôtel, the porter gave me a note carefully +sealed up, and addressed to me. I read in it as follows:—‘Be to-night, +between eleven and twelve, at a particular place upon the ramparts, and +you will be informed of matters of the very highest importance.’ An +anonymous note of this tenor, sent so mysteriously, and the unseasonable +hour appointed, might have appeared to some persons altogether dangerous +and suspicious. But I was not aware that I had any enemies, and, desirous +not to have to reproach myself with having missed an opportunity that +might never occur again of promoting the king’s service, I determined to +attend at the appointed place. But I took some prudential precautions, +by placing within a certain distance, where they could not be seen, two +persons on whom I could rely, to come to my assistance upon a signal +agreed on. I found at the place of meeting a man wrapped in a cloak, +and masked. He put some papers into my hands, and said in a feigned +undertone: ‘You have my confidence; I will therefore contribute to the +success of M. the Prince de Rohan’s embassy. These papers will inform +you of the very essential services which it is in my power to render +you. If you approve of them, come again to-morrow to’ another place +which he mentioned, ‘and bring me a thousand ducats.’ On my return to +the Hôtel de France, I hastened to examine the papers confided to me. +Their contents gave me the most agreeable surprise. I saw that we had it +in our power to procure twice a week copies of all the discoveries made +by the secret cabinet of Vienna, which was the best served cabinet in +Europe. This secret cabinet possessed in the highest degree the art of +deciphering quickly the despatches of ambassadors and of the governments +with whom they corresponded. I was convinced by the deciphering of our +own despatches and the despatches of our court to us—even those written +in the most complicated and the newest ciphers—that this cabinet had +found means to intercept and obtain copies of the despatches of several +European courts, through the treachery and audacity of the frontier +directors and postmasters, bribed for that purpose. + +“Furnished with these documents and armed with unquestionable proofs of +their authenticity, I instantly went post haste to communicate them to +the ambassador. I laid before him the samples of the political magazine, +from which we might supply ourselves. The Prince de Rohan felt the value +of it, especially to himself personally, inasmuch as this important +discovery must necessarily efface the unpleasant impressions which +the Duke d’Aiguillon had not failed to make upon the king’s mind, by +representing to him that Prince Louis, too frivolous, and too much taken +up with the pursuits of pleasure, was not so watchful at Vienna as the +service of the state required. + +“I met the masked man the following night, and gave him the thousand +ducats: when he handed to me other papers of increasing interest, and +during my whole stay at Vienna he faithfully performed his promise. +Our meetings took place twice a week, and always about midnight. The +ambassador wisely decided that the occupation arising from this discovery +should be confined to him and to myself, with an old secretary whose +discretion we knew would stand any trial. The secretary was employed +in copying for our court the papers of the masked man, to whom we were +obliged to return them. + +“A courier extraordinary was at once despatched to Versailles with the +first-fruits of our newly-discovered treasure. He was ordered not to +go to bed on his way, and to carry about his person the special packet +of secret despatches to the very end of his journey. A separate letter +communicated the manner in which this disclosure had been made to us. +Our courier returned promptly, the bearer of a despatch from the Duke +d’Aiguillon, which contained this acknowledgment of the cardinal’s +services: ‘I sincerely and feelingly share,’ said the minister, ‘both in +the satisfaction with which the king acknowledges your services, and the +credit which this discovery throws upon your mission.’ From the time of +this discovery an extraordinary courier was sent off to Versailles every +fortnight with new communications, and always with the same precautions +as before.”[77] + +Soulavie tells us it was through the Austrian ambassador at Versailles, +who, like the rest of his fraternity, had a whole host of traitorous +officials in his pay, that the court of Vienna got scent of what was +going on. The Prince von Kaunitz, suspecting that the treachery was +perpetrated in his office, had the locks of his cabinet changed, and +made a point of intrusting all the most important despatches to no one +except his private secretary. He even went the length of having one of +his clerks, of whom he entertained some suspicion, drowned in the Danube; +but all was of no avail; the masked man, according to the Abbé Georgel, +redoubled his zeal at each succeeding interview. + +Two months after the death of Louis XV. the cardinal was superseded +in his post. He had hurried off to pay his court to the new king at +Compiègne, where he was not long in becoming acquainted with the fact +that the queen was his avowed enemy. He obtained an audience of Louis +XVI., but it was brief, and by no means satisfactory. The king listened +for a few minutes to the cardinal’s explanations, and then abruptly +said, “I will let you know my pleasure.” As for Marie-Antoinette, she +positively declined to receive him, although he had a letter from her +mother the empress to deliver. The only notice she took of him was to +desire that this letter might be sent to her. As a last resource he +addressed a written communication to the king, which Louis XVI. did not +condescend to answer. The cardinal had now no longer any doubt that his +disgrace was determined upon. + +Although his downfall was really to be ascribed to the joint animosity of +Maria Theresa and her daughter, the grounds publicly put forward for it +were these. “First, the public gallantries (at Vienna) of Prince Louis +with women of the court and others of less distinction; secondly, his +surliness and haughtiness towards other foreign ministers, which it was +stated would have been attended with more serious consequences if the +empress herself had not interfered; thirdly, his contempt for religion +in a country where it was particularly necessary to show respect for it +(he had been seen frequently to dress himself in clothes of different +colours, assuming the hunting uniforms of various noblemen whom he +visited, with so much publicity that one day in particular, during the +_Fête Dieu_, he and all his legation, in green uniforms laced with gold, +broke through a religious procession which impeded them, in order to make +their way to a hunting party at the Prince von Paar’s); and fourthly, the +immense debts contracted by him and his people, which were tardily and +only in part discharged.”[78] + +After the cardinal’s return to Paris from his Viennese mission, although +his manners may have mended somewhat, his morals remained as loose as +ever. He is reported to have kept up in different quarters of the city +various small establishments to which, it is said, he was in the habit +of retiring to emulate in secret the vices of the Roman emperors. His +conduct in public appears to have been hardly more reputable, for one day +the king when hunting with the Count d’Artois in the neighbourhood of +Fontainebleau, came upon Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan with a handsome +young abbé, his hair elegantly dressed and powdered, seated beside him +in his carriage. The king remarked to his brother that the abbé only +required a little rouge to pass for a woman, but the more quick-sighted +Count d’Artois had already discovered that the pretended abbé was a +woman in disguise—none other, in fact, than one of the cardinal’s +mistresses—the notorious Marquise de Marigny.[79] + + + + +XI. + +1784. + +PRETENDED MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE CARDINAL AND THE QUEEN.—A FORGER ON THE +PREMISES.—BILLETS-DOUX BORDERED WITH “VIGNETTES BLEUES.” + + +Before the close of spring in the year 1784, the Countess de la Motte +has effectually built up her grand fabrication. Although she neglects no +opportunity of giving out that the queen desires this pretended intimacy +to be kept a profound secret, yet, like most other profound secrets, +it becomes pretty generally known; the imposture is established as a +reality, and the Grand Almoner of France has been caught in the net. This +singularly credulous individual, weighed down with places and honours, +but ambitious of more, is led to believe, quite as much by his own folly +as the countess’s craft, that a channel has at length been opened for +his reinstatement in the queen’s favour, and his elevation to the office +of prime minister. All the machinery set in motion by the impostor and +her confederates to make money by the abuse of the queen’s name is now +directed with both energy and skill upon the Prince de Rohan, whose +paternal hand is employed to diffuse the charities of a kingdom upon +those suppliants who best understand how to represent their wants, and +whose own annual revenue exceeds a million of livres (£40,000). + +Gradually, step by step, the vigilant schemer advances, her dupe’s +fancy and conceit outstepping the measured tread of the inventor, whose +falsehoods are not poured forth fast enough to fill the wide throat of +this insatiable gull. First she assures him that she has spoken and +interceded for him with the queen, who listened to her with attention +but evident suspicion; but that after having heard of several instances +of his benevolence to herself and other persons, the royal prejudice +had given way. The cardinal of course takes heart at this assurance, +and waits resignedly for the happy progress of a negotiation which +had opened so promisingly. The countess thus describes this pretended +interview with Marie-Antoinette in her Memoirs: + +“In one of my interviews with her majesty, the queen inquired how I had +supported myself before I was introduced to her. This was the moment +for naming my benefactor, but it required some caution, lest the queen +should discover that I was deeper in his confidence and counsels than it +was proper for me to appear. I attempted, if possible, to avoid giving +the least cause for suspicion, and expatiated largely, in general terms, +on the cardinal’s beneficence, charity, and benevolence; enumerated the +services he had rendered to almost every one that applied; that from +his generosity he had acquired the esteem he merited; and spoke with a +grateful warmth of the favours he had heaped upon me. + +“Her majesty regarded me with a curious and penetrating eye: she paused +for some minutes, and appeared buried in thought. This was the first +moment of my mentioning the cardinal’s name, and I had an opportunity of +reading in her majesty’s face such a degree of aversion that gave me a +very unfavourable omen of success: the strength of her antipathy I was +then first acquainted with. At length, awakening from her reverie, she +expressed her surprise at the information I had given her. She did not +think the cardinal capable of such actions.”[80] + +In due time the grand almoner is informed that majesty has at last +relented, having been of course won over by the countess’s continuous +praises of him, and by her assurances that he was far less culpable than +he was represented to be by his enemies; that he was full of penitence +and remorse for any errors he might have committed; that her majesty’s +aversion to him was his constant affliction; and that his health was +yielding to this sorrow. + +“I am authorised by the queen,” the countess one day calmly said to him, +“to request you to furnish her with a written explanation of the faults +imputed to you.” + +In compliance with this demand, the cardinal delivered to Madame de la +Motte a lengthy exculpatory statement, the main purport of which was +to accuse his niece, the Princess de Guéménée, of having intrigued to +add to his disgrace at court while pretending to act as intercessor on +his behalf. From time to time the princess appears to have allured him +with specious promises of his ultimate restoration to royal favour, and +the kind of return she exacted for her pretended good offices may be +judged of from the following passage, which, as will presently appear, +Madame de la Motte did not fail to note and profit by: “The princess was +sensible of the excessive joy she gave me,[81] and availed herself of it +_to request of me the loan of a pretty considerable sum_. I would have +parted with my whole fortune, thinking myself too happy in being useful +to a woman to whom I was so greatly beholden. The easy compliance she had +met with enticed her to make further demands, which I could not refuse, +she always knowing how to accompany them with hopes, with soothing +promises, and at the same time with difficulties she would find ways to +overcome.”[82] It is inconceivable how, after feeling convinced that he +had been the dupe of one designing woman, the cardinal could have been +such a dotard as to have been again deluded by an _intrigante_ who used +precisely the same arts, and who exacted from him precisely the same kind +of return. Such, however, was the case. + +About three weeks after the delivery of his written justification into +the hands of Madame de la Motte, the grand almoner received a note, +bordered with “_vignettes bleues_” and purporting to be written by +Marie-Antoinette. This stated that she had read with indignation of the +manner in which he had been deceived by his niece, assured him that she +had forgotten all that had passed, and desired him never again to make +the slightest allusion to a matter so unpleasant—a convenient way of +tabooing a subject, the discussion of which might have proved extremely +embarrassing to the countess, and have sooner or later exposed the fraud +then being practised upon the cardinal. The note wound up with the +following passage, the motive of which the reader will be at no loss to +divine: “The account which the countess has given me of your behaviour +towards her has made a stronger impression on me than all that you have +written to me. I hope that you will never forget that it is to her you +are indebted for your pardon.”[83] + +The plot thickens: all at once we find ourselves in deeper water. Before +we had false rumours and reports; now we have forged letters. The +cardinal having received the first one as genuine, what is to prevent +the success of others? Nothing, it would seem, so long as the countess +exercises her customary discretion. Letters and replies thereupon follow +each other in quick succession, amounting in course of time to something +like a couple of hundred in number. Of these the countess pretended +she preserved copies of thirty-one, which she subsequently printed +by way of appendix to her autobiography. Judging from these samples, +the communications which, according to her assertions, passed between +the queen and the cardinal, were not merely tender and familiar, but +occasionally touched upon subjects that were positively indelicate.[84] + +It is needless to inform the reader that, so far as the letters +attributed to Marie-Antoinette are concerned, they were one and all of +them vile fabrications. They were penned, in fact, by the prospective +sub-lieutenant of the marshalsea, of whom we have already spoken, Rétaux +de Villette, who was attached to the countess in the double capacity of +“_cavalier servente_” and secretary, and whose chief occupation seems to +have consisted in forging letters on gilt-edged paper, or paper bordered +with blue flowers (_vignettes bleues_). His _cabinet de travail_ was +madame’s bedchamber, and he worked at a little table by the bedside, on +which was a writing-case with a stock of note-paper, such as the queen +was known to be in the habit of using.[85] Monsieur de Villette resided +regularly under the De la Motte roof, for Jeanne de Saint-Remi, Countess +de Valois de la Motte, having considerable traffic in forgery, found it +necessary to keep a forger on the premises, just as other people find it +requisite to keep a secretary or a clerk. + +If we glance behind the scenes, we cannot help being impressed by this +daring woman’s strength of mind, which enables her to work so calmly +and leisurely while all the time the wolf is at the door. Not only has +she her idle husband and herself to support, but there is at times her +brother, whose pension she has sold, and her “secretary,” and she not +possessed of a single sou of regular income! To add to all this, she is +in debt to the landlord, the tax-gatherer, and the tradespeople; duns +are calling upon her every hour—duns are even waiting in the ante-room +while she is dictating forged letters to Villette. Her own pension and +that of her brother being utterly gone, the family have literally no +bread to eat but that of charity, and the bread of charity is so scanty +and bitter that the descendant of the house of Valois has become a liar +and a forger, and is preparing to become a thief, in order to add to +and sweeten it. And all this while, with her thread of life drawn, so +to speak, to a single hair, she is the emblem of composure, advancing +“stealthily, steadfastly, with Argus eye and ever-ready brain—with nerve +of iron, on shoes of felt!” whilst Cardinal Prince de Rohan, her father +in years, who lives in palaces surrounded by every luxury, holds one +of the highest offices in the state, is superior of numerous important +religious establishments and seigneur of countless manors, and has a +revenue of upwards of a million livres, is feverish with impatience. + +According to his usual practice, the Cardinal, with Versailles and the +Little Trianon closed against him, is spending the sultry summer-time +in retirement at his stately palace of Saverne, a huge building of red +sandstone in the Italian style of architecture, for the most part newly +erected by himself in place of a former edifice consumed by fire a few +years previously. At Saverne the Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan exercises +all the authority of a petty sovereign, and keeps up a well-nigh regal +state. Gentlemen of high birth do not disdain his service; and such is +the prodigality that rules in his establishment, that he has no less +than fourteen _maîtres d’hôtel_ and twenty-five _valets de chambre_![86] +Situated at the foot of the eastern slope of the Vosges, and almost +within sight of the valley of the Rhine, Saverne has its upper and +lower towns, in the former of which are situated the cathedral, the +_chancellerie_, the _hôtel de la régence_, the ancient château, and, +adjoining this last, the palatial residence of the once all-powerful De +Rohans. The principal front of this vast building looked over charming +gardens, laid out in the French style, with handsome terraces and +arcades, geometrically-shaped beds of brilliant flowers, trees trimmed +to pattern, green shady alleys, trellises covered with vines, arbours, +statues, fountains, rivulets, broad sheets of water, islands, grottos, +and kiosques, while beyond all this extended a beautiful park, at the +outskirts of which was a pheasantry, bounded by a dense forest, whose +glades in the pleasant autumn months were alive with _piqueurs_ and packs +of dogs and sportsmen in the great gold uniform of the cardinal, while +the huntsman’s horn might be heard incessantly resounding. + +The palace, on the garden side, presented one long façade ornamented with +fluted Corinthian pilasters and richly-carved cornices and mouldings, and +having countless windows of a uniform character. Its somewhat unpleasing +regularity was broken by a projecting centre part with a row of open +columns and balustrades, which formed a kind of gallery, handsomely +decorated in its different stages with ornamental friezes, statues and +bas-reliefs, and having the elaborately-sculptured armorial bearings of +the family of De Rohan and its many alliances prominently displayed at +either end.[87] + +The principal entrance to the episcopal palace conducted to a handsome +vestibule, from whence the grand staircase led to the magnificent suite +of reception rooms where the Prince de Rohan, banished from Versailles, +assembled around him a little court of his own, composed of some few +members of the old nobility related to his house, discontented courtiers +who disliked the young queen, certain too complaisant beauties, and +_petits-maîtres_ from the Paris _salons_, philosophers, prelates, and +provincial magnates, military officers from the neighbouring garrison +at Strasbourg, and the usual complement of fools and flatterers that +invariably dance attendance on the powerful and the wealthy. + +The once stately palace of Saverne is now-a-days divested of all its +former splendour. It serves alike for the _mairie_, the court of the +justice of the peace, and the corn-market; and as barracks, guard-house, +forage-stores, farriery, and stables for the troops composing the +garrison of the town.[88] + +In the summer of the year 1784 couriers bound for Paris would every now +and then sally forth from the palace gates with bags of letters, among +which there was invariably one elaborately-sealed packet addressed +to the Countess de la Motte. Enclosed in this would be a letter for +the queen, begging, entreating, praying for an interview at which the +writer might plead his cause and regain complete possession of his royal +mistress’s favour. Days and weeks go by while he is waiting and watching +for a response. Judge however, of the cardinal’s agitation when one day +the countess herself arrives unexpectedly at Saverne—having travelled +post all the way from Paris—and announces to him that the long and +eagerly-sought interview is at length accorded to him; that the queen has +consented to a midnight meeting with him in the Park of Versailles. The +countess thought, and thought rightly, that a journey of nearly three +hundred miles, undertaken on purpose to be the bearer of this welcome +intelligence, would give it all the greater weight, and would effectually +dispel any unpleasant doubts that might perchance by this time have taken +possession of the cardinal’s mind.[89] + + + + +XII. + +1784. JUNE–JULY. + +THE COUNTERFEIT QUEEN. + + +Counterfeit _billets-doux_ having been palmed off on the infatuated +cardinal as genuine with such complete success, the countess now ventures +on a singularly bold step, nothing less than the personation of majesty +itself, and actually succeeds in foisting upon the purblind prelate +_une belle courtisane_ of the Palais Royal as the beautiful, high-born +Marie-Antoinette. + +This incident of the nocturnal interview—the most daring of the many +daring schemes of which the long intrigue was composed—is so fully +and clearly, and, moreover, so artlessly, described by the “_fille du +monde_,” who was bribed to perform the character of Marie-Antoinette +on the occasion, in her memorial published at the time of the Necklace +trial, as to completely exonerate the queen from having been in any way a +party to it. Prior, however, to laying this statement before the reader, +we have something to say respecting the new character whom we are about +to introduce upon the scene. + +This young person, commonly known as Mademoiselle d’Oliva, but whose real +name was Leguay Designy, was born in Paris in 1761, and was consequently +younger than the queen by seven years. Although her reputation was +anything but spotless, she was by no means the common creature she is +ordinarily represented to have been. M. Leguay Designy, her father, had +been a respectable citizen, who at his death was found to have saved +money, and when her mother died, a few years before the event which +rendered the daughter an object of so much notoriety, Mademoiselle Leguay +Designy was left with a competent provision deposited for her in the +hands of trustees. These guardians however abused their trust, and after +dissipating the bulk of the young woman’s property, compromised the +matter by the payment of four thousand livres, which money she received +in the early part of 1784, only a few months before the day rendered +memorable by the midnight meeting in the park of Versailles. + +Mademoiselle Leguay Designy, in her memorial, drawn up by her advocate, +M. Blondel—who, perceiving that the very simplicity of his client was +her best defence, had the sagacity to let her tell her story in her own +way—thus describes how it was that she first became acquainted with the +De la Mottes, husband and wife. + +“In the month of June, 1784, I lodged,” she says, “in a small apartment +in the Rue du Jour, in the Quartier St. Eustache.[90] I was not very far +from the Palais Royal, where I used frequently to go of an afternoon for +two or three hours with a neighbour’s child, about four years old, of +whom I was very fond. + +“One afternoon, in the month of July, when I was sitting in the Palais +Royal, this child being along with me, I observed a stranger pass by +several times; he was a tall young man, and quite alone. He looked at me +fixedly, and I noticed as he came near to me that he slackened his pace +as if to survey me more attentively. There was a vacant chair two or +three feet from mine, in which he seated himself. + +“I could not avoid bestowing my attention upon him, for his eyes kept +repeatedly wandering over my person. The expression of his countenance +becomes grave and earnest, and he appears agitated by a painful and +anxious curiosity as he scans my entire figure very narrowly, whilst not +a feature of my face escapes him. + +“We met in this way in the gardens of the Palais Royal for several +successive days, until at last he addressed me, and I committed the error +of replying to him. + +“One evening on leaving him I returned home, when I found that he had +followed me without my perceiving it. Suddenly he stood before me in +my apartment. He introduced himself with every sign of respectful +politeness, and requested me to allow him occasionally to visit me. I +could not take upon myself to deny his request, and after obtaining +my consent, he was most assiduous in his calls. But I had no reason to +complain of these visits, for the young man never passed the limits of +propriety. He questioned me, however, with the kindest concern respecting +my income and future prospects, taking a lively interest in my fate. He +also spoke of powerful protectors of his own, to whom he could recommend +me, and who might be able to serve me. + +“Doubtless you are eager to know who this stranger was. It is time +to name him; it was M. de la Motte, who represented himself to be an +officer of distinguished rank, with great expectations, and supported by +illustrious patrons.[91] + +“It was, I think, on the occasion of his ninth visit, one morning at the +beginning of August, 1784,[92] that I observed his countenance overspread +with joy and satisfaction, such as he had never exhibited before. He had, +he said, the most agreeable, the most interesting things to tell me. + +“‘I have just left,’ continued he, ‘a person of very great distinction, +who spoke a great deal about you. I shall bring the lady to see you this +evening.’ + +“I awaited that evening with eagerness, counting every hour and every +moment, for I longed to see this lady of very great distinction. + +“M. de la Motte returned at night, telling me that in a few moments I +should see the person about whom he had spoken in the morning. Whereupon, +and without any further explanation, he withdrew. + +“Scarcely had he left me, before I saw a lady enter my chamber; she +was all alone—no servant was attending her. She approached me with +politeness, and with looks full of affability. + +“‘Madame,’ said she, smiling, ‘you must be rather surprised at my visit, +unknown to you as I am.’ + +“I replied that the surprise could not be otherwise than agreeable to me. + +“This person was the wife of my pretended patron; she was Madame de la +Motte, but she took good care not to say so then. I offered the lady a +chair, she drew it herself close to my own, and sat down. Then leaning +over towards me, with a look at once cautious and confiding, whilst her +eye appeared to gleam with an expression of benevolent regard, she said +to me, in a low voice, what I am about to relate. + +“‘Confide, my dear pet, in what I am going to say, I am a gentlewoman +belonging to the court.’ + +“At the same time she drew out a pocket-book, and having opened it, +showed me several letters, which she declared to me were written to her +by the queen. + +“‘But, madame,’ answered I, ‘all this is a mystery to me; I cannot +understand it.’ + +“‘You will soon understand it, my pet. I possess the queen’s full +confidence; we are like hand and glove together. She has just given me +another proof of this trust, by commissioning me to find her a person +to do something which will be explained at the proper time. I have made +choice of you, and, if you like to undertake it, I will make you a +present of 15,000 livres (francs); but the present that you will receive +from the queen will be much more considerable. I cannot tell you my name +just yet, but you shall soon be informed who I am. If, however, you do +not think my word sufficient, and desire to have security for the 15,000 +livres, we will go directly to a notary’s.’” + +[In the following paragraph the pen of the advocate has evidently been at +work.] + +“Ye simple and trustful hearts, pause for a moment after reading this +artful speech from the boldest and most audacious intriguer that ever +lived. Fancy yourselves in my place, deign to consider what my feelings +must have been, what I must have thought and imagined, I, a poor girl of +twenty-three, unacquainted with either intrigue or business. What would +you have said? What would you have done under similar circumstances? + +“From that moment I was no longer myself. I answered Madame de la Motte +that I should be proud to be able to do anything that would be agreeable +to the queen, without any motive of personal interest to prompt me. + +“She replied immediately, ‘The Count de la Motte will call for you +to-morrow evening in a carriage, and will carry you to Versailles.’”[93] + +The reader will not fail to observe the precision with which the countess +enters on her course of action; the quickness with which she manages +to come to the point. Her husband takes a fortnight to bring about the +introduction of his wife, while she settles everything at a single +interview. + +The next day the count, who is accompanied by Rétaux de Villette, takes +Mademoiselle Leguay to Versailles at the appointed time, and leaves her +with his wife in their apartments at the Hôtel de la Belle Image, kept +by the Sieur Gobert, and situated in the Place Dauphine, at that time +one of the most aristocratic quarters of the royal town. This place is +octagonal in shape, and the houses, which range from four to five storeys +high, all have some sort of pretension about them; they have either open +balustrades running along the parapets, or carved cornices with enriched +mouldings surmounting the windows, or ornamental iron balconies. Most of +them too have large _portes cochères_. The Place, which in Madame de la +Motte’s days was a large open space, where the public sedan-chairs—the +_chaises bleues_ and the _brouettes_—used to ply for hire, is to-day laid +out as a flower garden, and has in the centre a bronze statue of General +Hoche, after whom the Place is now named. The house where the countess +lodged was formerly known as “La Belle Image,” but it no longer preserves +its sign. It is, however, easily recognisable, being the first house (No. +8)[94] in the angle on the right hand, on entering the Place from the Rue +Hoche. All the apartments, with the exception of the attics, must have +been of a superior class. Now-a-days the ground floor is appropriated +to a “Magasin Anglais,” where English cutlery, and needles and pins, +and reels and balls of cotton, and patent medicines and pickles, and +old brown Windsor soap, and biscuits are exposed for sale. To return, +however, to Mademoiselle Leguay, whose memorial thus proceeds: + +“It was only then I learnt the name and condition of Madame de la Motte, +that she was the wife of Count de la Motte, that she went by the title of +Countess de Valois at Versailles, and that the queen used to write to her +in that name.” + +The _belle courtisane_ of the Palais Royal, whose resemblance to +Marie-Antoinette is said to have been singularly striking,—she +was remarkable for the elegance of her figure, had blue eyes and +chestnut-coloured hair[95]—is now dressed and tricked out in coquettish +_négligé_—a white robe _en chemise_, bordered and lined with rose colour, +and a white lace hood—for the famous interview which the Cardinal de +Rohan had so earnestly solicited of the queen, with whom the miserable +dupe flattered himself he had been all this while corresponding. The +memorial continues: + +“Madame de la Motte delivered to me a small note, folded in the usual +way, but without telling me either what it contained or to whom it was +addressed, or even by whom it was written. Neither she nor her husband +spoke to me on the subject. Madame de la Motte merely said, ‘I will take +you this evening into the park, and you will deliver this letter to a +great nobleman whom you will meet there.’”[96] + + + + +XIII. + +1784. JULY. + +THE MIDNIGHT INTERVIEW.—“YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS.” + + +The memorial of the Demoiselle Leguay Designy thus proceeds:— + +“Between eleven and twelve o’clock I went out with Monsieur and Madame +de la Motte. I had on a white mantle and a white lace hood. I do not +remember whether I carried a fan in my hand or not; I cannot say for +certain. The small note was in my pocket. + +“They took me into the park; there a rose was put into my hand by Madame +de la Motte, who said to me: ‘You will give this rose, along with the +letter, to the person who shall present himself to you, and say to him +these words:—You know what this means? The queen will be there to see how +your meeting passes off; she will speak to you. She is there yonder, and +will be close behind you. You shall presently speak to her yourself.’ + +“These last words made such an impression on me, that I trembled from +head to foot. I could not help telling them so: I observed to them that I +did not know I was to speak to the queen. I asked them, in a stammering +voice, what was the proper mode of form of speech.... M. de la Motte +answered me: ‘You must always say, Your majesty.’ + +“I need hardly, I think, break off here to declare that, far from having +had the honour of speaking to the queen, or her having done me the honour +to speak to me, I did not even see her at all.... + +“We were still walking along when M. de la Motte met a man, to whom he +said: ‘Ah! is that you?’... Afterwards, when I dined with the La Mottes, +I recognised in Villette, their friend, the same person who was thus +addressed by M. de la Motte.... + +“Madame de la Motte then accompanied me to a hedge of yoke elms, leaving +me there whilst she went to fetch the great nobleman to whom I was to +speak. + +“I remained waiting.... The noble unknown came up, bowing as he +approached me, whilst Madame de la Motte stood aside a few paces off, and +appeared to watch the scene. I knew not who the great nobleman was, and +although the Cardinal de Rohan now acknowledges that he was the person, I +am still ignorant upon the point. + +“It was a dull night, not a speck of moonlight; nor could I distinguish +anything but those persons and objects which were familiar to me. It +would be quite impossible for me to describe the state I was in. I was so +agitated, so excited, so disconcerted, and so tremulous, that I cannot +conceive how I was able to accomplish even half of what I had been +instructed to do. + +“I offered the rose to the great nobleman, and said to him, ‘You know +what this means,’ or something very similar. I cannot affirm whether he +took it or let it fall. As for the letter it remained in my pocket; I had +entirely forgotten it. + +“As soon as I had spoken, Madame de la Motte came running up to us, +saying in a low hurried voice: ‘Quick, quick, come away!’ + +“I left the stranger, and after proceeding a few steps found myself with +M. de la Motte, whilst his wife and the unknown went off together and +were lost to our view. Count de la Motte conducted me back to the hotel, +where we sat talking together until the return of his lady. + +“She came home about two in the morning, when I explained to her that I +had forgotten to give the note. I was afraid she would have scolded me +for this negligence, but instead of doing so she evinced the greatest +satisfaction, assuring me she had just left the queen, and that her +majesty was in the highest degree delighted with my performance.”[97] + +Such appears to have been the famous scene in the park of Versailles at +midnight, when the Prince de Rohan, deluded by an artful woman, was fain +to believe that he had been honoured with an interview with the Queen +of France, and might soon expect to be openly received at court. The +countess knew perfectly well that the cheat would run the risk of being +detected if the dialogue were suffered to proceed too far, she therefore +frightened away her dupes almost as soon as she had brought them together. + +The Countess de la Motte’s own account of this interview in the park of +Versailles, though at variance with that given by Mademoiselle d’Oliva, +nevertheless agrees sufficiently with it to prove that the statement +of the latter was perfectly sincere. The countess alleges that the +idea of practising this deception upon the cardinal originated with +Marie-Antoinette herself—that the choice of the actress who was to +personate her, the place appointed for the interview, the young girl’s +embarrassment before the meeting, were all known at the time to the +queen, who was present in an adjoining arbour. + +Nay, more. According to the same account, the Cardinal de Rohan was +also privy to the trick played upon himself, and connived at the deceit +in order to humour her majesty. Madame de la Motte’s narrative of the +transaction is too long to be transcribed throughout, but it concludes in +this manner:— + +“The poor girl was dressed and adorned like a shrine.... Judging from +the questions she had put to me since her arrival at Versailles, it was +easy to see that she expected some great adventure, and had made her +preparations accordingly.... Nothing could be more diverting than the +embarrassment of this creature, whose real anxiety was about the issue, +since she knew she was going to play her part before the queen. + +“The scene was the arbour at the lower end of the grass-plot. This arbour +is encompassed on its left-hand path by a hedge of hornbeam, supported +by a strong lattice-work fence. At a distance of three feet from the +inner part of the arbour is a second hedge, and the space between the two +quicksets forms a walk which leads round the enclosure without conducting +to the arbour itself. + +“At the hour appointed I gave the signal by putting into Mademoiselle +d’Oliva’s hand the rose which Marie-Antoinette had told me to deliver +to the cardinal through her means. Having placed her at her post, I +withdrew. The queen was not ten paces from me. I was distressed by +d’Oliva’s timidity, and the queen doubtless experienced the same feeling, +for in spite of all her reserve and watchfulness she could not contain +herself, but cried out: ‘Take courage. Don’t be afraid!’ D’Oliva admitted +this in her examination. The cardinal having come up, the conversation +began. + +“The cardinal, whose mind was at ease, since he was in the secret, +exerted himself to compose the poor girl, by putting none but simple +questions to her, and saying courteous things. What chiefly disconcerted +her was, that he spoke of former errors forgiven, of his gratitude, and +made fine promises for the future. Of all this she understood nothing, +answering Yes or No at random. But the cardinal took advantage of these +monosyllables to dwell upon his happiness with exaggeration, saying the +prettiest things in the world ... raising her foot at the close of this +speech, and respectfully kissing it. It was then Mademoiselle d’Oliva +gave him the rose, which he placed against his heart, protesting that +he would preserve this token all his life, and calling it the rose of +happiness. + +“Everything having been said that was to be said, I came forward +hurriedly, and announced that Madame and the Countess d’Artois were +approaching the spot. Every one vanished with lightning-like rapidity. +D’Oliva returned to the seat where my husband was expecting her, the +cardinal having rejoined the Baron de Planta, whom he had left at some +distance on the watch, came, accompanied by him, to me, and induced me to +follow him beyond the avenue, behind which he stopped to see the queen +pass. Having caught sight of her as she was stealing out from the corner +of the grass-plot and taking the walk leading to the terrace, he urged me +to follow her majesty, and try to ascertain whether she was satisfied. +Accordingly I did follow her, with light measured steps, and having +overtaken her at the entrance to the château, she made me go in along +with her, told me in substance that she had been much diverted, paid me +a few compliments on my own account, and enjoined me not to tell the +cardinal that I had seen her that evening.”[98] + +In this account there is much that is false, and but little that is +true. A counterfeit queen, and no other, was present at the interview. +The cardinal was imposed upon by the trick to which of course he was +not privy; and having left the park with the full conviction that he +had spoken to his sovereign, was committed to the tender mercies of the +countess and her confederates, who quickly proceeded to plunder him of +his money. + + + + +XIV. + +1784. JULY–NOV. + +A GOLDEN HARVEST.—HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF.—BARONESS D’OLIVA IS GIVEN THE +COLD SHOULDER. + + +The evening following that on which the cardinal was so cleverly duped, +young Beugnot happening to find himself in the neighbourhood of the Rue +Neuve-Saint-Gilles, looked in at the countess’s hôtel on the chance +of finding her at home. At this period it was no longer a spacious +_appartement_ that she rented, but the entire house; and yet, with the +view of deceiving the cardinal, on whose bounty she was now in a large +measure dependent, whenever he called upon her she used invariably to +receive him in some mean apartment on one of the upper floors.[99] “I +was told,” says Beugnot, “that the master and mistress were absent, +and that only Mademoiselle Colson was within. This made me the more +inclined to stay. Mademoiselle Colson was a relation of Madame de la +Motte’s, whom madame had qualified for and raised to the rank of _dame de +compagnie_. She was wanting neither in wit nor malice, and whenever I met +her we always made a point of laughing together at the foolishness and +extravagance of the heads of the house. They used to tell her nothing; +nevertheless she managed to find out everything. ‘I think,’ she remarked +to me on this occasion, ‘that their royal highnesses are occupied with +some grand project. They pass their time in secret counsels, to which the +first secretary (Villette) is alone admitted. His reverence the second +secretary (Father Loth) is consequently reduced to listening at the +door: he makes three journeys a day to the Rue Vieille-du-Temple (to the +Palais-Cardinal), without guessing a single word of the messages they +confide to him. The monk is inconsolable at this, since he is as curious +as an old devotee.’ + +“We passed two hours in thus slandering our neighbours and in making +guesses and prophesying. When I wished to leave, Mademoiselle Colson +pointed to the clock: it was midnight, and there was no chance of +finding a _voiture_ on the stand. Since I had remained so long, the +only thing to do now, she said, was to await the return of Madame de +la Motte, who would send me home in her carriage. I consented. Between +twelve and one o’clock we heard the sound of a vehicle entering the +court, and saw alight from it Monsieur and Madame de la Motte, Villette, +and a woman from twenty-five to thirty years of age—a blonde, very +pretty, and of a remarkably fine figure. The two women were dressed with +elegance, but simplicity; the men wore _dress-coats_, and had the air +of having just returned from a country party. They began by joking me +on my _tête-à-tête_ with Mademoiselle Colson, and spoke of the regret +we must both have felt at having been so soon disturbed. They talked +any amount of nonsense together, laughed, hummed, and seemed as if they +could not keep their legs still. The stranger shared the common mirth, +but she restrained herself within due bounds, and displayed a certain +timidity. They seated themselves at table, the merriment continued, it +increased, and finally became noisy. Mademoiselle Colson and I wore dull +and astonished looks, such as one is forced to put on in the presence +of very gay people when one is ignorant of what they are laughing +at. Meanwhile the party indulging in this excess of hilarity seemed +inconvenienced by our presence, as it prevented them from speaking openly +of the subject of their mirth. M. de la Motte consulted Villette as to +whether there would be any risk in speaking. Villette replied that ‘he +did not admit the truth of the adage that one is betrayed only by one’s +own people; in fact, anybody and everybody were ready to betray you, and +discretion——’ Here Madame de la Motte, by whose side the first secretary +was sitting at table, suddenly put her hand on his mouth, and said in an +imperative tone: ‘Hold your tongue; M. Beugnot is too upright a man for +your confidence.’ I give her own words without changing a syllable. The +compliment would have been a flattering one if the countess had not been +ordinarily in the habit of using the words ‘upright man’ and ‘fool’ as +though they were synonymous. + +“Madame de la Motte, following her usual practice whenever I was +present, turned the conversation upon Bar-sur-Aube and on my family, and +inquired when I contemplated returning thither. Every one was wishing +the supper to come to an end. I asked Madame de la Motte to lend me her +horses to take me home. She raised only a slight difficulty: it was +necessary that she should send home the stranger, and eventually decided +that the one living farthest off should set down the other on the way. +I objected to this arrangement, and asked permission of the lady to +escort her to whatever quarter she lived in, expressing my regret at +the same time that however distant this might be, it would still be too +near. This woman’s countenance had at the first glance caused me that +kind of uneasiness which one feels when one is conscious of having seen +a person before, but cannot remember when or where. I addressed several +questions to her on our way, but was unable to draw anything out of her; +either Madame de la Motte, who had spoken to her in private before her +departure, had recommended her to be discreet with me, or, what seemed +more probable, she had naturally more inclination for holding her tongue +than for talking. I set down my silent companion in the Rue de Cléry. +The uneasiness which I felt in her presence was, I afterwards called to +mind, due to her striking resemblance to the queen. The lady proved to +be no other than Mademoiselle d’Oliva, and the mirth of my companions +was occasioned by the complete success of the knavish trick which they +had played off only the night before in the park of Versailles upon the +Cardinal de Rohan.”[100] + +This meeting, at which the cardinal was so cleverly fooled, took place, +be it remembered, either at the end of July—the countess fixes it on the +28th—or at the commencement of August. His eminence the cardinal was so +much elated with his good fortune, in having thus recovered, as he hoped, +the favour of the queen, and felt so well assured that he was now in a +fair way of becoming prime minister, the great object of his ambition, +that the Countess de la Motte resolved at once to reap the first-fruits +of his fond hallucination. So great was her decision of character, +so thorough her assurance, so precise and prompt her mode of action, +that before many days had elapsed she had applied for, by means of a +billet bordered with _vignettes bleues_, penned of course by the forger +Villette—and obtained the moderate sum of 50,000 livres, in the queen’s +name, assuring her dupe that the queen required the loan for certain +charitable purposes.[101] Ere another three months had gone by, by the +aid of another forged billet purporting to have been penned by the queen, +madame succeeded in obtaining 100,000 livres more. Both these amounts she +received at the hands of the cardinal’s equerry, the Baron de Planta. +Thus the Prince de Rohan, who in the month of July had been duped by an +interview with a counterfeit queen, had been swindled, ere the year had +gone by, out of no less a sum than 150,000 livres, or £6,000 sterling. + +This is all the more extraordinary, and only proves the intensity of +the infatuation under which the old dotard must have been labouring, +for no very long time previously there had been much talk within the +purlieus of the court of a daring act of swindling, perpetrated by means +of a scandalous misuse of the queen’s name, which ought to have put him +on his guard. It seems that one Béranger, a _fermier-général_ had been +induced to advance a sum of 200,000 livres, to a certain Madame Cahouet +de Villers, a lady said to be in attendance on the queen, for the use as +he believed of her royal mistress. When first the lady applied to him, M. +Béranger observed that he should be proud to furnish the sum required, +provided her majesty would condescend to say one word to him—only one +little word. But the lady only laughed at his unreasonable demand. If +the queen, she said, chose to apply in so open a manner, of course the +contents of every strong box in the kingdom would be at her disposal. +Then where would be the merit of lending so small a sum on such security? + +Poor Béranger was ashamed of himself for having been so unreasonable, and +consented to lend the money if the queen would only show him by a look, +or even by a nod, that she desired it. This compact was agreed upon. + +A few days afterwards, therefore, when the queen with her train of +ladies had to pass along the famous Galérie des Glaces at Versailles on +some occasion of pleasure, the cautious _fermier-général_ posted himself +in a quiet corner where he could be seen, and by-and-by Marie-Antoinette +swept by full of “nods and becks and wreathed smiles,”—cunningly provoked +by some smart observations made by Madame Cahouet de Villers, and +which the delighted financier applied entirely to himself. A few hours +afterwards the two hundred thousand francs were handed to the lady in +question. The duped _fermier-général_, who, when the affair came to be +commonly known, was toasted as a gallant financier at all parties and in +all societies for a month or two afterwards, ultimately put the affair +into the hands of the police, and my lady was arrested and sent to +Sainte-Pélagie, whilst her husband was brought to ruin through having to +reimburse the _fermier-général_ the amount of which he had been defrauded. + +The above transpired in 1777. Five years later another imposture of +a somewhat similar character was brought to light, but owing to its +having been comparatively harmless in its results, it did not make +any particular noise. A female boasted that she was honoured with the +confidence of the queen, and exhibited letters—sealed with a seal +belonging to Marie-Antoinette which had been stolen off a table in +the apartment of the Duchess de Polignac—inviting her to Trianon. +She gave out that she could influence the favour of the Princess de +Lamballe, and pretended that she had been the means of disarming the +resentment of the Princess de Guéménée (the Cardinal de Rohan’s niece) +and Madame de Chimay against Madame de Roquefeuille. Here we have the +same falsehoods, the same sort of dupes, the same farce, and, what is +strangest of all, the same name; for the impostor of 1782 was also +named De la Motte!—Marie-Josephe-Françoise Waldburg-Frohberg, wife of +Stanislas-Henri-Pierre de la Motte, formerly administrator and inspector +of the royal college of La Flèche.[102] Thus does history, even in its +most insignificant byways, repeat itself. + +For some time after the incident of the midnight interview, Mademoiselle +Leguay Designy was a constant visitor at the De la Mottes’ both at Paris +and Versailles, and subsequently at their country house at Charonne; +for immediately the countess had gathered the first-fruits of her +successful fraud a _petite maison de campagne_ was added to their other +establishments. The demoiselle of the Palais Royal was presented to +the somewhat mixed company she met on these occasions under the title +of the Baroness d’Oliva, which the countess had herself conferred upon +her, deriving, it is supposed, “Oliva” from “Olisva,” an anagram of +“Valois.” We learn from her that at the De la Motte table, which was +served, by-the-way, by footmen in elegant liveries, there were to be seen +officers of rank, such as the Baron de Villeroy, chevaliers of St.-Louis +and of Malta, retired notaries and their wives, a relative of madame’s, +one Valois, a bootmaker, Rétaux de Villette, the countess’s secretary, +and Father Loth, her _homme d’affaires_,—altogether a tolerably +free-and-easy sort of society, we have no manner of doubt. + +On one occasion the Baroness d’Oliva accompanied the Countess de la +Motte, the Baron de Villeroy, and Rétaux de Villette to the Théâtre +Français to see Beaumarchais’ comedy, “The Marriage of Figaro,” then +running its hundred nights; but as time wore on, the countess became less +pressing in her invitations, and the intercourse between the two ladies +grew gradually less intimate, until some time in the ensuing November, +when the Countess de la Motte and the Baroness d’Oliva were no longer on +visiting terms. With regard to the 15,000 livres which the counterfeit +queen was to have received for her single night’s performance, and on the +strength of which brilliant engagement she had contracted debts which +were a source of great future embarrassment to her, this is what she says +to the countess in her “Mémoire:”— + +“Some days after your return from Versailles, you and your husband came +at midnight in a _voiture de place_ to the Rue de Jour, and gave me four +hundred livres on account. + +“On another day you came to me in the evening in your carriage, having +only your footman with you, and gave me seven golden louis. + +“Another day you drove up to my door in your carriage and sent your +footman to inquire for me. I came down and saw Father Loth and the Baron +de Villeroy with you in the carriage. I asked you for four hundred +livres, which I wanted to pay to Gentil, my upholsterer. Some days +afterwards, Father Loth called for me, and we went together to Gentil and +paid him the money. + +“On another occasion your friend Villette brought me three hundred livres +from you. + +“Another day I sent my servant to you, according to previous arrangement, +when you paid her three thousand francs in notes of one thousand francs +each.”[103] + +Thus it will be seen that she was only paid 4,268 of the 15,000 livres +promised to her, and that by bit-by-bit instalments. Schemers and +sharpers, if they had gold mines at their disposal, would never pay in +any other way. + + + + +XV. + +1784. NOV. + +GRAND DOINGS AT BAR-SUR-AUBE. + + +The sudden possession of a large sum of money produced in the countess +an invincible desire to return for a time to Bar-sur-Aube, where a few +years previously she had suffered so much poverty, but where she could +now display a little pomp. Late in the autumn of 1784, young Beugnot +received a very amiable letter from Madame de la Motte, in which she +announced to him that having several days to spare, she was about to +spend them at Bar-sur-Aube with her friends. “She informed me, in an +easy off-hand manner,” observes the count, “that she had sent in advance +her carriage and saddle-horses, which would be five days on the road, +as she had been recommended not to fatigue them, and that she herself +would arrive two days afterwards. She apprised her sister-in-law, Madame +de la Tour, of her coming in much the same terms, and gave her certain +particular directions as to the lodging of herself and suite. Madame de +la Tour came to me quite bewildered, and asked me what it all meant, +to which I replied that I was as much in the dark as she was. Having +compared letters, we agreed that there was a mystification of the worst +kind about the affair, but resolved that we would not be duped, and that +no preparations should be made for lodging the princess and her suite, +and moreover that we would both preserve strict silence with reference to +the letters we had received. + +“How great was our joint astonishment when on the appointed day we beheld +a large heavily-laden waggon, drawn by a fine team, and followed by two +led horses of great value, drive into the town. A steward who arrived +with the waggon instantly gave orders for more provisions than would +have sufficed to victual the best house in the town for a period of six +months. People stared at each other when they met in the streets, and +wondered what this new chapter in the ‘Arabian Nights’ could possibly +mean, and were still wondering when the Count and Countess de la Motte, +preceded by two outriders in handsome liveries, drove leisurely through +the main street of Bar-sur-Aube in a very elegant _berline_.”[104] Two +years before they had left the place with borrowed money and no other +clothes but those they had on; now they returned in their own carriage, +with their couriers and saddle-horses, and actually required a waggon to +convey their wardrobe! + +The town of Bar-sur-Aube, on the banks of the river, the name of which +it bears, is built partly on the slope of a mountain and partly in a +valley, and has on its mountain side the remains of some extensive Roman +fortifications said to have been constructed by Cæsar during his invasion +of Gaul. In by-gone times the town was encompassed by a massive stone +wall, and had its moats, ramparts, and four ancient gateways, with a +garrison of arquebusiers and militiamen. Its fortifications, however, +have been long since demolished, and pleasant gardens now occupy their +site. At the present day Bar-sur-Aube boasts several ancient churches and +chapels containing handsome carved altar-pieces, and many curious antique +monuments, and has also its convents, hospitals, college, and theatre. + +The one object of historical interest that commonly attracts the +attention of strangers is the little Gothic chapel in the centre of the +old stone bridge of seven arches which spans the river Aube, built to +mark the spot where, upwards of four centuries since, Charles VII. caused +the Bastard de Bourbon, chief of the gang of _écorcheurs_ (flayers)—so +called because they stripped the unfortunate wretches that chanced to +fall into their hands of every particle of clothing, and who had for a +long time ravaged the Champagne—to be sewn up in a sack and drowned in +the river beneath. In the old parts of the town the houses are chiefly +of wood, and some of the more picturesque among them have large figures +of saints forming their supports. Most of those erected during the +last eighty or ninety years, however, are built entirely of stone. The +outskirts of Bar-sur-Aube are planted with trees, and laid out in public +walks, gardens, and orchards; beyond which a chain of low hills, covered +with vines or dense plantations of foliage, gives a picturesque aspect to +the surrounding country. Owing to the favourable situation of the town +and the productive nature of the adjacent districts, Bar-sur-Aube does an +extensive trade in various kinds of grain, horses, cattle, wine, brandy, +fruit, wool, leather, linen, iron, glass, pottery, and stone and timber +for building purposes. + +Bar-sur-Aube has something of a history of its own, for it has been the +scene of several stirring historical events. It was occupied by the +Romans during their invasion of Gaul, was ravaged by Attila, and was +pillaged by our own Edward III. in 1360. About four centuries later +the inhabitants of Bar-sur-Aube welcomed with great display Louis the +Well-Beloved when he passed through the town on his return from the +siege of Fribourg. In January, 1814, the Allies, then marching upon +Paris, appeared before Bar-sur-Aube, and after a series of hard-fought +engagements forced Marshal Mortier, who held the town, to beat a rapid +retreat under cover of the night. While in the occupation of the Allies, +a conference of the ministers of the different powers was held at +Bar-sur-Aube, when Lord Castlereagh resolutely refused all subsidies to +the vacillating Bernadotte unless he agreed to support Marshal Blucher +with two _corps d’armée_, and so enable the Allies to continue their +march upon Paris. At this period there were three crowned heads, the +Emperors of Russia and Austria, and the King of Prussia, installed in +comparatively humble lodgings in this second-rate provincial town. After +the battle of Montmirail, on the 11th of February, the Allies, who were +retreating, turned and made a stand, and compelled the French army to +retire across the river Aube. On this occasion the town was twice taken +and retaken after several severe engagements. In the year following, +about three weeks after the battle of Waterloo, the Allies, to the number +of 200,000 strong, again appeared before Bar-sur-Aube. This time there +was no enemy to face them, so they quietly took possession of the place, +and levied heavy contributions on the inhabitants, leaving a garrison of +a couple of thousand men behind them, when they pursued their unopposed +march upon Paris.[105] + +The De la Mottes spend several weeks at Bar-sur-Aube, give grand dinner +and supper parties to those who consent to visit them, discharge all +their debts with the cardinal’s money, and assume all the airs of genuine +nobility. Most of the inhabitants eat their meat and drink their wine +without instituting any curious inquiries as to the source of their +strange prosperity; but there was one whose piercing intelligence +penetrated every outward vanity, whose keen eye discerned the truth +then more distinctly than others have done since, after the exposure of +a long trial by the Court of Parliament, and the still more searching +investigations of fifty historians. This sagacious man was M. de la +Tour, who had married the count’s sister. When he dined at the De la +Motte table, the countess herself, to whom all others submitted, quailed +beneath his cutting sarcasms. + +“I chanced to be alone with M. de la Tour,” says Beugnot, “on the day +of Madame de la Motte’s arrival. ‘Am I not a thousand times right,’ +said he to me, ‘when I assert that Paris contains the worst persons in +the world? In what other place, I ask you, would this little vixen and +her big lanky husband have been able to obtain by swindling the things +which they are displaying before our astonished eyes? Your good father +excepted’—Beugnot’s father, it will be remembered, had lent the De la +Mottes a thousand livres a few years previously—‘whom would they have +found here willing to lend them a crown? and yet in half an hour they +have unpacked more silver plate than there is in the whole town besides, +not even excepting the chalices and ornaments of the altar.’... ‘Do you +not know,’ remarked I, ‘that Madame de la Motte is protected by the +queen?’ ‘I’ll say nothing as to the queen’s protection,’ replied La +Tour. ‘Between you and me, the wife of our lord the king is not the most +prudent person in the world; still she is not such a fool as to have +anything to do with people of their stamp, I warrant.’” + +The evening after the De la Mottes’ arrival they gave a supper to a few +intimate friends, which, according to Beugnot, would have been considered +magnificent for any kind of guests even in Paris. “Although the town of +Bar-sur-Aube,” observes he, “is one of the most ancient cities of the +Gauls, never perhaps had such luxury been seen in it before, not even +when Cæsar did it the honour of stopping there to hang—as they say—the +mayor and councillors of that epoch. Faithful to an understanding we had +previously come to, La Tour and I ate with good appetites, and without +taking particular notice of anything, as though, in fact, we were both +accustomed to such festivities. We kept the conversation in our own +hands, taking care to confine it to subjects which rendered it difficult +for the most expert talker to interpose a remark in praise of any of the +things spread before us. M. de la Motte did not like this; he wished +to make us admire the dinner-service, which was of a new pattern, and +of very fine workmanship. La Tour contended that services of this kind +had been known for a very long time, but had gone out on account of +their clumsiness. The _nil admirari_ was persevered in with respect to +everything, and to the very end. + +“At last Madame de la Motte thought she had found grace in our eyes in +praising a fowl, one of the finest which had just been removed from the +table, informing us at the same time that she had ordered the courier +to bring her a supply of this kind of poultry so long as she remained +at Bar-sur-Aube, because to her taste ordinary country fowls were not +eatable. ‘I ask your pardon, madam,’ interposed La Tour, in a serious +tone, ‘but I am by no means of your opinion. I consider a country capon +such as you have been speaking of, when properly fattened, to be vastly +superior to all your Normandy and Mans cocks and pullets, the flesh of +which is soft, insipid, and dripping with fat. But after the capon has +been fed on a good plan, it must be roasted in a proper manner, and for +this purpose I care little about the jack. I very much prefer to have the +spit turned by a boy of the family, or even by a dog.’ + +“Madame de la Motte lost patience at the sort of honour paid to her by +her husband’s relation before four tall footmen who had been brought +from Paris clothed in liveries covered with gold lace. ‘Sir,’ said she +to La Tour, in a spiteful manner, ‘I feel edified at your preference; it +is the result of a country taste which we know you carry to its fullest +extent.’ ‘I agree with you there, madam,’ replied La Tour; ‘country taste +or family taste are much the same, and you know, madam, I value one just +as much as I do the other.’ + +“This conversation shortened supper. ‘How do you think I have paid my +score?’ inquired La Tour of me in a low tone of voice. ‘You have been +almost too liberal,’ replied I. ‘Not at all; only I was resolved to put +down both husband and wife should they have the impertinence to ask me +to admire anything. The masquerade which has commenced this evening is +a sort of triumph for these people, and I reserve for myself the part +of the soldier who on the way tells wholesome truths to the hero of the +festival!’”[106] + +Madame de la Motte called Beugnot into her room, and began complaining +to him of the insolence of her husband’s brother-in-law. “She told +me,” says Beugnot, “that her fortune had changed, that she was now in +a good position, both as regarded herself and those belonging to her, +and that we were all interested in adopting a different manner towards +her. She hinted something of the very high connection she was keeping +up at Versailles, and ended by remarking that she did not think she +could remain with us the fortnight she had promised herself. I proffered +her a first example of the new style of behaviour which she desired +by not asking her a single question. I merely undertook to beg her +brother-in-law to be more prudent for the future, without, however, +anticipating much success from my intervention.” + +The third day of the countess’s sojourn at Bar-sur-Aube was occupied by +her in paying visits to people in the neighbourhood. She dressed herself +out with all the taste which can result from an excess of magnificence, +her robes being of the finest Lyons embroidery, and she herself sparkling +with diamonds. She had, moreover, a complete set of topazes, which she +also took care to display. “She made herself,” says Beugnot, “almost +ridiculously engaging and familiar with the neighbouring nobility and +gentry. Great and small were alike enchanted with her. They returned her +visits, but when she wished to go further, and give some little fêtes, +the respectable women of the place excused themselves under various +pretexts, and Madame de la Motte found herself reduced to the young men +and the women of her husband’s family, so thorough was the respect for +manners at this time in a little provincial town. ‘Madame de la Motte,’ +said these good ladies to me, ‘is a charming woman, and we like her very +much; but why do you wish us to give our girls ideas of which they have +no need, and which will perhaps awaken in them desires they can never +gratify?’ + +“I was wanting,” resumes Beugnot, “neither in respect nor discretion +towards Madame de la Motte. She seemed to have completely forgotten our +old relations, and on this point I was in unison with her. I had become +to her simply a well-bred man with whom she could speak on any subject. +She told me of the secret vexations she endured through the deplorable +position of her husband’s family. I consoled her as well as I could, +always observing to her that a residence in a little town was in her case +quite a mistake—that she ought to have an hôtel at Paris and a château +in the country. She replied that she did not wish to buy land, because +she was about to obtain the estates belonging to her family, on which +she proposed to build. The hôtel in Paris she allowed to pass without +notice, but she admitted that she wished to possess one at Bar-sur-Aube, +where she could spend the summer months until her projected château +was built. I took the liberty of opposing this idea of purchasing a +house at Bar-sur-Aube, and maintained that it would be in far better +taste to inhabit a cottage while the château was being built by its +side; but Madame de la Motte, who had already received many valuable +lessons on this subject, did not the less persist in her desire to +display her magnificence in those places which had been witnesses of her +former misery. She purchased, in spite of my remonstrances, a house at +Bar-sur-Aube, for which she paid twice as much as it was worth, and then +gave it up to architects, who considered it their duty to commit all the +stupidities which the property admitted of, and a few more.”[107] + +“As the period of the countess’s sojourn at Bar-sur-Aube drew to a close, +people grew angry with those who had held aloof from visiting her. M. +de la Tour alone underwent no change. I had begged of him to consider +the notable alteration which opulence, though sudden, had wrought in the +manners and behaviour of both the count and countess. ‘I half agree with +you,’ replied he. ‘The wife is a hussy who has gained in penetration; +but the husband has lost in every way—he left us a fool and comes back to +us a coxcomb. I persist in thinking badly of them, and even in speaking +badly of them, so long as they do not reveal to me by what honest means +they have acquired in the short space of six months what we now know +them to be possessed of. Whom will they or you persuade that the king, +the queen, the Count d’Artois, the _contrôleur-général_—in a word, I +know not what powerful persons—have thrown heaps of gold to people who +simply asked for bread? The age I know is fertile in extravagance, but +not exactly of this kind. Husband and wife have spread a little report +around that madame is in favour with the queen. I have noticed them at +this for the last fortnight, and if they had mentioned a single word of +it in my presence, I had a little story ready for them about the Countess +de Gazon[108] and the Queen of Congo with which I should have made all +the lookers-on laugh at their expense. + +“‘My dear friend,’ continued La Tour, ‘they are altogether far too +impertinent, and it is really shameful that people should be duped so +cheaply. Believe every word they say if you please, but for my part I +adhere to what I know. Now I know, through you, that madame has relations +with the Cardinal de Rohan, since she has been conveyed five or six times +to his eminence’s hôtel at your expense. Possibly she has since been +transported there on her own light foot. Of all the acquaintances of this +fine lady, the Cardinal de Rohan is the only one to whom prodigality on a +grand scale is not impossible. There are then two conclusions—either he +has supplied the money for all that we see, or else it has been stolen +from him. I ask your pardon for the second horn of my dilemma, but only +on condition that you grant me the first; and yet I confess I can only +with great difficulty understand how a little village hussy like her can +have succeeded in seducing a prince, a prelate, and a scape-grace of such +importance.’”[109] + +A few days before her departure from Bar-sur-Aube the countess placed +in the hands of young Beugnot a rouleau of fifty louis in discharge of +certain small loans which he had at various times accommodated her with. +“I explained to her,” remarks Beugnot, “that I could not say exactly +what she owed me, but that I was quite certain the amount was below +1200 livres.[110] ‘Nevertheless take it,’ replied she; ‘and if there is +anything over, give it to your mother for her poor pensioners.’” Beugnot, +on making up the account, found he had been paid twenty louis too many, +which in accordance with the countess’s instructions he handed over to +his mother. So favourable and lasting an impression did this act of +generosity make on Madame Beugnot, that she could never afterwards be +brought to believe in the truth of any of the crimes charged against this +unhappy woman. + +[Illustration: _The Diamond Necklace_ + +(_The Stones one-third their natural size_) + +_From a facsimile of the Original Drawing made for Böhmer and Bassenge, +jewellers to the French Crown._] + + + + +XVI. + +DEC. 1784–JAN. 1785. + +THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS SOLD AT LAST. + + +The countess and her husband, the steward and the four tall footmen, +the led horses and the baggage waggon, the outriders and the elegant +_berline_, returned to Paris at the close of November, 1784, when the De +la Mottes proceeded, after all their desperate struggles towards this +end, to enter at last into the coveted gaieties of the rank and fashion +of the most brilliant capital in Europe. At the outset they did not share +their good fortune with their sister, who was still passing a dull time +of it at the Abbey of Jarcy. All they seem to have done was to resign to +her the right of petitioning in the name of Valois, for on the 30th of +November in this same year we find her making one of those stereotyped +appeals for assistance, for which the family had now become notorious, +to the Abbé Bourbon, natural son of Louis XV.[111] Irritated no doubt at +her having refused to part with her pension, husband and wife determined +to leave her to herself to enjoy in retirement its extremely slender +benefits. + +Suddenly grown rich in the queen’s name, after having successfully +established a very general belief in her pretended intimacy with royalty, +the countess’s instinctive tact led her to perceive that a new style of +living was indispensable on her part to maintain the delusion, and keep +alive that credit which she intended employing as the basis of still +larger operations. The very extravagance to which she was naturally +inclined became consequently one of the chief elements in her system +of deceit. It was no longer “alms” that she contemplated asking from a +carriage, since she had made the discovery that credulity was a mine +which, properly worked, would furnish a far richer yield than charity was +ever likely to do. + +Beugnot tells us that on his return to Paris he was confirmed in his +opinion that the opulence of Madame de la Motte was due to her intimate +connection with the Cardinal de Rohan, and that he regulated his conduct +towards her accordingly. “I presented myself,” remarks he, “at her +door with discretion: I went to dine at her house only when she did me +the honour of inviting me; and I took care to put her at her ease by +affecting respect towards her. On her part she made me acquainted with +her various projects, setting them out before me with that negligence +which presupposes the certainty of success. She intended, for instance, +to withdraw her brother from the navy—an ungrateful and stupid service +in times of peace; a regiment had been promised her for him. As for +her husband, she had purchased him a step which would at once give him +captain’s rank, and she would by-and-by see if she could not get him +named second colonel. With regard to her sister, she would not hear of +her doing as she herself had done—in other words, contracting some stupid +marriage. If agreeable to her, she should be canoness at Douxières or +Poulangy, as all the places at Remiremont were bespoken for ten years +to come. ‘If,’ remarked she, ‘I had espoused a man of name, and one who +frequented the court, that would have been of some use to me. I should +then have got on much quicker; as it is, my husband is to me rather an +obstacle than a means. It is necessary that I should do something to make +my name rank before his, which is, you know, contrary to all decorum.’ + +“When I visited Madame de la Motte, she never failed to introduce me +to the company as a young magistrate, and always placed me immediately +after the titled people. The tone of the house was, at least in those +days, that of good company. I met there the Marquis de Saisseval, then +a great gambler, rich, and currying favour with the court; the Abbé +de Cabres, councillor in the Paris Parliament; Rouillé d’Orfeuil, +intendant of the Champagne; the Count d’Estaing, one of the heroes of +the American war, and subsequently in command of the National Guards +of Versailles, when the château was stormed by the mob; the Baron de +Villeroy, an officer of the king’s body-guard; the receiver-general +Dorcy; and Lecoulteux de la Noraye, who, while aspiring to the post of +director of the countess’s affairs and finances, dreamed of being one +day appointed _contrôleur-général_ of the finances of the nation, and +who considered himself altogether ‘a most important personage, though he +had only just wit enough to be nothing worse than a fool.’” La Noraye +was no favourite with Beugnot, who in after years knocked him down on +a particular occasion for playing him some shabby trick when they were +fellow-prisoners in La Force during the days of the Terror.[112] + +All the while that madame and her husband were showing off at +Bar-sur-Aube, the cardinal was moping at Saverne, fretfully pacing up +and down a favourite walk in the episcopal pleasure-grounds, which he +had named the “Promenade de la Rose,” in honour of the gracious gift of +counterfeit royalty at the midnight interview in the park of Versailles. +This walk, which led from the palace to the neighbouring woods, had gone +by the name of the “Route de Bonheur” (road of happiness), until the +cardinal, to whom happiness still seemed hovering in the future, gave +it its new designation.[113] He had been banished to Saverne in remote +Alsace by one of those billets bordered with _vignettes bleues_, penned +by the forger Villette, so that he might be out of the way while the De +la Mottes were enjoying themselves in their country retreat. + +On the countess’s return to Paris, the correspondence between the +cardinal and the phantom queen is speedily resumed. The letters that +are now interchanged are more familiar and are even tender. The amatory +prelate, we may be certain, complained that the last meeting was too +brief, implored permission to return to the capital, and begged for +another interview. Replies were doubtless sent, exhorting him to be +discreet, and promising to comply with his request at some future period. +One thing, however, is quite certain: it was at this time that madame +applied for and obtained in the queen’s name from the cardinal the +100,000 livres, of which we have already spoken, for of the 50,000 livres +received in August last every sou of course was spent. + +All this while plans are being perfected for the successful carrying +out of that grand scheme of fraud, which not only caused the greatest +commotion throughout France, but may be said to have startled the entire +civilized world by its audacity. The first incidents of the new intrigue +appear to have been congenial. Some hanger-on of the countess’s would +seem to have sought out an emissary of the crown jewellers, employed to +find a purchaser for the famed Diamond Necklace with the prospect of a +commission for himself, and whispered in his ear that the Countess de la +Motte was privately received by the queen, with whom she had both credit +and influence, but that unusual reasons existed for not speaking publicly +of this intimacy. He thought, however, that the countess, if she could +only be induced to undertake the negotiation, was a very likely person +to prevail upon the queen to buy the Necklace. This suggestion was duly +reported to Böhmer and Bassenge, after which it appears the former waited +on Madame de la Motte at her own house and exhibited the matchless jewel. +Everything else followed in due course. + +Though evidently interwoven with those strange fabrications in which the +countess delighted to indulge, her own relation of this first stage in +the great fraud has a certain air of probability about it, and furnishes +us with the ends of some of the threads in this entangled web. After +citing the name of a speculator and schemer named Laporte, who was always +hatching new projects for making money, and whom she had been the means +of introducing to the cardinal with the view of drawing him into some +of Laporte’s grand undertakings, she observes: “This Laporte was a very +active person, and constantly at my house; I had stood godmother to one +of his children. Achette, his father-in-law, was an intimate friend of +Böhmer’s. One day, when the two latter were at Versailles, Achette said +to Böhmer, ‘Are you still saddled with your Necklace?’ ‘Unfortunately I +am,’ answered Böhmer; ‘it is a heavy burden to me—I would gladly give +a thousand louis to any one who could find me a purchaser for it.’ It +is most probable that from the date of this conversation my name was +mentioned, Achette explaining to Böhmer how his son-in-law, Laporte, had +access to me, and through me to the cardinal. + +“One day Laporte having dined at my house, mentioned to me, for the first +time, the fatal Necklace, observing that he rested all his hopes on +me; that if I would only say a word to the queen, he was convinced her +majesty would make the purchase, and that the jewellers were ready to +enter into any arrangements that might be agreeable to her.” + +On this occasion, as well as on a subsequent one, the countess informs us +that she declined to interfere, and though urgently pressed, would not +listen to the suggestion. A third attempt to induce her to undertake the +negotiation was afterwards made, she tells us, when Böhmer came to her +house with Achette, bringing the Necklace along with him. + +“‘Is it not a pity,’ said Achette to me, ‘that so magnificent a jewel +should leave the kingdom whilst we have a queen whom it would so well +become, and whom, I am sure, must at heart long to possess it?’ + +“‘I don’t know that,’ answered I; ‘nor can I understand why you have +applied to me to transmit your proposals to her majesty. I protest to you +I have no opportunity of submitting them to her, not having the honour of +approaching her.’ + +“‘Madame,’ replied Achette, with a look full of meaning, ‘we are not +come hither to pry into your secrets, still less to evince any doubt +respecting what you do us the honour to tell us; but believe me I am well +acquainted with Versailles; I know what is going on there; and when I +took the liberty of introducing my friend to you, it was because I felt +convinced that if you would honour him with your support, nobody at court +is better able to render him the service we make bold to solicit.’ + +“Böhmer’s mouth was open: I saw he was going to speak to me of his +gratitude; so, to get rid of them both, I told them I would see if, by +means of my connections, I could contrive indirectly to render them some +service.”[114] + +These visits took place at the end of December. In January, 1785, the +countess contrives to insinuate to the crown jewellers, through some of +her high-class connections, that the queen really does desire to have the +Necklace. She openly states as much to the cardinal, whom, in the very +depth of a bitterly-cold winter, she has summoned to Paris by the aid of +a courier armed with one of those well-known and highly-prized billets, +gilt-edged, or bordered with _vignettes bleues_, in which the queen is +made to say: “The wished-for moment has not yet arrived, but I desire to +hasten your return on account of a secret negotiation which interests me +personally, and which I am unwilling to confide to any one but yourself. +The Countess de la Motte will explain the meaning of this enigma.” + +After reading this letter the cardinal longed for wings; still he was +obliged to content himself with such fleet coursers as the _maîtres de +poste_ along the line of road to the capital could provide him with. +So, well wrapped up in furs, and snugly ensconced in the corner of a +comfortable close travelling carriage, he is soon rolling rapidly over +the two hundred and eighty miles of frost-bound road that intervene +between the episcopal palace of Saverne and the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles; +and, no sooner has he learned the solution of the enigma, and procured +from the countess the address of the crown jewellers—at the sign of the +“Grand Balcony,” Rue Vendôme—than, puffed up with the importance of the +commission intrusted to him, he hies to Böhmer and Bassenge to open +negotiations with them for the purchase of the costly gem. The cardinal +had not far to go, for the Rue Vendôme (now the Rue Béranger) was only +some ten minutes’ walk from his hôtel, being situated but a single +street from the junction of the Rue Vieille-du-Temple with the Rue St. +Louis (now the Rue Turenne). At the present day many of the houses have +been rebuilt, and of those which were in existence at the time of our +narrative[115] only a couple in any way answer to the sign “_Au Grand +Balcon_,” adopted by the crown jewellers. These are Nos. 11 and 22; +the former—for the time being the Mairie of the 3rd Arrondissement—is +a handsome building with an ornamental ironwork balcony in front, and +having before it an open court, which one has no difficulty in picturing +filled with the grand equipages and liveried lacqueys of the customers of +our friends Böhmer and Bassenge. + +In the excitement of conversation the grand almoner indiscreetly blurted +out what he believed to be the fact, although he had been strictly +enjoined to keep it secret, namely, that the queen was the actual +purchaser of the jewel, but her name was on no account to transpire +in the business. The price eventually agreed upon for the Necklace was +1,600,000 livres (£64,000), to be paid in four instalments of equal +amount at intervals of six months: the first instalment of 400,000 livres +to fall due in August. But the crown jewellers, who had been advised to +be cautious in dealing with the cardinal, required that the contract +should be authorized by the royal signature. To account for this demand, +they explained to the cardinal that they had heavy debts and liabilities +which prevented them from parting with an asset of so much value without +replacing it with adequate vouchers to satisfy their creditors—notably M. +Baudard de Saint-James, treasurer-general of the navy, to whom they were +indebted in no less a sum than 800,000 livres,[116] and who had waited so +long and so patiently. + +Strange to say, the person who had cautioned the jewellers to act so +guardedly was the great _intrigante_ herself. Accompanied by her husband +she had called upon Böhmer and Bassenge at seven o’clock on a raw January +morning, a couple of hours or so before the cardinal, to announce his +coming, when, after having reminded them that she had been no party to +the transaction, she proceeded to recommend them not to come to terms +without binding down the cardinal in such a manner as to make themselves +secure.[117] That she took this step, so likely to frustrate her own +object, was afterwards proved at the trial. Most persons would have +thought that the probability of such a proceeding being fatal to her +plans would have prevented her, if she meditated a fraud, acting in the +way she did; but does not the reader perceive that this most subtle of +impostors had thereby secured, by anticipation, a strong plea in her +favour to disprove her guilt? + +The obtaining the queen’s signature to the contract necessarily gave +rise to some delay. The cardinal sent the deed as he believed to +Marie-Antoinette through Madame de la Motte, with the intimation that +it was only a form, and would be merely shown to the jewellers, and +not delivered up to them. The countess, however, returns with the deed +unsigned. Royalty is in dudgeon at its sacred name having been made use +of. The grand almoner was greatly distressed at this new obstacle, which +he thought her majesty was inclined to aggravate; but what was to be done? + +Madame de la Motte returns a second time from Versailles, and pretends to +have had a second audience with Marie-Antoinette. The queen, she says, +was very angry with the cardinal for having introduced her name into the +transaction, but had insinuated: + +“If inspiring confidence is all that is requisite, could not the cardinal +have devised some other mode? The cardinal is perhaps not aware of it, +but I may tell you that I have bound myself by a formal engagement with +the king not to sign any deed without his knowledge. So the thing you see +is impossible. Contrive between you what you can do, or else renounce +the purchase altogether.... It seems to me that, as this document is +only a formality, and as these people do not know my handwriting.... But +you will reflect upon it; still, once for all, I cannot sign it. At all +events, tell the cardinal that the first time I shall see him I will +communicate to him the arrangements I intend to make with him.”[118] + +The countess then explains that, returning home after this interview, and +not reflecting on the serious consequences of using the queen’s name in +the manner suggested, she resolves to counterfeit the royal signature, +and for that purpose applies to Rétaux de Villette, the forger of the +letters which to the last the countess always maintained to be genuine. + +“I explained to M. de Villette,” she says, “the new aspect which +this affair had assumed, the cardinal’s perplexity, the queen’s +dissatisfaction, the interview I had had with her majesty, and the +meaning I attached to her expression that the jewellers were unacquainted +with her handwriting. + +“Villette said, if I was certain that the queen had made use of the +express words I had just repeated, it would appear to him, as it had +appeared to me, that she wished me to understand it did not much signify +whose hand inscribed the attestation, since the jewellers did not know +her handwriting. ‘But,’ added he, ‘neither the queen nor yourself +suspect the risk a person runs by counterfeiting writings. That is an +act which the law has included in the list of crimes under the name of +forgery. We can however do this. Taking for granted the statement of the +queen, that these people do not know her handwriting, it may be fairly +supposed that they are equally ignorant of her form of signature. To sign +_Marie-Antoinette_ alone, according to your idea, would be a positive +forgery; but the metamorphosis of an Austrian princess into a French +one—to say, for instance, _Marie-Antoinette de France_—would really be +unmeaning. If our object was to obtain this Necklace by a swindle, when +the imposture came to be exposed such a signature would serve as a proof +of it; but as we have no reasonable doubt but that the jewellers will be +paid, since they will have the cardinal’s guarantee privately supported +by that of the queen, I think we may, without much fear of committing +ourselves, submit to the necessity; I will therefore do what I now +explain to you. + +“‘First, I shall not disguise my own writing; and, secondly, I will +give the queen the incorrect title of _Marie-Antoinette de France_. The +contract being exhibited by the cardinal to Böhmer and Bassenge, they +will not examine it too minutely, I’ll be bound; and you must promise +me to burn it in my presence when the jewellers have been paid and the +matter is at end.’ + +“I gave him my word of honour that I would do this, and he signed the +deed according to our covenant. I left him directly afterwards and drove +at once to the cardinal. At first I intended to give him the contract +approved and signed, without telling him how I had settled matters; but I +reflected that Villette and I were not the safest judges; that the affair +might be more serious than we imagined, and that if such were the case +the cardinal might be placed in an embarrassing position. So I resolved +to tell him all.” + +Thereupon, according to Madame de la Motte’s version, the cardinal was +informed of the forgery, and of the _incorrectness_ of the signature, +after he had seen the contract without detecting either. He acquiesced, +we are told by the countess, in the fraud, merely observing that “since +he had been deceived by it, it would be the same with the jewellers.”[119] + +Such is the specious explanation given by Madame de la Motte of the +forgery of the queen’s signature to the contract. But amidst this farrago +of falsehood—for there can be no doubt the queen’s signature was appended +in the absurd form described, owing to the ignorance of this pair of +sharpers[120] the simple truth remains that the deluded cardinal, hoping +thereby to please the queen, had bought the Necklace of the jewellers on +his own guarantee for one million six hundred thousand francs, backed +with this fraudulent signature of Marie-Antoinette’s. The contract had +been drawn up with great care by the cardinal himself, and was written +with his own hand, since the matter was of course of too secret a nature +to be intrusted to a professional engrosser; and, after having been +exhibited to Böhmer and Bassenge for their private satisfaction, it was +left in the cardinal’s keeping. The unfortunate dupe of course believed +he still held possession of the royal guarantee, the grotesque inventions +to the contrary of Madame de la Motte, which we have just laid before +the reader, being of no further moment than to expose her own duplicity. +The confidence and mental satisfaction of the jewellers when they read +the contract, ratified by majesty itself, was equal to that felt by the +cardinal. “They read it,” says the Rohan memorial, “and appeared full +of joy; they then returned it, but the cardinal requested them to take +a copy of it, which they had not thought of doing. This copy they made +themselves without the slightest doubt being raised in their minds by the +strangeness of the signature.” + +We may instance as another proof of the countess’s prompt mode of action, +that by the end of January, 1785, the whole affair was settled—in fact +within six weeks after she had promised “to see if she could not contrive +indirectly to render the jewellers some service;” the famous Diamond +Necklace which had been to them a source of grave anxiety for years was +off their hands. + + + + +XVII. + +1781–1785. + +CHARLATAN COUNT CAGLIOSTRO. + + +When, in the autumn of the year 1781, the De la Mottes were chasing the +Marchioness de Boulainvilliers, who they had heard was at Strasbourg, +the notorious Cagliostro was astonishing the good people of that famous +town as much by his singular conduct as by the extraordinary cures he +was represented to have performed. “Curious to behold so remarkable +a personage, the cardinal,” who was then at his episcopal palace of +Saverne, “went over to Strasbourg, but found it necessary to use interest +to get admitted into the presence of the illustrious charlatan. ‘If +monseigneur the cardinal is sick,’ said he, ‘let him come to me and I +will cure him. If he is well, he has no business with me nor I with him.’ +This reply, far from offending the cardinal’s vanity, only increased the +desire he had to become acquainted with this new Esculapius. Having at +length gained admission to his sanctuary, the cardinal fancied he saw +impressed on the countenance of this mysterious and taciturn individual, +a dignity so imposing that he felt himself penetrated with an almost +religious awe, and the very first words he uttered were inspired by +reverence. The interview, which was but brief, excited more strongly +than ever in the mind of the cardinal the desire of a more intimate +acquaintance. This gradually came about, the crafty empiric timing his +conduct and his advances so skilfully, that without seeming to desire +it he gained the grand almoner’s entire confidence, and obtained the +greatest ascendency over him.”[121] + +During the next two years or so, Cagliostro seems to have made the +episcopal palace at Saverne his home whenever he felt so inclined. When +the cardinal happened to be there, the count amused him by performing +experiments in the laboratory which had been fitted up in a private part +of the palace for his especial use—making, so the cardinal maintained, +not only gold, but diamonds, under his very eyes.[122] But when the +cardinal was away the crucibles were no longer in request, and the count +would indulge in carousals, prolonged far into the night, with the Baron +de Planta, the cardinal’s equerry and confidant, and a black sheep of the +choicest breed, carousals at which his eminence’s matchless Tokay flowed +like water.[123] + +In the memorial published in his behalf at the time of the Necklace +trial, Cagliostro gives a most romantic account of himself. He is +ignorant, he says, of the place of his birth, but was brought up while a +child in the city of Medina, where he went by the name of Acharat, and +lived attended by servants in a style of great splendour in apartments +in the palace of the Mufti Salahayn, the chief of the Mussulmans. From +Medina, he pretends, he was taken when quite a youth to Mecca, where +he remained for three years petted by the scherif. He is next taken +to Egypt, visits the chief cities of Africa and Asia, and eventually +sails from Rhodes for Malta, where apartments are provided for him in +the palace of the grand master. Here, he says, he assumed the name of +Cagliostro and the title of count. From Malta he proceeds to Sicily +and Naples, thence to Rome, where he makes the acquaintance of several +cardinals, and is admitted to frequent audiences of the Pope. He +professes to have next visited Spain, Portugal, Holland, Russia, and +Poland, and gives a list of the nobles of these countries with whom +he had become acquainted. At length, in September, 1780, he goes to +Strasbourg, where his fame as a physician had already preceded him. +Here, he asserts, with perfect truth, he cured the poor generally, +and particularly sick soldiers and prisoners, without fee or reward. +Strasbourg was soon crowded with strangers, who came either to see him or +to consult him. It is now that he makes the acquaintance of the Cardinal +de Rohan, whom he accompanies to Paris to prescribe for the Prince de +Soubise, suffering at the time from an accident to his leg. After a short +sojourn in the capital he returns to Strasbourg, when being persecuted by +a party in the town, it is quite certain that letters are written to the +authorities in his behalf by the Count de Vergennes, minister for foreign +affairs, the Marquis de Miroménil, keeper of the seals, and the Marquis +de Ségur, minister of war, who desire that every protection shall be +afforded him. + +Cagliostro’s story about his residence in Medina and Mecca, and Egypt, +Rhodes and Malta, was a tissue of impudent lies. The truth is, his real +name was Joseph Balsamo, and he was the son of a small tradesman of +Palermo, in which city he was born in 1743. The family were of Jewish +origin, and he derived the name of Cagliostro from a great uncle. In his +early youth he belonged to the religious order of Charitable Brethren, +and as he grew older became remarkable for his intelligence, cleverness, +and cunning. Later on, he appears to have studied medicine with advantage. + +Growing tired of the obscurity of his lot, he forged the title-deed to +some considerable estate, and on the fraud being discovered precipitately +embarked for Catalonia where he married a young and pretty girl. With her +he proceeded to Rome, and having conferred on himself the title of Prince +Pellegrini, with that audacity which never deserted him, he returned +to Palermo under this assumed appellation. There a genuine prince +became infatuated with Donna Lorenza and took her husband under his +powerful protection. The false Pellegrini, however, was soon recognised +as the escaped forger and arrested. But on the day appointed for his +examination, his friend the prince forced the doors of the tribunal, +assaulted the counsel for the prosecution, and overwhelmed the president +with reproaches. The consequence was that the terrified court set the +prisoner at liberty, and Cagliostro, leaving his wife in the care of +the prince, again started on his travels,[124] in the course of which +he visited many of the chief cities of the Continent. He was picked +up, it is commonly asserted, while still a young man—being little over +thirty years of age—by the sect of Illuminati, who thought, and correctly +thought, that they had discovered in him a willing and able instrument +for the dissemination of their doctrines. His initiation into the +mysteries of Illuminism took place in a cave some little distance from +Frankfort-on-the-Main, when he learnt for the first time that the object +of the society of which he was now a member, was to overturn the thrones +of Europe, and that the first blow was to be struck in France; that after +the fall of the French monarchy it was proposed to attack Rome; that the +society had extensive resources, and was in the possession of enormous +funds, dispersed among the banks of Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Basle, Lyons, +London, Venice, and Genoa, the proceeds of the annual subscriptions of +its members. A considerable sum of money, which he afterwards pretended +he had acquired by the practice of alchemy, was at once placed at his +disposal, to enable him to propagate the doctrines of the sect in France. +This was the origin of his first visit to Strasbourg in the autumn of the +year 1780, when he adopted for his device the letters L. P. D. signifying +_Lilia pedibus destrue_—Trample the lilies under foot.[125] + +Cagliostro was one of those individuals who, for reasons of their own, +envelop themselves in a maze of mystery, and are rarely seen through +during their lives, because they address themselves to men’s imaginations +alone. By exciting wonder they disarm reason. He laid claim to many gifts +and acquirements; had studied medicine, was an adept at alchemy, and knew +something of natural magic. The acts which he performed were so contrived +by his arts and wiles, that all his visitors (and they comprised +persons of the highest rank and the utmost intellectual attainments) +considered them to be marvellous, whilst the gaping multitude magnified +every feat until it went far beyond this ideal. He set no price on his +public exhibitions, and darted looks of wounded honour at those who, +he pretended, degraded him by offering him gold; whilst his hand was +constantly open to the indigent, whom he waited on in their humble homes +with advice, medicine, and money. His widespread acts of benevolence, +and the luxurious style in which he lived, proved him to be rich, and +yet none were able to discover the sources of his wealth. The houses of +the most opulent citizens were thrown open to him, and without seeking +the great, but seeming rather to avoid them, he constantly found himself +in their company. Among this class he had many proselytes, but none who +believed in him so implicitly as the Cardinal Prince de Rohan, who, +spite of the count’s “perfect quack face,” seems to have worshipped him +as a being something more than human. Indeed in one of the _salons_ of +the Palais-Cardinal there was a marble bust of Cagliostro, with a Latin +inscription on the pedestal signifying “God of the Earth.”[126] + +A friend of the grand almoner’s, the Baroness d’Oberkirche, who met +Cagliostro at Saverne at this epoch, sketches his portrait for us in +her “Memoirs,” and furnishes us with convincing proofs of the singular +influence which the count had succeeded in acquiring over his credulous +patron. “Cagliostro was anything but handsome,” she observes, “still +I have never seen a more remarkable physiognomy; above all, he had +a penetrating look which seemed almost supernatural. I know not how +to describe the expression of his eyes: it was at once fire and ice; +attracted and repelled you at the same time; made you afraid and inspired +you with an irrepressible curiosity. One might draw two different +portraits of him, both resembling him, and yet totally dissimilar. He +wore on his shirt-front, on his watch-chain, and on his fingers, diamonds +of large size, and apparently of the purest water. If they were not +paste, they were worth a king’s ransom. He pretended that he had made +them himself. All this frippery showed the charlatan miles off. + +“When Cagliostro perceived me he saluted me very respectfully. I returned +his salutation without affecting either hauteur or condescension. There +were fifteen of us at dinner; nevertheless, the cardinal occupied himself +almost exclusively with me, using a sort of refined coquetry to bring +me over to his way of thinking with regard to Cagliostro, with whom he +was perfectly infatuated. I was placed on the cardinal’s right hand, and +during dinner he tried by every means to enforce his convictions upon me. +I resisted, politely but firmly; he grew impatient, and on leaving table +volunteered me his confidence. Had I not heard him with my own ears I +could never have believed that a prince of the Roman church, a Rohan, an +intelligent and honourable man in so many respects, could have allowed +himself to be brought to the point of abjuring both his dignity and free +will at the bidding of a _chevalier d’industrie_. + +“‘In truth, baroness, you are very hard to convince,’ remarked the +cardinal; ‘what! has not all that he has told you, all that I have just +related, satisfied you? I must then avow everything. Understand, at +least, that I am about to confide to you a secret of importance.’ I was +greatly embarrassed. I did not wish to be the depositary of any of the +cardinal’s secrets, and was about to excuse myself when, divining my +intention, the prince exclaimed: ‘Do not say no! but listen to me. You +see this?’ + +“The cardinal showed me a large solitaire which he had on his little +finger, engraved with the arms of the house of Rohan; it was a ring worth +20,000 francs at least. ‘It is a fine stone, my lord,’ observed I; ‘I +have been already admiring it.’ ‘Well, it was he who made it; created it +out of nothing. I saw him myself. I was present, with eyes fixed upon the +crucible, and assisted at the operation. Is this science? What do you +think of it, baroness? They tell me that he is only luring me on, that he +cheats me; the jeweller and engraver have valued this brilliant at 25,000 +francs. You will at least admit that he is a strange sort of sharper to +make such presents as this.’ + +“I acknowledge I was stupefied. The Prince de Rohan perceived it, and +continued, certain of his victory: ‘But this is not all: he makes gold; +he has made in my presence, in the crucibles of the palace, five or six +thousand francs’ worth. I shall have more of it—I shall, in fact, have +any quantity—he will make me the richest prince in Europe. These are +not dreams, madam, these are certainties. Think, too, of his prophecies +fulfilled; of the miraculous cures he has performed. I tell you that +he is not only a most extraordinary, but a sublime man, and one whose +goodness has never been equalled; the charities he bestows, the benefits +he confers, pass all imagination.’ + +“‘Am I to understand your eminence,’ inquired I, ‘that you have given +him nothing for all this—have not made him the smallest advance, have +made him no promise, given him no written document which compromises you? +Pardon my curiosity, but since you wish to make me a confidant of these +mysteries, I——’ ‘You are right, madam,’ replied the prince, ‘but I can +assure you that he has asked nothing, has received nothing from me.’ ‘Ah! +my lord,’ I exclaimed, ‘it must be that this man reckons on obtaining +from you many dangerous sacrifices since he buys your unbounded +confidence so dearly. Were I in your place I should be extremely +cautious; one of these days he will lead you too far.’ The cardinal only +answered by an incredulous smile; but I am certain that later, at the +time of the Necklace affair, when Cagliostro and the Countess de la Motte +had cast him to the bottom of the abyss, he recalled my words.”[127] + +Singularly enough, Cagliostro arrived in Paris just at the time the +cardinal was making the final arrangements with the crown jewellers for +the purchase of the Necklace. Whether or no he was summoned thither by +the cardinal himself we are unable to say, but if the Abbé Georgel’s +statement is to be relied on, it is quite certain that the grand almoner +consulted Cagliostro respecting the business of the Necklace prior to +concluding the negotiations. The abbé says: “This Python mounted his +tripod; the Egyptian invocations were made at night in the cardinal’s +own saloon, which was illuminated by an immense number of wax tapers. +The oracle, under the inspiration of its familiar demon, pronounced that +the negotiation was worthy of the prince, that it would be crowned with +success, that it would raise the goodness of the queen to its height, and +bring to light that happy day which would unfold the rare talents of the +cardinal for the benefit of France and of the human race.”[128] + +The Countess de la Motte, who it will be remembered had formerly met +Cagliostro at Strasbourg, renewed her acquaintance with him in the +_salons_ of the Palais-Cardinal, where she was now a constant visitor. +For a time it was an affair of diamond cut diamond between them. She +flattered the arch impostor with the finest art, appeared to be his dupe, +and broke out into loud exclamations of surprise when he performed his +tricks and practised his delusions in her presence. The crafty cheat was +himself cheated. By degrees he became persuaded that she was really a +confidant of the French queen, that she had credit at court, and would +soon have power. Fully convinced of her influence, and perceiving, +as he thought, that his patron the cardinal would by her assistance +retrieve his political fortune, he encouraged that sanguine prelate, +and worked, as we have seen, upon his imagination, with a view to dispel +any lingering doubt he might chance to entertain. So infatuated did +Cagliostro become under the influence of his own delusions on the one +side, and the spell of this enchantress on the other, that the countess +would appear to have controlled the crafty necromancer even in the +performance of his own spells.[129] + +Cagliostro, after he was regularly settled in Paris, became a frequent +visitor at the countess’s house—he and madame, we are told, were like +two fingers on one hand—where he was received with an amount of respect +verging on to reverence. The De la Mottes and he were close neighbours, +for he lived at the Hôtel de Chavigny, in the Rue Saint-Claude, only +a couple of streets off. “The house which he occupied, and which was +afterwards the residence of Barras, was one of the most elegant of the +quarter.[130] In the _salon_, decorated with oriental luxury, and bathed +in a kind of semi-daylight when it was not resplendent with the blaze of +a hundred lights, the pursuits of the philosopher and conspirator might +be divined by the side of the projects of the quack. There one saw the +bust of Hippocrates, and, in a black frame, inscribed in letters of gold, +a literal translation of Pope’s Universal Prayer.”[131] Here Cagliostro +lived in state, giving balls, assemblies, and audiences at which he +insolently offered his hand to his fair disciples to kiss, while he +treated his male visitors, and at times even the cardinal himself, with +marked disdain.[132] + +Young Beugnot, who met Cagliostro at one of Madame de la Motte’s _petits +soupers_, tells us that the countess previously warned him that she +would be obliged to disarm the inquietude of Cagliostro, who, for no +reason whatever, invariably refused to sup if he thought that any one +had been invited to meet him. Moreover, she begged Beugnot to ask him +no questions, not to interrupt him when he was speaking, and to answer +with readiness any inquiries he had addressed to him. “I subscribed,” +says Beugnot, “to these conditions, and would have accepted even harder +ones to gratify my curiosity. At half-past ten the folding doors were +thrown open, and the Count de Cagliostro was announced. Madame de la +Motte precipitately quitted her arm-chair, rushed up to him and drew him +into a corner of the _salon_, where I presume she begged him to pardon my +presence. Cagliostro advanced towards me and bowed, without appearing at +all embarrassed at perceiving a stranger. He was of medium height, rather +stout, had a very short neck, and a round face ornamented with two large +eyes sunken in his head, and a broad turn-up nose; his complexion was of +an olive tinge; his _coiffure_ was new in France, his hair being divided +into several little tresses, which, uniting at the back of the head, were +tied up in the form known as the ‘club.’ He wore a French cut coat of +iron grey embroidered with gold lace, and carried his sword stuck in the +skirts, a scarlet vest trimmed with _point d’Espagne_, red breeches, and +a hat edged with a white feather. This last article of dress was still +necessary to mountebanks, dentists, and other medical _artistes_ who made +speeches and sold their drugs out of doors. Cagliostro’s costume was +relieved by lace ruffles, several costly rings, and shoe-buckles of an +old pattern but brilliant enough to pass for very fine diamonds. + +“There were at supper only the members of the family, among whom I +include Father Loth, _minime_ of the Place Royale, who reconciled, I +know not how, his sacred functions with the place of second secretary +to Madame de la Motte. He used to say mass for her on Sundays, and +charged himself during the rest of the week with commissions at the +Palais-Cardinal which the first secretary thought beneath his dignity. +Neither must I count as a stranger the Chevalier de Montbreul, a veteran +of the green rooms, and still a good conversationalist, who was prepared +to affirm almost any mortal thing, and was found, as if by chance, +wherever Cagliostro appeared, ready to bear witness to the marvels he +had performed, and to offer himself as a positive example miraculously +cured of I know not how many diseases, of which the names alone were +sufficiently startling. + +“There were then nine or ten of us at table; Madame de la Motte had +on one side of her Cagliostro and Montbreul, and I was on her other +side, facing the former, whom I made a point of examining by stealth, +and still did not know what to think of him; the face, the style of +dressing the hair, the whole of the man, impressed me in spite of myself. +I waited for him to open his mouth. He spoke I know not what jargon, +half Italian, half French, plentifully interlarded with quotations in +an unknown tongue, which passed with the unlearned for Arabic. He had +all the talking to himself, and found time to go over at least twenty +different subjects in the course of the evening, simply because he gave +to them merely that extent of development which seemed good to him. Every +moment he was inquiring if he was understood, whereupon everybody bowed +in turn to assure him that he was. When starting a subject he seemed like +one transported, raised his voice to the highest pitch and indulged in +the most extravagant gesticulations. The subjects of his discourse were +the heavens, the stars, the grand _arcanum_, Memphis, transcendental +chemistry, giants, and the extinct monsters of the animal kingdom. He +spoke, moreover, of a city in the interior of Africa ten times as large +as Paris, and where he pretended he had correspondents.” Beugnot further +mentions, that in between his rhapsodies he would chatter the most +frivolous nonsense to the Countess de la Motte, whom he designated his +dove, his gazelle, and his white swan. After supper he addressed numerous +questions to Beugnot, one following another with extraordinary rapidity. +To all the count’s catechising the young advocate invariably replied by +a respectful avowal of his ignorance, and subsequently was surprised +to learn from Madame de la Motte that Cagliostro had conceived a most +favourable opinion, not merely of his deportment, but likewise of his +knowledge.[133] + + + + +XVIII. + +1785. FEB. + +THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS DELIVERED. + + +The Cardinal de Rohan obtained possession of the Necklace early on the +morning of the 1st of February, 1785, and had not long to wait ere he was +honoured with the queen’s commands to deliver it into her royal custody. +We shall give two accounts of how this delivery was effected—namely, the +story told by the countess, and the statement made by the cardinal in his +memorial. + +The cardinal of course expected, from having rendered the queen a service +for which she could not feel otherwise than grateful, that he would +have been permitted to deliver the rich jewel to Marie-Antoinette in +person, and when he received from Madame de la Motte the following note, +purporting to be written by the queen, he imagined his expectations were +on the point of being realized:— + +“This evening (Feb. 1), at nine o’clock, you must be at the countess’s +house (at Versailles) with the casket and in the usual costume. Do not +leave until you hear from me.” + +The countess lodged, as the reader will remember, at “La Belle Image,” +in the Place Dauphine, and thither, on this sharp winter’s night—it +was a hard frost, and the ground was almost like glass—the cardinal +proceeded, wrapped up in a long great-coat, and wearing a slouched hat +that concealed his features. One can imagine the countess’s nervous +state on this eventful evening—can see her posted at the window on the +watch, peering through the frost on the panes into the dark and almost +silent Place, eager for a glimpse of the grand almoner with the coveted +treasure. At last two figures are seen crossing the broad square from the +Rue de la Pompe, at the end of which is the Hôtel de Rohan—one is the +cardinal, the other a man-servant he has brought with him, who carries +the casket, and whom he dismisses a few doors off “La Belle Image.” + +“At half-past eight o’clock,” says Madame de la Motte, “the cardinal +called upon me in his disguise, carrying under his arm the casket +containing the Necklace, which he set down on a chest of drawers. At +half-past nine Lesclos,[134] that faithful messenger of her majesty, whom +she so often employed in delicate missions—Lesclos, a man perfectly well +known to the cardinal, and the necessary confidant of all the little +irregularities mentioned in the correspondence between him and the +queen—called upon me with a letter from her majesty which ran thus:— + +“‘The minister (the king) is at present with me, and I cannot tell how +long he will stay. You know the person I send. Deliver the casket to him, +and stay where you are. I do not despair of seeing _thee_ to-day.’” + +“The cardinal,” continues the countess, “having read this note, delivered +to the faithful Lesclos, with his own hands, the casket containing the +Necklace which he had himself deposited on the chest of drawers. Lesclos +went out.”[135] + +Such is Madame de la Motte’s statement. Let us compare it with the +cardinal’s, which we extract from one of the memorials produced in his +defence at the trial:— + +“On his (the cardinal’s) arrival at Versailles he called upon Madame +de la Motte, who was living in the Place Dauphine; he took with him +Schreibert, his _valet de chambre_, who had charge of the casket. The +cardinal, when they had reached the house, took it from him and went +up-stairs by himself. He found Madame de la Motte alone, and presented to +her the rich burden he was carrying. + +“Some time after a man, who announced himself as a messenger from the +queen, entered the apartment. The cardinal withdrew cautiously into an +alcove which was half open. The man delivered a note. Madame de la Motte +sent him for a moment outside the room, then came towards the cardinal +and read to him the letter containing the order for delivering up the +casket to the bearer. The man was then called in again, the casket was +given into his hands, and he took his departure.... Who was that man? +To the cardinal he seemed to be the same that he had descried in the +park of Versailles on the night of the 11th of August, 1784, close to +Mademoiselle d’Oliva.”[136] + +We will undertake to answer the cardinal’s interrogatory. The messenger +was an accomplice of the countess’s: none other than the forger Rétaux +de Villette, made up for the occasion “with large black eyebrows, and +pale face,” and the letter of which he was the bearer was one of his +own numerous forgeries. At any rate the countess’s _femme de chambre_, +Rosalie Briffaut, deposed to having opened the door to him at the precise +hour on that particular night, when he immediately entered the countess’s +apartment. + +Success is attained at last! The great fraud is consummated! The woman +who when a child we have seen running along the streets with naked feet, +the tatters of poverty her only covering, and begging of lords and ladies +to “bestow a few sous on a descendant of Henry II. of Valois, King of +France,” has at length obtained possession of the famed Diamond Necklace, +valued at 1,600,000, livres, or £64,000, sterling! The jewellers, +delighted at having got the troublesome piece of _bijouterie_ off their +hands, invite the countess to a grand dinner, and madame being pleased +to accept the invitation, the affair came off on the 12th of February, +when doubtless both the countess and her absent friend the cardinal were +toasted in bumpers of the choicest Burgundy, and more than one fine +speech was made which, had it been accurately reported, would have read +rather curiously a few months afterwards. + +It had been arranged, it seems, between the jewellers and Laporte, +Achette, some baron—name unknown, but said to be a relative of the +cardinal’s—and a money-lending goldsmith named Grenier,[137] the same +who had purchased the De la Motte pension, and who, we expect, had got +mixed up in the Necklace affair through his connection with the countess, +that a commission of 200,000 livres was to be paid to the negotiators, +of which amount madame says it was proposed she should receive one-half +in articles of jewellery, such as diamond rings and earrings, a couple +of solitaires, a locket set with diamonds, and a watch and chain for +herself, with a couple of diamond rings and a watch and chain set with +diamonds for her husband. When Laporte sent her a written memorandum of +these conditions, and begged her acceptance of them, she declined, and +desired him to say no more on the subject, as she had done so little +towards effecting the sale of the Necklace, and as, moreover, it was not +her habit to receive presents for services rendered![138] + +When the count, who had not yet been let into the secret of his wife’s +intention with regard to the Necklace, came to hear of this refusal, he +blamed her very much, and it was arranged with Grenier that he should +inform the other negotiators of the countess’s willingness to accept +the proposed presents. It does not appear, however, that she ever +received them. The commission was probably dependent on the payment of +the purchase-money for the Necklace, and as this was never paid, the +arrangement with regard to the commission most likely fell to the ground. + +Baudard de Saint-James, treasurer-general of the navy, and principal +creditor of the crown jewellers, is equally delighted with the latter +at the Necklace being at last sold. He has now before him the pleasant +prospect of receiving twenty-four livres in the louis on his large debt, +and from a feeling of gratitude presses, through Böhmer and Bassenge, the +offer of his services upon the cardinal, to whom, he said, he should be +proud to be of use. The cardinal, who, with all his large resources, is +continually in want of money, knew, we suppose, what this meant, for he +forthwith borrowed 50,000 livres from the treasurer-general of the navy +on his simple note of hand.[139] + +This celebrated financier’s real name was Baudard; but when he had grown +rich he made an addition to it, and called himself Saint-James, after +the village from whence he came. This name he in his turn bestowed on +a celebrated château and park still existing at the end of the Avenue +de Neuilly, the same in which the Duke of Wellington and his staff took +up their quarters when the Allies entered Paris after the battle of +Waterloo. It had formerly been the residence of the famous Cardinal de +Retz, afterwards of Le Normand (uncle of Madame de Maintenon, and the +richest _fermier-général_ of his time), by whom the château was rebuilt, +and subsequently of our treasurer-general of the navy, who dissipated his +immense fortune upon it in fancies of the wildest kind. He first enlarged +the château, then redecorated and furnished it in the most magnificent +style; next extended and relaid out the park, planted miniature woods, +constructed artificial grottos and waterfalls, erected Chinese temples +and Turkish kiosques, and formed a superb winter-garden, in which he +accumulated all the rare flora of Asia and America. The feature of the +park, however, was its grand rock, the quarrying and transit of which is +said to have cost Saint-James the incredible sum of 1,600,000 livres, +or £64,000[140]—exactly the price of the Diamond Necklace—and which is +known even at the present day by the name of “Saint-James’s Folly.” What +with his reckless expenditure upon this château and park, his expensive +mistresses, his jobbing in the funds, his allowing himself to be drawn +into all manner of wild undertakings, the promoters of which, knowing +alike his stupidity and his greed, invariably had recourse to him, and +his subsequent losses by Böhmer and Bassenge and others, it is not to be +wondered at that Baudard de Saint-James came to grief at last—failed, in +fact, for a million sterling, got sent to the Bastille, and only left it +to die of poverty and grief a short time afterwards. + + + + +XIX. + +1785. FEB.–AUG. + +THE DIAMOND NECKLACE VANISHES! + + +The gigantic swindle it must be confessed had been effected in a masterly +manner. Weeks, and even months, passed by, and no one seemed to entertain +the slightest suspicion that any fraud had been perpetrated. But this +was only the calm that precedes the storm. The crown jewellers, Böhmer +and Bassenge, made it no secret that they had succeeded in disposing of +their Necklace. They, however, gave out that it had been purchased by +the Sultan of Turkey for a favourite sultana. Böhmer afterwards stated +that they did this at the request of the cardinal, who had received the +queen’s commands to that effect. Of course Madame de la Motte was the +real person who caused this report to be spread to allay impertinent +curiosity. The cardinal, flattering himself that he had placed his +sovereign under an obligation, was expecting both favour and power, and +was confiding these hopes rather incautiously to his friends. The De la +Mottes were openly living in almost Oriental luxury. Nobody would have +supposed that any great wrong had been done. + +On the 3rd of February, two days after the Necklace had been delivered to +the cardinal, he met Böhmer and Bassenge at Versailles. “Well,” said he +to them, “have you made your very humble acknowledgments to her majesty +for having purchased your Necklace?” The jewellers, careless upon this +point now the Necklace was fairly off their hands, had not done so; +the cardinal upbraided them with their neglect, a fact admitted at the +trial.[141] + +Months glide by without the slightest suspicion arising, although the +grand almoner is somewhat puzzled at the queen never wearing the Necklace +in public. Every time he meets the jewellers he repeats his inquiry +whether they have humbly thanked the queen, and renews his very earnest +recommendation for them to do so. At length, in the last week of June, +after the countess has more than once hinted to him that the queen +thinks the Necklace dear, the cardinal receives a letter written in her +majesty’s name by the forger Villette, complaining of the excessive +price of the jewel, and demanding a reduction of 200,000 livres, in +which case 700,000 instead of 400,000 livres would be paid on the 1st +of August, “otherwise,” the letter went on to say, “the article will be +returned.”[142] The crown jewellers murmur, as well they might, at this +unexpected demand, but rather than be again burthened with the Necklace, +after consulting with Saint-James, they give an unwilling consent to +the new arrangement. When all is finally settled, by the advice of the +cardinal they address to the queen the following letter, the very words +of which are dictated by the grand almoner himself: + + “Madame, + + “We are extremely happy to think that the last arrangements + which have been proposed to us, and to which we have submitted + with respectful zeal, will be received as a new instance of + our submission and devotedness to your majesty’s commands, and + we feel truly rejoiced to think that the most beautiful set of + diamonds in the world will be worn by the best and greatest of + queens. + + “BÖHMER AND BASSENGE. + + “July 12, 1785.”[143] + +When the above letter was written, some slight feelings of uneasiness +respecting the Necklace had taken possession of the minds of the two +partners; for Marie-Antoinette had appeared in public on several +occasions when such an ornament might very properly have been worn, but +without displaying it. Böhmer had sought interviews with the queen, +who had carefully avoided him, fearing to be again pestered with his +importunities, and, since his threat of committing suicide, regarding him +as partially deranged. + +The cardinal, as we have already remarked, was perplexed by the +circumstance that the queen did not wear the Necklace, and still more so +by the freezing aversion she continued to manifest whenever they met in +public. The fictitious letters too had become more rare, as well as much +briefer than heretofore, and very cold. The apprehension mutually shared +by the cardinal and the crown jewellers may be traced in the letter just +quoted, in which “the most beautiful set of diamonds in the world” is +pointedly alluded to, and something like a hint given that they ought to +be “worn by the best and greatest of queens.” + +This letter was delivered by Böhmer to Marie-Antoinette with a diamond +epaulette and buckles which the king had ordered of the crown jewellers +as presents to the Duke d’Angoulême on the day of his christening. The +queen, who had just returned from mass, went at once into her library, +where Madame Campan was present. “She held the note in her hand; she read +it to me,” says Madame Campan, “observing that as I had in the morning +guessed the enigmas in the _Mercure_, I could no doubt discover the +meaning of this, which that madman Böhmer had just handed to her. These +were her very words. The note contained a request not to forget him,[144] +and expressions of his happiness at seeing her in possession of the most +beautiful diamonds that could be found in Europe. As she finished reading +the note she twisted it up and burnt it at a taper which was standing +lighted in her library for sealing letters, and merely recommended me, +when I should see Böhmer, to request an explanation of it. ‘Has he +assorted some new ornaments?’[145] added the queen. ‘I should be very +vexed if he has done so, for I don’t intend to make use of his services +any longer.’”[146] + +In the middle of the month of July, but a very short time before the +first instalment fell due, the countess, feeling the necessity for +gaining time, called upon the Cardinal de Rohan, and told him that the +queen would be constrained to devote the 700,000 livres, which she had +put aside for the payment of the moiety of the purchase-money due on the +1st of August, to other purposes. She begged that the cardinal would see +the jewellers and obtain a postponement, which the queen thought could +not be at all difficult,[147] until the 1st of October. The cardinal +received this message with evident consternation, whereupon Madame de +la Motte, to reassure him, told him that she had seen in the queen’s +hands notes to the amount of 700,000 livres, which her majesty had +designed for the payment of the instalment in question, and a day or +two afterwards she would appear to have brought him a letter from the +queen on the subject.[148] There is no help for it—for needs must when +such a charioteer as the countess drives—so the cardinal does as he is +bid, somewhat out of temper, it is true, by this time with her majesty’s +unbusiness-like ways, which bid fair, he tells the jewellers, “to turn +his head.” Böhmer and Bassenge show such evident signs of dissatisfaction +at this new variation of the contract, that to quiet them the prince +feels constrained to tell them a fib, namely, that he had _himself_ seen +in the queen’s hands the 700,000 livres in question. This statement he +repeats to Baudard de Saint-James, whose interest in the matter we know, +and who makes it his business to be kept informed of any hitches that +arise in this troublesome Necklace affair. Prompted, no doubt, by Madame +de la Motte, the cardinal seems to have hinted to the financier that +it would be a good opportunity for him to secure the queen’s favour, +and with it the _cordon rouge_, of which Saint-James was particularly +ambitious, by lending her majesty this 700,000 livres, for the payment of +the first instalment. Saint-James was not unwilling; still he was over +cautious, and said that on hearing one word from the queen the amount +should be forthcoming.[149] Georgel says that the reason the affair fell +through was because the forger Villette was, as will afterwards appear, +away at that particular juncture at Bar-sur-Aube, and the written word +consequently was not forthcoming until it was too late,[150] owing to +which lucky accident Saint-James saved his 700,000 livres, which the +countess would certainly have spirited away in her usual fashion if the +chance had only been afforded her. + +After consulting with their most pressing creditors, Böhmer and Bassenge +gave a reluctant consent to the postponement asked for; but while the +affair is still under consideration, the countess, getting alarmed, +brings the cardinal 30,000 livres, which she tells him the queen has sent +as interest on the retarded payment. Thirty thousand francs as interest +on seven hundred thousand francs for two months, or at the rate of nearly +twenty-six per cent., and the client, too, a queen! Madame de la Motte +had evidently foreseen the famous axiom of Field Marshal the Duke of +Wellington, though in an inverted form. With her, bad security implied +high interest. + +This 30,000 livres, we are told by the Abbé Georgel, only confirmed the +most credulous of mortals in the conviction he entertained of the entire +truth of all that Madame de la Motte had asserted. He at once hastened to +the jewellers, who accepted the amount, not as interest, but on account +of the principal. A few days afterwards, namely, on the 3rd of August, +Böhmer, who occasionally visited the father-in-law of Madame Campan, went +down to his country-house at Crespy—whether or not by invitation from +Madame Campan does not appear—when Madame Campan repeated to him all that +the queen had desired her to say. Böhmer, she tells us, seemed petrified, +and asked how it was that the queen had been unable to understand the +meaning of the letter he had presented to her. + +“I read it myself,” replied Madame Campan, “and I could make nothing of +it.” + +Böhmer observed that he was not surprised at that, as there was a certain +mystery in the affair respecting which she was ignorant, but of which he +would inform her fully if she would accord him a private interview. + +“When I had got rid of the persons who required my presence in the +drawing-room,” says Madame Campan, “I went with Böhmer down one of the +garden-walks.” Here the promised explanation was given, on hearing which +Madame Campan was “so struck with horror,” “so absorbed in grief,” that +a storm of thunder and rain came on while they were talking together +without exciting her attention. During this conversation Böhmer stated +that the queen, having changed her mind respecting his “grand Necklace,” +and having determined to purchase it, had employed the Cardinal de Rohan +as her agent in the transaction. + +Madame Campan at once told the crown jeweller that he was deceived, for +the queen had never spoken to the cardinal since his return from Vienna, +and there was not an individual at court less favourably looked upon than +the grand almoner. + +“You are deceived yourself, madame,” replied Böhmer; “the queen must see +him in private, for it was to his eminence that she gave 30,000 livres +which were paid me on account; she took them in his presence[151] out of +the little _secrétaire_ of Sèvres porcelain next the fireplace in her +boudoir. This the cardinal told me himself.” + +Böhmer further stated that he had in his possession all the notes signed +by the queen, and that he had even been obliged to show these to various +bankers in order to induce them to grant him an extension of time for his +payments. + +Madame Campan, thunderstruck at what she heard, assured poor Böhmer that +he was the victim of a detestable plot; whereupon the jeweller confessed +that he began to feel alarmed, as the cardinal had declared to him that +the queen would be certain to wear the Necklace on Whit Sunday, and he, +Böhmer, was greatly astonished when he saw that she did not have it on. +On asking Madame Campan what she thought he ought to do, she advised him +to go at once to the Baron de Breteuil, and tell him candidly all that +had passed, and be ruled entirely by him. Instead of doing this Böhmer +hurried off to the cardinal. What transpired at this interview is not +known, but the following memorandum, in the grand almoner’s handwriting, +was said to have been found in a drawer at the Hôtel de Strasbourg at the +time a search was made for the cardinal’s papers: + +“On this day, 3rd August, Böhmer went to Madame Campan’s country house, +and she told him that the queen had never had the Necklace, and that he +had been cheated.” + +Böhmer must have spoken to the cardinal beforehand of his contemplated +visit to Crespy, for the cardinal admitted that, having regard to the +queen’s injunction to keep her name a perfect secret in the affair of +the Necklace, he had urged Böhmer not to speak to Madame Campan on the +subject, and in the event of any questions being asked him to say the +Necklace had been sent abroad.[152] + +The half-crazy jeweller next hastened to the Little Trianon, but failed +in obtaining an interview with Marie-Antoinette. A day or two afterwards, +the queen having sent for Madame Campan to rehearse with her the part +of _Rosina_, which she was to play in Beaumarchais’ comedy, “The Barber +of Seville,” at her private theatre at the Little Trianon, took an +opportunity of asking her why she had sent Böhmer to her (who had been to +speak to her, saying that he came at Madame Campan’s request), when she +did not wish to see him. + +“The expression,” remarks Madame Campan, “which this man’s name produced +on my features must have been very marked, for the queen observed it, and +commenced questioning me. I begged her to see him; I assured her that it +was necessary to her tranquillity; that an intrigue was being carried +on of which she was ignorant; that it was a grave one, since agreements +signed by her had been shown to people who had lent money to Böhmer. +Her surprise and annoyance were great. She made me relate several times +the whole of my conversation with him, and complained bitterly of the +vexation she felt at the circulation of forged notes signed with her +name; but she could not conceive how the cardinal could be involved in +the affair. This was a labyrinth to her, and her mind was lost in it. She +ordered me to remain at Trianon, while she sent off a courier to Paris, +under a pretext which I have now forgotten. He returned the next morning, +the very day of the representation of the comedy, which was the last +amusement the queen allowed herself in this retreat.”[153] + + + + +XX. + +1785. FEB.–JUNE. + +THE DIAMONDS ARE DISPERSED.—COUNT DE LA MOTTE GOES TO ENGLAND ON BUSINESS. + + +The De la Mottes had spirited away the Necklace it is true, but how were +they to turn it into hard cash? Every working jeweller in France knew +this famed piece of _bijouterie_ by repute almost as well as if he had +had a hand in its manufacture. The only plan, therefore, was for them, +somehow or other, to remove the diamonds from their settings, and to +dispose of them piecemeal. The first the De la Mottes contrived to do +after a fashion by means of a knife or some such instrument; the last +they found a difficult and even dangerous undertaking. + +On the 15th of February[154] the countess’s first secretary and the +forger of the queen’s signature to the contract with the jewellers, +Rétaux de Villette, who was of course as deep in the plot as the De la +Mottes themselves, was intrusted with about forty of the smaller stones +to sell to two Jew diamond-merchants named Adam and Vidal for four +hundred francs a-piece. Vidal, believing the diamonds to be stolen, gave +information to the police, and the consequence was that Villette was +arrested and subjected to an examination, in the course of which he was +constrained to give up the name of the Countess de la Motte as that of +the person who had intrusted him with the diamonds to sell. Madame being +well known of old to M. Lenoir, lieutenant-general of police, to whom +it will be remembered one of her begging letters was referred,[155] and +her reputation being of the shadiest in her particular “_quartier_” M. +Lenoir gave directions to the inspector who had arrested Villette to make +diligent search at the “_Bureau de Sureté_” for information respecting +any recent robbery of diamonds. Nothing whatever being discovered to +implicate Villette in the least degree, he was discharged, and the +diamonds were restored to him.[156] + +This was a narrow escape for Villette, who naturally enough declined +putting his liberty in jeopardy a second time. The consequence was that, +burdened though the De la Mottes now were with diamonds, they were unable +to turn them to profitable account. If attempting to dispose of a few +of the smallest stones excited all this suspicion, whatever would come +to pass, thought they, if any quantity of the larger brilliants were +publicly offered in the market? The thieves are for the moment at their +wits’ ends, and do not appear to have been particularly fertile in their +expedients, for what next suggests itself to them is to get hold of a +young fellow of dubious character calling himself Jean-Charles-Vincent +de Bette d’Étienville, whom Rétaux de Villette has met with at some +café—singularly enough the Café Valois—and under the assumed characters +of the Dame de Courville, personated by Madame de la Motte, the Sieur +Augeard, her steward, personated by Villette, and the Councillor +Marsilly, personated by the Count de la Motte, to make him their +pretended confidant in a cock-and-bull story about the lady desiring +with a view of legitimatizing a child she has had by some very great +nobleman, to get married to some gentleman of title, to whom a bonus of +one hundred thousand livres would be given on the day of the wedding. +They represented, however, that before this arrangement could be carried +into effect, it would be necessary to dispose of the lady’s diamonds, +which were valued at four hundred and thirty-two thousand livres; and +it was proposed to Bette that he should take them to Holland, and sell +them to the diamond merchants of Amsterdam—madame of course either +accompanying him, or dogging his footsteps to ensure his not giving them +the slip. Bette, although he found out a gentleman of title ready and +willing to save a lady’s reputation at the price of one hundred thousand +livres, cash down, seems to have drawn back at this latter suggestion, +which foreboded danger he fancied; and all madame’s powers of fascination +and persuasion proving of no avail, this abortive scheme had to be +abandoned.[157] + +All this was of course very disheartening. To have plotted and schemed, +and watched and waited, and after doubts and misgivings, and positive +fears and dangers, to have at length achieved success, and then for +success to prove barren, was something awful. For the moment it +seemed as though there was nothing to be done except to barter away +as many diamonds as they could, and to have others reset to wear as +personal ornaments. It was certainly no use hiding so much brilliancy +under a bushel. At the commencement of March we find the Count de la +Motte strolling into the shop of Furet, clockmaker to the king, Rue +Saint-Honoré, with whom he had had previous dealings, and buying from +him three clocks, price three thousand seven hundred and twenty livres, +and giving him a couple of diamonds, which the jeweller values at two +thousand seven hundred livres, on account. A day or two afterwards madame +herself calls with a number of diamonds, which she wishes to have mounted +encircling a watch; but Furet explains to her that the stones are too +large for this purpose, and suggests mounting them as bracelets.[158] +She also exchanges a diamond with a Jew for a couple of china pomade +pots, and pays a visit to the goldsmith Regnier—of whom she had bought a +pair of diamond bracelets and the handsome service of silver plate with +which it will be remembered she astonished her Bar-sur-Aube connections +in the preceding year, paying for the same with the cardinal’s money—and +commissions him to set a couple of large diamonds, which she brings with +her, in rings, one for herself and the other for her husband.[159] + +Transactions of this character, however, did not put them in possession +of the one thing needful—namely, ready cash. Diamonds were with them as +plentiful as blackberries, but diamonds are not meat and drink, and are +at best but an indifferent circulating medium, and the De la Mottes were +getting painfully hard up. The countess, however, proved herself as usual +equal to the occasion. + +Unknown to her husband, she sells a parcel of twenty-two diamonds +to one Paris, a jeweller—to whom she had been introduced by M. +Filleul, a lawyer of Bar-sur-Aube, and an occasional visitor at the +Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles—for the sum of fifteen thousand livres, and +subsequently disposes of sixteen more diamonds to the same person for the +sum of sixteen thousand livres.[160] This furnished her with sufficient +funds to pack the Count de la Motte over to England with a letter of +credit for a couple of thousand crowns,[161] and the bulk of the larger +diamonds belonging to the Necklace. These diamonds, which the countess +had first declared were sold at the request and on behalf of the Cardinal +de Rohan, she afterwards pretended she had received as a gift from the +queen, and it will be noticed at the outset of the following narrative +that the count takes up this cue, although he stated to the English +jewellers that the gems were a family heirloom. This narrative of the +count’s is not wanting in circumstantiality, still, like everything else +emanating from the De la Motte mint, it has the customary false stamp +upon it, more particularly in that portion relating to the amount said +to have been received for the diamonds which the count succeeded in +disposing of, as we shall by-and-by show. It should be remembered that +this statement was not made public until long after the fact of the sale +and purchase of the diamonds in question had been proved beyond a shadow +of doubt by the English jewellers concerned in the transaction. + +“I arrived in London,” says the count, “on the 17th of April, 1785, with +the Chevalier O’Neil, who was perfectly acquainted with the object of +my journey. As he knew the countess was admitted to the queen, I made +no mystery to him _of the present she had received from her majesty_, +nor of my motive for parting with the diamonds in London. I had a letter +of credit on Messrs. Morland and Co., to whom I went the day after my +arrival. On making inquiry for the most noted jewellers, I was directed +to Jefferys and to Gray; I first saw Jefferys, who lived in Piccadilly, +told him I had some diamonds to dispose of, and left him my address. The +next morning he came to my lodgings, where I showed him the eighteen oval +stones that belonged to the Necklace, and acquainted him with the price +_which the cardinal had fixed_. He requested me to let him take them home +in order to examine them, and offered me his acknowledgment, which I +accepted. He promised to bring me an answer in four days; the next day I +set out with the Chevalier O’Neil for Newmarket. During five days that we +remained there, I gained by betting nine hundred and sixty guineas, sixty +of which I expended in travelling expenses, the purchase of clothes, and +various other articles. + +“On my return to London, I went to Jefferys, who told me that a gentleman +had offered four thousand pounds sterling; that he could not pay ready +money, but would give notes at six and twelve months’ date, and would +find ample security. I told him I would consider of it, took back my +diamonds, and returned him his acknowledgment. The same day I went to +Gray’s in New Bond Street,[162] left with him the largest oval stone, +and directed him to come to me the next day, when I would let him see a +greater quantity; the same day I purchased of him a self-winding watch. +The next day he came with a Jew named Eliason. I intrusted him with the +same stones I had left in Jefferys’ hands; he told me he had already +examined them, and that a broker whom Jefferys employed had brought them +to him. I then let him know the offer that Jefferys had made me, and the +terms of payment, adding, that not knowing Jefferys, nor the person he +had recommended to me, I did not choose to part with so considerable a +property upon credit. That besides, I proposed staying but a few days in +London, whither I might probably never again return, and that I did not +think proper to leave anything behind me that might create any anxiety. + +“He answered that I was perfectly in the right, and that if we agreed on +the price he would pay me ready money. I told him my price: he took away +the diamonds, and promised to bring an answer the following day; which he +did, but still accompanied by Gray. He made me an offer of three thousand +guineas, which I would not accept. After pointing out stones that had +flaws and other defects they left me, with an assurance that the offer +they made me for ready money was very adequate; and that I should not +meet with a more eligible one. I let them go away, telling them I would +keep my diamonds rather than part with them at that price. + +“Next morning they returned, and asked to inspect the diamonds a second +time: I permitted them. O’Neil was present, as well as my _valet +de chambre_. Eliason then drew out of his pocket a pearl necklace, +consisting of two very beautiful rows, a snuff-box set with brilliants +and pearls, with a medallion on the lid, and several parcels of pearl +seed. He valued these several articles at about five hundred and sixty +pounds sterling. I said that if he would give me four thousand pounds, +together with those articles, the bargain was struck. He exclaimed +loudly, and then made a motion to go, offering three thousand pounds and +the articles I had selected—a proposal which I rejected. + +“In the interim Jefferys made a second application; I told him my +resolution was to sell them for ready money only. I then delivered to +him thirteen stones of the first quality I possessed; the two finest, +which belonged to the Necklace, not having been given to the countess; +and no doubt but the queen made a present of them to Mademoiselle Dorvat, +or some other woman in her intimacy, for there were several which were +similar. I had selected two, one intended to be set in a ring for the +countess, the other for myself. Regnier, my jeweller at Paris, set +them before my departure for London.[163] Both myself and the countess +commonly wore them. The cardinal has seen them both. + +“I called the next day at Gray’s to purchase several articles in steel; +there I found Eliason, who told me I was over-tenacious, that his offer +was a very fair one. He showed me some very fine pearls for a pair of +bracelets, and a ring forming a neck-button; I went into a separate +apartment, where we entered into a bargain. After two hours’ difficulty +on both sides we at length agreed upon a price for the eighteen oval +stones, viz., three thousand pounds sterling ready money; the pearl +necklace of two rows, valued at two hundred pounds, the snuff-box one +hundred and forty, the pearl-seed one hundred and twenty, and a diamond +star which I took in Gray’s shop, valued at three hundred. + +“This was the first bargain. When I had received the money and jewels, +he told me that Jefferys’ broker had brought him other diamonds which +were no doubt my property; that if I chose to sell them, I had better +do business with him than with another: that I should gain by it the +commission and some ready money. I went the same day and took out of +Jefferys’ hands the thirteen stones I had left in his possession. He +had come to the knowledge of my dealing with Gray, and being vexed at +having missed the opportunity of making the purchase himself, he upon +that account pretended, as will be seen hereafter, that he had acted +respecting the diamonds with more propriety than Gray, for that he, +Jefferys, surmising the diamonds to have been stolen, had given notice +at a police office (which in fact was a falsehood[164]), and had refused +to buy them. He afterwards the more readily made a declaration to this +purpose before a certain notary named Dubourg, at the request of M. de +Carbonnières, agent for the cardinal, as he said he believed me to be in +Turkey, and depended upon never seeing me again in England. His behaviour +to me when I returned to London will show how _delicate_ this Jefferys +was in his conduct; since he came to me after judgment was passed to ask +me whether I had not any diamonds to dispose of, telling me he would be +the purchaser, and allow me a greater advantage than Gray would. It will +soon be seen what answer I made him, and the method I took in order to +make apparent what the justificatory writings produced by the cardinal +consisted in. + +“The thirteen stones taken from Jefferys I carried to Gray, telling him +I would come the next day to his shop myself, and that he might appoint +Eliason to be there at the same hour. The departure of the Chevalier +O’Neil prevented my keeping the appointment. He had received a letter +from his brother and another from his colonel, requiring his return with +all possible speed to join his regiment by the 15th of May. He had not +been able to obtain a longer leave of absence as he hoped; the troops the +emperor was then marching towards Holland were the occasion of the orders +he had received: he was therefore forced to leave me in London. He took +charge of several purchases I had made, and of the parcel of pearls I +had got in exchange. As he went by the coach, he took his place the day +before at Mr. Guyon’s office, where he found the Capuchin McDermott, a +professed spy, who for the things made known to me by his own confession +(and those certainly are the most harmless) deserves to be made an +example of. The Capuchin knew the Chevalier O’Neil, with whom he renewed +acquaintance; and finding in the course of conversation he had come over +with me, he begged he would introduce him to me, which the chevalier +did. He told me that as I did not understand English he would be my +interpreter, and do me all the little services in his power. I accepted +his obliging offer, and that day he dined with me. He had been procurator +of his order at Vassy, six leagues distant from Bar-sur-Aube; he knew my +family, and had seen me, by his account, a child. + +“In this, my first interview, I did not communicate to him anything +relative to my having diamonds to dispose of; in short, I acquainted +him with no particulars beyond that I had money to remit to Paris. He +answered that he knew a merchant in the City named Motteaux, that if I +negotiated through his means he would allow me the same advantage as to +traders, whereas Mr. Hammersly would deal with me as with a nobleman. +He calculated the benefit I should reap by placing that sum with Mr. +Motteaux, and as it seemed to me rather considerable, and he persuaded +me that Mr. Hammersly would not make me the same allowance, I determined +to go to Mr. Motteaux, whither he accompanied me. I delivered to him +the three thousand pounds sterling I had already received on the former +bargain.” + +McDermott, it seems, when he and the Count de la Motte were taking a +stroll together in Kensington Gardens, questioned the count, in an +off-hand Irish way, as to the sources of his wealth, and hinted that he +must have made some lucky coups at the gaming-table—one had not to know +the count long to discover that he was a practised gambler—whereupon the +count replied, in the coolest manner possible, that he was not partial +to “play.” “The truth is,” said he, “I married Madame de la Motte, with +her slender income of eight hundred francs, against the wishes of my +family, as I had not a single franc of my own; but we came up to Paris, +when Madame and the Countess d’Artois recommended us to several of the +ministers, who in their turn recommended the countess to lay her case +before the queen. She did so, was taken into favour, and hence our +present affluence.”[165] + +“Let us return now to the thirteen diamonds I had left with Gray. When +the Chevalier O’Neil was gone I went to that jeweller, who immediately +sent into the City to let Eliason know I waited for him at his house. He +came, but we made no bargain; eight or ten days passed away in fruitless +meetings and considerations. They often told me they wondered how a +gentleman should have such a knowledge of diamonds as to ascertain the +exact value of them; but that I certainly must be sensible that such +articles were difficult to dispose of; that they should perhaps be +obliged to keep them two or three years upon their hands, during which +time the interest of the money was lost, and other things to the same +purport. At length, after much trouble and delay, we came to a settlement +for the thirteen stones, for the sum of two thousand pounds sterling, +ready money; a ring, convertible into a neck button, valued at two +hundred pounds sterling, and for which I lately got but one hundred; +a parcel of very fine pearls for the mounting of a pair of bracelets, +valued at a hundred and fifty pounds; another parcel of pearls for sixty +pounds, and a pair of girandole earrings, valued at five hundred pounds. +Such were the two bargains I made with Eliason in presence of Gray. +Six diamonds, which formed the trefoil of two oval ones, I exchanged +at Gray’s for a medallion set round with brilliants, two steel swords, +a shirt-pin, a pair of asparagus tongs, and a wine syphon. Four more +diamonds which were between the rose and the four tassels were likewise +exchanged at Gray’s for a ring, still in my possession, a small hoop of +diamond-seeds, a lady’s pocket-case, in satin and gold, with all its +fittings, a pair of steel buckles, and a miniature. + +“I had sixty diamonds left, arising from the tassels, twenty-two from +the festoons, and the stone which formed the button. Out of the sixty I +selected twenty-eight, which I gave to Gray to set in drop earrings; and +the two-and-twenty of the festoons to make into a necklace of one single +row. I then had left only thirty-two stones arising from the tassels, +and stone forming the button. I chose the sixteen finest, which I kept +unmounted, and the remaining sixteen I parted with to Gray, at the rate +of eighty livres the carat, out of which I bought in his shop sundry +small matters not worth mentioning. Thus terminated all my negotiations +for diamonds in London. + +“I had still remaining the button stone, which I showed to Mr. Morland, +asking him whether he could not find an opportunity of selling it to my +advantage. He said he would let an acquaintance inspect it, and let me +know his answer in two or three days. He did so by telling me he had the +stone in his bank, and that one thousand guineas had been offered for +it, which he believed might be increased to twelve hundred. He proposed +my calling in Pall Mall to take the diamond, and from thence go into the +city to Mr. Duval’s, the person who made the offer; but that he believed +it was not for himself. We met with Mr. Duval, who showed me several +articles in jewellery. I told him my design was not to purchase any, +since I was, on the contrary, come to treat with him about a diamond +which Mr. Morland had given him to inspect. After surveying it a second +time, he told me that the person to whom he had shown it offered but one +thousand pounds, which he (Duval) looked upon to be its full value. I +took back the diamond, and resolved to keep it till I found a means to +dispose of it more advantageously. The same day I gave it to Gray to set +in a ring. + +“Let us now proceed to the enumeration of those stones that were sold and +exchanged in Paris. Before my departure for England, the countess had +delivered to M. Filleul some diamonds, which she had kept privately, that +had formed part of the festoons and knots of the tassels; she desired +him to sell them for her, and pay her the money, charging him not to +make me acquainted with it. He sold the whole parcel to one Paris, a +jeweller, for the sum of twenty-eight thousand French livres (francs). +Two stones, part of the festoons, were exchanged by me for two pendulum +clocks at one Furet’s, in the Rue St. Honoré, with twenty-five louis-d’or +in addition. One diamond, in like manner from the festoons, was set in +a ring by Regnier, my jeweller. I had a chain in small brilliants which +Franks the Jew had sold me; that I gave to Regnier, adding a few small +diamonds which belonged to the knots of the tassels, the whole of which +he made into a chain, which the cardinal’s counsel valued at forty +thousand livres. I with much difficulty parted with it for _sixty pounds +sterling_ in London. It was nearly the same with every particular; they +were, in order to obtain their ends, obliged to multiply the price for +which every article sold in a like proportion; and thus, from this false +estimation, endeavour to prove that the _whole_ of the Necklace had been +in my possession. + +“I had now left in all sixteen diamonds which I had brought back from +London, four-and-twenty very small ones, which were on the sides of +each oval stone at the bottom of the tassels, twenty-eight encircling +the two large oval stones, two small ones on each side of the button, +eighteen of the small size, six of which held the two oval stones between +the festoon, and the twelve others which were immediately adjoining +to the ribbon at top. The rose and what held the tassels were not yet +taken to pieces. I delivered the whole to Regnier, out of all which he +selected the best diamonds, and nearly of an equality, to encircle the +top of a bonbonnière and mount a small pair of drop earrings which the +countess wanted to make a present of. The remainder I directed him to +sell, for which he got thirteen or fourteen thousand livres. These made +up the number of what I sold, as well at Paris as at London. Let us now +recapitulate. + +“I received in ready money in London _five thousand pounds_ sterling from +Mr. Eliason, and fifty or sixty pounds from Mr. Gray. + +“In exchange I received a medallion, a pair of girandole earrings, a +ring, a shirt-pin, a hoop, two steel swords, a pair of steel buckles, +one pound of pearl-seed, two rows of pearls forming a necklace, a mount +for bracelets, a small parcel of pearls, a neck-button convertible into +a ring, a snuff-box, a pair of asparagus tongs, a wine syphon, a lady’s +pocket-case in satin and gold with its fittings, a miniature, and a +pen-case of roses valued at sixty pounds sterling.[166] Some few other +small articles I had from Gray’s shop, as needles, knives, steel forks, +spring-pincers, scissors, a pair of silver buckles, an opera glass, a +small steel watch-chain. + +“I sold at Paris to M. Paris several diamonds to the amount of +twenty-eight thousand livres, and I received nearly fifty louis-d’or for +a part of the pearl-seed carried from London by the Chevalier O’Neil. The +remainder of the pearl-seed was sold to Mordecai, a Jew residing in the +Rue aux Ours. + +“I have already said I had delivered to Gray twenty-two stones to set +in a necklace, and twenty-six[167] for drop earrings. I had acquainted +him with the day of my departure, and he had promised the work should +be completed; yet the day previous thereto he showed me all the pieces, +only sketched, assuring me there was a great deal more work than he had +at first imagined, and that if I would leave them with him he had an +opportunity of conveying them to Paris within a fortnight. I left him +the diamonds with my address, and set out upon my journey on a Sunday +morning with the Capuchin McDermott, who attended me as far as Dover. At +parting with him I made him a present of a snuff-box with a very handsome +painting on the lid, and defrayed his journey back to London. + +“When I left Paris I had taken credit for two thousand crowns; I won +at Newmarket near a thousand pounds sterling: out of both which sums +I expended a hundred guineas in saddlery, harness, and race-horse +body-cloths, a hundred guineas more for a phaeton, a hundred and fifty +guineas in English stuffs and clothes for myself and servants; the +rest was spent in travelling, and during my six weeks’ stay in London, +which will not appear extraordinary when it is known I had taken up +my residence at one of the principal hotels in that town, that I kept +two servants, a hired coach, and two saddle horses, that I often gave +entertainments, and that keeping the most fashionable company, I was +obliged to play and enter into expensive pleasures. + +“All I now had left of the famous Necklace were two rings—one for +myself, the other belonging to the countess—a small diamond mounted on +a plum-coloured stone, a pair of drop earrings, and a circle on a black +tortoiseshell-box, and what I had left with Gray—namely, the necklace of +twenty-two stones and the earrings. + +“Thus I have given a minute detail of the diamonds I possessed and of the +manner in which I had disposed of them. + +“From the account I have kept and have just set forth of all the diamonds +I had in my possession or that of the countess belonging to the Necklace, +and by comparing it with an exact representation thereof engraved +on a scale of the size of the diamonds, it appears that the queen +had kept _two hundred and fifty-six diamonds_ of the same magnitude, +_ninety-eight_ smaller ones of the same form, and the _two finest +diamonds_ of the first size. The two hundred and fifty-six diamonds were +what composed the most beautiful part of the Necklace, on account of the +assemblage and the regularity of so great a number of stones.”[168] + +Unfortunately for the count’s reputation for accuracy, a sworn affidavit +of Gray’s, setting forth a true extract from his ledger, and produced +at the time of the trial, gives the following version of his dealings +with the count. This not only shows a considerable variation of price in +respect to several articles received in exchange, but yields in round +numbers a total of nearly three thousand pounds in excess of the amount +admitted by the count to have been received:— + + _Monsieur le Comte de Valois, of London_, + DR. to ROBERT GRAY. + _May 20th, 1785._ + + £ _s._ _d._ Prices quoted + | by Count de + | la Motte. + A medallion set with diamonds 230 0 0 | + A diamond ring 94 10 0 | + A pearl knot for a lady 52 10 0 | + A hand fire-screen 1 4 0 | + A funnel and glass 0 6 0 | + A purse 4 14 6 | + A handsome steel sword 100 0 0 | + Ditto ditto 45 0 0 | + Two toothpick-cases 12 12 0 | + A carving-knife and fork 1 4 0 | + A pair of blue steel buckles 0 18 0 | + 2000 needles 1 10 0 | + A strong casket 5 5 0 | + A diamond hoop ring 13 13 0 | + Four razors 1 0 0 | + Setting a diamond ring 1 8 0 | + A ring-case 0 8 0 | + A silk pocket-case, with fittings complete 12 12 0 | + A corkscrew 0 12 0 | + A handsome star-shaped diamond brooch 400 0 0 | 300 0 0 + A pair of asparagus tongs 2 12 6 | + A gold watch 38 0 0 | + A purse 4 14 6 | + A cord for a cane 1 1 0 | + A pair of scales for diamonds 1 1 0 | + A wine syphon 5 5 0 | + A pair of spring pincers 0 10 6 | + A pearl necklace 170 0 0 | 200 0 0 + 1800 pearls 270 0 0 | 120 0 0 + A diamond aigrette in the form of a rose 60 0 0 | 60 0 0 + A pair of steel buckles 18 18 0 | + A watch-chain 6 16 6 | + A handsome pair of diamond girandole | + earrings 600 0 0 | 500 0 0 + A brilliant ring 100 0 0 | 200 0 0 + A diamond snuff-box 120 0 0 | 140 0 0 + A diamond shirt-button 28 0 0 | + A pair of buckles 7 7 0 | + Ditto ditto 3 13 6 | + A parcel of pearl-seed and other pearls, 1890 0 0 | 210 0 0 + for embroidery | + Paid in cash 6090 0 0 | 5060 0 0 + ----------------+ + Total £10,371 6 0 | + =================+ + Credit by value received in various | + diamonds £10,371 6 0 | [169] + =================+ + +While the count was away leading a life of ease and pleasure—bargaining, +it is true, about diamonds to-day, but “betting at Newmarket” on the +morrow, riding about town in his “hired coach” or on his “saddle horse,” +with his groom behind, giving “occasional entertainments at the principal +hotels,” “keeping the most fashionable company,” “playing deeply,” and +“entering into the most expensive pleasures,”—while all this was going +on, madame the countess was putting off troublesome inquiries respecting +her husband’s whereabouts as best she could, saying one day that he +was in Berry looking after a legacy, at another time that he was in +Poictou, and finally that he was in England, where he had won £1000 on +a horse-race.[170] Still she managed to enjoy herself after her own +fashion. Cardinal Prince de Rohan reluctantly admitted that she visited +him at the episcopal palace at Saverne at the end of May, dressed in +man’s clothes, and moreover, that he had sent one of the episcopal +carriages to fetch her.[171] One can fancy the high jinks between the +countess and Cagliostro, and black-sheep Baron de Planta, and the Prince +de Rohan, and “_la petite comtesse_,” as Cagliostro’s wife was called, +over the cardinal’s matchless Tokay on this notable occasion. + + + + +XXI. + +1785. JUNE 22–AUG. 6. + +THE GATHERING OF THE STORM. + + +On the 22nd of June, Count de la Motte finds himself in Paris again, +with a letter of credit for the sum of 122,896 livres in his pocket-book +on Perregaux the banker—the same shrewd Perregaux who, according to the +popular story, after refusing the services of young Jacques Lafitte, +engaged him the instant afterwards from observing him pick up and +carefully preserve a common pin as in dejected mood he crossed the +courtyard of the banker’s hôtel, and who subsequently took him into +partnership and gave him his daughter in marriage, and so enabled him to +found the great house of Lafitte and Co., of which he was so many years +the distinguished head. + +The count turns his letter of credit into hard cash on the following +day,[172] and then calls upon Regnier with some of the stones he had +failed to get rid of in England, commissions him to mount the best of +them round the lid of a circular box (a _bonbonnière_), to set others for +a small pair of drop earrings which the countess intends making a present +of,[173] and sells him the remainder—namely, twenty brilliants, weighing +in the aggregate forty-two carats, one weighing four and a quarter +carats, and thirty-nine weighing fifty-nine and a half carats—for 27,000 +livres, discharging at the same time Regnier’s claim for setting the two +diamond rings for himself and madame, and also an old debt due for either +jewellery or plate.[174] + +The De la Mottes now make no secret of the affluence which, after years +of watching and waiting, is theirs at last. Madame, they confidentially +admit, is in high favour with the queen, who, they insinuate, showers +gifts upon her confidant with no niggard hand. The countess’s ambition +was to be lady of the manor of Fontette. She has the means of gratifying +it now; nevertheless, it is not to Fontette that she goes, but to +Bar-sur-Aube, which, with its somewhat free and pleasant society, has +greater charms for her. On retirement for a time to Bar-sur-Aube, her +heart is fixed. She and the count had been long looking forward to +spending the present autumn in their new abode, which by the aid of the +Parisian decorator, who for months past had been exercising his talents +upon the principal apartments, was rapidly becoming a model of elegance +and taste. + +One little thing, however, was somewhat troubling the De la Mottes +at this moment and casting its shadow across their anticipated +enjoyment—namely, the affair of the Necklace, the first instalment in +respect of which would soon be falling due. Still the countess, having +accomplished what she had, would surely find it no very difficult task +to arrange a postponement which would leave her husband and herself at +liberty to enjoy their autumn holiday in peace and quietude. It is with +this view that the countess calls upon the cardinal, as we have already +stated, while the count, looking upon the affair as good as settled, +hies down to Bar-sur-Aube to await the arrival of several waggon-loads +of furniture which were on their way from Paris. Among these we may be +certain there were some handsome suites of the very latest fashion, +supplied, we know, by Héricourt, Fournier, and Gervais, the crack +upholsterers of the period, at the cost of 50,000 livres. There was no +lack of clocks too from Furet, of marble groups from Adams and Chevalier, +nor of mirrors, and chandeliers, and table-glass, and Wedgwood ware, then +getting into fashion in Paris, from Sikes.[175] A little automaton bird +too, that flew about the room all alone, and for which madame had given +1500 livres,[176] would certainly not be forgotten. + +It must have been at this particular juncture that the cardinal chanced +to see some two or three letters actually written by Marie-Antoinette, +and that, struck by the dissimilarity of the handwriting of these letters +and those received from Madame de la Motte, he communicated his doubts +upon the subject to the countess.[177] She, with her active brain and +ever ready tongue, had of course a hundred reasons to prove to the +credulous cardinal that he was mistaken, and so set his mind at rest. Not +so as regarded her own; she felt none of that confidence with which she +could so readily inspire her dupe. She feared the mine was on the point +of being sprung, and that the explosion would take place before she could +make good her retreat. To reassure alike the cardinal and the jewellers +she goes with her casket of jewels,—which Regnier tells her are worth +100,000 livres to her notary, one Mainguet, with whom she pawns them for +a loan of 35,000 livres, 30,000 of which she takes to the Prince de Rohan +to give to Böhmer and Bassenge. Then she packs off Rétaux de Villette +post-haste to Bar-sur-Aube, and so much is she taken up with these urgent +matters that she neither dines nor sups nor sleeps at home on that +day.[178] + +One can imagine the consternation of the Count de la Motte as, while +superintending the arrangement of the new furniture and chatting with +the decorator respecting the extremely satisfactory effect of the _tout +ensemble_ of madame’s boudoir, he catches sight of Villette driving up to +the house in hot haste, and looking far more grave than is the fellow’s +wont. The count rushes down the steps to meet him—they turn aside for +a few minutes’ conversation, and after a hurried lunch, and some hasty +instructions to the workpeople, the order is given to put fresh horses +to the carriage, and the pair are soon rattling over the road to Paris. +By dint of handsome “_pourboires_” to postillions, and considerable +wear and tear of horseflesh, the hundred and forty miles that intervene +between them and the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles are got over in less than the +four-and-twenty hours. At noon on the following day (August 3) a council +is held, at which it is decided that madame shall send a message to +Bassenge, requesting him to favour her with a call. The jeweller, in the +belief that the summons can only refer to the Necklace, takes the Hôtel +de Strasbourg in his way, sees the cardinal, speaks to him of his own and +his partner’s inquietude at the queen having taken no notice whatever +of the firm’s letter of July 12, and informs him of the message he has +received from Madame de la Motte, to whom he now hastens. Bassenge finds +the countess alone, with no other furniture in the apartment beyond a +bedstead and a couch, and everything about the house betokening a sudden +“flitting.” The jeweller simply thought he was dreaming when, after the +ordinary compliments had passed between them, madame, with the calmest of +countenances and the firmest of voices, said to him: “I have sent for you +to let you know that you have been deceived—the word ‘_approuvé_’ and the +signature attached to the paper containing the conditions of sale of the +Necklace are forgeries—the queen’s handwriting has been counterfeited. As +for the rest, the cardinal, you know, is very rich; you had better look +to him, and insist upon his rendering himself personally liable.”[179] + +Bassenge, as soon as he recovered his self-possession, hurried home +to communicate to his partner the astounding intelligence he had just +received, but Böhmer, it will be remembered, was at Crespy with Madame +Campan on this very day.[180] The jeweller therefore resolved to look in +again on the cardinal, and ask an explanation from him. The Prince de +Rohan, on being apprised of what the countess had said, shared in the +fears of the jeweller, though he dared not avow as much. He hesitated +for some time ere he made a reply; then he strove to reassure Bassenge +by affirming that he had in his own possession a written agreement of +the queen’s, and he bade the jeweller go home and make himself perfectly +easy; and home, and somewhat easier in his mind, Bassenge went. Great +stress was laid at the trial on this mis-statement of the cardinal’s, +still we can very well understand it to have been nothing more than an +exaggeration of the fact that he was in possession of letters which he +believed to be written by the queen, authorising the purchase of the +Necklace on her behalf. + +When Böhmer returns home from Crespy on the following day, the two +partners compare notes, and decide that the queen ought to be seen +without a moment’s delay. To Versailles, therefore, Böhmer hastens, but, +as we have already stated, is refused an audience by Marie-Antoinette. +A day or two afterwards, however, he finds himself summoned by courier +to wait upon the queen, who has by this time learnt from Madame Campan +the result of her conversation at Crespy with the crown jeweller, and +is anxious to hear the astounding recital from his own lips. Böhmer, +disregarding all that Madame Campan has told him, and in the full belief +that the cardinal holds the queen’s written agreement for the purchase +of the Necklace, proceeds to Versailles in all confidence, determined +to be no longer trifled with, even by royalty itself. On his arrival he +is ushered into the queen’s private cabinet, when Marie-Antoinette at +once inquires of him: “By what fatality it is that she is still doomed +to hear of his foolish pretensions about selling her an article which +she had steadily refused for several years?” Böhmer, reassured by what +the cardinal had told Bassenge, no longer felt any doubt as to the queen +being really a party to the purchase of the Necklace, and replied, “that +he was compelled, being unable to pacify his creditors any longer.” “What +are your creditors to me?” inquired the queen. Böhmer then related to +her seriatim all that, according to his deluded imagination, had passed +between them through the intervention of the Cardinal de Rohan. She was +equally thunderstruck, incensed, and surprised at everything she heard. +In vain did she speak; the jeweller, alike importunate and dangerous, +repeated incessantly: “Madame, this is no time for feigning; deign to +confess that you have my Necklace, and order me some assistance, or else +a bankruptcy will soon bring the whole affair to light.”[181] + +Marie-Antoinette, driven almost frantic by this flagrant imposture and +by the wanton manner in which her name had been abused and trifled with, +immediately sent for the Abbé de Vermond, “her private secretary, her +confidant, and her counsellor;”[182] and subsequently for the Baron de +Breteuil—the cardinal’s two bitterest enemies. Delighted at the prospect +they saw of crushing the grand almoner, not merely by effecting his utter +ruin at court, but by disgracing him in the eyes of all Europe, they +never for a moment thought of the consequences of permitting the name +of the second personage in the kingdom to be mixed up in a swindling +transaction and associated with those of a profligate ecclesiastic, a +wholesale forger, a Palais Royal courtesan, a sharper, and an abandoned +woman and thief. + +Hardly had Böhmer made his partner acquainted with what transpired at his +interview with the queen, ere another courier in the royal livery dashes +up to the door of the jewellers’ establishment—“Au Grand Balcon,” in the +Rue Vendôme—this time with a letter from the Baron de Breteuil, minister +of justice and of the king’s household, and the Prince de Rohan’s +declared enemy, again requiring Böhmer’s attendance at Versailles. On +the receipt of this new summons, Böhmer hurries off to the cardinal for +instructions and finds his eminence by this time pretty well crazed with +this same Necklace business. Nevertheless he enjoins the jeweller not to +breathe a word about the queen, for should the minister discover that her +majesty had purchased the detested jewel, he would certainly inform the +king, and they would all be involved in one common disgrace. Should the +Baron de Breteuil question him as to the meaning of the letter which the +firm had sent to the queen, he had better reply that it referred to some +new set of diamonds which they desired to sell to her majesty. + +Primed with these equivocal instructions, the crown jeweller proceeds +nervously to his interview with the minister; but whether he was as +reticent as the cardinal bade him be on the subject of the sale of the +Necklace we have our doubts. Böhmer’s object was to get his money; but +then he dared not fly in face of the instructions he received from the +minister. He therefore played fast and loose with the cardinal, not +daring to break with him for fear he should loose his 1,400,000 livres, +but betraying him, so far as he thought he might safely venture to do, to +his acknowledged enemy. The result was that a few days afterwards, on +the recommendation of the Baron de Breteuil, who assured the jewellers +that they should be paid for the Necklace, a memorial was drawn up and +forwarded to the queen by the crown jewellers, wherein was set forth a +complete history of the negotiations which had been entered into with the +cardinal, and which had resulted in the sale to him of the Necklace, as +they believed, on her majesty’s account. + +At this point the arch _intrigante_ seems to have lost her head, for on +the morning of the 4th, the day after she had made her damaging admission +to Bassenge respecting the signature to the contract, she sends her maid +to the Hôtel de Strasbourg to beg the cardinal to call upon her. He does +so, when she receives him seemingly all in tears, and tells him that she +is a victim to the malevolence of the courtiers of Versailles, who are +jealous of the favour shown her by the queen; that she is obliged to fly +to avoid their attacks, and entreats of him to afford her an asylum until +she can provide herself with some safe retreat. The stupid cardinal, not +even yet convinced that he has been duped, or, if so, fearing to admit +as much, hesitates at first, but eventually consents to receive her, +her husband, and her maid at his hôtel.[183] The countess afterwards +pretended that it was the cardinal who sent for her and the count; that +he kept them almost prisoners, and used every argument to induce them to +cross the frontier into Germany with all speed, so as to be out of the +way when the storm burst forth. She even went so far as to say that the +count was obliged to threaten to use force ere he could get released.[184] + +Only one motive can be suggested for the countess taking refuge at +the Palais-Cardinal. She knew, or she suspected, that the police were +watching her house and tracking her footsteps, and she did not know how +soon the outstretched hand of justice might be upraised to strike, and +she may have thought from the cardinal’s high position, and the power +and influence of his friends and connections, that the police would +not dare to violate the sanctity of the episcopal domicile. For two +entire days the De la Mottes remained in close seclusion at the Hôtel de +Strasbourg, when finding the confinement irksome, or thinking possibly +that the affair would be certain to be hushed up, or that the law if put +in force would not trouble itself about a couple of fugitives hidden in +some far-away country town in the Champagne, they left the cardinal’s +on the evening of the 5th of August for their own house in the Rue +Neuve-Saint-Gilles. + +Arrived there the De la Mottes without a moment’s loss of time appear to +have made arrangements for sending the forger Villette out of the way. +Madame, calling him aside, confides to him what he is already well aware +of, namely, that her affairs are somewhat embarrassed, and that she and +the count propose retiring to Bar-sur-Aube until the storm has blown over +and the atmosphere is a trifle clearer. Placing 4000 livres in bank-notes +in her faithful secretary’s hand, “Go you,” said she, “to Italy for a +time;” and then to console the lover, whom hard necessity forced her to +abandon, she added, “I will soon recall you near me again.” The docile +Villette promised to do as he was bid. A cabriolet seems to have been +in waiting for him in the courtyard of the countess’s house, and into +it Villette got, and a little after two o’clock in the morning he was +presumed to be on his way to self-exile.[185] + +The following morning, while the count was giving some directions +respecting the last van-load of furniture, which was then being packed +in the courtyard of the hôtel, Bassenge looked in, and in answer to his +inquiries after madame’s health was informed by the count that she had +been at Versailles for the last three days pleading for the cardinal. De +la Motte added that he had only returned from Bar-sur-Aube three days +before, when he heard about the Necklace business for the first time. +“If,” remarked he in a jocular way, “the queen should ask you the meaning +of the letter of thanks which I hear you have addressed to her, why not +say it merely meant that the Necklace had always been at her disposition, +and that it was only a renewal of the offers of it which had been +previously made?”[186] + +No sooner had the count seen the last van-load of furniture safely off +than he went with Father Loth to Mainguet the notary, paid him his 35,000 +livres, and took away the jewels which madame had deposited with him a +few days previously.[187] These were necessary to the coming display +which the De la Mottes were bent upon making at Bar-sur-Aube. Determined +to lose no further time, the count and countess set out the same evening +for their country retreat; and it is said that at the moment the countess +stepped into the carriage she consoled the cardinal by promising to +return the very instant he should have need of her.[188] + + + + +XXII. + +1785. AUGUST 8–17. + +TWELVE DAYS’ STATE AT BAR-SUR-AUBE. + + +The countess had informed Beugnot, who had called upon her a short +time previously to inquire if she had any commands for Bar-sur-Aube, +whither he was about returning to spend his holidays, that it would not +be until the commencement of October, that she would again have the +pleasure of seeing him. “I was therefore very much surprised,” observes +he, “to see Madame de la Motte arrive at Bar-sur-Aube in the early +part of August, bringing with her her entire establishment, husband +included. Villette alone remained in Paris as a forlorn sentinel, and, +what appeared most strange, every day there arrived waggons loaded with +furniture—a far larger quantity in fact than the house would hold—and +magnificent furniture too. There were numerous handsome mirrors and +looking-glasses with which the walls of the _salon_, already resplendent +with a profusion of gilding, were decorated; the chairs and couches, +covered with beautiful tapestry, were also gilt.[189] Furet’s clocks, +and Adams and Chevalier’s marble groups and bronzes ornamented the +mantelpieces, and scattered about the _salon_ were some of those costly +fancies with which the arts contrive to tempt the extremest opulence, +such as a pair of automatic canaries that sang a duet together, and +another automaton bird, which flew about the room of itself. There were +likewise two gold musical boxes—things which have become common enough +since, but were still rare at that time; and clocks which by means of +certain mechanical arrangements displayed different scenes every hour +they struck. On seeing these things, one divined that they could only +have been bought by people tired of their money and anxious for the +first opportunity of flinging it out of window. In the dining-room were +two magnificent buffets on which were displayed a profusion of valuable +porcelain and two complete services of silver plate.”[190] The hangings +of the countess’s bed were of crimson velvet trimmed with gold lace and +fringe and embroidered with gold and spangles, while the counterpane was +worked all over with pearls[191] brought, it will be remembered, by the +count from England, and for which Gray had charged him over two thousand +two hundred pounds, and which, according to the countess, were reported +in the neighbourhood to be of the value of one hundred and fifty thousand +livres. “As a consummation of imprudence,” remarks Beugnot, “the De la +Mottes exhibited a casket containing more than two hundred thousand +livres worth of diamonds, the count himself being supplied with a far +larger quantity than seemed proper for an honest man.” + +“In the De la Mottes’ stables were twelve splendid horses, and in +their coach-house no fewer than five or six handsome carriages, made +in England,” says Beugnot, “with a care and intelligence which showed +that expense was the last thing these people troubled themselves about.” +Among these vehicles was a light and beautiful cabriolet in the form +of a balloon, and upwards of ten feet high. In this singular vehicle +the Count de la Motte used to drive about the neighbourhood, stared at +by the gaping peasants and townspeople.[192] The countess when paying +visits of ceremony rode in a carriage drawn by six horses with little +silver bells jingling at their collars and foxes’ brushes flopping at +their ears. She was invariably preceded by a couple of outriders, and +one day greatly astonished the Abbot of Clairvaux—who, though a little +king in these parts, only sported four horses himself—by driving up to +the abbey gateway in this unwonted state. The number of servants on the +De la Motte establishment was considerable, and their liveries were as a +matter of course extremely rich. Among them was one of those little negro +pages called “jokeis,” then much in fashion, engaged for madame’s special +service. In short, the count and countess at this period of their career +displayed in all their appointments a magnificence and a profusion more +than rivalling that of the wealthiest families in France. + +Madame’s superb embroidered robes and her valuable point lace were only +in keeping with the splendour of her household display. As for her +jewels, she no longer depended on a pair of diamond bracelets to attract +attention, for had she not now the magnificent pair of girandole earrings +for which Gray the jeweller had charged the count six hundred pounds +sterling, and the diamond star-shaped brooch which had cost another four +hundred pounds, and one of the handsomest diamonds in the whole Necklace +set as a ring by Regnier, besides other diamond rings innumerable? +The necklace, formed of “twenty-two of the very finest diamonds from +the festoons,” which Gray had mounted in accordance with the count’s +instructions, was flashing at this moment in the jeweller’s shop window, +13, New Bond Street, dazzling the eyes of Piccadilly and Bond Street +loungers, and exciting the envy of high-born English beauties; for Gray, +hard man that he was, would not part with the handsome jewel to the +Capuchin McDermott—whom the count had commissioned to procure it, and who +had made application for it to Gray on the count’s behalf—until he had +been paid the expense of setting. + +“We used to think,” remarks Beugnot, “that the Cardinal de Rohan paid for +all this brilliant extravagance, and we admired the good use which his +eminence made of the funds of the grand almonry. The first representation +we had witnessed of the magnificence of the De la Motte household had +astonished us; at this fresh display we felt uneasy and well nigh +indignant. Neither husband nor wife showed the least inquietude. Their +dinners were excellent; and fête followed upon fête. They endeavoured to +attract the neighbourhood to their house and get invited out in return, +and to a certain extent they succeeded.”[193] + +Within about ten miles or so of Bar-sur-Aube is Brienne, famous for its +military school, where the young Bonaparte it will be remembered studied +mathematics and the art of war; and where, in the neighbouring château, +lived Louis Loménie de Brienne, last Count of Brienne, who was brother of +the Archbishop of Sens, prime minister of France just before the outbreak +of the Revolution, and himself war minister for a time under Louis XVI. +The ends of both brothers were alike untimely. One, the archbishop, died +from a midnight carouse in which he was forced to join by the Jacobin +emissaries who came to carry him off from his palace at Sens to the +guillotine; the other by the guillotine itself, going thither in the same +set of tumbrils as Madame Elisabeth, the king’s sister. At the Château +de Brienne—a splendid edifice built by the count with the large fortune +he received with his wife, the daughter of a rich _fermier-général_—as +at almost every other château of importance at this period, private +theatricals appear to have been in vogue. + +“M. de la Motte one day mentioned to me,” remarks Beugnot, “that he had +received an invitation to one of these entertainments at the Château de +Brienne, and would be pleased if I would accompany him and accept of a +seat in his carriage. Being well known to M. de Brienne, I acceded to +the count’s request without hesitation, and on the appointed day we set +forth in a gorgeous equipage drawn by four splendidly-caparisoned horses, +and with three footmen behind us. Prior to our starting I felt strongly +inclined to recede, as I foresaw that I should have to undergo my share +of ridicule for this ostentatious display. On our arrival at the château +we alighted to the great scandal of those who saw us arrive. Happily for +us the preparations for the play absorbed almost everybody’s attention, +and among others that of the master and mistress of the house. We entered +the _salon_ so that we might be seen, and passed from thence into the +_salle de spectacle_. I was seated by the side of M. de la Motte, and +soon perceived that he was the object of malevolent glasses, which were +passed from hand to hand with shruggings of shoulders and mocking smiles. +He certainly furnished a good subject for them, for he was dressed in a +most singular style, and, what was in the worst of taste, diamonds were +displayed in every part of his toilette at a period when the greatest +simplicity already reigned in male attire.” + +One can picture the count with one side of his three-cornered hat looped +up with the magnificent diamond aigrette which he had bought of Gray, and +with the medallion set with diamonds for which he had given two hundred +and thirty pounds attached to a ribbon round his neck; with his diamond +watch-chain, his various diamond rings, and his diamond snuff-box, value +one hundred and twenty pounds; and with one or other of the very handsome +steel swords which he had brought over with him from England swinging at +his side. + +“The count wore a dress coat of sky-blue cloth, a white waistcoat +embroidered all over, and breeches of canary-colour taffeta. Still +this only indicated the somewhat antiquated elegant; but here is what +completed the absurdity. Madame de la Motte had taken it into her head +to have the left facing of her husband’s coat embroidered over with a +fine bouquet of lilies and roses intermixed. Nothing of the kind had been +worn by any one up to that time, and most certainly not since. Everybody +was asking what it could possibly mean: there were some who professed +to see in it a sort of parody upon the united escutcheons of monsieur +and madame, one of which contained _fleurs-de-lis_, the other roses. +Stupidity and self-conceit could hardly have gone further. + +“When the play was over we returned to the _salon_. The assembly was +composed of the distinguished families of the neighbourhood and of men of +letters from Paris—of the Abbé Morellet, la Harpe, Masson de Morvilliers, +&c. I saluted Madame de Brienne, who scarcely condescended to nod to me +in return, and then turned her back upon me. My reception by the master +of the house was reduced to a ‘Good evening, sir,’ uttered in a dry tone. +One feels ill at ease in the midst of a numerous circle after having +been coldly received by the host and hostess. I continued standing, not +knowing whither to bend my steps in the midst of this hostile camp, when +my good star brought to the _salon_ the Count de Dampierre, a great +bore, who relieved me of my difficulty by at once seizing hold of me. He +profited by the opportunity to speak to me of innovations of every kind +which were already fermenting in his brain; and under the circumstances +it was quite a treat to me to listen to him. In order that we might not +be separated during supper, he dragged me at once to table, and seated +me by his side, when he offered me in his own person the example of an +individual capable of speaking with warmth and eating with avidity at one +and the same moment. I was occasionally a trifle inattentive, owing to +my desire to observe how my travelling-companion was faring; but M. de +Dampierre always brought me back to the subject of his discourse. ‘Never +mind him,’ he would say, ‘he’s only some poor devil of a swell at whose +expense people have been amusing themselves for the last two hours. Do +you know him?’ + +“‘Yes, a little.’ + +“‘Well, what is he? Is he one of us? Does he know where we are?’ + +“‘Not the least in the world.’ + +“‘Well, then, let them do what they please with him;’ and M. de Dampierre +forthwith resumed his dissertation. + +“I only knew from the tales told by some of the guests of the tricks +which had been played upon M. de la Motte at the supper-table. It seems +that in spite of the splendid repast spread before his eyes he had been +debarred from partaking of the slightest nourishment, and that he rose +from the table as badly ballasted as Sancho Panza at the conclusion of +the first feast served to him under his own government. This could only +have been brought about by a concert of ‘good turns,’ the success of +which enraptured the originators who came to relate the affair to us. The +Count de Dampierre inveighed against this interruption: + +“‘Ah! well, well! but leave us alone; we have neither diamonds nor +canary-coloured breeches, nor bouquets embroidered at our button-holes. +There is your man cowering in the chimney-corner: go and laugh at his +expense, since he is in the humour to submit to it, and permit us to talk +sense!’ + +“After a time M. de la Motte grew bold, and came to me to propose that we +should leave. I consented with all my heart; but there still remained a +dreg at the bottom of the cup for me to swallow. + +“When I went in all humility to salute M. de Brienne, and to ask him +almost tremblingly if he had any commands to give me for Bar-sur-Aube, +he signalled to me to advance, so that in getting clear of the hands of +M. de Dampierre I fell into those of M. de Brienne, who was quite M. de +Dampierre’s equal in holding fast to a good listener. M. de Brienne had +not been at table, and had had of course nothing to do with the practical +jokes of which M. de la Motte had been the victim. Indeed, he had +listened with suppressed anger to the account which had been given him +of the tricks played off upon the count, still he did not approve of my +having presented myself at his house in such company. I excused myself as +well as I could, assuring him M. de la Motte had informed me that he was +invited for that particular day. M. de Brienne proved to me that whether +M. de la Motte was invited or not, I did very wrong to accompany him. I +agreed with him, and asked his pardon, as the shortest way of terminating +the discussion, whereupon he immediately opened a conversation upon +another subject. There were scarcely any affairs in the commune in which +M. de Brienne did not take a lively interest, and he did me the honour to +consult me upon many of them, consequently there were plenty of materials +for a lengthened conversation. + +“Poor M. de la Motte remained at a distance, watching our gestures, and +awaiting the moment when I should be at liberty. During all this time +people passed and repassed him with expressions of contempt or pity. I +did not dare utter his name, though I had observed he had been waiting +for me fully an hour. I risked a first salute to M. de Brienne, as if +about to take my leave, but he paid no attention whatever to it, and +continued speaking. A few minutes afterwards I made a new attempt to +release myself, whereupon my host proposed to me to sleep at Brienne. As +our discussion continued I could see that my travelling-companion was on +live coals. At last, by a courageous effort, I succeeded in disengaging +myself, and left with M. de la Motte. We stepped into his magnificent +carriage, having behind us two footmen with lighted torches, and a negro +covered from head to foot with silver lace. The windows of the _salon_ +looked out upon the court of honour of the château; Madame de Brienne +and every one present were at the windows to observe the magnificence +of our departure, and saluted us by clapping their hands, laughing, and +indulging in mocking remarks which distinctly reached our ears. The +carriage only rolled on the faster.”[194] + +A day or two afterwards Madame de la Motte proposed to Beugnot to +accompany her on a visit she was about to pay to the Duke de Penthièvre, +but Beugnot, not wishing to place himself in a ridiculous position a +second time, very decidedly declined the honour. He however accepted the +countess’s offer to set him down at Clairvaux, where he had been invited, +and which was on the road from Bar-sur-Aube to Château-Villain, and to +call and fetch him on her return in the evening. + +“In accordance with this arrangement,” says Beugnot, “we left +Bar-sur-Aube at eight o’clock in the morning of the 17th of August, +1785, a day I shall never forget. Madame de la Motte having set me down +at Clairvaux, as had been agreed, went on to Château-Villain, where +she dined and met with a reception which astonished those who composed +the Penthièvre court. The duke himself re-conducted the countess at +her departure to the door of the _salon_ opening on to the grand +staircase, an honour which he did not pay even to duchesses, but reserved +exclusively for princesses of the blood-royal, so strongly were the +lessons of Madame de Maintenon on the honours to be paid to illegitimacy +impressed upon his mind.”[195] + + + + +XXIII. + +1785. AUGUST 15–23. + +LETTRES-DE-CACHET IN THE ŒIL-DE-BŒUF—IN THE RUE SAINT-CLAUDE—AND AT +BAR-SUR-AUBE. + + +At noon on the 15th of August, 1785, on the festival of the Assumption, +and the fête-day of Marie-Antoinette, the Cardinal de Rohan, attired +in his sacerdotal robes, was waiting in the Salle de l’Œil-de-Bœuf the +arrival of the king and queen, before whom he was about to celebrate +high mass in the chapel of the Château of Versailles. Conspicuous among +the cardinal’s vestments was his gorgeously-embroidered alb—worn by him +only upon grand occasions, and valued at upwards of one hundred thousand +livres, with his arms and device, in the form of medallions, crowning +the larger and more brilliant flowers of which the rich and elaborate +design was composed.[196] The handsome Salle de l’Œil-de-Bœuf, which +takes its name from the two bull’s-eye windows level with the ceiling, +was thronged, according to custom, with noblemen of every degree of rank, +grand court ladies, great officers of State, soldiers and dignitaries +of the Church, all watching for the doors communicating with the royal +apartments to be thrown open, and for the king and queen to make their +appearance. As it was in the days of the Grand Monarque—as it was in +Louis XVI.’s time—as it was on that eventful morning of October 7, 1789, +when the château was stormed and the terror-stricken Marie-Antoinette +fled across it for life, when the loud cry arose of “Save the queen”—so +the Salle de l’Œil-de-Bœuf is now. Round the ceiling, from which hang +suspended three magnificent chandeliers of rock-crystal, runs a handsome +deep-gilt frieze of cupids, some with hunting-horns, and dogs engaged in +the chase; others either reaping or binding sheaves of corn, or snaring +birds or playing at see-saw. At the sides of the doorway leading into +the grand looking-glass gallery, where those not having the _entrée_ of +the Œil-de-Bœuf were accustomed to congregate to see the royal procession +pass, are two equestrian portraits, the one of Louis XIV. in the costume +of a Roman warrior, wearing, however, his customary full-bottomed wig, +with Fame crowning him with a wreath of laurel; the other of the king’s +brother, the Duke d’Orléans. Facing the same doorway is an elaborate +mythological picture representing the Grand Monarque surrounded by his +family, all being robed in exceedingly scanty draperies, the wigs of +the men forming their principal article of attire, and all having that +unpleasant leer in the eyes which the painters of the seventeenth century +seemed to have considered peculiarly bewitching, if not quite becoming. + +Suddenly the doors are flung open, but, instead of the tall _suisse_ +shouting out the customary announcement, “_Messieurs, le Roi!_” the +Cardinal Prince de Rohan is summoned to attend the king in his private +cabinet. + +On proceeding thither, the grand almoner found the king and queen +together. Louis XVI., without any preliminary observations, thus abruptly +addressed him: + +“I hear you have purchased some diamonds of Böhmer?” + +“Yes, sire,” replied the cardinal. + +“Pray, what have you done with them?” inquired the king. + +“I thought they had been delivered to her majesty.” + +“Who commissioned you to make the purchase?” + +“A lady called the Countess de la Motte-Valois, who handed me a letter +from the queen, and I thought I was performing my duty to her majesty +when I undertook this negotiation.” + +“How, sir,” exclaimed the queen, “could you believe that I should select +you, to whom I have not spoken these eight years, to negotiate anything +for me, and especially through the mediation of such a woman—a woman, +too, whom I do not even know?” + +“I see plainly that I have been cruelly duped,” replied the grand +almoner, darting upon the queen as he said so a look of indignation and +disdain.[197] “I will pay for the Necklace: my desire to be of service +to your majesty blinded me. I suspected no trick in the affair, and I am +sorry for it.” + +The cardinal then took from his pocket-book a letter purporting to be +written by the queen to Madame de la Motte, and intrusting her with the +commission. This letter he handed to the king, who after looking at +it held it towards the cardinal, saying: “This is neither written nor +signed by the queen. How could a prince of the house of Rohan, and a +grand almoner of France, ever think that the queen would sign herself +_Marie-Antoinette de France_? Everybody knows that queens sign their +baptismal names only.” + +Louis XVI. then produced the copy of a letter sent by the cardinal to +Böhmer, and inquired whether he had ever written such a letter. After +glancing over it, the grand almoner replied that he had no recollection +of having done so; but when the king asked him what he would say if the +original letter, signed by himself, were shown to him, the cardinal could +not but confess that the letter was genuine. + +“‘If this be the case,’ observed the king, ‘explain to me the whole +of this enigma. I do not wish to believe you guilty; I had rather you +would justify your conduct. Account, therefore, for these manœuvres with +Böhmer, these securities, and these notes.’ + +“In reply to the king’s remarks, the grand almoner, who was extremely +confused, kept continually repeating: ‘I have been deceived, sire. I will +pay for the Necklace. I ask pardon of your majesties.’ Then turning pale, +and leaning against the table, he said: ‘Sire, I am too much agitated to +answer your majesty in a way——’ + +“‘Compose yourself,’ interposed the king, ‘and retire into the adjoining +closet. You will there find pens, ink, and paper; write down what you +have to say to me.’ + +“The grand almoner retired as directed, and returned in about a quarter +of an hour with a written statement of a somewhat incoherent character. +After receiving it, Louis XVI. commanded him to withdraw.”[198] + +De Besenval says that at this moment the king warned the cardinal he was +about to be arrested. “Oh, sire!” exclaimed the prince, “I shall always +obey the orders of your majesty, but deign to spare me the shame of being +arrested in my pontifical habit before the eyes of the entire court.” +“It is necessary it should be so,” replied the king. The cardinal wished +to insist, but the king abruptly quitted him.[199] On leaving the royal +cabinet the grand almoner encountered his deadly enemy, the Baron de +Breteuil, who had been lying in wait for him, and who at once called out +to a sub-lieutenant of his majesty’s body-guard, “In the king’s name, +follow me! Arrest the Cardinal de Rohan!” The officer proceeded to take +charge of his prisoner, who, precipitated as it were in a moment from his +high pinnacle of fortune, was conducted on foot in his rich pontifical +vestments, guarded on all sides, and pressed upon by an amazed crowd of +court idlers and hangers-on, to his hôtel looking upon the north wing of +the château. The distance he had to go was not great, through the long +looking-glass gallery—every eye in the immense throng with which it was +lined being turned inquisitively upon him—through a few apartments and +down the marble staircase, and across the marble court and the broad +“Cour Royale,” with the noonday sun shedding its burning rays upon his +head, and gilding as it were his gorgeous vestments; past the gaudy, +gilded, and over-decorated chapel in which he, Grand Almoner of France, +was never more to officiate with a king and queen and a brilliant court +appearing to give ear to his ministrations; thence through the iron +gate leading into the Rue des Réservoirs, where the Hôtel de Rohan—a +singularly plain-looking building, with rather a pretty garden approached +from a balustraded terrace in the rear, and easily identified at the +present day from the circumstance of its being the residence of the +receiver-general of the district—was situated.[200] So soon as the +necessary preparations could be made, the cardinal, guarded like a +common criminal, was whisked off to Paris to the Hôtel de Strasbourg, +from whence he was speedily transferred to the Bastille. + +Ere, however, he quitted the palace of Versailles, “notwithstanding the +escort that surrounded him, and favoured by the attendant crowd, the +grand almoner stopped for a few moments, and stooping down with his face +towards the wall, as if to fasten his buckle or his garter, snatched out +his pencil and hastily wrote a few words on a scrap of paper placed under +his hand in his square red cap. He rose again and proceeded. On entering +his hôtel he contrived to slip this paper unperceived into the hand of a +confidential ‘heyduc’ who waited for him at the door of his apartment.” +The heyduc posts off to Paris, and arrives at the Palais-Cardinal early +in the afternoon. His horse falls dead in the stable, and he himself +swoons in the apartment of the Abbé Georgel after exclaiming wildly, +“All is lost; the prince is arrested.” The slip of paper which drops +from his hand is caught up and read with eagerness by the abbé, and in +accordance with the instructions contained in it, the scarlet portfolio +which held all the cardinal’s secret correspondence, including the +letters—gilt-edged or bordered with _vignettes bleues_—penned by the +phantom queen, and on which the Prince de Rohan set such store, is +forthwith committed to the flames.[201] + +While the foregoing events were transpiring the Count and Countess +de la Motte were receiving and returning visits in tranquil security +at Bar-sur-Aube. It was two days after the arrest of the cardinal +that the countess set out on her visit to the Duke de Penthièvre at +Château-Villain, and Beugnot was awaiting her arrival at Clairvaux in +the evening. The abbot had pressed the young lawyer to pass three days +there if the ensuing fête of Saint-Bernard would not frighten him, and +had promised him as a reward that he should hear the famous Abbé Maury +from Paris preach the saint’s panegyric. “I agreed,” says Beugnot, “with +all my heart. The day of Saint-Bernard was a grand affair at Clairvaux. +The poor who presented themselves at the door of the abbey received +charity, and the _bourgeoisie_ of Bar-sur-Aube and its environs were +entertained at dinner in the refectory, at which the abbot presided. I +desired to be present at this banquet to laugh at the abbot, who had +spoken to me of this old custom as a piece of tomfoolery he was about to +suppress, and had mentioned with contempt the guests who would be present +at it. + +“The Abbot of Clairvaux was above the middle height, and of a fine and +graceful figure. When after his election he had the honour of being +presented to the king at Versailles, the queen, struck with his handsome +person and the dignity with which he wore the costume of his order, could +not refrain exclaiming, ‘What a handsome monk!’ Dom Rocourt was polite +with men and gallant with women, and with all this, or in spite of it, +very stupid. I was never able,” says Beugnot, “to make him comprehend +when the Revolution arrived that the age had done with him, his abbey, +and his monks, who would have been only too happy to abandon him.”[202] +The Abbey of Clairvaux, founded in the year 1114, was one of the richest +and most magnificent abbeys in France. Its annual revenue was between +three and four hundred thousand francs. Situated in a picturesque glen, +the conventual buildings comprised the abbot’s residence, a handsome +church, said not to have been inferior to Nôtre Dame de Paris, and where +several early French kings and princes lay buried, with a treasury for +its ornaments and relics, an infirmary, a refectory and dormitories: +besides which there were a valuable library and beautiful gardens.[203] +Lastly, one must not forget its gigantic wine-vat, which held upwards of +200,000 gallons. To-day the abbey is a house of detention for criminals; +the site of its magnificent church—demolished during the first year of +the Restoration—being now a prison-yard. The abbot usually drove out +with four horses to his carriage, and had an outrider to precede him. He +caused himself to be addressed as “my lord” by his monks and dependents, +and by the many persons who had need of his assistance. He governed +despotically numerous convents of monks and nuns that were dependent on +his abbey, and it is said that he took especial pleasure in visiting the +nunneries subject to his sway.[204] + +We left Beugnot at Clairvaux waiting Madame de la Motte’s return. Soon +after eight o’clock she made her appearance, when he at once acquainted +her with the engagement he had entered into. She wished to share it and +remain for the fête of Saint-Bernard, but the abbot excused himself, +explaining to her that the fête was altogether a religious one, and that +the ladies who commonly inhabited Clairvaux fled from it on that day, +abandoning it to the religious of Saint-Bernard and to their children. +They returned, however, on the following day, and the abbot, who was lost +in reverence and adoration of Madame de la Motte, pressed her to augment +their number. He was no doubt aware of the intimate connection which +existed between the countess and the Cardinal de Rohan, and he treated +her accordingly like a princess of the church. + +A large company was assembled at the abbey on this particular evening +in anticipation of meeting the Abbé Maury, whose arrival from Paris +was now momentarily expected. The clock having struck nine without the +looked-for guest making his appearance, the company sat down to the +supper-table. Scarcely had they taken their seats, however, before +the sound of carriage-wheels announced some new arrival. This proved +to be the Abbé Maury, with “his Jesuitic eyes, his impassive brazen +face, image of all the cardinal sins,” who, after being welcomed by his +brother ecclesiastic, and introduced to the guests in the supper-room, +without being allowed time to change his travelling-dress, took his seat +at table, when, as a matter of course, he was at once assailed by the +inquiry as to whether there was anything stirring in Paris—in fact, any +news. + +“‘What mean you?—any news?’ replied the Abbé Maury; ‘why, where do you +all come from? There is a piece of news which none can understand, +which has astonished and bewildered all Paris. The Cardinal de Rohan, +Grand Almoner of France, was arrested last Tuesday, the festival of the +Assumption, in his pontifical vestments, as he was leaving the king’s +cabinet. They talk of a Diamond Necklace which he was to have bought for +the queen, but which he did not buy at all. Is it not inconceivable that +for such a bauble as this a grand almoner of France should have been +arrested in his pontifical vestments—do you understand, in his pontifical +vestments?—and on leaving the king’s cabinet?’ + +“As soon as this intelligence reached my ear,” says Count Beugnot, whose +narrative we are quoting, “I glanced at Madame de la Motte, whose napkin +had fallen from her hand, and whose pale and rigid face seemed as it +were immovably fixed above her plate. After the first shock was over she +made an effort and rushed out of the room, followed by one of the chief +attendants. In the course of a few minutes I left the table and joined +her. The horses were already put to her carriage, so we at once set +forth.” + +“‘I have perhaps done wrong in leaving so suddenly, above all in the +presence of the Abbé Maury,’ remarked Madame de la Motte. ‘Not at all,’ +replied I; ‘your relations with the cardinal are known, and almost +avowed. He may have to forfeit his life perhaps; your plan is to run away +in advance of couriers, letters, or news. You would have done wrong in +losing time by supping at Clairvaux—but can you explain this arrest to +yourself?’ ‘No,—at least only through some trick of Cagliostro’s: the +cardinal is infatuated with him: it is not my fault, I have warned him a +hundred times.’ ‘So much the better,’ remarked I; ‘but what is this story +about a Necklace which the cardinal has been buying for the queen? How +is it that a cardinal is charged with such a purchase? and how comes it +about that the queen should choose for such a commission Prince Louis, +whom she openly detests?’ ‘I repeat to you, it is all Cagliostro.’ ‘But +you have received this charlatan at your house. Are you not compromised +in any way with him?’ ‘Absolutely not in the least, and I am perfectly +tranquil; I did very wrong to leave the supper-table.’ ‘It was not wrong. +If you are tranquil on your own account, you ought not to be so on +account of an unfortunate friend.’ ‘Ah! bah! you do not know him; only +see him in a difficulty; he is capable of abusing a hundred persons, of +saying a hundred foolish things to get himself out of it.’ ‘Madame de +la Motte,’ replied I, ‘you have just said more than I wished to hear; I +have a last service to propose to you; it is now ten o’clock at night, +we are approaching Bayet. I am going to leave you there in care of a +friend for whom you know I can answer. I will return with your carriage +to Bar-sur-Aube, and will warn M. de la Motte, who in an hour’s time can +come and fetch you in a post-chaise drawn by your best pair of horses. +He will take charge of your most valuable effects, and you will together +take, this very night, the road to Châlons, since that to Troyes would +not be safe for you. Do not go to Boulogne, Calais, or Dieppe, at which +places instructions perhaps have been already given to stop you; between +these ports there are twenty places where for ten louis they will land +you in England.’ ‘Sir,’ replied Madame de la Motte, ‘you are wearying +me; I have allowed you to go on to the end because I was thinking of +something else. Is it necessary to repeat to you ten times running that +I have nothing to do with this affair? I repeat it, I am very sorry at +having left the table, as though I were an accomplice in your cardinal’s +fooleries.’ ‘Madame,’ observed I, ‘let us say no more on the subject. +Still I should like to add once more—after your avowal—that you will +repent not having followed my advice. May Heaven grant in this case that +your repentance may not be more poignant than usual.’ + +“We drove along in silence for half a hour. As we entered the town I +entreated her to at least burn any papers which might compromise her or +the cardinal. ‘It is,’ said I, ‘a measure dictated by honour on the one +side and by prudence on the other.’ She consented; I offered to assist +her, and as she did not refuse, on leaving the carriage I accompanied +her to her room. Her husband, who had left home early in the morning +to join a hunting party, had not yet returned. We opened a large chest +of sandal-wood filled with papers of all colours and dimensions. Being +nervously anxious to make quick work of the matter, I inquired if +there were amongst them any bills of exchange, bonds, bank-notes, or +drafts, and on receiving an answer in the negative I proposed to throw +the entire heap into the fire. She insisted on at least a cursory +examination being made of them. We proceeded with it, very slowly on her +part, very precipitately on mine. It was whilst casting furtive glances +upon some of the hundreds of letters from the Cardinal de Rohan, that I +saw with pity the ravages which the delirium of love, aided by that of +ambition, had wrought in the mind of this unhappy man. It is fortunate +for the cardinal’s memory that these letters were destroyed, but it is +a loss for the history of human passions. What must have been the state +of society when a prince of the church did not hesitate to write, to +sign, and to address to a woman letters which in our days a man who +respects himself the least in the world might commence reading, but would +certainly never finish? + +“Among these motley papers there were invoices, offers of estates for +sale, prospectuses and advertisements of new inventions, &c. Some of the +letters were from Böhmer and Bassenge, and made mention of the Necklace, +spoke of terms expired, acknowledged the receipt of certain sums, and +asked for larger ones. I consulted Madame de la Motte as to what should +be done with them. Finding her hesitate, I took the shortest course, +and threw them all into the fire. The affair occupied a considerable +time. When it was over I took my leave of Madame de la Motte, urging her +more strongly than ever to depart. She only answered me by promising to +go to bed immediately. I then quitted her apartments, the atmosphere +of which was poisoned by the odour arising from burning paper and wax +impregnated with twenty different perfumes. It was three o’clock in the +morning; at four o’clock she was arrested, and at half-past four was on +her way to the Bastille. The examination which I had made of her papers, +although a superficial one, had settled my doubts. I had observed so much +extravagance in the letters of the cardinal, that I believed both he and +the countess lost, and the one through the other.”[205] + +The countess was sound asleep when the officers of justice arrived. An +inspector of police drew aside the bed curtains, and arousing her, showed +her the _lettre-de-cachet_ for her arrest.[206] From this moment until +her departure from Bar-sur-Aube the countess was closely guarded by +_exempts_ and cavalry of the marshalsea, while other _exempts_ compelled +her husband, who had returned home in the meantime, to accompany them +while they made a strict search throughout the house.[207] + +“M. de la Motte,” observes Beugnot, “was very little affected at the +arrest of his wife. He had been hunting the day before, and contemplated +devoting several more days to this amusement. He called on me at six +o’clock in the morning, and told me in a quiet, confidential sort of +way, of the countess’s arrest. He assumed a calmness in my presence that +surprised me. ‘Madame,’ said he, ‘will only be away for three or four +days at the utmost. She is going to give the minister some explanations +which he requires of her. I reckon that she will return on Wednesday or +Thursday, when we will go and meet her, and bring her home in triumph.’ +‘Sir,’ I replied to him, ‘you are I dare say unaware that last night +I advised your wife to start at once for England, and by the quickest +route. Had she followed my counsel, she would not be as she now is, +on the high road to Bastille. I now advise you to follow the course I +suggested to her, which will be much safer for you than losing precious +time and deceiving yourself by vain illusions.’ The count shrugged his +shoulders and left me, humming a tune. On the same day he took his place +in the diligence, and gained England without delay. It was on the 18th +of August that he left. Four days afterwards the police came to arrest +him,”[208] but found their bird had flown. + +Neither the forger Villette nor the counterfeit queen D’Oliva were +objects of suspicion even until several weeks had elapsed; but eight +days after the arrest of the cardinal, the Count de Cagliostro and his +wife were arrested and sent to join the grand almoner and the Countess +de la Motte in the Bastille. In a memorial prepared by Cagliostro, +wherein he puts forward a claim for damages on account of the losses +sustained by him in consequence of this arrest, he says: “On August 23, +1785, the Commissary Chénon came to my house, attended by a bailiff and +eight police-officers. He told me that he had orders to escort me to the +lieutenant of police. He asked me for my keys, and obliged me to open +my escritoire, which contained various medicines, amongst others six +bottles of precious balsam. The bailiff in my presence seized upon the +articles he chose to take, and particularly four bottles of the balsam. +The _sbirri_ that accompanied him followed their chief’s example, and the +pillage began.” + +The count then proceeds to estimate the amount of this pillage item by +item, and ends by bringing it up to the considerable sum of 100,000 +livres (£4000 sterling). Amongst these items he cites a green pocket-book +containing forty-seven bank notes of 1000 livres each, besides which +he asserts there were gold and silver coin—double-louis, sequins, and +Spanish quadruples—plate, jewels, diamonds, &c., taken away.[209] + +The cardinal’s equerry and particular confidant, the Baron de Planta—a +man of shady character, who had held a commission in a Swiss regiment in +France, had been broke for some misconduct, and had been for years under +a cloud at the time he was picked up by the Prince de Rohan during his +Vienna embassy—was likewise arrested, but had the luck to get released +after undergoing a brief examination.[210] + + + + +XXIV. + +1785. AUG. 19–SEPT. 13. + +A DREARY DAY AND NIGHT’S DRIVE.—THE BASTILLE.—A “VALOIS” SERVED OFF +PEWTER. + + +As we have already mentioned, the Cardinal de Rohan immediately after +his arrest was conducted, closely guarded, to his hotel at Versailles. +In the afternoon of the same day he was removed to Paris, to the +Palais-Cardinal, where he remained during the night; the officer +commanding the escort of royal body-guards, having been solemnly +cautioned to that effect, slept in the same apartment as his prisoner, +whom he never trusted out of his sight for a single instant. + +The day following the Marquis de Launay, governor of the Bastille, came +to receive the grand almoner into his custody, and to transfer him to +the iron grip of that mysterious state prison which rarely rendered up +its victims until they were snatched away by the icy hand of Death. The +cardinal wished to go thither on foot under cover of the night, so as to +be free from observation. This favour was granted him, and, what is far +more remarkable, he was allowed to take with him a couple of _valets de +chambre_ and a secretary, and was informed that he would be permitted to +see his friends at stated times in the hall of this gloomy fortress.[211] +At a later period of his confinement, he was allowed to drive of an +evening along the Boulevards in the Governor’s carriage, strictly guarded +of course, and to give grand dinners in his rooms.[212] + +The Countess de la Motte was arrested, it will be remembered, at four +o’clock on the morning of the 18th of August, and was at once hurried off +to Paris, distant about one hundred and forty miles from Bar-sur-Aube, +“entirely ignorant,” she remarks, “whither I was intended to be conveyed, +and so little anticipating the event that I was dozing in the carriage. +In the course of our journey the vehicle was stopped, and questions asked +by some person without, to whom the person within said: ‘Don’t you know +this carriage?’ ‘Oh, yes,’ replied the other. ‘Don’t stop us then; we +have nothing but a state prisoner;’ upon which the vehicle proceeded. +Hearing this conversation I awoke; the termination of it roused all my +faculties. ‘What do you say?’ exclaimed I in a tone of extreme agitation. +‘A state prisoner! alas! then am I a state prisoner?’ ‘Oh, no, madame, +no such thing;’ and these people swore that I was not one. But there +is some excuse for them; they belonged to the police, and perjury and +bearing false witness is no small part of their employment. Yet they used +such kind expressions that, knowing my innocence, I flattered myself I +was not deceived. One of them said to me: ‘Madame, it is so very early, +I’m afraid we shall not be able to get an interview with the Baron de +Breteuil, who has given me orders if we arrived too early to conduct you +to my house, and to wait upon him about eleven; therefore be composed +and try to sleep a little.’ All this time I remained upon my seat; but +soon after, they desired me to conceal myself in the bottom of the +vehicle; this was when we arrived at the Porte St.-Antoine, where they +endeavoured as much as possible to place themselves in such positions +before me that I might neither be seen by any one nor observe the turning +of the Bastille. Finding myself rather warm, ‘Let me see,’ said I; and +looking out I discovered the Bastille. ‘How!’ exclaimed I, with agitated +surprise; ‘is it to the Bastille then that I am going? Oh! you are all +impostors!’ They endeavoured to pacify me, and begged me not to make a +disturbance; told me that they were not their own masters; that they +had received their orders, but that they were absolutely ignorant of +the motive for which I was taken to the Bastille, and that they were +persuaded in a very few days I should be liberated. + +“By this time we arrived at the first bridge leading to the governor’s +house. The postillion knocked, and many _invalides_ came out. The +post-chaise belonging to the police drove up to the governor’s door, who +came out himself in a _robe de chambre_ to the carriage to give me his +hand, begging me at the same time to excuse his _déshabille_. He then +conducted me into a large hall. Soon afterwards, the king’s lieutenant +arrived with a large book, wherein he entered the date of my arrival, +and afterwards presented it to me to sign my name, which request I +complied with. During this ceremony, which only occupied a few minutes, +the governor was in the court with the _exempts_, who were giving him an +account of every circumstance which occurred in the execution of their +orders. This over, the governor returned, and asked me if I would take +any refreshment, adding: ‘We shall take great care of you, madame.’ I +then asked him into which apartment I should go to receive the Baron +de Breteuil, remarking at the same time that I hoped he would come at +eleven, as the _exempts_ had informed me. ‘Oh, there is not the least +doubt of it, madame,’ replied the governor. He then called Saint-Jean, +the turnkey, to whom he gave my papers, to place them, as I have since +heard, in the archives; after which the governor desired the king’s +lieutenant to conduct me to my apartment. Some little conversation passed +relative to the place of my destination, of which the lieutenant seemed +uncertain. ‘Oh,’ said the governor, ‘_La Comtée_ is the best; it is +very light.’ He then put me in charge of the king’s lieutenant, whose +arm I took, persuaded that I should be shown into some other apartment, +and for a far different purpose. As I went along I saw some soldiers +(_invalides_) enveloped in blue cloaks, with large hoods over their +heads, and long bands hanging down. As I passed them I was not a little +surprised to see them turn their backs towards me, it being the rule +when any prisoner arrives for them to turn themselves round lest they +should take too much notice. I began to laugh with the lieutenant at the +novelty of this, and particularly at these grotesque figures in their +masquerade.... + +“We passed on till we arrived at the court, the staircase of which led +to the tower of _La Comtée_. After ascending this we arrived at the +apartment destined for my reception, all the gates of which were very +large, and moreover open. St. Jean, who was to be my turnkey, attended me +thither. + +“Struck with such a dismal change of situation, so very different from +what I had ever been accustomed to, I could not help expressing my +dissatisfaction to the lieutenant. ‘If this is the place,’ said I, ‘which +the governor pleases to call my apartment, be sure I am greatly obliged +to him.’ I then went to look at the bed, which was indeed a wretched one; +told him that it would be impossible for me to sleep in so miserable a +bed as that, and demanded if he could not accommodate me with one as good +as the cardinal’s? He replied, very politely, that he really did not +comprehend my meaning.... + +“My disapprobation of the bed, however, was attended with favourable +results, for the turnkey substituted for the one which I had great +reason to complain of an excellent feather bed with fine sheets and +curtains. Thus accommodated, and extremely fatigued, I attempted to get +some rest; but I was scarce in bed when the lieutenant, with my own and +another turnkey, arrived. The two turnkeys examined my clothes and my +pockets, out of which they took all the contents, consisting of several +little articles, particularly a gold _étui_ set with pearls, another of +tortoiseshell, a small ivory box ornamented with gold, having on its lid +a miniature with a gold rim, containing a small mirror and some rouge, an +English pocket-knife, a knife with a tortoiseshell handle and gold blade, +my purse, containing eighteen louis and about nineteen livres, and a gold +repeating watch with a diamond chain. + +“Indignant at such humiliating treatment, which I could not patiently +endure, I remonstrated with some asperity, and threatened to inform the +Baron de Breteuil, whom I was simple enough to believe I should see. +They were, however, regardless of my threats, and having executed their +orders, departed through those dreadful doors which with their horrid +bolts were closed upon me, and the sound pierced my very soul.... + +“About eight o’clock the turnkey came to my door. I spoke to him, but he +paid no attention to me, and departed without saying a word. I rose to +examine my dismal habitation, and traversed the room in every direction +backwards and forwards. I opened the window to see if I could discover +anybody, or make myself sufficiently conspicuous for any one to see +me. I climbed upon the sill, and held my face close to the bars, but I +could discover nothing; as for people, it was impossible to distinguish +them.”[213] + +At noon the lieutenant of the Bastille came to fetch the countess to +an interview, as she asserts she thought, with the Baron de Breteuil, +instead of which she was conducted into the presence of the lieutenant of +police and the Commissary Chénon, who commenced examining her respecting +the Diamond Necklace, and ended by accusing her of having first obtained +possession of, and afterwards absconding to a foreign country with +the missing jewel. Madame de la Motte, perfectly unabashed, says that +she laughed outright in the commissary’s face at what she styles the +“ridiculous absurdity” of such an accusation. Her examination was +continued day by day, and when completed, the commissary, as the countess +artfully states, “gabbled over something which she scarce understood,” +but which she nevertheless signed. “It was this cunning dissembler,” +she remarks, “who made me sign those odious things which I was supposed +to have said myself, and which were so detestable that when they were +read by his majesty he spat upon them, saying, ‘Fie upon the filthy +creature!’”[214] + +The countess, who in early life was glad to feed upon broken victuals +passed through a trap-hole in the miserable hovel that sheltered the +Saint-Remi family at Fontette, appears not to have entirely approved +of the _cuisine_ of the Bastille. What more particularly annoyed her, +however, was that she, who had been latterly accustomed to gold and +silver plate, should now be expected to dine off vulgar pewter. According +to her own account, she preferred enduring the pangs of hunger to +submitting to such an indignity, and sent the dishes away untouched. The +turnkey, she tells us, somewhat surprised at this proceeding, “said in a +rude manner, ‘So then you don’t choose to eat, don’t you?’ ‘No,’ replied +I, ‘I don’t choose to eat, and I desire to know if you serve the cardinal +off pewter? Inform the governor that the Valois are quite as nice as and +entitled to equal respect with the Rohans.’ The turnkey was astounded. He +looked at me respectfully, and mildly answered that he was ignorant who I +was; then begging my pardon he departed, and returned shortly afterwards +with a better dinner served in beautiful dishes with silver covers.”[215] + +Poor Madame de la Tour, Count de la Motte’s sister, having applied +to the Marquis de Launay for permission to visit the countess in the +Bastille, was arrested by two _exempts_ on leaving the governor’s house, +and forthwith conducted to a cell in the gloomy old fortress, where she +was kept confined for a period of six months, in spite of the efforts of +her husband and family to procure her release. This was paying rather +a heavy penalty for her feelings of sympathy towards an incriminated +sister-in-law. + +Before the countess had been immured in the Bastille a fortnight, we find +her attempting a rambling exculpation of herself in a document which +bears no address, but was no doubt intended to produce an impression +on the Baron de Breteuil, and which she describes as “Explanatory +reflections on the accusations made by Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohan.” + + “Does Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohan believe me ass enough + not to have disappeared immediately if I had desired to retain + the Necklace under some pretext, as he accuses me of doing? + + “Does Monseigneur le Cardinal believe that I caused the + Necklace to be sold here under the eyes both of the vendor + and of himself, and that I should have been able, had I been + guilty, to have so far deluded them as to remain at Paris so + tranquilly as I did, knowing all the while the date of payment? + Should I not rather have taken a safe departure before the + moment of payment arrived? Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohan + was at Saverne for six weeks. Could not I have profited by his + absence to join my husband in England, with my whole household + and have remained there? + + “Instead of which my husband was there by his orders, and + returned as agreed upon with Monseigneur le Cardinal. Would + it have been possible, with me living almost at his door, for + him not to have given me something during four years, or at + least to have taken care of me and mine, since all I had was + my pension of 800 livres? The expenses of my house were always + heavy enough to make it requisite for the cardinal to give me + large sums to keep it up; and at this time I solicited more + than ever both at Versailles and at Paris. Every day I required + _voitures de remise_, which were very dear; I had, too, a house + at Versailles to reside in when there. How, moreover, let me + ask, should I have done the bidding of a sovereign without + anticipating great returns from it, since sooner or later this + intimacy would certainly have been discovered? How could I + have exercised so little precaution, I say, as to remain in + Paris, where, if guilty, I should have taken the utmost care + on the contrary to appear more at my ease than under ordinary + circumstances, fearful of being suspected by Monseigneur + le Cardinal, whose people, and especially M. le Baron de + Planta (whom he also brought as a witness against me), came + continually to my house? + + “Will Monseigneur le Cardinal dare to deny all the facts which + I have advanced in my examination, and which will at least + convince him that I have been forced to this, and that it has + only been in self-defence? But he accuses me wrongfully. I must + tell the truth to prove my innocence, and to prove that he was + not in a position to use me as a servant, as Monseigneur le + Cardinal pretends, in an affair of such importance, since it + concerned the person of the queen. Moreover I do not know any + one who is attached to her. + + “I have the honour to be, with submission, + + “COMTESSE DE VALOIS DE LA MOTTE DE LA PÉNICIÈRE. + + “At the Bastille this Monday, 29th August, 1785.”[216] + +Another letter is extant, bearing date Sept. 13, 1785, evidently written +by the countess during her confinement in the Bastille, though it has no +signature to it, and which, couched in terms of extreme familiarity, is +addressed to the Duke de Guines, a very grand gentleman of the court, +and, what is more, one of the queen’s most intimate friends. In this +letter, in the midst of the most absurd and nonsensical details, the +countess introduces the names of her sister and of Cagliostro and his +wife, on the two last of whom she seeks to turn the accusation directed +against herself.[217] The duke, who pretended not to understand the drift +of the letter, sent it to the Baron de Breteuil. + + + + +XXV. + +EFFECT PRODUCED ON THE PUBLIC MIND BY THESE ARRESTS.—THE ENEMIES OF THE +QUEEN. + + +It is impossible to conceive the sensation produced throughout France, +and indeed throughout Europe generally, by these arrests and the +extravagant rumours to which they gave rise. Marie-Antoinette in various +ways had unfortunately made numerous enemies—through her persistent +efforts, for instance, to get the Duke de Choiseul appointed prime +minister; through her too decided partiality for particular favourites, +for whom she secured both places and pensions; and through what was +affectedly styled her want of prudence—in other words, her open disregard +of the rigid formalities of French court etiquette. Arrayed against her +were many of the oldest families in France, each of whom cherished some +particular grievance of its own. The consequence was, there were many +hostile interests at work intent upon destroying her reputation and +bringing about her ruin if need be, even at the expense of the monarchy +itself, so that the great fraud of the Diamond Necklace was altogether +regarded in the light of a political event, and no time was lost by the +different inimical factions in twisting it to serve their own purposes, +without the slightest regard being paid by any one of them to the real +character of the act itself. + +We will here interrupt the course of our narrative to examine at some +length into the origin of this widespread animosity against the queen, +and to trace the causes of its rapid extensions through all classes of +French society. To do this it will be necessary for us to go back to the +very outset of her career. + +When Marie-Antoinette, then a young girl of fifteen, first set foot +on French soil, nothing could exceed the enthusiasm with which she +was welcomed. Her progress from Strasbourg to Versailles was one long +ovation. At Versailles, save the dauphin’s old maiden aunts, who +made themselves sufficiently disagreeable, and the king’s mistress, +Madame Dubarry, who could not tolerate this fair and pure young spirit, +every one was more or less charmed with her. The old king, worn out by +excesses, and weary of the deceptive flattery which he daily had to +listen to, was captivated, not merely by her personal graces, but by her +frank and lively nature, her open unaffected ways. The women may have +secretly envied her, but the men could not help adoring her. She far +excelled the young female members of the royal family in beauty. At the +time of her marriage her form was not fully developed: her stature was +short, and her figure altogether small, though perfectly proportioned; +her arm was finely rounded and of a dazzling whiteness, her hand plump, +her fingers tapering, her nails transparent and rose-coloured, her foot +charming. When she grew taller and stouter the foot and hand remained +perfect, her figure only became a little inelegant, and her chest a +trifle too broad. Her face formed a rather long oval; her complexion, +which was really dazzling, displayed the most tender shades of colour, +from pearly white to delicate rose tint; her eyes were blue, soft, and +animated, and shaded by long, full lashes; her nose was aquiline, and +slightly tapered at the end; her mouth was small and delicate and well +arched, her lower lip prominent, after the Austrian type; her neck was +slender and a trifle long, but well set; her forehead was convex, and +furnished with too little of her beautiful chestnut-colour hair. The +_coiffure_ of the empire would have accomplished marvels for her, for the +hair turned down over her forehead would have given to her face a regular +beauty.[218] + +Though the young dauphiness was addicted to reverie, and displayed a +fondness for retirement in the society of a few chosen friends, she was +far from being of a reserved disposition; indeed, she was a good deal +given to gaiety of that light, playful, almost pert character which +imparts movement and life to all around. She forced every one to laugh +with her. She cared nothing for the restraints imposed by the barriers of +etiquette. If it did not please her to walk in stately fashion, she would +run and skip about, regardless of her train or her ladies of honour. In +winter-time she would scamper over the slippery ground, dragging after +her the youngest lady of her court, whose duty it was to hold up her +train, and delighted while glancing behind at the score of racing trains +which etiquette required should follow in procession. In the old king’s +days she was known to have even laughed out loud in the royal box at +Preville’s funny face, to the great scandal of those who only deigned to +smile.[219] + +At the very first court she held after she became queen, provoked by some +pleasantries on the part of one of her ladies, and the ridiculous figures +cut by certain ancient court dames who had come to pay their respects to +her, she could not refrain from laughing at them behind her fan. This +naturally enough gave great offence to these antiquated dowagers, who +vowed the queen had mocked at them, that she had not a proper respect for +age, and was utterly wanting in propriety. The name of “_moqueuse_” was +given to her in consequence.[220] + +The young queen, with the full sanction of her husband, went early one +morning to see the sun rise from the highest point of Marly gardens—a +harmless enough proceeding, one would think, but which nevertheless gave +rise to most disgraceful calumnies. On another occasion she displayed her +skill as a charioteer, by driving about Marly in a cabriolet, preceded +merely by a single officer of the king’s body-guard. This spectacle +astonished the old courtiers, who had never seen a queen handle the reins +before, and who therefore pronounced the proceeding highly unbecoming, if +not, indeed, improper. At Marly, too, Marie-Antoinette established a kind +of _café_, to which the lords and ladies of the court betook themselves +in their morning gowns. All etiquette was set aside, and people enjoyed +here the same kind of liberty which was ordinarily to be met with in +establishments of this class. Every one had his own little table, at +which he was served with whatever he asked for.[221] + +Marie-Antoinette, who was fond of dancing, organized a series of fancy +dress balls in the _Salle de Comédie_ at Versailles, into the spirit of +which her brothers-in-law and their young wives entered most heartily. +Being herself a good dancer, she was glad to secure good dancers for +these entertainments, but had to undergo no end of reproaches because +she, a young queen of twenty years of age, had appealed to the minister +of war to grant leave of absence to certain officers, favourites at these +fêtes, who had been ordered to rejoin their regiments. Everything she +did was wrong. She was blamed for being present at the summer promenades +on the terrace of the château of Versailles, then open to the general +public, when, attired in a plain white cambric dress and a simple straw +hat, she and Madame Elisabeth, and perhaps her married sisters-in-law, +would mix unobserved among the crowd, or seated on a bench, would listen +to the music performed by the king’s guards; watching and commenting +meanwhile on the secret flirtations which under cover of the night were +carried on on these occasions. + +The foregoing incidents seem to have been harmless enough, but the same +can hardly be said of her excursions to the _bals de l’opéra_, when “lost +in their vortex, she was happy or trembling under her mask,” and whither +she would resort attended merely by a single lady of the court and with +her servants in undress grey liveries. On one of these occasions her +carriage broke down, and she was obliged to have recourse to a public +vehicle. On entering the theatre she is reported to have exclaimed to +her friends, “It is I, come in a _fiacre_! Isn’t it droll?” One can well +conceive an incident like this giving rise to much unpleasant scandal, +and can sympathise in the reproaches which her brother the Emperor Joseph +addressed to her on her frequent presence at these entertainments. + +It was the misfortune of Marie-Antoinette to have made for herself a host +of enemies almost from the very first day she was called upon to share a +throne. Among others, of her brother-in-law, the Count de Provence, who, +attached to her at the outset of her career, took to quizzing her, and +criticising her conduct, and even to caricaturing her, while preserving +an outward appearance of friendship towards her, soon after she became a +queen. The Prince de Condé, allied to the Cardinal de Rohan by marriage, +was embittered against her because she very properly declined to receive +his mistress, Madame de Monaco, at court. A warm friendship had sprung +up between Marie-Antoinette and the young Duke de Chartres, afterwards +Orléans _Égalité_, on her first arrival in France; but after a time, +Louis XVI., who disliked the duke, and made a point of insulting his +friends whenever he got the chance, availed himself of the duke’s known +immorality to forbid the queen associating with him on the same familiar +terms as heretofore. The consequence was, the duke, who was unaware of +the real cause of his disgrace, conceived a strong dislike for the queen, +who on her part retaliated by saying many spiteful things respecting him. +Dislike grew into hatred, and hatred grew bitter and more bitter, until +at last the duke pursued Marie-Antoinette with a relentless vengeance +that was positively diabolic, and which only terminated with her life. +Dissolute, gouty old De Maurepas, prime minister, and all his kin, and +more particularly his nephew, the Duke d’Aiguillon, a former creature +of the Dubarry’s, and now a creature of the Duke d’Orléans, and whose +disgrace at court had been brought about by the queen’s influence, +were arrayed against her on account of the persistent exertions she +made to get her favourite, De Choiseul—whom Catherine of Russia used +to style the coachman of Europe, as when in power he directed all the +cabinets—appointed prime minister in De Maurepas’ stead. M. de Vergennes +too, whose handsome Greek wife the queen would not consent to receive, +cherished a steady hatred of her—all the more dangerous because it was +concealed—and even wrote regular reports respecting her to Louis XVI, +which the king kept secret, and which only came to light on the discovery +of the famous “_armoire de fer_” in the wall of the royal closet in the +Tuileries, a few months before the king’s death. + +At the head of the enemies the queen had succeeded in making among her +own sex were, Mesdames Adelaide and Louise, two of the king’s aunts, +the former of whom had for a while exercised a control over her nephew, +and was now jealous and irritated beyond measure at the influence which +the young queen had acquired over her husband. Since their exile to +Lorraine, however, these old ladies had been comparatively powerless +for mischief. The partiality which Marie-Antoinette displayed for +the society of the Countess Jules de Polignac, had had the effect of +estranging her sisters-in-law from her. Count d’Artois, wishing to bring +about a reconciliation, said one day to the queen, on kissing her +hand, “My little sister, for a very long time you have slighted your +sisters-in-law, who are much attached to you, and who feel much afflicted +at your behaviour. I beg you to bestow on them your warmest friendship, +for they are worthy of it.” The queen replied somewhat petulantly, “These +ladies do not render me the deference which is my due; they ought to +remember that I am queen, and, moreover, that I belong to the House of +Austria, which takes precedence of all.” The Count d’Artois could not +help smiling, and, pressing the queen’s hand, said, “My little sister, +since you jest about the affair, I am enchanted, as it proves to me +that, whatever rancour may exist at present, will not last long.”[222] +The count, however, did not prove himself a true prophet, for the +ladies never became completely reconciled, and showed merely a distant +regard for each other. Perhaps the most dangerous enemy the queen had +was the stiff old Countess de Marsan—herself a Rohan, and cousin of +the cardinal, for whom in past years she had secured the post of grand +almoner—who during the late reign had been governess to the king’s +grandchildren, and who had been from the very first greatly scandalized +at Marie-Antoinette’s freedom of manners: the dauphiness’s most innocent +acts being magnified by this old prude into crimes. If she glanced at any +one, it was set down to coquetry; if she chanced to laugh, it was either +unbecoming, or else her gaiety was all forced; if she wore her hair +loose, she was compared to a bacchante; and even her simple white muslin +dresses were pronounced to be stage costumes, worn solely to create an +effect. The Duchess de Noailles, who had been Marie-Antoinette’s chief +lady of honour from the moment of her arrival in France, and Madame de +Cossé, her lady of the bedchamber, threw up their posts on the Princess +de Lamballe being appointed mistress of the queen’s household, and both +enlisted themselves among the malcontents, which comprised, in addition +to those we have already mentioned, the powerful families of Conti, +Montmorency, Clermont-Tonnerre, La Rochefoucauld, and Crillon. + + + + +XXVI. + +LITTLE TRIANON, AND THE QUEEN’S SOCIETY THERE. + + +The enemies of the queen at the moment the Necklace scandal burst upon +the public were many and formidable; the real friends that she had +capable of defending her were but few. The Baron de Breteuil was well +enough disposed towards her, still it was not so much the shielding of +the queen’s reputation as compassing the downfall of his enemy, the +Cardinal de Rohan, that he had at heart. The Abbé de Vermond, who had +been Marie-Antoinette’s instructor, and was now a sort of secretary to +her, had only his fidelity to recommend him. He could influence the +queen, but wanted the head to direct her wisely. Specious M. de Calonne +was too busy raising new loans to supply a continually emptying royal +exchequer to trouble himself about necklaces or cardinals; besides, no +particular friendship existed now between the queen and him. He no longer +gallantly told her that if what she required was simply difficult it +was already done, and that if it was impossible, it should be done. The +Duke de Choiseul had been dead these several months past. Those intimate +friends of Marie-Antoinette’s with whom her daily life was chiefly spent, +and who formed what was styled her society, shared her unpopularity +to some extent, for it was the favours heaped upon certain members of +the Trianon set which had estranged so many of the old nobility from +her. Moreover, with the exception of the Count d’Artois and the Duke de +Coigny, there was not a man of influence among them who could do her real +service in the hour of need. + +The _habitués_ of the Little Trianon—“the queen’s society,” as they were +styled—comprised, first, her youngest brother-in-law, the Count d’Artois, +who danced with her, hunted with her, acted with her, and entered +generally into the spirit of her amusements; then there was his wife, the +countess, exceedingly short of stature, with a complexion as fresh as a +rose, and a prepossessing if not a pretty face, yet with a nose which, +as Marie-Antoinette wickedly remarked, had never been finished; at one +time, too, there were the Count and Countess de Provence, the latter an +elder sister of the Countess d’Artois, and the reverse of good-looking. +Louis XVI. in his blunt way once told his brother that his wife was by no +means handsome, to which the Count de Provence quietly replied, “Sire, +I find her to my taste, and that is quite sufficient.”[223] Then there +was the queen’s sister-in-law, Madame Elisabeth, her true and loving +friend until death; next there were the Polignacs, foremost among whom +was the Countess Jules, the queen’s most particular favourite, who was +very handsome, with expressive blue eyes, a ravishing mouth, beautiful +small white teeth, a nose just a trifle _retroussé_, a forehead perhaps +a little too high, magnificent brown hair, a skin almost as white as +alabaster, low shoulders and a well set neck which seemed to give height +to her small figure. A touching sweetness formed the foundation of her +physiognomy—looks, features, smiles, everything with her partook of +the angelic. She had, moreover, wit and grace, and a natural ease and +_abandon_ which were positively charming. Negligence was her coquetry, +dishabille her full dress. It has been said of her that she never looked +better than when in a loose morning gown, and with a simple rose, +perhaps, in her hair. When the queen first took notice of her, she +and her husband, with their two young children, were living in a very +humble style (we have heard what Madame de la Motte had to say of her +poverty)[224] on a miserable income of three hundred and twenty pounds +a year. A pension of six thousand livres was immediately granted her, +and ere long she was appointed governess of the royal children, with a +salary of fifty thousand livres and her husband named postmaster-general, +and master of the horse to the queen, with a salary of eighty thousand +livres; in addition to which a joint pension of eighty thousand livres +was conferred upon them, besides other considerable emoluments which +brought their income almost up to three hundred thousand livres.[225] +The count, who through the influence of the queen had been raised to +the dignity of a duke, seems to have been an amiable sort of man, +very generally liked, for he had not allowed his good fortune to spoil +him. His sister, the Countess Diane, one of Madame Elisabeth’s ladies +of honour, was given, we are told, to gallantry and intrigue; her son +by the Marquis d’Autichamp—the same wicked rake who was so anxious to +escort Madame de la Motte from Lunéville to Paris—entered the Russian +service, and was killed at the battle of Austerlitz.[226] Her personal +appearance was the very reverse of engaging. She was compared to a brown +owl (she was a southern brunette), with all its feathers in disorder, +and to a paroquet, with a crooked beak and round eyes surrounded by dark +circles.[227] Nevertheless, she had only to open her mouth to have face, +form, toilette, the little she had received from nature, and the little +that she herself did to render herself pretty, entirely forgotten. It +was impossible to know her and not to be prepossessed in her favour. Her +arch way of looking at a subject, her piquant turn of thought, which was +almost epigrammatic, her sudden changes from gaiety to sadness, from +irony to sensibility, her audacity, which nothing could intimidate, her +daring and contagious recklessness, made her a general favourite in the +society over which she to some extent dominated. A woman like her was +invaluable to a court already depressed with melancholy, to put life into +the conversation, to dissipate dull thoughts, to defy alarm, to prophesy +fine weather, and display a perfect disregard for the future. + +The young Princess de Lamballe, one of the earliest friends +Marie-Antoinette made in France, ranked next to the Countess Jules +de Polignac in her favour. She was a trifle jealous at having been +supplanted by her rival, and rather held aloof from the Trianon +_coterie_. Extremely beautiful, as amiable as she was handsome, and +left a widow when she was only eighteen—her husband, son of the old +Duke de Penthièvre, who received Madame de la Motte so courteously at +Château-Villain, having fallen a victim to early debauchery—a peculiar +interest attached to her. A native of the sunny south, she nevertheless +possessed all the northern graces. The sweet serenity of her countenance +was its great charm: there was tranquillity even in the flash of her +eye. On her beautiful forehead, shaded by her long fair hair, not a +cloud, not a trace existed of the early grief she had been called upon +to suffer. Her mind had all the serene beauty of her face. She was +gentle, affectionate, full of caresses, always just, always ready to make +sacrifices, devoted even in trifles, and disinterested above everything. +Who has not felt pity for her subsequent unhappy fate? + +No one occupied a more prominent position in the queen’s society at the +Little Trianon than the Baron de Besenval, a handsome-looking man past +middle age, tall and well proportioned, with sharply-defined profile +and large well-formed nose, quick, intelligent eye, and a small mouth +curled up in a mocking and disdainful pout. Of cultivated tastes, full of +insolent grace, perfectly content with himself and ever ready to laugh +at others, pleasure was the sole pursuit of his life until the death +of Louis XV. brought him into closer contact with the Count d’Artois, +colonel-general of the Swiss guards, in which corps Besenval, himself +a Swiss, held a command. Of the count he made a friend, got presented +through his influence to the queen, whose confidence he secured and +whom he almost directed; was appointed lieutenant-general of the army, +grand cross commander of St.-Louis, and inspector-general of the Swiss +guards, without seeming at all astonished at his good fortune. In the +hour of danger, however, he was found singularly wanting, and it was soon +evident that he was not the man to save the monarchy or stem the tide of +revolution. His conduct while in command of the army of Paris has been +very generally and deservedly condemned. + +M. de Vaudreuil was another prominent member of the Trianon _coterie_, +who, entering early in life the highest and most exclusive society of +Versailles, had come to the conclusion that human nature, as it was to +be found in courts, was neither so very beautiful nor so very great as +was commonly represented. Intellect charmed him, and above all that +intellect which sparkled with wit. He was the friend of all clever men, +spoke but rarely himself, but would lie in wait behind the hubbub of the +talkers and suddenly discharge his arrow right at the mark. What made him +a favourite with the queen was the fact of his being the best private +actor of his day. When young he had been remarkably handsome, but the +small-pox had destroyed his good looks. Suffering from disease of the +lungs, and subject to nervous twitchings of the body and to frequent fits +of depression, he had all the immunities of a sick person accorded him. +The good nature of the Duchess de Polignac and the indulgence of his +friends caused them to tolerate his caprices and whims. His disposition +changed daily according to his bodily ailments; still he was not without +certain vigorous virtues, for he was noble, generous, frank, loyal, and a +devoted and constant friend. + +Next on the list of the queen’s favourites comes M. d’Adhémar, whose +musical skill and admirable voice had procured him the applause of the +master of the king’s music. He wrote verses and songs, acted well, and +accompanied himself on the harpsichord. His was but a little mind; +nevertheless, under a guise of modesty and humility he nourished grand +schemes of ambition, and eventually succeeded in securing for himself the +English embassy, in connection with which we shall hear of him again. +His complaisance was proverbial; he courted every one, offended no one, +made innocent jokes in an undertone of voice, and never lost his temper. +It will be understood what manner of man he was when we remark, that the +women spoke to him when they had nothing to say, the men when they had +nothing to do. Harmless as he appears to have been, he did not escape the +notice of the lampooners of the time, who characterized him as— + + “Un marquis de hasard, ha, ha, ha, ha! + Chevalier d’industrie, + Major d’infanterie, + Colin de comédie, + C’est Monsieur d’Adhémar, a, a, a, a.”[228] + +The remaining _habitués_ of the Little Trianon were the three Coignys: +the Duke de Coigny, the queen’s most constant friend, whom the Trianon +set desired to make her lover, which the Duke d’Orléans maintained +he already was—styling the young dauphin “_Le fils de Coigny_;”[229] +the Count de Coigny, a big, good-tempered man; and the Chevalier de +Coigny, an agreeable flatterer, whom all the women strove to secure to +themselves, and who was a favourite wherever he went; the Duke de Guines, +the “Versailles Journal,” as he was styled, who knew and repeated all the +scandal of the court, ridiculed everybody, and was consequently disliked +by everybody, who was an excellent musician, and prided himself immensely +on having played the flute with the great Frederick; the Prince d’Henin, +a philanthropist at court like a fish out of water; the Bailli du +Crussol, who made jokes with a most serious air; the Count de Polastron, +who played the violin in a ravishing style, and his pale and languishing +wife—the amiable “Goddess of Melancholy,” as she was called; the Count +and Countess de Châlons; the Count and Countess d’Andlau; the sensible, +witty, and good-natured Madame de Coigny; the Duke de Guiche, captain +of the king’s guards, and his young and lovely duchess, daughter of the +Duchess Jules de Polignac.[230] Besides the foregoing, there were a few +distinguished foreigners, such as Prince Esterhazy, the Prince de Ligne, +the Count de Fersen, a prominent member of the Swedish aristocracy, who +was styled by the women the “Beau Fersen,” and who in subsequent years +drove the _berline_ in which the royal family sought to escape from +France, and eventually lost his life in an _émeute_ at Stockholm in the +year 1810; and the Baron de Stedingk, the intimate friend of Fersen and +a great favourite with Marie-Antoinette, who said to him, on parting +with him in 1787: “Remember, M. de Stedingk, that under no circumstances +can any harm happen to you;”[231] implying that her influence, which +she believed to be paramount, would be exercised for his protection in +whatever quarter of the world he might chance to be, and little dreaming +that in a very few years there would not be another woman in all France +so powerless as she. + +Having made acquaintance with the queen’s society at the Trianon, let us +now see what the Trianon itself was like; that Little Trianon to which +Marie-Antoinette retired to escape the splendours, the restraints, the +intrigues, and, most of all, the slanders of the court, and enjoy the +society of friends of her own choosing; a retirement which unhappily gave +rise to new calumnies—calumnies which it does not seem in nature for one +woman to invent or propagate of another, but which Madame de la Motte +more than insinuates in her lying “Mémoires Justificatifs,” and which +have outlived the other hideous slanders of which Marie-Antoinette was +the victim; that Little Trianon, where Madame de la Motte asserts most +of her pretended interviews with the queen took place, and where she +affirms Marie-Antoinette was accustomed to receive the Cardinal de Rohan, +who, according to the countess’s statements, would come late at night +disguised as a valet, and spend hour after hour with the queen in a small +pavilion in the gardens while she remained outside on the watch.[232] +On one occasion the Cardinal de Rohan certainly did go to the Little +Trianon, and in a partial disguise, but it was by bribing the gatekeeper +that he gained admission to the grounds. It was at the time when both +building and gardens were brilliantly illuminated in honour of the visit +of the Grand Duke Paul of Russia—afterwards the mad and luckless Emperor +Paul—and his Grand Duchess, who were travelling about Europe under the +titles of Count and Countess du Nord. The cardinal, who professed great +anxiety to see these illuminations, promised the gatekeeper to remain +in his lodge until all the company had left for Versailles; instead of +which, when the man’s back was turned, he slunk into the gardens, and, +with his cardinal’s red stockings showing below his overcoat, took up the +most prominent position he could select, where he waited for the royal +family and its suite to pass. The queen saw him and recognised him, and +next day gave orders for the instant dismissal of the gatekeeper; but +Madame Campan, who had been informed of all the circumstances, appealed +to Marie-Antoinette in the man’s behalf, and succeeded in getting him +retained in his post.[233] + +To console Marie-Antoinette for not having appointed her favourite, the +Duke de Choiseul, prime minister, Louis XVI. is said to have given her +the Little Trianon, which skirts the park of Versailles and adjoins +the gardens of the Great Trianon, to do as she pleased with. “You love +flowers,” said he: “ah! well, I have a bouquet for you—the Little +Trianon.” + +The repairing and embellishing of this miniature palace, the alteration +and enlargement of its grounds, with a host of artists and gardeners +subject to her sway, was for the next year or two Marie-Antoinette’s +greatest delight. The building, erected by the architect Gabriel, for +Louis XV., is of a square form, and each of its sides has a frontage +of only seventy feet. It is in the Italian style, and its different +façades are ornamented with Corinthian columns or pilasters and enriched +friezes and cornices. The depraved old king in the last years of his +life was enamoured with this “little corner of his grand Versailles.” It +was to his taste, for here he could live in retirement and at his ease. +In addition to its flower garden, laid out in the formal French style, +there was a botanical garden, which Louis XIV., at the time he lived at +the Great Trianon, caused to be planted with exotic trees and shrubs of +multifarious tints and perfumes then almost unknown in France. + +The principal entrance to the Little Trianon leads immediately to the +grand staircase with its handsome gilded balustrade, in the interlacings +of which the initials M. A. are prominently displayed. Facing the +landing, as if in menace, is a head of the Medusa, which proved +powerless however to keep out scandal. After a small antechamber comes +the _salle-à-manger_, decorated with paintings of the four seasons by +Dejeune, and bathing and fishing subjects by Pater, and the re-joined +_parquet_ of which shows traces of the opening through which Loriot’s +flying table was accustomed to ascend at the orgies of Louis XV. In this +apartment commence the ornaments upon the panelling—crossed quivers +surmounted by wreaths of roses and garlands of flowers—executed by +order of Marie-Antoinette. The little _salon_ near the _salle-à-manger_ +displays in relief upon its sides emblems of the vintage and the +attributes of the genius of comedy. Hanging from festoons of grapes +are bunches and baskets of fruit, masks and tambourines, flutes and +guitars, and beneath the marble beards of the goats that support the +mantelpiece more bunches of grapes are entwined. At the four corners of +the cornice of the grand _salon_ are groups of cupids at play. Each +panel, surmounted by the emblems of literature and the arts, springs from +a stalk of triple flowering lilies, garlanded with laurel and with a +wreath of full-blown roses by way of crest. Four paintings by Watteau—of +those graceful Decameron-like subjects in which he excelled—are on the +walls of this apartment. In the little cabinet which precedes the queen’s +bedchamber the finest arabesques run over the woodwork; here are cupids +bearing cornucopias overflowing with flowers, cooing doves, smoking +tripods, and crossed bows and arrows hanging to ribbons. Bouquets of +poppies intermingled with thousands of small flowers, all most delicately +rendered, are scattered over the panels of the bedroom; the bed with its +light blue silk hangings, the chairs and couches _en suite_, and the +console tables, looking-glasses, clock and chandeliers being, it is said, +much as they were in the days of Marie-Antoinette. + +The most elegant façade of the little palace, with its four fluted +Corinthian columns and its four flights of steps in the form of an +Italian terrace, looks over the French garden, with its flower beds of +geometric form and the flowers themselves planted in straight lines. In +the centre of this garden, which is bordered by cool green arcades formed +of trees clipped into shape, is a small pavilion with groups of cupids +surmounting each of its four entrances. This was the summer dining-room +of both Louis XV. and Marie-Antoinette. At the end of one of these leafy +arcades is the theatre, where the queen and her friends performed alike +comedies and operas. Sculptured in high relief above the principal +entrance is a cupid grasping a lyre and a crown of laurel, with torches, +trumpets, and rolls of music lying at his feet. The interior decorations +of the theatre are white and gold; the orchestra stalls and fronts of +the boxes are covered with blue velvet, the panels being decorated with +cupids suspending garlands of flowers. On either side of the stage two +gilded nymphs gracefully twist themselves into candelabra, and above the +curtain two other nymphs support the escutcheon of Marie-Antoinette. + +At the back and to the right of the little palace is the queen’s +production, the English garden as it is called, laid out with an absence +of formality which almost rivals the productions of Nature’s self. The +waters apparently wind according to their own fancy, the trees and +shrubs seem to have been sown at the will of the wind. Nearly a thousand +varieties of trees, some among them being most rare, join their shade and +mingle the different tints of their leaves, which vary from the lightest +and deepest greens to dark purple and cherry red. The flowers appear to +have been planted at hazard; the ground rises and falls at its will; +paths wind and go out of the way with provoking pertinacity; stones have +been converted into rocks, and small patches of grass made to resemble +meadows. + +From a hillock in the midst of a thicket of roses, jasmine, and myrtle, +rises a belvidere, from whence the queen was accustomed to take in a +view of the whole of her domain. This octangular pavilion, with its four +windows and its four doors, and its eight sphinxes crouching upon the +steps, has repeated eight times over, in figures upon its skirtings and +in emblems over its entrances, the allegory of the four seasons, carved +by perhaps the cleverest chisel of the century. The interior is paved +with coloured marbles, and coloured arabesques run along its walls, with +more bows and arrows and quivers, more bouquets and garlands of flowers +and musical instruments, together with cameos and cages hanging from +ribbons, and little monkeys and squirrels that scratch the sides of a +crystal vase or play with the fishes. In the centre of the pavilion, +a table, from which hang three rings, rests upon three claws of gilt +bronze; this is the table at which Marie-Antoinette breakfasted, for this +belvidere was her morning _salle-à-manger_. + +From here she could overlook her grotto and the group of artificial +rocks; the waterfall, and the trembling bridge thrown across the little +torrent; the lake, and, under the shade of the shrubs, the embarking and +landing-places, with the galley dotted all over with _fleurs-de-lis_; the +temple of love open to all the winds, with its statue, by Bouchardon, +of Cupid trying to trim for himself a bow out of the massive club of +Hercules; the groves that skirt the river’s bank; and, finally, at the +most remote part of the garden—the background, so to speak, of the +picture—the hamlet where Marie-Antoinette had the king disguised as a +miller, and the Count de Provence as a schoolmaster. Here are the little +houses of the village nestled together like members of one family. +The queen’s is the prettiest of them all, for it has vases filled +with flowers, and grape-vines in front of it. On the opposite side +of the lake, and near to the water’s edge, is the white marble dairy, +with its four goat’s-head fountains, and close beside it, and near +to a weeping-willow planted by the queen’s own hand, is the tower of +Marlborough, so called from the nursery song which the young dauphin’s +_bonne_ used to sing to him. Nothing is wanting to this pretty village +of the stage, neither the curé’s house nor that of the bailiff; nor +the mill, with its wheel which actually turns; neither the farmhouse, +with the stone troughs for the cattle, and the little barns to store +away the corn; nor the thatched roofs, the wooden balconies, the little +diamond-paned windows, and the flights of steps at the sides of the +cottages. Marie-Antoinette and Hubert Robert, the painter, had thought +of everything, even of painting rents in the stone work, cracks in the +plaster, with here and there beams and bricks jutting out of place, as +if time would not wither with sufficient rapidity this pleasantry of a +queen.[234] + +Marie-Antoinette put aside all regal authority at the Trianon. Here she +was no longer queen, but merely the mistress of the establishment, which +was like an ordinary country-house, with its small retinue of servants +and all its unrestrained habits. When the queen entered the _salon_, the +ladies neither quitted the piano nor their embroidery-frames, nor the men +their games at billiards or backgammon. The king would come to Trianon +on foot, and unattended. The queen’s guests arrived at two o’clock to +dinner, and returned to Versailles at midnight. Marie-Antoinette’s +occupations and amusements were exclusively those of a country life. +Attired in a white muslin dress, a lace shawl, and a straw hat, she would +run about the gardens, or visit her farm, where she would take her guests +to drink her milk and eat her new-laid eggs; or she would conduct the +king to a summer-house, where he could read his book undisturbed until +she summoned him to a lunch on the grass; after which she would amuse +herself by watching the milking of her cows, or with fishing in the lake, +or, seated on a rustic seat, would occupy herself by winding up the +distaff of some young villager. Now and then she would give some grand +ball, to which all the courtiers from Versailles would be invited, when +dancing would go on under a large tent on the lawn in the day-time until +the sun set, and at night-time almost until it rose again. + +All this must have been a great relief from Versailles and Marly and +the troop of intriguing courtiers that migrated backwards and forwards +according as royalty pitched its tent at one château or the other. There +was something too morally foul in the atmosphere of both these places. +Most of the evenings not given up to dancing were spent at play, which +some letters of court gossip of the time characteristically describe as +being “murderous.” The Count d’Artois, after losing two million francs, +was exiled by the king to Fontainebleau. On one occasion a certain M. de +Chalabre lost as much as 42,000 louis at a sitting, and being without +sufficient ready cash to discharge the whole of his obligations, had to +hand over debts due to him from the Countesses de Provence and d’Artois, +for fifty thousand and twenty-five thousand crowns respectively. The +queen, who was a winner of 7000 louis of poor Chalabre’s money, sent +the next day, we are told, for Mdlle. Bertin, her milliner, and paid +her account. Among the persons of rank and position admitted to these +assembles there seem to have been both sharpers and pickpockets, for on +one occasion a rouleau of fifty counterfeit louis was placed on a card +by M. du Luc d’Andilly, an ex-mousquetaire, and son of Count du Luc of +Picardy. On the cheat being discovered, the king ordered the culprit to +be degraded from his nobility and declared incapable of serving him in +future. At another time, Count Arthur Dillon, one of the queen’s intimate +friends, had his pocket picked of his purse filled with bank notes. It +was suggested that everybody in the _salon_—some forty in number—should +be searched, but nothing was done, and the count never saw his purse +again.[235] + +Private theatricals were at this time in great favour with the queen, +whose Trianon _troupe_ comprised the Count d’Artois, who is said to have +danced passably well on the tight rope, but only acted in a manner that +was just bearable,[236] M. de Vaudreuil, M. d’Adhémar, the Duke and +Duchess de Guiche, the Countess Diane de Polignac, and M. de Crussol: +occasionally the Baron de Besenval, the Countess de Polastron, and Counts +Esterhazy and de Coigny had parts assigned them. The Count de Provence +and his wife considered these diversions beneath their rank, and the +king, moreover, disapproved of them. Out of politeness to the queen, +he was now and then present at the representations, when he habitually +hissed the actors. On one occasion, when the “Devin du Village” was being +played, and the queen was singing an air with more than her accustomed +taste, all at once a whistle was heard from the back of one of the +boxes. Marie-Antoinette soon perceived that it was from the king himself +that this interruption proceeded. Advancing to the footlights, she +bowed profoundly, and said, with a smile: “Sir, if you are dissatisfied +with the performers you can leave, and your money will be returned to +you.”[237] She then resumed her song, which she was permitted to finish +without further interruption. Beaumarchais’ comedy of the “Barbier +de Seville,” for which, Madame Campan tells us, Marie-Antoinette was +studying her part at the time she made the disclosure to her of the +conversation she had had with Böhmer respecting the Necklace, was the +last piece performed by this aristocratic _troupe_. It was played on the +19th of August, 1785, the very day on which the Countess de la Motte was +lodged in the Bastille. + + + + +XXVII. + +1785. + +CALUMNIES AGAINST THE QUEEN.—HER ANIMOSITY AGAINST THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN. + + +From the day she became queen, to the very hour of her death, and +even after the grave had closed over her headless corse, the unhappy +Marie-Antoinette was fated to be the victim of calumny. Her youthful +levity was magnified into natural vice. Her most innocent amusements were +made the objects of dark suspicion. Her friendships were so many criminal +attachments. From Marly to Versailles, and from Versailles to Marly, +slander pursued her. It penetrated the groves of Trianon, and insinuated +that secret orgies, rivalling those of the “Parc aux cerfs,” were carried +on in this now favourite retreat. Indecent pamphlets referring to her, +written by hireling scribes, were circulated all over France. Libels +against her were even forged in the police bureau. Scandalous songs were +thrown at the king’s feet, in the “Œil-de-Bœuf.” Scandalous libels were +placed under his dinner-napkin. Courtiers repeated the last foul epigram, +the last lying report against the queen, in the royal antechambers, +whispered it and chuckled over it even in the queen’s presence; carried +it from Versailles or Marly, post haste to Paris, to the different +hostile _salons_, to the green-rooms of the theatre and the opera, and +to the _cafés_, thence to be disseminated all over the capital, even to +the _halles_; carried it to their country châteaux, and laughed over it +at their dinner-tables, whence it spread among their tenantry and the +inhabitants of the adjacent towns: + + “And they who told it added something new, + And they who heard it made enlargement too, + In ev’ry ear it spread, on every tongue it grew.” + +Fancy what a perfect fund of scandal this affair of the Necklace, +enveloped as it was at first in such an impenetrable mystery, provided +for these despicable minds! What an arsenal for defamation and calumny +it furnished to the avowed enemies of Marie-Antoinette! The Orléans +faction professed to look upon it as a state crime, pretending to believe +that the real culprit was the queen, who had secured the Necklace +through the medium of the cardinal, he having been her dupe in the first +instance, and afterwards her victim. They gave out, through their herd of +itinerant agents—men without characters, without homes, without bread, +without settled occupations, fitted only for scandalous adventures, and +living only by dishonourable expedients—that it was Marie-Antoinette +herself, “_la louve Autrichienne_,” as they styled her, who had met the +grand almoner in the park of Versailles at midnight; that it was she +who had heard his exculpation, and had listened to his new promises of +fealty, which had been sealed by embraces and the gift of a rose; and +further, that she had subsequently granted him several secret interviews +at the Little Trianon. On this false basis they raised their broad +superstructure of defamation, and pursued the queen with every species +of malignant slander in pasquinades, epigrams, and songs,[238] “unfit +for print or pen, the brutality of which nothing can exceed; but which, +nevertheless, found believers—increase of believers, in the public +exasperation—and did the queen, say all her historians, incalculable +damage,”[239] until finally the hideous fabrications culminated in the +epithet of Messalina, hurled at her by the furies of the _halles_ on her +way to the guillotine. + +To this body of antagonists must be added those retailers of gossip and +small talk who, in a country like France, where most men are mixed up in +intrigues, (and no reputation is too sacred for the inuendo, the smart +sally, and the _bon-mot_,) delight and revel in scandals enveloped in +some degree of mystery. There was certainly no lack of mystery in the +affair of the Necklace, and these quick-witted individuals, thinking only +of the entangled web offered them to unravel, displayed their ingenuity +in suggesting clue after clue, regardless as to whether this or that +clever explanation which they put forward compromised the queen or no, +for the old loyal feeling of the nation was by this time utterly dead. + +The lower classes of society in France had for some time past been +brought to believe, and not without reason, that kings and queens were +their natural enemies; that they despised, if they did not hate, their +poorer subjects, whom they only valued as so much food for powder, or +for what they could furnish to the exchequer through the hard extortion +of the tax-gatherer. Marie-Antoinette was deservedly blamed for her +thoughtless acquisition of the château of St. Cloud, at an outlay of six +million francs, at this particular period when several bad harvests had +imposed new hardships on the people; when provisions were frightfully +scarce, prices correspondingly high, and tillage employment, save as +“statute labour,” hardly to be had. The peasants in certain parts had +even been reduced to live “on meal, husks, and boiled grass.” In the +towns, the distress, if not so great, was still considerable, and large +numbers of men were out of work. Crowds of idlers, as a matter of +course, filled the cafés and cabarets—men with fermenting minds, and +only too ready to believe any new calumny against the objects of their +disaffection, and to lend their busy tongues to circulate the foulest +slanders through the land. Upon the quick fancies of these thoughtless +men, who never paused to examine what they heard, the enemies of +Marie-Antoinette, who went about inflaming the discontented, encouraging +the angry, and imposing on the thoughtless and the credulous, made a +lasting and fatal impression. + +Whilst the numerous enemies of the queen were thus at work turning the +Necklace scandal to the best account, the Baron de Breteuil, whose hatred +of the cardinal knew no bounds, was straining every nerve to convert it +into an instrument for the effectual ruin of his enemy. The Abbé Georgel +assures us that this animosity went so far as to induce the minister to +promise Böhmer—who, according to some accounts, had in the first instance +been arrested in conjunction with Saint-James and others on suspicion +of being privy to the abuse of the queen’s name[240]—full payment for +the Necklace if he would aggravate his evidence against the cardinal. De +Breteuil also sent emissaries to the Bastille, to communicate with Madame +de la Motte, offering to save her if she would furnish sufficient proof +to inculpate his old enemy. + +Beugnot, at this period a rising young barrister of four-and-twenty, +understood to be an intimate acquaintance of the De la Mottes, and known +to have been the person last in company with the countess previous to her +arrest, fully expected to be sent to join her in the Bastille. The Baron +de Breteuil, however, far from ordering Beugnot’s arrest, instructed +M. de Crosne,—recently appointed lieutenant of police in place of M. +Lenoir, promoted to the presidency of the administration of finances—to +send privately for the young barrister, when, playing on his vanity, he +recommended him to take the countess’s brief, as the trial was certain +to attract the eyes of all men, and could hardly fail to push forward a +young advocate in his career. But Beugnot, who knew his proposed client +too well, declined to avail himself of the opportunity. “The next day,” +observes he, “I received a new message from M. de Crosne, which involved +another visit on my part. The lieutenant of police gave me an opened +letter of Madame de la Motte’s, who, not understanding the difficulties +which I felt in charging myself with her defence, begged me to come +and see her. M. de Crosne backed up her request with some pressing +solicitations of his own; then judging from my obstinate refusal, or +possibly from something that Madame de la Motte had said to him, that I +thought there was danger attached to the post proposed to me, he sought +to reassure me on this point, and urged me to see the Baron de Breteuil. +I declined. ‘I could say nothing to the minister,’ I remarked, ‘which I +had not already said to him, neither would the former obtain from me what +I had refused to the lieutenant of police.’ M. de Crosne insisted still +more strongly, and gave me to understand that more condescension on my +part to the views of the authorities would be neither prejudicial to my +professional advancement nor to my fortune; his favourite refrain always +being—‘See the Baron de Breteuil.’ I gave M. de Crosne to understand that +I should not have that honour, since I did not see to what it could lead, +and I left him, after obtaining permission to address to him a letter in +reply to the one he had delivered to me. + +“When recalling this scene, I can scarcely doubt the nature of the +political interest which the Baron de Breteuil took in Madame de la +Motte. He knew from one of his confidential emissaries, with whom I +had been conversing, that I treated the stealing of the Necklace as +comparatively a pitiful incident; but that I regarded the scene in the +park almost in the light of a capital crime. This was apparently in +precise accordance with his own views, and made him anxious that Madame +de la Motte’s counsel should share to the fullest extent in his opinions. +In replying to the countess’s letter, I grounded my refusal on my want +of talent and experience for so grave a business, and I added, that it +would be useless for her to insist further, as my refusal being dictated +to me by my conscience, nothing she could urge would induce me to revoke +it.”[241] + +On her side, Marie-Antoinette, deeply and very naturally incensed +against the Prince de Rohan, and, truth to tell, quite as eager for his +destruction as the minister Breteuil, refused likewise to look elsewhere +for a culprit. Both she and the king believed the grand almoner to be +guilty of the peculation of the Necklace, and of an impertinent abuse +of the queen’s name. They knew he had contracted enormous debts; they +knew, too, that he had been charged with tampering with the funds of +a rich hospital, the Quinze-Vingts, of which he was treasurer, and +that he had hitherto led a most dissolute life. Was he not, therefore, +precisely the man who would be likely to perpetrate such a crime? Already +branded in public opinion for an alleged malversation of a million of +francs in the matter of the Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, his office +of grand almoner, and his dignity as a prince of the Church, could not +raise him above suspicion. The aversion first excited in the queen’s +mind by the cardinal’s private letter against her mother, and his +injurious representations respecting herself at the court of Vienna, +was increased to positive hatred by the description of the scene in +the park of Versailles, by the frequent association of her own name +with his in people’s mouths, as well as by the offensive commentaries +provoked by that association. This burning abhorrence, continually fed +by fresh reports similar in character to the foregoing, so blinded +Marie-Antoinette to the strict rules and rigid formalities of justice, +that in her first moments of passion she is said to have demanded the +cardinal’s life of the king, and the king, moreover, is believed to have +promised her that he should not escape the scaffold. + + + + +XXVIII. + +1785. SEPT.–OCT. + +PREPARATIONS FOR THE TRIAL.—CAPTURE OF THE COUNTERFEIT QUEEN. + + +The Cardinal de Rohan, who in the first instance was looked upon as the +grand criminal in the Necklace affair, was no sooner in safe keeping +than the somewhat difficult question arose what should be done with +him. It is true that the queen, in her first moments of anger, urged on +by her adviser, the Abbé Vermond, and the cardinal’s enemy, the Baron +de Breteuil, was for doing swift execution upon the grand almoner; but +fortunately for the latter there were certain tedious forms of law to be +gone through before a prince of the holy Roman Church could be consigned +to the scaffold. Irresolute Louis XVI. had, of course, no opinion of his +own upon the subject, and it is quite certain that much indecision on the +subject prevailed among his chief advisers. Phlegmatic M. de Vergennes, +though no friend of the queen, seems to have thought it best to hush the +matter up, and let the scandal die out if it would, and he well-nigh +convinced the king that this would be the proper course to pursue. While +the affair was under discussion, Louis XVI. wrote to M. de Vergennes as +follows: + +“I thank you, sir, for your new interview with M. de Breteuil. I have +weighed your reasons; come to-morrow before mass, and I will hear you +upon this subject once more. It is necessary that a decision should be +arrived at, so as to end with this intrigue of a needy man, who has so +scandalously compromised the queen, and who, in order to clear himself, +has no other recourse than to allege his connection with an adventuress +of the worst kind. He dishonours his ecclesiastical character. Being a +cardinal, he is none the less a subject of my crown.”[242] + +This interview seems to have resulted in a proposal to the cardinal, +offering him the option of throwing himself upon the clemency of the +king, or of being arraigned before the parliament, not doubting that he +would be only too ready to accept the first of these two alternatives. +The cardinal, however, decided upon consulting his friends and advocates; +and among the latter were two of the ablest members of the Paris bar, the +one, M. Target, robust of brain and body, pompous in speech, learned as +intense study could render him, versed in the treasures of literature, +fiery, impetuous, an athlete redoubtable to all,[243] who, as member of +the National Assembly, subsequently busied himself a good deal in framing +the constitution, and was in after years applied to to undertake the +defence of Louis XVI. himself—a duty which he declined on the plea that +he was getting old; the other, M. Tronchet, who, though ten years older +than Target, did undertake to defend the king, although he knew he was +engaging in a hopeless cause—Tronchet, whose natural phlegm disposed him +to listen with attention, and whom a healthy judgment directed aright +even in the most difficult matters.[244] The cardinal’s friends were all +of them in favour of the parliament; while his advocates were divided in +opinion. Nevertheless, by the parliament he decided he would be judged, +and made known his election to the king in the following terms: + +“Sire,—I respectfully thank your majesty for the alternative you have +been pleased to offer me. I have no hesitation in preferring the +parliament, as affording me the surest way of unmasking the intrigue of +which I am the victim, and of proving my innocence before the world.”[245] + +On receiving this reply, and exactly three weeks after the cardinal’s +arrest, the king issued his royal letters patent, addressed to the +Parliament of Paris, formally apprising it of the great fraud that had +been committed in the queen’s name, and of the arrest of the supposed +authors of it, and requiring the parliament to investigate and judge +the affair. The cardinal having selected the parliament as the tribunal +before which he desired to be arraigned, now protested, in his character +of bishop and prince of the holy Roman Church, in a somewhat mild way, +against the competency of the judges he had himself chosen, and humbly +besought the parliament that he might be tried by an ecclesiastical +tribunal, composed of his peers or brethren in the episcopacy, in +accordance with the recognised rights and privileges of the Catholic +Church. This request being refused, the cardinal had no option but to +accept the tribunal named by the king. On the pope hearing of this, he +summoned a consistory, which unanimously declared that the Cardinal de +Rohan had acted contrary to his dignity as a member of the sacred college +in recognizing the authority of the parliament, and at once directed his +ecclesiastical suspension for a period of six months, at the end of which +time, in the event of his persisting in his course, he was to be struck +off the list of cardinals.[246] In this dilemma, the Abbé Lemoine was +despatched to Rome by the cardinal’s friends, and succeeded in proving to +the pope that the Prince de Rohan had made the protests which his dignity +required, though without avail, and that he only accepted a secular +tribunal because he was compelled to subscribe to the will of the king. +The interdict was thereupon removed, and the cardinal reinstated in all +his functions. + +While these formalities were being discussed, and the affair still +partook of the character of a political contest between the adherents and +friends of the house of Rohan united with the enemies of Marie-Antoinette +on the one hand, and the court and government and partizans of the +crown on the other;—while people were eagerly devouring the statements +circulated on behalf of the accused, and were now blaming, now seeking to +exculpate the cardinal, and were either attacking or sympathising with +Madame de la Motte, and ridiculing Cagliostro,—an individual whom no one +was particularly regarding, was silently, but none the less earnestly, +labouring to overthrow the cold calculations of political animosity, +and dissolve all those dreams of private vengeance of which the Prince +de Rohan was the object. This was the Abbé Georgel, the cardinal’s +vicar-general, who had taken upon himself the task of disentangling +the threads of this complicated affair. With the sanction of the grand +almoner, he went first of all to the jewellers, and arranged with them +that they should receive payment for the Necklace in full, with all +interest then due or that might hereafter accrue, and he gave them as +security an assignment under the cardinal’s hand, of the revenues of the +Abbey of St. Waast, to the amount of three hundred thousand livres per +annum. Thus this able man of business, by a single wrench, so to speak, +drew out the most envenomed shaft, converting the jewellers from enemies, +if not into friends, at any rate into very harmless antagonists. The +cardinal’s other creditors, whose claims amounted to nearly two millions +of livres, on hearing of this assignment, became clamorous, and had also +to be successfully arranged with.[247] + +The abbé directed his attention to the state prosecution, in order to see +whether it could not be diverted from the cardinal, the actual victim +of the fraud, to the countess and her confederates, the perpetrators of +it. Night and day, with the pertinacity of the true Jesuit, did the Abbé +Georgel pursue his plan; now visiting the Bastille and interrogating the +cardinal next examining his friends, his visitors, and his domestics, +and then again the different individuals to whom these referred him, and +taking notes of every scrap of information he obtained. For many weeks +his industry seemed to yield him no result, for as yet he was without +anything like a positive clue. At length, from hints given him by the +Abbé de Juncker, he tracked out Father Loth, one of the countess’s minor +instruments, and so far privy to, if not an actual accomplice in, her +misdeeds as to judge it prudent on his part to keep entirely in the +background until the Necklace inquiry was brought to a close.[248] For +a long time he was a most unwilling witness, but eventually the Abbé +Georgel skilfully extracted from him all that he knew, and learned +for the first time the names of Mademoiselle d’Oliva and of Rétaux de +Villette, and the _rôles_ they had been engaged to play. The announcement +of this discovery demolished in a moment the subtle political intrigue, +the object of which had been to send the Cardinal de Rohan to the +scaffold. + +Encouraged by this stroke of good fortune, the abbé proceeded to track +the fugitives, for Mademoiselle d’Oliva, and Rétaux de Villette, had both +turned their backs upon Paris soon after the countess’s arrest. Through +the good offices of the Count de Vergennes, who prevailed on the king +to consent to a demand being made in his name, for the surrender of the +“_jolie demoiselle_” of the Palais Royal she was arrested at Brussels +on the 16th of October in the middle of the night by the sub-lieutenant +of police, three civic officers, a greffier, and some half-dozen of the +town guard—rather a formidable force to take an unprotected female of +four-and-twenty into custody. It is supposed to have been owing to the +exertions of Marie-Antoinette’s sister, the Duchess of Saxe-Teschen, +then _gouvernante_ of the Austrian Netherlands, that the Demoiselle +d’Oliva and her lover, a certain M. de Beausire, formerly attached to +the household of the Count d’Artois, were routed out. In a letter of +the queen’s, written to her sister, she says, “Your government, I am +certain, will second me in searching for the woman who played the part +in the garden scene, and who has taken refuge with you.”[249] D’Oliva +was at once brought to Paris, and lodged in the Bastille. She, however, +knew nothing beyond what related to the nocturnal scene in the park of +Versailles, when she had been tricked out to play the part of queen. + +Yet what Mademoiselle d’Oliva did know she told with frankness and with +an air of perfect truth. A memorial, ostensibly on her behalf, was +brought out by the indefatigable abbé, containing the announcement of +the important fact, now proved beyond a doubt, that it was the humble +individual now in custody, and not the Queen of France, who took part +in the famous interview which had given rise to so much scandal. The +story was so clear, the incident so fully explained, that the malice of +ten thousand tongues was in a moment deprived of its nutriment, and +the great figure of Marie-Antoinette was suddenly withdrawn from the +scene—too late, alas! for her subsequent reputation,—while the innocence +of the cardinal was everywhere beginning to be felt. + +Before D’Oliva’s memorial made its appearance, however, and indeed, +before the counterfeit queen’s capture, Madame de la Motte had been +engaged in furnishing her counsel with the materials for a memorial on +her own behalf, which was made public early in November, when, in all +probability, she had not heard of D’Oliva’s arrest. This formed number +one of that series of lying “Mémoires” issued by the countess, which, +in their endeavour to explain away certain new evidence that had come +to light, contradicted former statements made by her, contradicted each +other, and at times contradicted themselves. The countess avers that +so great was the excitement on the occasion of the issue of her first +memorial, that M. Doillot, her advocate, was obliged to have a guard at +his house during the distribution of the copies, six thousand of which +were sold in the course of a day or two.[250] + +The countess, who had been in the Bastille for several months, feeling +by no means dissatisfied with the turn her case was apparently taking, +and contenting herself with denying all knowledge of the Necklace, +experienced a certain degree of disquiet on learning of the arrest of +Mademoiselle d’Oliva; still, her fertile brain was soon at work to +concoct some kind of explanation of the circumstances to which this new +witness might be expected to depose. Besides, if it came to the worst, +could she not fall back upon her system of general denial? and was not +D’Oliva a person of notoriously bad character, whose word would weigh +as nothing against that of a descendant of the house of Valois? It must +have been about this time that she would have also heard from her counsel +of the rumours afloat respecting the depositions which Carbonnières, +intendant of the cardinal’s household, had procured in England from the +jewellers Gray and Jefferys, and have seen how necessary it was that the +more complete story which she would now be constrained to tell should fit +in all its parts with this new and unexpected evidence. It was more than +ever requisite that she should be wakeful, since she had heard, like the +rest of the world, that the prosecution would be a contest between the +queen and the Baron de Breteuil on the one hand, and the Prince de Rohan +and his powerful partisans on the other; and there are strong reasons +for believing that the home secretary and other enemies of the cardinal +had insinuated to her, through various channels, that if she could only +produce good evidence against the grand almoner, no other victim would be +required. If we can believe her own statement, that “mercenary hireling,” +as she calls him, Commissary Chénon, “made use of every argument to +exasperate me against the cardinal,” and wound up by saying, “He indeed +may lay all manner of things to your charge, but make yourself easy, we +shall take care to saddle him with everything.” + + + + +XXIX. + +1786. JAN. + +THE TRIAL: EXAMINATION OF THE ACCUSED. + + +At length, after the law had exhausted its customary period of delay, the +examination of the accused commenced. The Cardinal de Rohan was first +questioned, and told his story much the same as the reader has already +gathered it from the preceding pages. Mademoiselle d’Oliva was next +examined, and simply confirmed all that she had stated in her published +memorial, from which we have quoted the chief passages. Pecuniary +embarrassment, she said, was the sole reason of her leaving Paris within +a few weeks of the time that Madame de la Motte was arrested, for it was +then that her creditors began to press her for payment of their claims. +She went to Brussels by the recommendation of a person who lived in the +same house that she did, and whom she knew to be a native of that place. +It was now the countess’s turn, for as yet Rétaux de Villette had proved +more than a match for the sleuth-hounds of the Abbé Georgel, and was +still skulking in some safe retreat. As for Cagliostro, his examination +was to be deferred until after the countess’s had been brought to a close. + +Madame de la Motte commenced by detailing the chief incidents in her +career, from the time she was taken notice of by the Marchioness +de Boulainvilliers until the moment of her first introduction to +the Cardinal de Rohan, with something like a regard for truth. When +questioned respecting her pretended intimacy with the queen, she said +she had not the honour of being known to her, and denied ever having +represented that she had access to her; averred that she had never shown +any letters purporting to be from her majesty; that she had never been +honoured with letters from her, and consequently could not have shown any +such letters. + +With regard to Mademoiselle d’Oliva, the countess stated that all she +knew of her arose from casually meeting her in the Palais Royal, when +she learnt from her that her husband, who was a friend of Monsieur de +Choiseul, had left her, and gone to America. Compassionating her lonely +condition, and finding her to be, to all appearances, a well-conducted +young person, she had asked her to her house, “and had taken her on one +occasion to Versailles, where she stayed with her for three days.” When +asked if she had not told D’Oliva that she was a lady of the court, on +terms of close intimacy with the queen, by whom she was charged to find +a person who would render her majesty some service, for which a reward +of fifteen thousand francs would be given, she ridiculed the entire +affair. She maintained it to be an invention on the part of the cardinal +and Father Loth, who both knew of the unpleasantness that had arisen +between her husband and herself with regard to the woman D’Oliva, whom +she afterwards found by her behaviour to be anything but the respectable +person she represented herself, being, in fact, a common courtesan who +had been receiving the visits of Count de la Motte for some time past. +She admitted that D’Oliva walked in the park of Versailles with her +husband and Villette, on some evening in July of the year 1784, while +she was promenading with the Cardinal de Rohan, but she utterly denied +the whole story of dressing her up to personate the queen, and then +conducting her to the park and instructing her what she was to say on +being addressed by a great personage to whom she was to hand a letter +and a rose. The countess protested that she felt highly indignant at the +mere suggestion of these “numerous falsehoods,” these “horrible reports;” +that “the entire thing was most absurd, and nothing but a foolish and +incredible fable, most wretchedly concocted by its author, the Prince de +Rohan.” She said, of course it was false that she had ever told D’Oliva +that the queen was pleased at the way in which she had acquitted herself, +or that she had read a letter to her, purporting to be from the queen, +saying the same thing; and as for having given D’Oliva one thousand or +three thousand livres, or any money whatever, after this affair, she had +certainly done nothing of the kind. + +When asked if she had obtained from the Cardinal de Rohan two sums of +50,000 livres and 100,000 livres, in the months of August and November, +1784, in the queen’s name, she simply ridiculed the suggestion, and +pertinently asked, was it likely the cardinal would have been so mad as +to have handed over to her such considerable amounts as these without +receiving orders perfectly well known to have come from the queen, or, at +any rate, without taking some kind of acknowledgment from her for them? + +On being questioned with respect to the Necklace, the countess denied +having had anything whatever to do with its purchase. She said she only +saw the jewellers once before it was sold to the cardinal, on which +occasion she peremptorily declined meddling in the affair. When asked +if she had carried or had shown to the cardinal a letter purporting +to be from the queen, wherein the queen expressed a wish to possess +the Necklace, she ingeniously observed, that if it were intended to be +suggested that she had been the bearer of any such letter as that alluded +to, she desired the letter might be produced, for it was the cardinal’s +duty to have preserved a document of such importance. She admitted +having casually spoken to the cardinal about the Necklace the day after +the jewellers had shown it to her, but the cardinal appeared to pay no +attention to what she said, although he afterwards sent to her for the +jewellers’ address. She certainly showed his note to Böhmer and Bassenge, +but never said or hinted to them that he was acting on behalf of the +queen, whose name was never once mentioned. With regard to the actual +purchase of the Necklace she knew positively nothing until several days +afterwards, when the cardinal told her that he had bought it for the +queen. + +As to the contract, the countess declared it had not been given to her +to show to the queen, and consequently she could not have returned it to +the cardinal “approved” and signed. When the contract was first shown to +her she immediately recognised the body of it as being in the cardinal’s +handwriting, but she did not know the writing of the signature: she +positively denied having written it herself, or that it had been signed +by any person she knew.[251] + +In reply to further questions, Madame de la Motte stated that she did not +know when the Necklace was handed over, and could not say whether she +saw the cardinal at Versailles on the 1st of February, 1785, although she +saw him most days when he was there. She had no hesitation in declaring +the story about the cardinal bringing the Necklace to her house, and +the casket being handed over to a person who came with a note from +the queen, to be absolutely false from beginning to end. The countess +indignantly denied ever having had the Necklace in her possession, or +having had it taken to pieces; but, knowing well enough that there was +evidence forthcoming of her and her husband having sold some of the +diamonds forming part of it, she endeavoured to make her admission fit, +as it were, with the evidence she thought likely to be brought forward. +She maintained, however, that she was merely acting as agent for the +cardinal, who, she said, sent her first of all twenty-two diamonds in +a little box, with a note bidding her sell them as soon as she could. +Subsequently he sent her a second box, containing a number of small +diamonds which she was likewise to dispose of. The first parcel of +diamonds Villette, she said, endeavoured to sell, but was unsuccessful, +and they were eventually sold to the jeweller Paris for fifteen +thousand livres, by recommendation of Monsieur Filleul,[252] advocate +of Bar-sur-Aube, and this amount she duly remitted to the cardinal, who +afterwards sent her sixteen other diamonds, which she sold to the same +person for sixteen thousand livres, and forwarded the amount to the +cardinal in the early part of May. The small diamonds, she said, she sold +to Regnier, together with one of larger size which the cardinal had given +her, for the sum of five thousand five hundred and forty francs. The two +diamond rings which, it will be remembered, were set by Regnier, were +set, she said, for the cardinal, and she asserted the same with respect +to a _bonbonnière_ which Regnier had encircled with diamonds for the +count. + +During the same month, while the Cardinal de Rohan was at Saverne, she +said, one Carbonnières, a member of the cardinal’s household, came to +her in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, at six o’clock in the morning, and +inquired if it would be possible for her to undertake a journey to +Saverne in four days’ time, some urgent business which he had in hand +preventing him from going himself. He had something of great value and +importance to transmit to the cardinal, who, he knew, would be very much +pleased with her if she but did what he asked. At the expiration of the +four days, Carbonnières, she said, brought her a large sealed packet, and +lent her his walking-cane, and directed the coachman to proceed by the +Porte St. Martin as far as Pantin, the first stage. On reaching Saverne +she put up at an inn, and apprised the cardinal of her arrival, whereupon +he sent over one of his own carriages to fetch her. Immediately she saw +the cardinal she gave him the sealed packet, and he asked her to stay and +dine with him, but as she was dressed in man’s clothes she was obliged to +decline. The cardinal, after thanking her for the trouble she had been +at on his account, then made her a present of the _bonbonnière_ which +Regnier had mounted with diamonds for him. “Open it,” he said, “and you +will find something.” She did as directed, and saw it was full of unset +diamonds. On leaving the cardinal intrusted her with a packet of letters +for Carbonnières, which, on her arrival at Paris, she duly forwarded to +the Hôtel de Strasbourg, together with the walking-cane which had been +lent to her. + +At this point of her examination the countess essayed what she thought +would prove a grand _coup_, which, bewildering and astonishing her +judges, would make her innocence apparent with due melodramatic effect. +She stated that in the month of March of the year before she went, +accompanied by her niece, a little girl of ten or twelve years of age, +daughter of Madame de la Tour, to the Hôtel de Strasbourg to meet that +great, that extraordinary man, as the cardinal invariably called him, +the Count de Cagliostro, whom she had seen at Strasbourg four years +previously, and who was on the present occasion to exhibit some of +his marvellous performances. She and her niece were conducted to the +cardinal’s sleeping apartment, which was lighted up with twenty or thirty +candles, when Count Cagliostro, calling her niece to him, took her upon +his knee, and made her promise never to reveal to any one what she was +about to see. He then dressed her out with a blue, green, and black +ribbon, and also a white ribbon, to which was attached a cross and a +star, and put on her a white apron covered over with different orders, +and ornamented with beautiful silver lace. He next placed his naked sword +upon her head, and pronounced these words: “I command thee, in the name +of the Great Cofte and of the angels Michael and Raphael to show me what +I shall presently tell thee;” and, taking her niece by the hand, he led +her behind a screen where there was a table and a bottle of very clear +water, on which he made her place her hand. The count then passed to the +other side of the screen, where Madame de la Motte and the cardinal were +seated, and commanded them to keep strict silence. He then pronounced +certain words, of the meaning of which she understood nothing—but which +the cardinal told her were to drive away the evil spirit—and said to her +niece: “Say, ‘I command thee to make me see all that I desire.’ Strike! +What dost thou see? Hold thy hand always upon the bottle. What dost thou +see?” “Nothing, monsieur.” “Strike again. Strike! strike! What dost thou +see? Dost thou not see a woman dressed in white, with a long fair face?” +“Yes, monsieur.” “Who is it? Dost thou not see the queen? Dost thou know +her?” “Yes, monsieur; it is the queen.” “Say again, ‘In the name of the +Great Cofte I command thee to show me all that I shall desire.’ Strike! +What dost thou see, little one? Seest thou not an angel on thy right, +who turns towards thee as though to embrace thee? Seest thou?” “Yes, +monsieur.” “Ah well! embrace him!” + +Some days afterwards the Count de Cagliostro, who was not satisfied with +this _séance_, at which all had not been made visible that he desired, +directed that her niece should be dressed entirely in white, with her +hair hanging loosely down, when he recommenced the same ceremony. The +cardinal, on this occasion, forced her to go behind the screen, and +Cagliostro made her and her niece go upon their knees, after which he +said to the latter: “I ordain thee, &c. What seest thou, little one? Look +at the point of my sword. Dost thou not see some one kneeling? Who is it? +Name them!” “It is my lord cardinal and my aunt.” “What does my lord do?” +“He takes a crown of six livres from a snuff-box which you hold in your +hand.” “What further does he do?” “He takes a crown of three livres out +of the same box.” “What more dost thou see at the point of my sword? Dost +thou not see a magnificent palace and gardens?” “Yes, monsieur.” “Whom +dost thou see there?” “No one, monsieur.” “Look again; look well.” “I +see nothing, monsieur.” Then Cagliostro, finding that she saw nothing, +said to the cardinal: “She is too old, she is not pure. I must have +another child.” To which the cardinal remarked: “I understand, one of +those you know well.” + +Eight days afterwards, Cagliostro went through a similar performance with +two young children by turns, and in the following month there was another +_séance_ at the cardinal’s hôtel, when Cagliostro directed a table to be +taken to one end of the saloon, and a large number of lighted candles +to be placed upon it. He then laid his naked sword, crossing it with a +poignard, in the centre, and arranged around it a quantity of medals, +and the crosses of Jerusalem and St. Andrew, and commanded the countess +to lay her hands upon them, and swear that she would never divulge what +she was about to see and hear, and what was going to be proposed to her. +Then, turning to the cardinal, Cagliostro said to him: “Prince, go now; +go now, prince.” They spoke together in a low tone, and the cardinal +went to his secretary, which stood by the side of his cabinet, and +brought from it a rather large oval-shaped box of white wood, whereupon +Cagliostro said to him: “There is still another; bring it forth.” On +opening these boxes they were both found to be full of diamonds, and the +cardinal then said to her: “Will your husband go to England if I send +him? I will give him two thousand crowns, which he can place with some +banker here for a draft upon London.” Whereupon she asked the cardinal +the name of this banker and his address, to which he replied: “It is +Bergaud (Perregaux), Rue du Sentier; he is my ordinary banker. Here, take +the diamonds; I will settle the price. Impress upon your husband on no +account to sell them without first of all having them set, and tell him +he must not bring any unset ones back with him.” + +The count went to England as the cardinal had suggested, and shortly +afterwards the cardinal said to her, “Write to your husband to send me +what money he has received, for I have some pressing payments to make. +You remember seeing a lady with me during Holy week. I have promised +her five hundred thousand livres. She is a German, and is about to +marry a gentleman of Versailles so as to legitimatise a child of which +I am the father.” On being written to, her husband hastened home again, +bringing with him drafts upon Bergaud (Perregaux) for 121,000 livres, a +medallion set with brilliants valued at one thousand crowns, a pair of +girandole earrings valued at two thousand crowns, a diamond pin, and two +large diamond rings, which, together with the drafts for one hundred and +twenty-one thousand livres, were handed to the cardinal, who returned the +earrings, the pin, and the medallion, saying, “Here, keep these for your +trouble.” She told the cardinal that her husband had left behind him, +in England, a quantity of diamonds to be sold or else set, to which the +cardinal replied, that he would prefer their being sold, but would see +about this on his return from Saverne.[253] + +One can very well understand that on the conclusion of this marvellous +narrative the sitting of the court was adjourned, and that on the +following day Madame de la Motte was asked by her judges what witnesses +she could bring forward in support of the extraordinary statements she +had made. The countess replied there was only the servant who brought +her the first box of diamonds from the cardinal, as the note which +accompanied it had been taken possession of by the Prince de Rohan with +all his other letters to her, when she was confined under lock and key at +the Palais-Cardinal. + +On being asked to account for the opulence which she was known to have +displayed at the very time that she and her husband were, as she said, +selling these diamonds on the cardinal’s behalf, she recapitulated +various presents of money which she affirmed the cardinal had made her; +in addition to which, she said, she had received considerable gifts from +the royal princes and princesses and from ministers of the crown. She +stated that the diamonds which had been handed to her by the cardinal, +including those remaining unsold in England, were of the value of three +hundred and seventy-seven thousand livres; nevertheless these did not +comprise all that belonged to the Necklace sold to the queen, as the +cardinal had given numbers away; and among them, some of the most +beautiful to the lady, whom he wanted to marry to a gentleman attached +to the suite of the Count de Provence, and others to the Countess de +Cagliostro. After having expressly stated that the diamonds she and her +husband disposed of did not comprise all that belonged to the Necklace +sold to the queen, Madame de la Motte maintained, in reply to questions +asked her, that she neither knew nor suspected that any of the diamonds +sold by them formed any portion of the Necklace in question; otherwise +she would have had nothing to do with them, but would have felt it her +duty to have warned the jewellers. When her husband, on seeing such a +large number of unset stones, asked the cardinal where they came from, +the prince replied that they belonged to an old set of jewels which he +had no longer any occasion for now that he was getting old. When reminded +that it was at this very time Laporte had spoken to her of the jewellers’ +inquietude at finding the Necklace was not worn by the queen, Madame +de la Motte observed, that in this case the jewellers ought to have +addressed themselves to the cardinal, particularly as she had warned them +to be cautious. She denied that the cardinal had at any time expressed +astonishment to her at her majesty not wearing the Necklace; the reverse, +indeed, was the fact, it was she who had expressed her astonishment to +the cardinal. + +The countess, as a matter of course, denied having shown to the cardinal +a letter purporting to be from the queen respecting the payment of the +sum of seven hundred thousand livres to the jewellers; she also denied +having given thirty thousand livres to the cardinal to be handed over +to them as interest for the delay in the payment of the instalments. +When asked what she borrowed from thirty to forty thousand livres from +her notary for at this precise date, she was ready with her answer. +It was to oblige the Marchioness de Crussol (the same who went to the +guillotine with Madame Elisabeth, the king’s sister, when these two poor +ladies embraced each other at the foot of the scaffold), who came to her, +and told her of the embarrassing position in which the ambassadress of +Portugal was placed through having pledged her diamonds, which she was +unable to redeem, and which would have been sold if Madame de la Motte +had not furnished the money to take them out of pawn. + +She tried to persuade her judges that the cardinal had called upon +her one morning, and complained to her that he had been duped in +the affair of the Necklace; that he had shown her a letter which he +imagined had come from the queen, containing these words, “Send by the +little countess[254] a sum of money—the amount of which she could not +recollect—for these unfortunates. I should be annoyed if they get into +trouble.” He suspected, however, that the letter was not in the queen’s +handwriting, and that he had been made a dupe of. He paced up and down +the room exclaiming, “Has she deceived me, this little countess? has she +deceived me? Oh, no! I know Madame de Cagliostro too well; she is not +capable of this.” + +On being asked if she knew a certain Dame de Courville, she replied +that she had seen her with the cardinal in holy week the year previous, +and that she knew her as a neighbour living within a few doors of her +own house. She then proceeded to say that this was the same lady the +cardinal desired to marry to a gentleman belonging to the suite of the +Count de Provence, and to whom he had promised to give five hundred +thousand livres. When asked if she knew an individual named Augeard[255] +or one Bette d’Étienville, or one Marsilly, a counsellor, she replied +that she knew none of those persons. This concluded the countess’s first +examination, which lasted from the 20th to the 26th of January, an +entire week, and of which we have given all the chief points to enable +the reader to see the scope and power of Madame de la Motte’s inventive +faculties, and her proficiency in the arts of falsehood and deceit. + +It was now Cagliostro’s turn to be examined. In answer to questions put +to him, he said that he was a professor of medicine, of noble birth, and +had travelled largely in Asia and Africa, as well as Europe, most of the +chief cities of which he had visited. He was intimately acquainted with +the Prince de Rohan, and since his (the count’s) arrival in Paris, on +the 30th of January in the past year, had been in the habit of seeing +him generally three or four times a week. During this period the prince +and his friends had occasionally dined with him at his house in the Rue +Saint-Claude. The Necklace, respecting which so much had been said, was +purchased before this time. He remembered the cardinal expressing certain +doubts to him with regard to the genuineness of the signature affixed +to the contract, when he, sharing in them, advised the grand almoner +to throw himself at the king’s feet and confess everything that had +transpired; but this he resolutely refused to do. + +With regard to the scene at the Hôtel de Strasbourg, described by the +Countess de la Motte, Cagliostro asserted this was merely an attempted +experiment in animal magnetism, in which he was no great believer. The +ribbons which the child was dressed out in were some that were lying +about the apartment. He denied having placed his drawn sword on the +child’s head, and having made use of the words ascribed to him; but +admitted there was a bottle of clear water on which the child placed +her hand. The affair was got up entirely at the instigation of Madame +de la Motte, who displayed great anxiety respecting the forthcoming +accouchement of some great lady, and he performed the experiment in the +hope of calming her. The countess’s story about the table with a large +number of lighted candles upon it, and the naked sword and poignard, and +the crosses of Jerusalem and St. Andrew, had not a particle of truth in +it. He never placed Madame de la Motte’s hand upon these things, and +nothing of what she had described took place. The cardinal did not fetch +any diamonds from his secretary, and, indeed, the whole affair was a +pure piece of invention. The cardinal had given him and his wife a few +articles of jewellery as presents; all these things, and whatever other +diamonds he possessed, had been seized by the police, and were still in +their custody, and could be produced. The cardinal had never given the +Countess de Cagliostro any diamonds forming part of the Necklace, nor any +sum of money arising from the sale of the diamonds. He had never told +the cardinal that his wife was intimate with the queen. She had never +seen the queen, and was never once at Versailles, and could have had no +correspondence with any one for the best of all reasons—she could not +write.[256] + +Cagliostro, in his examination, having stripped the countess’s highly +inventive narrative of its marvellous character, and exposed her +falsehoods with respect to the diamonds, and having, moreover, previously +stated in his memorial that he had cautioned the Cardinal de Rohan to be +on his guard against Madame de la Motte, whom he stigmatized as a wretch, +but that the cardinal would not believe him, the countess’s indignation +knew no bounds. Knowing the doubtful kind of reputation that attached to +Cagliostro, and the peculiar nature of the relations commonly believed +to subsist between him and the cardinal, who, it was thought, aided and +abetted him in his endeavours to discover the philosopher’s stone—it was +commonly reported that Cagliostro had prevailed on the cardinal to obtain +possession of the Necklace, that he might experiment upon the diamonds +and centriple their value[257]—the countess believed she could readily +have diverted not merely suspicion towards the “low empiric,” as she +was now in the habit of styling him, but have induced a firm conviction +of his guilt. This had been her aim from the outset, as is evident from +the insinuations in which she indulged in her memorial with regard to +Cagliostro, whom she, or rather her counsel, introduces in the following +grandiloquent style: + +“His name, his surname, his quality? he and the woman attached to his +fortunes?—The Count and so-called Countess de Cagliostro! + +“His age?—One of his valets said that he knew not the age of his master, +but for himself he had been one hundred and fifty years in his service. +As for the master, he sometimes gave three hundred years as his age, +at other times he said he had assisted at Galilee at the marriage of +Cana.[258] + +“His country?—A Portuguese Jew, or Greek, or Egyptian from Alexandria, +who had brought with him to Europe the sorceries and allegories of the +East. + +“His habits and his religion?—Doctor of the cabalistic art; one of those +extravagant members of the Rosy Cross who profess to raise the dead, and +make them hold converse with the living—masters of all the sciences, +skilled in the transmutation of baser metals into gold—beneficent spirits +who attend the poor for nothing, and sell immortality to the rich. + +“His fortune? in short, his means of supporting that luxurious +ostentation which he has displayed before our eyes?—A sumptuous hôtel, +elegant furniture, a well-supplied table, servants in all sorts of +liveries; and the court of this hôtel always noisy with carriages, +announcing in the midst of an intelligent nation visionaries of every +rank—in a word, Cagliostro, without inheriting anything, without +purchasing anything, without selling anything, without acquiring +anything, is possessed of all. Such is this man. + +“What are his great deeds?—Many are known in the different courts of +Europe, others are known to Madame Böhmer;[259] but let us confine +ourselves to the third filtration of the Necklace, when it is needful +to dispose the Count de la Motte to carry to a foreign country a +considerable quantity of diamonds. This is the grand result furnished by +the crucible of the operator.”[260] + +Cagliostro, it may be observed, was greatly excited on hearing of the +arrest of his wife, and on afterwards learning that she was ill, became +perfectly frantic. He pretended to believe that she was dead or at her +last extremity, and threatened to kill himself if he were not permitted +to see her, or she were not immediately set at liberty.[261] + + + + +XXX. + +1786. FEB.–MARCH. + +THE TRIAL: THE CONFRONTATIONS OF THE ACCUSED WITH EACH OTHER AND WITH THE +WITNESSES. + + +The examinations having at length terminated, the confrontations of the +accused with each other, and with the principal witnesses, now commenced. +At the time these were going on, the accused, in accordance with custom, +were deprived of the assistance of their counsel, who were not permitted +to hold any intercourse whatever with them. Madame de la Motte and the +cardinal were first confronted with each other. The countess describes +being ushered into the hall of the Bastille, and the cardinal making +his appearance shortly afterwards. The oaths having been administered, +the opponents surveyed each other attentively; though, says Madame, the +cardinal, “pretending to amuse himself with his pencil, which he twirled +about in his fingers, affected not to regard me,” and the duello of words +at once began. And it was a mere duello of words, for the real points +of the affair seem hardly to have been touched upon. At the outset the +countess evidently thought she was getting much the best of the contest, +for she observes in her “Life,” that in her replies to the cardinal’s +interrogatories her expressions “were so strongly pointed, so pertinent +and forcible, that every one present gave smiles of approbation.”[262] +When questioned as to whence she derived the means for such an unwonted +display of opulence as she was known to have exhibited, she pointed to +the cardinal, and gave the judges distinctly to understand that the +relations subsisting between them were those of lover and mistress, and +not benefactor and supplicant as had been commonly supposed; hence the +motive for the liberal gifts which she had received at the hands of the +Prince de Rohan.[263] + +As the contest went on, the cardinal, according to Madame’s version, +got some further awkward thrusts which touched him to the quick, and +made him “look uneasy, and turn suddenly pale, and complain of a violent +headache,” which stayed the proceedings for a time. When these were +resumed, the countess thought it necessary to object to what she styles +some impropriety on the part of the cardinal—he put some pertinent +question which it was not convenient for her to answer—whereupon a three +hours’ altercation ensued, during which the plethoric cardinal grew “red +as fire,” while madame, less excited “came off,” she tells us, “with +flying colours,” the judges bestowing upon her “smiles of encouragement.” +Thus ended the first day’s confrontation. + +The day following, the cardinal entered the hall quite chapfallen; +“instead of his former fierce and haughty demeanour, his eyes appeared +to ask pardon, and his countenance was sweet and engaging.”[264] His +“mildness” gave the countess “fresh spirits, and increased her hopes,” +but a scene of wrangling began immediately—each accused the other of +having had the Necklace, and of knowing what had become of it. “At this +moment,” remarks the countess, “I was not mistress of my temper, and +loaded them all with reproaches,” which brought down upon her a severe +reproof from the judges, which did not, she confesses, “in the least tend +to abate her violence.”[265] The second day’s proceedings terminated, +therefore, in a greater tempest than the first had done. + +If we believe what Madame de la Motte says, the cardinal, as the +confrontations progressed, grew quite sentimental. Weak and foolish to +the extreme point of folly we know the grand almoner to have been, still, +now that the film was removed from his eyes, we can hardly credit that he +acted the old dotard’s part as the countess would have us believe. “He +blew me over kisses,” she says, “and when he discovered my eyes turned +aside upon any other object, he played with his pencil to attract my +notice.” At another time, “he clasped his hands eagerly together, and +lifting up his eyes to heaven, ‘Ah!’ exclaimed he, ‘how unhappy we are!’ +He even shed tears.”[266] + +On a subsequent occasion the countess pretends that when they were by +themselves at one end of the hall the cardinal approached her, took her +by the hand, and led her to the fireplace, and that while they were there +standing in an attitude of the most friendly regard, engaged in earnest +conversation, she suddenly rang the bell, which brought in De Launay, +governor of the Bastille, and two of his officers, who surprised them in +the attitude above described. “The lieutenant, De Losme,” she observes, +“could scarce pardon me to see me holding discourse with my executioner, +‘a person,’ said he, with indignation, ‘that endeavours to prove you a +thief;’” and who did, indeed, in due course, not only prove her to be a +thief, but procured her a felon’s punishment. + +Although, according to her own account, these confrontations opened so +triumphantly for her, the countess at their close had lost much of that +confidence which her overweening vanity had led her to feel, and tried +hard to prolong the proceedings by urging that application should be made +to the king for permission for her to send a letter to her husband, “to +engage him to come in person to confront and disprove this preconcerted +system of lying accusations which pretends that he has gone off with a +part of the necklace.” As if the count could not have come forward, and +done all this of his own accord, as he might possibly have been tempted +to do had he not entertained a wholesome fear of the scourge and the +branding-iron, and of being chained to the oar as a galley slave for the +rest of his life. + +Judging from the countess’s report of these confrontations, they would +seem to have been merely a series of wordy wranglings; it is, however, +quite certain that in the course of them many facts damaging to her in +the last degree were brought to light. Her wretched poverty, up to the +very moment when she touched the first fifty thousand livres of the +cardinal’s money, was proved beyond a doubt, as well as the comparative +affluence which she displayed immediately afterwards. And the same with +respect to the almost Oriental style of luxury in which the De la Mottes +commenced to live immediately after the count had returned from England +with the proceeds arising from the sale of the diamonds to the jeweller +Gray. + +The countess in her confrontation with Laporte—who had first mentioned +the Necklace to her, and had introduced her to the crown jewellers—tried +to wheedle him by such a shallow manœuvre as thus addressing him: “I +believe you to be an honest man, Monsieur Laporte. Forget for a moment +that you have made any deposition, and distinctly answer my questions.” +Laporte, however, stuck to his text, and nothing favourable to the +countess could be extracted from him.[267] When she and the Baron de +Planta, the cardinal’s equerry, are brought face to face, he declines +to swear black to be white, and persists in saying that he had himself +carried to her the two several sums of fifty thousand livres and one +hundred thousand livres, for which she had applied to the cardinal in the +queen’s name. “I swear in the presence of justice, and on my honour and +my head,” exclaimed the indignant baron, “that I myself gave you these +amounts from the Cardinal de Rohan to be remitted to the queen;”[268] +whereupon madame pronounces him to be mad, and in proof of her assertion +recounts, with evident unction, the particulars of an attempted +indelicate assault upon her by the baron in the month of October, +1784.[269] Regnier, the goldsmith and jeweller who supplied the De la +Mottes with a service of plate, &c., and received diamonds in discharge +of his account, having given his version of his transactions with the +count and countess, the latter, following her usual system of denial, +contradicts Regnier point blank, whereupon he exhibits the entries in his +books made at the time. She then admits everything, and asks herself, +with seeming astonishment, how it was possible in less than a year for +her to have so far lost her memory.[270] + +The countess, when confronted with Father Loth, loaded him with a +shower of reproaches. “You bad man,” exclaimed she, “it is you who have +led my husband astray; you have introduced him to disreputable women. +You have persuaded him to live on bad terms with me. You have robbed +me.”[271] Grenier, the goldsmith and money-lender, had deposed that +Madame de la Motte had ordered of him two superb robes of Lyons silk, +saying she intended making a present of them to the queen; in reply +to which he had told her point blank that it was not likely she would +dare to take the liberty of making presents to her majesty. Whereupon +the countess remarked, that there was no such ceremony as he supposed +between relations! She had, moreover, told him that she had reinstated +the cardinal in the queen’s good graces, and that her majesty dared +refuse her nothing, and had also shown him a letter which she said had +been written to her by the queen, but which she would not allow him to +read.[272] When brought face to face with Grenier, she exclaimed, “He +has been in the Bastille for fifteen days, and when he comes out his +first act is to depose against me out of revenge, because I once had him +put outside my house, and because it was in relation to me that he was +imprisoned.”[273] + +With regard to her confrontations with the Demoiselle d’Oliva, the +countess complains that questions were put to the latter in such a form +that she had only to answer yes or no. “I did not let this escape me,” +she remarks, “but desired Dupuis de Marcé, one of the reporters of the +case, appointed by the parliament, to suffer her to speak, and not to +be her mouthpiece. He turned red, was stung with rage, and getting up +like a demoniac, put an end to the sitting.”[274] When it was resumed, +and that portion of D’Oliva’s declaration was read which spoke of the +letters, purporting to have been written by the queen, which the countess +had shown her, Madame de la Motte cannot conceal her agitation. She makes +signs to D’Oliva, winks her eyes at her, and finding that she takes no +notice, keeps repeating the action. When charged with this, she replies +in a furious tone of voice, “I make signs to you? Yes, I make you a sign +that you are a monster for having said such a thing.” She then proceeds +to charge D’Oliva with having behaved immodestly when on a visit to +her at Charonne, says she was guilty of positive indecencies, that she +was only a common courtezan, who had been for some time her husband’s +mistress, and who had usurped a title to which she had no claim. She next +enlarged upon D’Oliva’s affairs generally, and spoke of her pecuniary +embarrassments, and of the real and supposed disappointments she had +experienced, with “audacity, arrogance, and fury;” for all of which she +was duly taken to task by D’Oliva’s counsel in a new edition of his +client’s “Mémoire.” “Proud and vile woman,” the memorial proceeds to +say, “who caressed me when I could serve you, who disdained me when I +exposed you, who hate me when I confound you, descend, descend from the +supreme height of your genealogical tree, from whence you brave the law, +impose upon its administrators, and insult by turns your unfortunate +co-accused.”[275] + +As for Cagliostro, on whom and on whose wife the countess had tried her +utmost to shift a portion of her own guilt—out of revenge, we suppose, +for the count having been the first to suggest to the cardinal that she +had tricked him in the Necklace business—he is “this oracle who bewitched +the cardinal’s understanding,” a low alchemist, a false prophet and +profaner of the true religion, a mountebank and a vagabond. To which +Cagliostro pertinently replied, “Not always a false prophet, for had the +Prince de Rohan taken my advice he would have seen through the artifices +of the countess, and neither of us been where we are. To her numerous +calumnies I will content myself with making a laconic reply, the same +that was made by Pascal under parallel circumstances—a reply which +politeness forbids me to make in the vulgar tongue, but which madame’s +counsel will translate for her, _Mentiris impudentissime_.”[276] The +countess, not knowing the meaning of the phrase, imagined, correctly +enough, that it was something exceedingly offensive, and to use her +own language, “put an end to the scene by throwing a candlestick at +the quack’s head! Cagliostro, enraged and foaming at the mouth, said +to me, ‘He will come, thy Villette! he will come! it is he that will +speak!’”[277] + +Referring to her confrontation with Madame Dubarry, the countess +observes, “I cannot withstand the temptation of saying a few words +concerning the part assigned to the ‘queen dowager,’ the immaculate +Dubarry of monastic memory. She stated that I had been at her house to +solicit her protection, and that I had left with her a memorial, signed +‘Marie-Antoinette de France.’ The fact is, I only went to her house out +of curiosity in a good coach and four. Upon her signifying to me that +she thought the branch of Valois had been extinct, I gave her a memorial +of my genealogy, signed ‘_Marie-Antoine_ d’Hozier de Sérigny, Judge of +the Nobility of _France_.’ When confronted with me she assumed an air of +haughtiness and insolence, but I hastened to make her sensible of the +distance between her birth and mine.”[278] This wrangling between such a +pair of demireps must have been highly amusing to all who chanced to be +witnesses of it. + +The cardinal, alluding to the confrontations in one of his memorials, +says that Madame de la Motte generally either cried or went into +convulsions at them, and that with her, audacity, gaiety, and tears +succeeded each other by turns, according as she found herself capable +of sustaining a part, or felt herself forced to succumb to feelings of +remorse and fear.[279] + +During Lent of 1786, while the public excitement with reference to the +Necklace trial was at its height, the Abbé Georgel, grand-vicar to the +cardinal, whose office of grand almoner gave him spiritual jurisdiction +over the royal chapel at Versailles, the Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, +and the Assumption, caused to be printed and posted on the doors of the +churches and sacristies dependent on the grand almonry, a charge, wherein +he quoted the words of St. Paul to his disciple Timothy, exhorting him to +blush neither for his captivity nor for his bonds. Copies of this charge +were even posted in the royal chapel itself. + +The zeal of the Abbé Georgel here carried him a little too far. The king +and queen were deeply irritated, and the Baron de Breteuil sent for the +offender and spoke sharply to him on the subject. Instead of expressing +regret, the faithful grand-vicar, intoxicated with the success he had +already met with in thwarting the enemies of the cardinal, his master, +ventured to brave the minister of justice, replying to his remonstrances +with firmness, and insisting on his right to exercise the powers which +the cardinal had delegated to him. The minister, taken aback at so much +assurance on the part of a mere abbé, required Georgel to furnish him +with an explanation in writing. This the grand-vicar did in the following +terms: + +“I had the honour to observe to you, sir, that monseigneur the cardinal +not being under the bonds of a legal decree, enjoyed, even where he was, +his rights as citizen, bishop, and grand almoner in all their fulness; +that a detention which had not been pronounced by law did not take away +from a prisoner the right to exercise his civil and ecclesiastical +functions; that such an interdiction could be the consequence only +of a decree of banishment or imprisonment; that the grand-vicars of +monseigneur the Cardinal de Rohan, furnished with his powers, were +legally authorized to exercise in his name and under his orders their +respective functions; and that our legal code was precise on the +application of these principles. + +“You then tell me, sir, to send you all these details in writing. I obey +the minister of the king, and shall await with the profoundest respect +the orders of his majesty respecting the conduct which I ought to show in +my quality of grand-vicar.”[280] + +This was another false step on the abbé’s part, for the minister +retaliated by a _lettre-de-cachet_, and the only order the grand-vicar +received from his majesty was a command, dated March 10, 1786, to depart +from Paris within four-and-twenty hours for Mortagne in Brittany. Thus +at a most critical point in the proceedings instituted against him was +the cardinal suddenly deprived of the services of his able and energetic +grand-vicar. + +On the 26th of March, owing to the exertions of Counsellor D’Epréménil, +who pressed her case on the attention of the parliament, the Countess +de Cagliostro succeeded in regaining her liberty after upwards of +seven months’ confinement in the Bastille; and about this time the +women of Paris, who were great partisans of the cardinal’s during the +entire period of his imprisonment, took to wearing in their toilettes +a combination of scarlet and straw-colour ribbons, jocularly entitled +“cardinal on the straw”—meaning the cardinal in prison. Grand dames of +fashion, too, at the Easter promenade of Longchamp, came out in straw +bonnets with scarlet crowns, and trimmed with scarlet ribbon, which +Mademoiselle Bertin, the queen’s milliner—at this moment out of favour at +court—had introduced under the name of _chapeaux au Cardinal_.[281] + + + + +XXXI. + +1786. APRIL–MAY. + +ARREST OF THE FORGER VILLETTE—HIS EXAMINATIONS AND CONFRONTATIONS. + + +It is now that Rétaux de Villette is unearthed with the Abbé Georgel’s +sleuth-hounds in full cry. Tracked from town to town, and from village to +village, he is at length run down at Geneva, having, says one account, +since the news of the Necklace affair, crossed the Swiss frontier, +assumed various disguises, and turning his musical talents to account, +acted the part of a vagrant musician, playing on his mandoline along the +streets and highways to amuse the passers-by. One version of his capture +represents him as having been trepanned in some low Geneva tavern, whilst +overcome by drink, into enlisting in some phantom regiment, by which +adroit manœuvre he was enticed from off the “sacred republican soil,” +and carried away to Paris in triumph.[282] Another version affirms that +he had got mixed up in a local brawl at the time the abbé’s emissaries +pounced upon him, which is likely to be the truer statement of the two, +as it is corroborated by his own account of his arrest. “A disturbance,” +he says, “probably brought about by design, arose in the public streets +between two Geneva watchmakers. A Frenchman, witness of the affair, +interposed as peace-maker; whereupon he was seized, together with the +two disputants. ‘Where do you come from?’ was asked of him. ‘From +Lyons.’ ‘Ah! there has been a great robbery recently committed there. +What brought you to Geneva?’ ‘Nothing.’ ‘What is your name?’ ‘Rétaux +de Villette.’ ‘To prison with him!’ A few days afterwards an inspector +of police arrived from Paris, and carried off the prisoner to the +Bastille.”[283] + +This must have been about the commencement of April, and no sooner did +Villette find himself within the grip of the French police for the +second time than he became quite chapfallen. On the road to Paris he +was low-spirited to a degree, constantly speaking of himself as a lost +man, as a victim about to be sacrificed. His distress, he tells us, was +“aggravated by the jokes of the officers, in which they appeared to +take a malicious pleasure.”[284] Now and then when cheered with wine +he would chat confidentially with police-inspector Quidor concerning +his _liaisons_ with Madame de la Motte, and would let fall scraps of +information respecting the “_belle demoiselle_” of the Palais Royal, the +part she played at the midnight meeting at Versailles, and the influence +which the countess exercised over the Prince de Rohan; but with regard +to everything that related to the Necklace, and the _billets-doux_—“gilt +edged,” or bordered with “vignettes bleues,”—and the forged signature to +the contract with the jewellers, he preserved a discreet silence. + +When housed within the gloomy walls of the Bastille he became slightly, +but only slightly, more communicative. He railed at his former mistress +for having been the cause of his ruin; described how he came to Paris to +obtain a situation in the marshalsea, when, unfortunately for him, he +fell into the snares of the siren, who, by pretending to have influence +in high quarters, won his confidence, and by promising to do something +better for him than his modest expectations led him to hope for, induced +him to relinquish all idea of the post he was on the point of securing. +Being frequently at her house, the countess employed him in drawing up +and copying memorials setting forth the claims of the house of Valois, +and asking sometimes for restitution, and at others for pecuniary +assistance; also memorials on behalf of individuals in whom Madame de la +Motte took an interest, addressed either to the ministers, or to persons +in high official positions, from whom places were solicited for the +applicants. + +At his first examination Villette confessed absolutely nothing but what +he was well aware was already known beyond the possibility of doubt. +For instance, he admitted that he was acquainted with Mademoiselle +d’Oliva, and that he accompanied the count and her to Versailles on a +particular day, in the evening of which she was dressed out, and went +with the countess to the park, where he and the count also proceeded. In +substance he admitted the acting of the part of the queen by D’Oliva, +who left the park with him and the count—the countess going off with +the Cardinal de Rohan and the Baron de Planta. Villette scrupulously +avoided everything like an admission of having written any letters for +the countess. He denied having written a letter for D’Oliva to give to +the cardinal, or one for the countess to read to D’Oliva as though it +were from the queen. He believed D’Oliva was paid for the part she acted, +but did not know the amount; he himself carried her three hundred livres +on one occasion. When questioned respecting the Necklace, he replied +that he knew absolutely nothing about it, nor of the negotiation for its +purchase, nor of the letters said to have passed between the cardinal and +the queen relative to this purchase. He confessed he was very frequently +at Versailles, but could not tell whether he was there on the particular +day the Necklace is said to have been delivered. At any rate he knew +nothing of the circumstances connected with its delivery, was not the +bearer of any letter respecting it, and certainly did not write any such +letter. Was not aware of the Necklace being taken to pieces, though he +admitted having had some diamonds given to him to sell. Did not know the +object of the count’s journey to London; was not aware that he sold any +diamonds there, or that he returned to Paris with letters of credit for a +considerable amount. He admitted having assumed the name of Augeard, but +only as a disguise for carrying on intrigues with women. + +Villette of course utterly denied all knowledge of the signature to the +contract, but when asked if he thought the cardinal was able to discern +whether the signature was genuine, he replied, that for his own part, +without possessing the intelligence of the cardinal, had he been in his +place he would not have been duped. During the time he was in familiar +intercourse with the De la Mottes they appeared, he said, to live like +persons of means, but he knew nothing of their sources of income. With +respect to their opulence, although he had witnessed it, he had never +shared it, save as a hanger-on—a guest who always had a seat at their +table. With regard to the De la Mottes’ motive for leaving Paris in +August last, he understood from madame that her circumstances were +embarrassed. He admitted having received four thousand livres from +madame, but only as a loan to enable him to visit Italy, where he had +long desired to go; and confessed to having slept part of the night in +a cabriolet in the courtyard of the De la Motte hôtel ere setting forth +on his journey early on the following morning. Finally he stated that +he had had no correspondence with the De la Mottes subsequent to his +departure.[285] + +Less than a month’s reflection in the Bastille seems to have sharpened +Rétaux de Villette’s memory on several essential points, for he writes +a letter to the Count de Vergennes, in which he confesses everything +except the receipt of the casket containing the Necklace; this he +persisted in denying to the last. In consequence of this letter he is +again brought up for examination, when, the contract being produced +and shown to him, he admits the words “approuvé” and the signature to +have been written by himself alone, not in imitation, however, of the +queen’s handwriting, but in his own ordinary hand.[286] It was done, he +said, at the request of Madame de la Motte, and on her assurance that +it was to oblige the cardinal. He also confessed to having written, at +the countess’s dictation, all the _billets-doux_—gilt-edged, or bordered +with _vignettes bleues_—which purported to have been addressed by the +queen to the Prince de Rohan, and two letters in particular, in which the +queen charged Madame de la Motte to ask the cardinal, in her name, first +of all for sixty (fifty) thousand livres, and secondly for one hundred +thousand livres, for an immediate payment the queen had to make.[287] +Villette positively denied having been the bearer of a billet purporting +to have been written by the queen on the evening of the 2nd of February, +and of receiving the casket containing the Necklace, and he complacently +referred to the striking difference that existed between the individual +indicated by the Cardinal de Rohan and himself. The former, he remarked, +had big black eyebrows, a pale thin face, and slender figure; whereas his +eyebrows were light, his face full and somewhat rubicund, and his figure +inclined to be portly. With regard to the Necklace, he knew that it had +been broken up, and that the diamonds intrusted to him to sell formed +part of it, but he denied having had any of the diamonds given to him, or +of having received money from Madame de la Motte for appending the forged +signature to the contract. “It is true she has lent me money,” observed +he, “and I have kept a note of it, but whenever I have spoken to madame +on the subject she has always been polite enough to say that she did not +wish the matter mentioned.” Finally, he expressed his firm belief that +Cagliostro was entirely innocent of any complicity in the affair.[288] + +The countess now undergoes a second examination at which she denies that +Villette wrote any letters to the cardinal in the name of the queen. +Having had time to reflect upon the weight of evidence against her, +she now admits the truth of the statement with respect to the meeting +between the cardinal and D’Oliva in the park of Versailles, but pretends +the affair was a mere pleasantry got up to quiet the restless cardinal. +She still denied that she had applied to him for the several sums of +fifty thousand and one hundred thousand livres, and maintained that she +had never received these amounts. Denied, moreover, having ever seen +the contract with the jewellers, and having got Villette to sign the +same. When told that Villette had confessed, she simply replied that she +could not conceive his motive for stating the signature to be his; said +she first knew of the signature being forged when the cardinal showed +her part of a note written by the queen. Next day, after having again +reflected, we find her adhering to her text, and contenting herself with +remarking that Villette had been overpersuaded to say that he signed the +document, and by her orders. + +At Rétaux de Villette’s first confrontation with the countess, after +making the damaging admissions which he had done, he seems to have given +way to feelings of remorse at having betrayed, as he says, “a woman whom +I loved to adoration, and who had loaded me with benefits.” He declared +that De Launay, Dupuis de Marcé, Fremyn, the Count de Vergennes, and +others, had forced him to assert, with the view of saving himself, that +the countess alone had instigated him to write the false signature of the +queen so as to cheat the cardinal, whereupon the sitting was immediately +broken up without giving him time to finish what he was about to say.[289] + +When confronted, however, with Madame de la Motte on a subsequent +occasion, he tries his hardest, though in vain, to induce her to speak +the truth. He told her that her denials could be no longer accepted as +proofs while he, the principal agent, and other witnesses were giving +her the lie. “You will not see,” he continued, “that everybody accuses +you, and that your voice necessarily loses its power. It is useless to +deny that the cardinal, you, and I are culpable in this affair. You seek +to destroy the avowal which I make of my own guilt. You say that I lie +when I accuse myself of forgery. You ruin yourself in acting thus, and +evidently do not understand your own interests.”[290] + +Madame, however, conceived that she did, and was prepared with her +rejoinder, which she made with all the tact and vehemence of the +professional advocate. “The observations,” remarked she, “that M. +Villette has made are only made to frighten me. I fear nothing, and am +perfectly calm. To all his remarks I persist in replying that I neither +urged him to write the signature nor the ‘_approuvés_,’ nor any other +similar writing purporting to come from the queen. If M. Villette is good +enough to say that he has written the signature and the ‘_approuvés_,’ it +is owing to the fear with which he has been inspired on being told that +his ordinary handwriting bore so striking a resemblance to the signature +appended to the document, and that he would be certain to be condemned, +by reason of this resemblance alone, to corporal punishment. He has been +told that if he confessed to this, his punishment would be materially +lightened. This is what has caused him to make the confession, which I +maintain is false.... I repeat that I am in nowise guilty. I await with +calmness the punishment that may be awarded me, and I ask no grace. + +“With regard to M. le Cardinal, whom M. Villette has just said he +believed to be as guilty as we two, I shall not charge myself with his +defence, nor with that of any other person, not knowing whether he is +guilty or no. If I were in possession of any secret that would tell +against the cardinal in the Necklace affair I should not hide it, because +for a long time past he has caused me much suffering. As for myself, I +again say that I have no confession to make, as M. Villette pretends I +have, for I am not guilty, and I am persuaded that he is no more guilty +than myself. If I were guilty I would make a confession, in the hope that +my punishment would be less grave. As it is, I could only make a false +confession; and although M. Villette tells me that every proof has been +obtained against me, and that I have only my bare assertions to oppose +to these, I repeat again that I leave my judges at liberty to find me +guilty, still asserting that I am innocent and free from crime.”[291] + +With this smart peroration of madame’s the confrontations were brought +to a close, and the accused were remanded back to their several quarters +in the gloomy old fortress to await the next step which the law would in +due course take. The revelations of D’Oliva, and more particularly those +of Villette, by utterly changing the aspect of things, had sadly weakened +the countess’s confidence in her line of defence, and the hold which she +believed she had on the sympathy of the public. To retain so much of the +latter as was possible, she published a third memorial, or summary, as +it was called—her second was simply a rejoinder to Cagliostro—made up, +as was her custom, of an artful combination of ingenious fallacies well +calculated to perplex, if not to delude, the understanding. + +M. Feuillet de Conches has, among his collection of autographs, +an extensive MS. in the countess’s handwriting, consisting of her +observations upon the various “Mémoires” issued on behalf of her +co-accused, and of reports of what passed at her own examinations and +confrontations. This was evidently prepared for the use of her advocate, +M. Doillot, who drew up her memorials from materials she supplied him +with, and whom it is quite certain, from the evidence furnished by this +MS., Madame de la Motte did not scruple to attempt to deceive, just as +she tried to deceive her judges, and, indeed, every one else with whom +she came in contact.[292] + + “Her foot on earth, her forehead in the skies, + Things done relates, not done she feigns, + And mingles truth with lies.” + +In neither of the countess’s memorials does she seek in any way to +implicate Marie-Antoinette, nor make the least claim to that intimacy +with royalty which she subsequently maintained in her “Mémoires +Justificatifs” with such wanton audacity, and again in her “Life, +written by herself,” but lays everything to the charge of the cardinal, +fascinated, deluded, and overruled by Cagliostro. As a type of the +depravity of the human heart when no moral laws restrain its licence, +a book more astounding and impudent than “The Life of Jeanne de St. +Remi de Valois, Countess de la Motte,”—from which, in the course of our +narrative, we have extracted everything of the least importance wearing +an air of truth—was, perhaps, never written. + +New memorials, however, were of no use now. Her game, which had been most +audaciously played, was played out. People of every class turned against +her. The queen and the cardinal were no longer victims to that prejudiced +and hastily-formed opinion which, without waiting for the pleadings of +the lawyers or the verdict of a jury, passes sentence beforehand. Alone +and apart from even her fellow-prisoners, this powerful impostor stood +detected as the liar, the swindler, the thief, the contriver of the +plot, the single and crafty director of a complicated fraud. And the +man who was the first to betray her, and “whose villany and diabolical +machinations,” to quote the countess’s own words, had caused all this to +come to light, had been one of her familiars—friends she could hardly be +said to have had—a constant hanger-on at her house, an almost daily guest +at her table, “who, by way of rendering himself necessary,” says the +countess, “pretended that, as my husband and I were young people, it was +requisite we should have some trusty person to superintend our domestics. +He superintended, and had the disposal of everything in the house, +and when I went into the country he had all the keys, and the care of +paying my servants.”[293] Recalling all this to mind in her “Life,” the +countess heaps on Father Loth some of her choicest expletives—“serpent” +and “viper” being the most favourite. He is, for instance, “the serpent +that stung me to the heart;” “the serpent that darted his envenomed +sting against me;” “the dangerous viper that stung the bosom that +cherished it;” “this disgrace to human nature;” “this iniquitous monk, +who embezzled my money and my watch;” “this perjured and malignant monk;” +“this solitary savage;” “this dexterous hypocrite;” “this hypocritical, +this notorious villain;” “this monster,” “this profligate and abandoned +wretch;” “this wretch who has violated every moral obligation.”[294] + +The countess’s confederates had confessed themselves guilty, but there +was this excuse for them—they were merely her tools and instruments. +Villette, in his time of tribulation, might well protest that he was +not that great friend and confidant of Madame de la Motte which he was +represented to be, for, said he, “_she had no friends, and her confidence +never was bestowed absolutely on any one_.” She merely instructed her +instruments in what was necessary to the parts they had to perform, and +kept the secret of the combinations entirely to herself.[295] D’Oliva +had captivated the public by her ingenuous explanation of a stratagem +which, it was evident to every one, she had had no share in conceiving +or conducting to its issue, although she had taken a part in it. And as +to the forger Villette, he had rendered so great a service to the law by +his complete exposure of the crime which had been committed, and had so +disarmed resentment by his apparent contrition, as to call forth towards +himself a kind of latent pity, in which contempt and disgust were to some +extent mingled. + +With regard to the countess, nothing seemed capable of subduing the +wanton energy of this bold bad spirit. Confronted alternately with the +cardinal, with the girl D’Oliva, with Cagliostro, and with Rétaux de +Villette, besides several minor witnesses, she stood, as we have seen, +face to face with them, unabashed against them all. At first she denied +everything; accused them of the very crimes she had herself committed; +charged them with inventing, conducting, and executing the fraud from +first to last; even swore that her two chief confederates, standing there +as witnesses against her, had been suborned by the relations of the +cardinal, and had formed a conspiracy to shift their own dishonour upon +her. She told her judges to remember that she was a Valois, descended +from the princes who had formerly reigned over them. Perching herself on +this imaginary pedestal, she seemed to forget that she was a prisoner on +her trial before the country, and thundered her denunciations against her +fellow-prisoners in the loudest key, every eye shrinking and quailing +beneath her own. Her judges were for the moment amazed and overawed by +an assurance which far surpassed anything hitherto seen in a court of +justice, whilst the cardinal respectfully styled her “madame” whenever he +addressed her. + +Every time she was called upon to explain some circumstance with +reference to which the statements of the rest of the accused tallied +and directly contradicted her own assertions, those present glanced at +one another expecting that she would be mute at last, and yield to the +weight of evidence against her. But no; her fertile invention, like that +of Napoleon at Marengo, supplied her at a moment’s warning with some new +combination. When asked to explain the source whence she had derived the +means of supporting her extravagant expenditure during her twelve months +of display, she replied that she had met with princely benefactors. The +Cardinal de Rohan had alone given her 203,720 livres. Observing the +looks of incredulity with which this statement was received, to account +for the cardinal’s unheard-of liberality, she explained to her judges +that relations of a very tender nature existed between her and the grand +almoner.[296] She asserted, moreover, that she had got up the scene with +D’Oliva in the park of Versailles to revenge herself upon the cardinal +for an infidelity of which he had been guilty.[297] Among her other +“princely benefactors” she enumerated Madame, the Countess de Provence, +who, she stated, had given her 13,200 livres, while the Duke d’Orléans +had given her 12,000 livres, the Duke and Duchess de Chartres 26,000, the +Duke de Choiseul 12,000, the Duke de Penthièvre 8,400, M. de Castries +3,000, and the contrôleur-général 6,000. All these statements were of +course false. For instance, the Countess de Provence had only given her +twelve or fifteen louis, and this immediately after the fainting scene, +we imagine; the contrôleur-général had given her about fifty louis; +and M. de Castries eight hundred, instead of three thousand livres. M. +d’Ormesson, whose name she does not mention, said he had sent her a few +louis _by the hands of the police_; while, as regards the eight thousand +four hundred livres which she pretended she had received from the Duke de +Penthièvre, the chief of his council, the Abbé de Noir, who happened to +be present, rose up and indignantly declared the countess’s assertion to +be false.[298] Being asked to explain what she had done with the 150,000 +livres extorted from the Cardinal de Rohan in August and October, 1784, +in the queen’s name, Madame de la Motte calmly smiled, and with a look of +offended dignity and wounded innocence, vowed that she had never so much +as seen the money. + +As each damaging fact came to light the countess did not content herself +with launching tirades of abuse merely against the witnesses, “who +swore,” she tells us, “precisely what the cardinal’s advocates pleased +to put into their mouths.” According to her own admissions, she on more +than one occasion abused her judges to their faces,[299] while behind +their backs she heaped upon them every variety of vituperative epithet. +Commissary Chénon was “a wretch and a cunning dissembler;”[300] Fremyn +was her “inveterate enemy;”[301] Dupuis de Marcé was “bought over,” +was a “creature of the house of Rohan,” was “a monster,” “a sly and +venomous serpent,” “a perfidious miscreant,” and “prevaricated to a +scandalous excess.”[302] Both he and Fremyn were “dissemblers,” both +“would convict the innocent rather than hear the truth;” “every ray of +evidence which would have made in my favour was refracted and broken +by the medium through which it passed;”[303] both had “the villany to +alter and interpolate the records.”[304] She further accused the deputy +procureur-général and the judges of having “caballed against her;”[305] +maintained that even the registrar, Le Breton, was “in the cardinal’s +interest.”[306] So, too, was the governor of the Bastille, rigorous old +De Launay, to whom she moreover applies the epithet of “this perfidious +governor.”[307] + +While these examinations were proceeding, and when it was perfectly +well known that Count de la Motte was residing in security on the +other side of the Channel, an abundance of legal formalities were gone +through to ensure his arrest, had he only happened to have been within +the jurisdiction of the Paris Parliament. For instance, on the 15th of +December, 1785, a writ of capture of the count’s body was decreed, and +on the 15th of the following January, Regnault, “huissier of our said +court,” was despatched to Bar-sur-Aube to execute the writ in question. +On the 13th of February it was ordered that the said Marc-Antoine-Nicolas +de la Motte should be summoned that day se’nnight by public proclamation, +to have law and justice done upon him, which summoning accordingly +took place in the town of Bar-sur-Aube, and subsequently at Paris, “by +Simonin, sole sworn crier of the king, provost and viscount of Paris, +and huissier of the Châtelet of Paris, accompanied by Regnault, huissier +of our said court.”[308] Count de la Motte, however, failed to put in an +appearance at either place. + + + + +XXXII. + +1786. MAY 29, 30. + +THE CONCIERGERIE.—BEFORE THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT, GRAND CHAMBER, AND +“TOURNELLE.” + + +At eight o’clock on the night of the 29th of May, 1786, while the +countess was quietly seated at supper, the gaoler of the Bastille burst +into her room with the disagreeable intelligence that her business, +“which looked a devilish bad affair indeed, was likely to be terminated +_à la grève_” (that is, by the gallows). “Hold you in readiness at +eleven o’clock,” said he, “for they will begin with you.” At eleven, +accordingly, she was conducted to the council hall, where, after being +searched by the _huissiers de la chaîne_, she was taken in a coach to +the Conciergerie, that grim, grey stone building, at the river’s brink, +on the Ile de la Cité, whose time-worn, massive, conical-capped round +towers frown disdainfully upon the crowd of handsome modern buildings +around,—the one unrestored specimen of mediæval architecture of the least +importance in all Paris.[309] To this same dismal prison some six years +subsequently, Marie-Antoinette herself was sent, quitting it only when +she went forth to die upon the scaffold. + +“Released from the Bastille,” says Madame de la Motte, “Paris appeared +to me superb, but our journey seemed extremely short. It was near +midnight. All the front yard before the court of the Palais de Justice +was illuminated, as well as the court itself; it was as light as day. The +palace was amazingly crowded; all the guard were under arms. An officer +came to give me his arm to alight from the carriage. I was conducted +to a large hall, which they call the _greffe_, whither I was attended +by four or five hundred persons. All the passages, the tables, every +place was crowded.... I listened with pleasure to a profusion of civil +things that were said to me by the surrounding multitude, many of whom +expressed very warm and sincere wishes for my success, and seemed much +pleased at the manner in which I returned their civilities. About two +o’clock, finding myself fatigued, I expressed a desire to take some rest; +and after paying my respects to this numerous company, the keeper’s wife +conducted me to the apartment prepared for my reception.”[310] + +At six o’clock the Parliament, both Grand Chamber and Tournelle,[311] +began to assemble. The princes and princesses of the house of Condé, +allied to that of the cardinal, and of the houses of Rohan, Soubise and +Guéménée, had gone into mourning, and thus significantly attired, placed +themselves in a line in the corridor along which the councillors of the +Grand Chamber had to pass, so that they might salute them as they entered +the hall.[312] When they arrived, Madame de Marsan, pointing to the +cardinal’s assembled relatives, said to the councillors—“Gentlemen, you +are about to judge the whole of us.”[313] Upwards of sixty judges took +their seats. The sittings were long and numerous, as it was necessary to +read over the reports of the previous proceedings. A master of requests, +a friend of the cardinal’s, took notes of all that the judges said +while this was going on, and passed them to the cardinal’s counsel, who +found means of communicating with the prisoner, and of advising him as +to the course he should pursue when under examination. The counsellor +d’Epréménil too, a warm partisan of the grand almoner’s, likewise +apprised his friends of many particulars which it was important for them +to be acquainted with.[314] + +The countess was in readiness, in the event of being summoned, by about +half-past six o’clock. “It has been said,” remarks she, “that I was +tricked out and dressed; but the truth is, I had plain cambric linen, a +cambric cloak, and for a bonnet a half-undress gauze, without ribbons, +and was even without powder in my hair. The gauze cap which I wore on +my head very little squared with the ridiculous assertion that I was +dressed. They began with poor Oliva,[315] who was delayed with her child. +[She had given birth to an infant since her arrest.] The keeper’s wife, +to whom I expressed a desire to see her, brought her to my chamber, +which was very near. I consoled the mother, but I gently reproved her +for the wrongs she had done me in following so blindly the advice of her +advocates relative to the supposed letter of the queen which she said I +had shown her.”[316] + +The countess is mistaken in supposing that D’Oliva was the first to be +interrogated. It was Villette who had that honour. He entered the hall +and took his place on the _sellette_ with “his eyes bathed in tears,” +and during his examination showed more good faith and repentance than +he had heretofore done, avowing all his crimes without the slightest +reserve. It was remarked, however, that for the first time he seemed +anxious to accuse the cardinal, whom he had previously sought to shield, +by maintaining that he had been the dupe of the falsehoods and intrigues +of Madame de la Motte. Villette’s examination was soon over, and between +ten and eleven o’clock the keeper of the Conciergerie and his son +conducted the countess up “the little staircase,” which all criminals +were obliged to ascend. Fremyn, “the dissembler,” then came forward and +took her hand, and led her to the hall where the judges were assembled. +In this well-known apartment of the ancient Palais de Justice, where in +the early days of the French monarchy the kings of the Capetian race were +accustomed to keep their court, the Grand Chamber of the Paris Parliament +had held its sittings for upwards of a century; and here it was that, +under the presidency of the king, the famous _lits de justice_ were +likewise held. At the present day the Court of Cassation, the supreme +court of appeal in France in matters criminal as well as civil, holds its +“solemn audiences” in this celebrated chamber, the interior of which, +in this renovating age, has not a single trace of its ancient mediæval +character remaining to it.[317] + +“The appearance of the hall, crowded as it was in every part, was to me,” +remarks Madame de la Motte, “a most tremendous sight; it was an awful, +an alarming crisis. It is here that, accused without guilt, I was tried +without justice, and condemned without proof, the accusation against me +being supported on the narrow foundation of false testimony, apparent +even to my very judges as contradictory and replete with absurdity. Too +soon I understood the ambiguous meaning of my counsel, who, in attempting +to prepare me for the occasion, had spoken to me of the ‘_sellette_.’ I +heard a number of voices tending to encourage me, and striving to inspire +me with confidence. ‘Must I then occupy this seat?’ exclaimed I; ‘must +I be forced into this _sellette_, formed only for the reception of the +guilty?’ Agitated by the most heartrending sensations, I remained a long +time in a most dreadful situation, my knees knocking together, and +my whole frame trembling with agitation, and feeling myself unable to +articulate a single syllable. At length, but I scarce know how, I found +myself seated, overwhelmed with shame at finding myself surrounded by +such a number of judges, by such a crowd of spectators.”[318] + +Such is the account which the countess herself gives of this incident. A +contemporary record of the proceedings states, however, that she seated +herself in the _sellette_ with an impudent air, which she maintained +throughout the two hours she was under examination, and indeed until she +quitted this seat of shame.[319] After she was seated she heard, she +says, “a general cry, which was re-echoed throughout the hall: ‘Proceed, +proceed, madame; take courage!’ This encouragement, from so many of my +judges, supported my sinking spirits; their looks animated me, and by +degrees I was in a condition to answer them with that _consistency of +truth and energetic fortitude which innocence alone inspires_. + +“So great was the malice of Fremyn against me that he could not help +exhibiting, even in the very face of my judges, a degree of rudeness and +indelicacy which, upon such an occasion, in such a situation, but ill +became him. This man came up to me rudely and desired me to take off +my hood. I looked at him very attentively, and said, ‘Even before this +august assembly you prove at this very moment how much you are my enemy.’ +The assembly applauded what I said, and remonstrated with an air of +disapprobation, ‘Oh! why do you so? Let the lady wear her calash.’ + +“The chief president, M. d’Aligre, now read to me my first interrogatory, +which was expressed in so very few words that my judges could not +determine from my reply whether I was innocent or not. ‘I should wish,’ +I remarked, ‘that my judges would interrogate me upon those points +which have relation to the Necklace; to these I am particularly anxious +to reply, that I may have an opportunity of demonstrating what I have +already advanced, what I have above a hundred times repeated, and +what I have never swerved from.’ The judges all exclaimed that I was +right, and were unanimously agreed to make some additions to the first +interrogatory, which did not mention a syllable of the leading point of +accusation—the Diamond Necklace. ‘The cardinal has stated,’ said they, +‘that he brought the Necklace himself to your house at Versailles, and +that he waited in an alcove till the arrival of a person who was to +fetch it on the part of the queen; that you insinuate it was one of her +majesty’s pages; that this man, as described by the cardinal, is very +dark, has large black eyebrows, thin and tall, with large black eyes, his +figure extremely slender. The cardinal observes also, that the alcove was +about half open.’ + +“‘Absurdities like these, gentlemen,’ rejoined I, ‘raise my indignation, +and I am convinced they will have a similar effect upon you.’ I then +pointed out the contradictions in the cardinal’s assertions, explaining +how, when he saw M. Villette at the confrontation, he immediately said +that he recollected his profile, and that he was the very same person +to whom I gave the Necklace; M. Villette being, in every respect, +diametrically the reverse of the cardinal’s description. I called the +particular attention of my judges to this circumstance, as it showed them +the kind of reliance they could place on the remainder of the cardinal’s +allegations. ‘Even if there did come a man, as the cardinal pretends,’ +I went on to say, ‘does it wear a semblance of propriety, that if he +brought a letter or note written to me, the cardinal should act upon +that, even although the note should say the bearer was to be trusted +with the jewels in question? Now the cardinal ought not to have returned +me this note, which would then have become a receipt for him; both this +note and the other, which mentions the receipt of the jewel, saying, “it +is superb,” and which MM. St. James, Bassenge, and Böhmer, all depose to +having seen in the cardinal’s hands. I request him to bring these letters +before my judges, as well as two hundred others which he has read to me, +and told me that they all came from the queen; and ask that he should be +called upon to declare whether these letters were written by M. Villette. +I hope you will emphatically insist that the cardinal shall produce them +to the court, to be compared with that same _approuvé_ of the contract +with the jewellers, which Villette himself confesses to have written. If +my judges will take the trouble to examine these, I dare affirm that they +will find letters in three different hands, but not a single one in the +hand of M. Villette.’ + +“‘Messieurs St. James and Böhmer have deposed that they have read a +letter in the hands of the cardinal upon the terrace at Versailles, +containing this expression: “I am perfectly contented with the jewel; it +is superb,” &c. These persons have further deposed that the cardinal at +the same time informed them that this letter came from the queen; and +I, for my part, gentlemen, repeat what I have previously deposed,[320] +and do now positively affirm and most solemnly declare, that I have also +seen—that I have also myself read that letter.’ + +“The president then asked me if I really believed that letter came from +the queen as well as the two hundred other letters which the cardinal +showed me. I replied, that ‘the cardinal had given me his confidence and +trusted me with his secrets. During the whole time I was so intrusted, he +told me that he had seen the queen, and received letters from her;’ which +was all I could, consistent with delicacy and propriety, permit myself to +say. + +“I had scarce uttered these words, when four abbés all rose up at once, +though at some distance from each other, and began their speeches +together. Nothing was to be heard but the hoarse jargon of contention. +At length the discord abated, and the three gave way to the first; but +as his question was of no consequence, I did not condescend to make +any reply. At this, many persons present significantly shrugged their +shoulders. The second and third were of a piece with the first; the +fourth, as having more pretension to wit, I thought it necessary to reply +to. This was the Abbé Sabattier, whose stentorian voice almost shook the +foundations of the hall. ‘The countess,’ said he, ‘pretends that she has +not interfered in any way concerning the sale of the Necklace. Why, then, +when she was asked, “Who those persons were she had at her table?” did +she reply that “They were persons with whom she had business?” I maintain +that this answer goes to prove that she has been concerned in the sale +of the Necklace; for if it were not to treat with them respecting it, +why should she have any business with them?’ I looked at this great and +penetrating genius with all that admiration which so shrewd a remark was +entitled to. ‘The question,’ said I, ‘that the Abbé Sabattier puts to me +is destitute of common sense; it is, therefore, unnecessary to reply to +it.’ All the voices then raised themselves with one accord, bawling to +the registrar, ‘Write down what madame says, that the Abbé Sabattier’s +question is unworthy an answer, and has in it neither reason nor common +sense!’ + +“The abbé, a good deal nettled, exclaimed, loudly, ‘Gentlemen, I have a +right to speak without being an object of derision, however much what +I may have said may amuse you.’ At this they all burst into a roar of +laughter. As soon as they had finished exercising their risibility, +‘Gentlemen,’ said I, ‘the questions of Messieurs the abbés do not in the +least surprise me. I am forewarned that these gentlemen, who are about +five in number, have had some hopes of recruiting their party by the +addition of a sixth, and that all will give their votes in favour of the +cardinal.’ The registrar was now ordered, with a great deal of solemnity, +to read to me the question of this aforesaid sagacious abbé, whom I +answered in the following manner:— + +“‘Gentlemen, the jewellers have indeed charged me in their depositions, +but in their confrontations, where they were with me face to face, they +have discharged me, since in carrying them the cardinal’s note which +requested their address, Bassenge admits that I desired him to use +particular caution in dealing with the cardinal. I ask my judges if the +jewellers are under no obligation to me, however slight it may be? Am +I not the primary cause of the sale of the Necklace [no doubt of it, +and the jewellers must indeed have felt greatly obliged to the countess +for the share she had altogether in the business], since it was to the +cardinal I spoke of it, who purchased it, he says, for the queen? Laporte +himself positively deposed that I had told him above a hundred times +that I would have nothing to do with the sale of the Necklace, and even +that I absolutely rejected the offer of two hundred thousand livres in +diamonds. I would further observe to my judges, that if I had wished to +have appropriated the Necklace to my own use, I should certainly, in that +case, have accepted the jewellers’ offer, so as to conceal my intention +of stealing the Necklace.’ + +“M. de Bretignières, honorary counsellor, who sat near me, now asked +me a question. ‘Since then, madame,’ said he, ‘you have read and seen +such a great number of letters in the cardinal’s hands, you can tell +us what they contained, and if the cardinal answered them?’ I replied, +that the question was extremely indiscreet and dangerous, and that it +had better be put to the cardinal, who could be commanded to produce +these letters, in which case the counsellor could satisfy his curiosity +by reading them himself. My judges still insisting on clear categorical +answers respecting these letters, I was obliged to reply as to their +contents. ‘Yes, gentlemen,’ answered I, ‘one of them makes mention of +an appointment broken—of their pleasure at meeting; others “thee’d” and +“thou’d” the cardinal.’ ‘Does madame really believe that these letters +came from the queen—were written by the queen herself?’ ‘I do not know +whether I ought to declare my thoughts concerning the acts of a queen, +whom I am bound to honour and respect.’ ‘But did not madame think these +expressions very strong—too strong to induce her to believe that they +came from the sovereign?’ ‘That was the reason of my first expressing +astonishment to the cardinal.’ ‘What answer did he make?’ + +“I was at length obliged to answer fully the questions which were put, +feeling, after being so persecuted, that I could not retreat; but I +cannot now remember the immense number of questions I was asked, nor the +answers I gave. ‘Bravo! bravo!’ frequently exclaimed many of my judges. +‘Certainly, certainly,’ said they, clapping their hands, ‘’tis well +replied.’ ‘Let the lady alone,’ cried out numerous voices.” + +The “Compte rendu” of the Necklace case fortunately enables us to +supply the deficiency in the countess’s memory with respect to the +foregoing incident. It seems that, in referring to a particular letter +which she first of all stated commenced with the words “Send _to_ the +little countess,” and which letter she asserted had been shown to her +by the cardinal as written by the queen, she continually misquoted the +opening phrase, converting it into “Send _by_ the little countess.” M. +Barillon, after pointing out this variation in her evidence, asked of +her the reason of it—a simple enough question, not requiring, one would +think, much consideration to answer. The countess, however, after much +hesitation, remarked with an air of mystery that she did not wish to +reply to it; because, by doing so, she would offend the queen. Whereupon, +several of the judges represented to her that the sacred persons of +their majesties could not suffer by any statement she might make, and +that she owed the whole truth to justice. Then, getting angry, she +exclaimed, that the letter really commenced with the words, “Send _thou_ +the little countess,” and she added that the cardinal had shown her +upwards of two hundred letters in which the queen “thou’d” and “thee’d” +the grand almoner, and made assignations with him, several of which had +taken place.[321] + +The countess tells us that she now made observations on the whole of +the accusation against her. “All the questions which had been addressed +to me,” she goes on to say, “together with my answers, were written +down and read over to me. The president then asked me if I had anything +more to add, to which I replied in the negative, only I particularly +entreated that my judges would condescend to examine thoroughly into this +business with an impartial eye, from whence I could not but entertain the +strongest hopes that their definitive judgment would be in my favour.” + +“My enemies,” remarks Madame de la Motte, “have laboured to convey the +impression that before my judges I was bold and loquacious. They accused +me, too, of pride. They were also kind enough to put words into my mouth +which I never made use of, making me say, with respect to the cardinal, +‘I am going to confound this great knave.’”[322] + +Whether these accusations are true or false, we have no means of +judging. It is quite certain, however, that the countess considered she +had acquitted herself in rather a smart manner before her judges; and +when they laughed at and cheered her sallies against the abbés, she no +doubt thought she had succeeded in hoodwinking not a few of them, quite +forgetting that though mankind may be ready enough to be amused, it is +not invariably at the expense of its reason and its judgment. + +“After I had made my obeisances to the assembly,” continues the countess, +“I withdrew, and was conducted by the keeper of the Conciergerie and a +great many gentlemen whom I did not know, to his wife’s apartment. All +paid me their compliments, all expressed their approbation, observing +that I defended myself well, and that even an experienced advocate could +not have pleaded my cause better.”[323] + +As soon as the countess had retired, the first president gave orders +for the _sellette_ to be removed, and sent to inform the cardinal that, +this having been done, he could present himself before the court.[324] +The Prince de Rohan entered, attired in a long purple robe, the mourning +colour of cardinals, and with scarlet stockings and cap, and wearing +his orders round his neck, saltier-wise. “He had,” says his admiring +grand-vicar, in his most grandiloquent style, “the noble presence of a +man profoundly affected, but calm, in the midst of his troubles; his +countenance expressed alike respect, modesty, and dignity, which disposed +his judges favourably towards him. He held himself erect at the bar, +his pallid complexion indicating the ravages of a recent illness which +had nearly proved fatal to him. The first president, at the request +of several of the councillors, invited him to be seated during the +long examination which he was about to undergo. The prince marked his +sensibility of the proffered favour by a profound bow, and only availed +himself of it at the third invitation. Questioned successively by certain +of his judges, who hoped to obtain satisfactory information on points +not perfectly plain, he astonished them by the clearness, the precision, +and the force of his answers. He perceived the great interest which his +humiliating situation inspired, and profited by it frankly to develop the +various false steps which his good faith and credulity had caused him to +take. ‘I was completely blinded,’ exclaimed he, ‘by the intense desire +which I felt to regain the good graces of the queen.’ This touching +scene excited a profound sensation in the breasts of the members of this +august tribunal which was about to decide the fate of one of the highest +personages in the kingdom.”[325] + +When the examination of the cardinal was concluded, Cagliostro was +summoned before the court. He presented himself before his judges dressed +in a green velvet coat, embroidered over with gold lace; his hair, +plaited from the top of his head, fell in small curls over his shoulders, +which gave him a singular appearance, not altogether inconsistent with +the character of the charlatan he was commonly believed to be. “Who are +you?—whence do you come?” was asked of him. “I am a noble traveller,” he +replied. At these words the countenances of the judges brightened up, and +observing that they seemed well disposed towards him, Cagliostro entered +boldly upon his defence, intermingling his bad French with Greek, Arabic, +Latin, and Italian. His expression, his gestures, and his vivacity were +as amusing as the subject-matter of his discourse, and he quitted the +hall perfectly satisfied with having made his judges smile.[326] + +The Demoiselle d’Oliva was examined the last. As she had already +confessed all she knew, and had nothing to add to her previous testimony, +the interrogatories addressed to her were not many, and she was soon +permitted to retire. + + + + +XXXIII. + +1786. MAY 31. + +DEBATE IN THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT.—THE SENTENCES. + + +From half-past four in the morning of the 31st of May all the members of +the cardinal’s family, women as well as men, were assembled at the door +of the parliament chamber, in order to be in the way of the judges as +they passed into the hall. “They employed,” we are told, “no other means +of solicitation beyond preserving a mournful silence, in which might be +discerned alike their grief, their firmness, and their respect for the +throne and for the laws. This mode of solicitation, so noble, so worthy +of the illustrious houses of Rohan, Soubise, Guéménée, and Lorraine, and +at the same time so perfectly conformable to the nature of the affair in +which the cardinal was implicated, made a more profound impression upon +his judges than all the eloquence which was exercised in his behalf.”[327] + +If the members of the cardinal’s family did not, on this occasion, +publicly appeal to his judges in his favour, it is certain that during +the course of the proceedings every effort had been made by the grand +almoner’s relatives and friends to increase the number of his adherents +among the councillors who had to judge the case. Mesdames de Marsan and +de Brionne, and the Prince de Soubise, visited all the members of the +Grand Chamber in turn, and solicited them in the cardinal’s behalf;[328] +besides which, on the very morning of the trial, Madame de Brionne, +dissatisfied with the attitude of the first president, did not scruple +to reproach him in his own house with his partiality and bad faith, and +to plainly tell him that it was well known he had sold himself to the +Court.[329] We know that the prime minister, the Count de Vergennes, +was a secret partisan of the grand almoner’s, and we know also, that M. +de Laurencel, the procureur-général’s deputy, drew up a list of names +of members of the Great Chamber, wherein he set forth against each +the means that had been employed to gain that particular councillor’s +vote. This list was found in after years among the papers which +Marie-Antoinette intrusted to M. Campan during the Revolution, and which +his daughter-in-law, Madame Campan, afterwards had under her charge. From +this document it would seem that ladies of the highest position did not +scruple to accept large bribes to exercise their powers of seduction in +the cardinal’s behalf, and it was by these means, we are told, that some +of the most venerable and most respectable among the judges had been +corrupted.[330] + +Between five and six o’clock the Parliament, Grand Chamber, and +Tournelle, had assembled. The number of members present amounted to +sixty-two, which subsequently became reduced to forty-nine, when the +loquacious clerical councillors had retired, as they were obliged to do, +on its being found that the judgment involved afflictive punishments.[331] + +The proceedings were opened by the procureur-général, M. Joly de Fleury, +who, when contrôleur-général in former years, had experienced his share +of persecution at the hands of Madame de la Motte, with whom he had now +the opportunity of clearing off a few old scores. In a most able speech +he submitted to the Parliament the following extremely fair proposition: +First, that the Parliament should adjudge the “_approuvés_” and the +pretended signature of the queen to be forgeries; secondly, that Count +de la Motte should be sentenced to the galleys for life, by reason of +his contumacy; thirdly, that Villette should undergo a similar sentence, +and further, that he should be whipped and branded, and his effects be +confiscated; fourthly, that Madame de la Motte should be confined for +life in the prison of the Salpêtrière, after being whipped and branded, +her effects to be likewise confiscated; fifthly, that the Cardinal de +Rohan should ask pardon of the king and queen for having been wanting +in respect towards their sacred persons; that he should be banished the +precincts of the Court, and that, during a period to be fixed by the +Parliament, he should be suspended from his office of grand almoner; +that he should be sentenced to such alms-giving as the Parliament might +direct; and, finally, that he should be kept in confinement until he had +obeyed and satisfied the judgment now given. Sixthly, that D’Oliva be put +out of court. Seventhly, that Cagliostro be acquitted.[332] + +The party opposed to the queen at once rejected these proposals. No +sooner had M. Joly de Fleury done speaking, than M. de Barillon, a +partisan of the cardinal’s, started up and exclaimed that the conclusions +to which they had just listened were not those of a procureur-général, +but rather those of a minister whom it was not difficult to recognize; +alluding, of course, to the Baron de Breteuil. The advocate-general, +M. Séguier, to the surprise of the excited councillors, joined in this +attack upon his colleague, whom he personally denounced.[333] Hereupon +quite a scene ensued and accusations were bandied backwards and forwards +between the legal officers of the crown. M. de Fleury reproached M. +Séguier with his loose and disorderly life, with his nightly rambles in +the Palais Royal, and the money that these cost him. “It may be so,” +replied the other, “out of my house I do what I please, but no one has +known me to sell my opinion basely to fortune.” The procureur-général +made no reply to this insinuation but remained stupefied as it were with +his mouth open.[334] + +The incident having terminated, M. de Mineres passed in review all the +various impostures of Madame de la Motte, maintained that the cardinal +was not her only victim, that the jewellers had been equally deceived, +for they loaded her with thanks for the exertions she had made in their +behalf, and offered her presents, whereas, neither thanks nor presents +were offered to the cardinal, whom the jewellers regarded simply as an +instrument chosen by the countess to conduct the negotiation: other +speakers instanced the letter of thanks which the cardinal had repeatedly +advised the jewellers to send to the queen, as a convincing proof of his +good faith. M. de Jonville, third master of requests, attributed the +evidence which appeared to tell most against the cardinal entirely to the +bad memory of Böhmer, of which he gave several proofs.[335] + +The speeches of Councillors D’Epréménil and Fretteau, and the Abbé +Sabattier, produced however the greatest effect. This celebrated trio +showed the utmost boldness in attacking the court and braving its anger, +and spoke vehemently in favour of the cardinal’s complete acquittal.[336] +Singularly enough, it was these very same three men who, a year or two +afterwards, stirred up the Parliament to refuse to register the royal +edicts, and were among the first to demand the convocation of the +States-general, for which acts of temerity the two last were packed off +by _lettres-de-cachet_—the one to the Castle of Ham, the other to dreary +Mont St.-Michel, and D’Epréménil, a few months later to the Isle of +Sainte-Marguerite (Calypso’s enchanted island,) whence he returned—the +Revolution having made rapid strides meanwhile—“a red-hot royalist,” +to finish his career under the axe of the guillotine. M. Robert de +St.-Vincent was another of those who spoke in favour of the Prince de +Rohan, who, he maintained, had been deceived by the most plausible lies. +He denied the legality of the procureur-général’s conclusions, and the +power of the Parliament to incorporate them in its judgment, and asked +for the cardinal’s acquittal. He condemned, too, the publicity given to +the proceedings, and expressed his regret that the king and queen had not +been advised by some wiser minister, who would have been more regardful +of the dignity of the crown. The president, D’Ormesson—the same who +sent the countess a few louis “by the hands of the police”—offered an +amendment to the procureur-général’s proposition, to the effect that the +cardinal should retain his offices and dignities, but that he should be +required to ask pardon of the queen for the offence he had committed. +There was no difference of opinion among the judges as to the measure +of punishment to be meted out to Madame de la Motte, excepting that MM. +Robert de Saint-Vincent and Dyonis du Séjour pressed the passing of +sentence of death upon her. As her crime, however, had been unforeseen by +the laws, this penalty could not be legally inflicted.[337] + +The discussion, which was very animated, continued throughout the day. At +two o’clock in the afternoon the sitting was suspended, in order that the +judges might dine at a table which the first president had had set out +for them in the hall of St.-Louis; the greater number, we are told, ate +standing, and by half-past three the sitting was resumed. Between nine +and ten o’clock at night, after the final voting had taken place, the +following judgment was delivered.[338] + +“The Court, the Great Chamber assembled, in the exercise of its +jurisdiction and on the conclusions of the procureur-général of +the king, declares that the words ‘_approuvé_’ and the signature, +‘_Marie-Antoinette de France_,’ have been fraudulently appended to the +margin of the document, entitled, ‘Propositions and Conditions of Price +and Payment’ for the Necklace brought in question at this trial, and +which are falsely attributed to the queen; orders that the said words +‘_approuvé_,’ and the said signature, ‘_Marie-Antoinette de France_,’ +shall be struck out and erased from the said document, and that mention +shall be made of the present decree on the same, which will be and shall +remain deposited in the criminal registry of the Court,[339] of all of +which affirmation shall be made by the court registrar. + +“Adjudging the consequences of the contumacy declared good and valid +by the decree of the Court of the 10th of April, 1786, against +Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte accused, absent— + +“For the facts proved by the proceedings condemns the said +Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte to be flogged and beaten naked with +rods, and branded with a hot iron on the right shoulder with the letters +‘G. A. L.’ by the public executioner; this done to be led and conducted +to the galleys of the king, there to be detained to serve our said king +as convict for life.[340] + +“Declares all the goods of the said Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte +acquired and confiscated to the king, or whomsoever he may appoint, a +fine of two hundred livres to the king being previously levied thereon: +which sentence, by reason of the contumacy of the said De la Motte, shall +be written upon a tablet, which shall be affixed to a post planted for +this purpose in the Place de Grève (place of execution). + +“Banishes Louis-Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette from the kingdom for life. + +“Condemns Jeanne de Valois de Saint-Remi de Luz, wife of +Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte, while having a halter round her neck, +to be flogged and beaten naked with rods, and branded with a hot iron +upon both shoulders with the letter ‘V,’ by the public executioner; this +done, to be led and conducted to the prison of the Salpêtrière, there to +be detained and confined for life.[341] + +“Declares likewise all the goods of the said De la Motte, and the +said Rétaux de Villette, acquired and confiscated to the king, or to +whomsoever he may appoint; a fine of two hundred livres to the king being +previously levied upon each. + +“Upon the complaint and accusation brought at the request of the +procureur-général of the king against Marie-Nicole Le Guay, alias d’Oliva +or Dessigny, puts the parties out of court and discharges the process. + +“Discharges Alexandre de Cagliostro and Louis-René-Édouard de Rohan from +the complaint and accusation brought against them at the request of the +procureur-général of the king. + +“Orders, that the memorials printed for Jeanne de Saint-Remi de Valois +de la Motte shall be and shall continue to be suppressed, as containing +false statements, injurious and calumnious alike against the said +Cardinal de Rohan and the said De Cagliostro. + +“Upon the remainder of the request of the said De Cagliostro, alike +against Commissary Chénon and De Launay, governor of the Bastille, puts +it out of court, without prejudice to his appeal when and how he may be +advised; upon the rest of the demands, requests, and conclusions of the +parties puts these out of court. + +“Gives permission to the Cardinal de Rohan and the said De Cagliostro to +cause the present judgment to be printed and posted up wheresoever it may +seem good to them.”[342] + +Contemporary accounts agree in stating that something like ten thousand +people were assembled in the courts and passages of the palace and in +the neighbourhood of their approaches, all anxious to learn the judgment +of the Parliament.[343] Crowds streamed across the Pont Neuf, the Pont +Saint-Michel, the Pont-au-Change, and the Ponts Notre-Dame, coming from +all parts of Paris. There were courtiers, men of letters, financiers, +abbés, avocats, avoués, shopkeepers and their wives, students, working +men, soldiers, police agents, men and women from the _halles_, and idlers +of every description. “About nine o’clock at night,” says Madame de la +Motte, “I heard a report like that of acclamation in the courtyard. I ran +to look out of one of the windows which commanded a view of the court, +and saw crowds of people running very fast by the great staircase. I +could not distinctly understand what they said, except that one of them, +who was very near the window, cried out, ‘Bravo! bravo! Upon my word, it +is very fortunate for the cardinal; but what will become of poor Madame +de la Motte?’ The moment these words vibrated in my ear, they were like +an electric shock. Unable to sustain myself, my legs bent under me: I +tottered and sank into a chair. When I was a little recovered, the keeper +of the Conciergerie, assisted by his son, conducted me to my apartment, +where having left me for a few minutes, with a view of gaining authentic +information of the definitive sentence of the court, they soon after +returned. ‘The cardinal,’ said they, ‘is put out of court, and delivered +from further process; Cagliostro and D’Oliva are the same; Villette, +madame, is banished, as well as you.’ ‘For how long?’ ‘I believe, for +three years; but everybody blames the judges. We think there will be some +alteration.’”[344] + +It is likely enough that, out of consideration for the countess and her +well-known violent temper, the foregoing innocent piece of deception +was practised upon her by the keeper of the Conciergerie, who soon +afterwards prevailed upon her to retire to rest. Meanwhile the judges +were leaving the palace, pressed upon by an immense crowd of people, who +made the walls of the old building ring again with their acclamations. A +thousand voices shouted out, “_Vive le Parlement!_” “_Vive le Cardinal!_” +The market women, throwing themselves in the way of the departing +councillors, vociferated their applause, and offered them bouquets of +flowers. M. Titon, one of the reporters of the case, who, with his +fellow-reporter, Dupuis de Marcé, had adopted the conclusions of the +procureur-général, threw the flowers back again with marked ill-humour, +to let the people see that he merited no share of this popular ovation. +Something, however, more substantial than flowers were in store for M. +Titon, for the king conferred on him the post of civil lieutenant in +reward for his zeal.[345] + +When MM. Target and De Bonnières, the advocates who had advised the +cardinal to take his trial before the Parliament, sought to enter the +record office to communicate the judgment to their client, curt old De +Launay, governor of the Bastille, who had the Prince de Rohan in his +charge, informed them that he had received specific orders from the Baron +de Breteuil not to allow any one to speak to his prisoner. On its being +represented to him that the cardinal was no longer in legal custody, +since he had been formally discharged of the accusation against him by +the judgment of the Parliament just rendered, and on the bystanders +expressing their disapprobation by loud murmurs, he eventually permitted +the two advocates to enter. “The cardinal, robed in the Roman purple,” +says Cagliostro, “was carried off in triumph;”[346] and so he was, but +to the Bastille. As soon as the interview between the grand almoner and +his counsel had terminated, De Launay informed him that, the Parliament +having separated, he would have to return to that gloomy state prison. +Hearing this, the cardinal proceeded to follow his gaoler to the +carriage, while the people rushed forward, and kissed both his hands and +his garments. To impose upon the crowd De Launay gave orders for the +vehicle to be driven “to the hôtel,”[347] and the people, imagining the +Palais-Cardinal to be intended, ran beside the carriage, shouting their +congratulations, and only quitted it when it disappeared within the walls +of the grim old fortress, every stone of which was destined in little +more than three short years to be razed to the ground. + + + + +XXXIV. + +1786. JUNE. + +THE SENTENCES CARRIED OUT.—“WHAT IS RESERVED FOR THE BLOOD OF THE +BOURBONS?” + + +The evening following that on which judgment was pronounced, the gates +of the Bastille were opened to the cardinal, who returned to the +Palais-Cardinal at half-past ten o’clock at night. There he found the +members of his family and the people of the _quartier_ waiting to receive +him, and testify their joy at his acquittal.[348] + +Cagliostro shared the popular ovations. He, too, was conducted back in +a sort of triumph to the Bastille, where he remained until he recovered +possession of the portfolio and other effects, minus, however, the one +hundred thousand francs in cash and bills seized in his house, he tells +us, by Commissary Chénon. He left the Bastille late at night in a hackney +coach. The evening, he says, was dark, the part of the city he lived in +retired, but when he arrived at his house in the Rue Saint-Claude he +found himself welcomed by the acclamations of thousands. The doors of +his hôtel had been burst open; the courtyard, the staircase, the very +apartments—indeed, every corner of the house was crowded with people.[349] + +As for Rétaux de Villette, he himself tells us that he was recommended by +both the gaoler and the executioner to take his departure as rapidly as +possible—advice which he was only too ready to follow. “Outside the city +gate,” he says, “a great man, who belonged, I believe, to the cardinal, +took me on one side, and gave me a purse of fifty-five louis, and a note +to the Abbé d’Aimar, to whom, he told me, I was to make known my future +wants. When, however, I desired to profit by these instructions, I could +obtain no reply.”[350] Cagliostro says that Villette was banished in the +ignominious sense of the term—that is, led out of prison, with a rope +round his neck, by the executioner, who, when they arrived together at +the city gate, gave him, first of all, a loaf, and then a kick behind, +with strict injunctions never to return.[351] The fifty-five louis, +however, were some sort of salve to the indignity offered to the person +of the ex-gendarme. + +Mademoiselle d’Oliva, on being told that she was adjudged “_hors de +cour_,” thought it to be a prohibition against her going to Versailles +any more, and faithfully promised to observe it.[352] + +It will be readily understood that the sentences of the Parliament +excited the indignation of both the king and the queen. The former +inveighed against the judgment as being a most outrageous one. The +cardinal, he said, knew too well the usages of the Court to have been +idiot enough to believe that Madame de la Motte was admitted near the +queen, or was charged with any such commission as that of the purchase of +the Necklace.[353] + +As for Marie-Antoinette, she was profoundly afflicted. “Come and weep +with me, come and console your friend, my dear Polignac,” she writes; +“the judgment which has just been pronounced is a shameful insult. I +am bathed in tears of grief and despair. One can flatter oneself with +nothing when perversity exhausts every means to crush my spirit. What +ingratitude! But I shall triumph over the wicked by tripling the good +which I have always tried to do. They will feel greater pleasure in +afflicting me than I shall in revenging myself upon them. Come, my dear +heart.”[354] + +In writing to her sister, the queen does not restrain her indignation +that the cardinal, whom she believed to be the most guilty in the affair, +should have been allowed to escape. It is thus she expresses herself:— + + “1st June, 1786. + +“I need not tell you, my dear sister, how indignant I feel at the +judgment which has just been pronounced by the parliament. It has no +respect for royalty; it is a shameful insult, and I am bathed in tears +of despair. What! a man who had the audacity to lend himself to that +indecent and infamous scene in the arbour, who supposed that he had an +assignation with the Queen of France, with the wife of his king, that the +queen had received a rose from him,[355] and had suffered him to throw +himself at her feet, should not, when a throne is concerned, be held +guilty of high treason, but should be simply regarded as one who had been +deceived! It is odious and revolting. Pity me, my good sister; I did not +merit this injury, I who have endeavoured to do good to all who surround +me, and who only remember that I am the daughter of Marie-Thérèse, to +show myself, as she recommended me when embracing me at my departure, +French to the very bottom of my heart. To be so sacrificed to a perjured +priest, to a lewd intriguer, how grievous! But do not think that I shall +allow myself to do anything unworthy of me. I have declared that I will +never seek to revenge myself beyond doubling the good which I have +already done. I need not tell you that the king is indignant like myself; +he exiles the cardinal to La Chaise-Dieu, and Cagliostro is expelled from +France. Adieu! My children are well. We all embrace you, and press you to +our hearts.”[356] + +To Madame Campan, who knew more of the particulars of the intrigue than +any one else about the queen, Marie-Antoinette mournfully said: “Make +me your compliments of condolence; the intriguer who wished to ruin me, +or to obtain money by abusing my name, and forging my signature, has +just been acquitted. But as a Frenchwoman, also receive my compliments +of condolence. A people is indeed unhappy to have for supreme tribunal +a set of men who are swayed by their own passions, many of whom are +susceptible of corruption, while the remainder are possessed of an +audacity which they are only too ready to manifest against authority, as +they have just shown in so marked a manner.”[357] + +“At this epoch,” says Madame Campan, “the happy days of the queen +terminated. Adieu for ever to the peaceful and simple pleasures of +Trianon, to the fêtes where once shone the magnificence, intellect, +and good taste of the court of France; adieu, above all, to that +consideration and respect, the forms of which surround the throne, but of +which the reality alone is its solid base.”[358] + +Spite of the judgment of the Parliament, the cardinal was not allowed to +go entirely scot-free. The king at once wrote to the Baron de Breteuil, +requiring him to demand from the cardinal the resignation of his office +of grand almoner, and the surrender of the various orders the king had +conferred upon him. Accompanying this letter was a _lettre-de-cachet_ +banishing the cardinal within three days to his abbey of the Chaise-Dieu, +in the midst of the Auvergne mountains, where the king sarcastically +intimated he would not be likely to receive much company. Until his +departure he was commanded to see no one, except his relatives and +counsel. If nothing else could be done, a stop could, at any rate, be put +to receptions and ovations at the Palais-Cardinal. + +On receiving the above instructions, the Baron de Breteuil who was +suffering from gout in the stomach, rose, it is said, from his bed +completely resuscitated at the prospect of being the bearer to the +cardinal of such agreeable news.[359] He presented himself to the Prince +de Rohan, on the morning after the release of the latter from the +Bastille, and just as he had ordered his carriage intending to go round +and thank his judges. The prince without appearing the least disquieted +informed the minister that he would observe two of the orders of the king +with the fidelity, the exactitude, and the submission which the Rohans +had always shown for the sovereign’s commands; but, with regard to his +resignation of the office of grand almoner, he could not confide this +to M. de Breteuil, as he had had the honour of sending it to the king +an hour ago through the Count de Vergennes.[360] The minister pressed +the prince to sign some further paper in reference to this resignation, +observing that he did so with regret, but was obliged to obey the +orders of the king his master. “Monsieur,” replied the cardinal, in a +nettled tone, “the king himself has already done justice on me. I have +no need of an executioner.” This _mot_ speedily circulated all over +Paris, and the minister was henceforth styled “Bourreau (executioner) +Breteuil.”[361] Louis XVI.’s minister of justice experienced a more +severe rebuff when charged, a few years later, with carrying out the +terms of a _lettre-de-cachet_ banishing the Duke d’Orléans to his château +of Villers-Cotterets for his famous protest at the “royal session,” when, +as Carlyle remarks, he “cut his court moorings.” The baron wished to +accompany the duke in his carriage, in order that, in accordance with +the king’s commands, he might not lose sight of him, whereupon the duke +observed, with disdainful pride, “Ah, well! jump up behind.” + +On June 2, the day after Cagliostro’s release from the Bastille, +police-inspector Brugnières entered his apartment and addressed him +“in the king’s name,” at which ominous words his heart, he says, sank +within him. The order of which Brugnières was the bearer was dated +on the day preceding, and enjoined the count to leave Paris in three +days, and the kingdom within three weeks. Next day Cagliostro removed +to Passy, and some few days after to St.-Denis, whence he started with +his wife to Boulogne-sur-Mer. On the 16th they embarked for England +under circumstances the most sentimental, if we can credit the count’s +narrative of the affair. “The shores that I quitted,” observes he, “were +lined by a crowd of citizens of all classes, who blessed and thanked +me for the good I had done their brethren, addressing to me the most +touching farewells. The winds carried me far away from them, and I heard +them no more, but I saw them again on their knees, with their hands +raised towards heaven, and it was my turn to bless them, and to cry out +and repeat, as though they could hear me: ‘Adieu, Frenchmen! adieu, my +children! adieu, my country!’”[362] + +The Countess de la Motte remained for three weeks in the Conciergerie +ignorant of the true nature of her sentence, and hoping, whatever it +might be, that it would not be carried out. “At length,” she tells us, +“the twenty-first of June arrived, that eventful day which will live in +my remembrance as long as memory itself shall live—that day the most +accursed in the calendar of my misfortunes. + +“One of the gaolers came to my chamber, and told me that he had come +from my counsel M. Doillot, ‘who,’ said the deceiver, ‘is now in the +_greffe_, (the record office,) and desires to see you as he is going +immediately into the country, which is the reason why he comes so early +in the morning. It is to read you a letter which he has received from +Versailles. It will be unnecessary for you to regard your dress, because +he is in so great a hurry.’ I threw on hastily a morning gown, and +followed this impostor, who made me descend a small staircase which I +used to pass every morning to go to the lodge of the _concierge_. He went +before me and entered first. I pushed the door from me to get through, +which I had scarce half effected when I found the door forcibly pushed +to by a person on the other side with as much violence as if he wished +to secure an ox, whom he was fearful would escape. Some one immediately +seized me by the right arm, and dragged me into the _greffe_, where +another laid hold of my other arm, and bound me fast. The first thing I +observed was the _huissier_ Breton holding some papers in his hand, which +I conceived, as the _concierge_ had told me, would be read, announcing +my pretended banishment. ‘No, certainly,’ said I to Breton, ‘I will not +endure to hear so unjust a sentence, nor fall upon my knees to receive +the condemnation of an iniquitous cabal, predetermined to sacrifice me!’ +A great number of strange persons were present, many of whom seized me +rudely round the waist, and others by the legs to oblige me to kneel +down, but not being able to succeed they held me suspended at a distance +from the ground. While I was in this posture the _huissier_ read my +sentence, but the cries I uttered almost drowned his voice. + +“Overpowered by superior strength my resistance became more feeble, and +in this condition I was dragged to the place where the sacrifice was to +be completed. Weary and faint, exhausted by my cries and the ineffectual +struggles I had already made, entreating those around me to avenge the +innocent and _the blood of their good King Henry II.!_ I at length lost +all sense of reason. I could see nothing, could feel nothing which could +serve to show me what they intended to do.”[363] + +We will supplement Madame de la Motte’s own account of the infliction of +the sentence passed upon her, by some extracts from contemporary memoirs +which furnish several curious additional particulars. + +“Madame de la Motte,” writes the Hon. Mr. Eden to Mr. Pitt, “was called +up at five, and informed that the Court wished to see her. She had no +suspicion of the judgment, which is not communicated here to the accused, +except in the case of a capital sentence. She went in an undress, without +stays, which proved convenient. Upon the registrar reading the sentence, +her surprise, rage, and shrieks were beyond description. The _bourreau_ +(executioner) and his assistants instantly seized her, and carried her +into an outer court, where she was fastened to a cart with a halter round +her neck. The _bourreau_ talked to her like a tooth-drawer, and assured +her most politely that it would soon be over. The whipping was slight +and _pro formâ_, but the branding was done with some severity. It is a +good idea that the ‘V’ (_voleuse_—thief) on her shoulders stands also for +Valois.”[364] + +The Countess de Sabran, writing on the day of the occurrence to the +Chevalier de Boufflers, says—“Madame de la Motte was punished to-day, +at 6 o’clock in the morning, in order to avoid too great a concourse of +curious people. The unfortunate woman was sleeping profoundly when they +came to tell her, that her lawyer was waiting to talk with her about her +affairs; they had adopted this course the more easily to effect their +object. She got up, not fearing anything, put on a small petticoat and +a cloak, and descended quickly to the room where she beheld eight men +and M. Le Breton, the registrar, who held her sentence in his hand. +At this sight she was much agitated, and tried to fly; whereupon they +threw themselves upon her, and tied her little delicate hands, which +people called charming and which are certainly very dexterous. ‘Why such +precautions?’ she boldly asked. ‘I shall not escape you; if you were +executioners, you could not treat me worse.’ She believed that it was +only a question of removing her to a convent, there to pass a few years. +They told her to go down on her knees, and as she was not inclined to +do so, one of the executioners gave her a blow on the ham-strings which +brought her to the ground. M. Le Breton then read her sentence. At the +moment she heard she was going to be whipped and branded, she went into +convulsions and into a fearful fit of passion, biting everything that +was near her, tearing her clothes, pulling out her hair, &c. In spite +of this the executioners seized her and carried her to the place of +punishment. There, they put the rope round her neck, and tried in vain +to undress her; she defended herself like a lion, with feet, hands, and +teeth, and so obstinately that they were obliged to cut her clothes and +even her chemise in order to make an end of the affair; which was very +indecent, as in spite of the unreasonable hour which had been chosen with +the object of keeping people away, spectators were present in very great +numbers. + +“She uttered loud cries, always saying: ‘Spare the blood of the Valois.’ +She hurled forth curses against the Parliament, the cardinal, and even +some one more sacred, and struggled so that the executioner could not +perform the operation of branding her as perfectly as he wished, and +scored her all down the back. After the infliction of this sanguinary +punishment, they conveyed her in a hackney coach to the Salpêtrière.”[365] + +Nougaret, author of the “Anecdotes of the reign of Louis XVI.,” says, +that “on the countess being conducted before her judges, the registrar +proceeded to read her sentence; on hearing which, astonishment, fury, +rage, and despair seemed all of a sudden to take possession of her. +Determined not to hear her sentence to the end, she flung herself on +the ground and rolled about like a person convulsed, giving vent to the +most horrible yells. The executioner and his assistants had the greatest +difficulty in removing her to the court of the palace, where her sentence +was to be inflicted. Immediately she perceived the instruments of +punishment, she seized one of the executioners by the collar, and in a +moment of frenzy bit a piece out of his hand, then sunk on the ground in +convulsions far more violent than those she had recently recovered from. +It was found necessary to tear her clothes off from her to mark her with +the red-hot iron on her shoulders. During this operation, her cries and +imprecations were redoubled. A few hours afterwards there circulated all +over Paris the following epigram on the countess’s pretensions to the +honours of the house of Valois”—the _fleur-de-lis_, (the arms of the +Valois,) it should be remembered, invariably formed part of any mark with +which culprits were branded: + + “À la moderne Valois + Qui contestera ses droits? + La cour des pairs elle-même, + Quoi qu’en termes peu polis, + Lui fait par arrêt suprême, + Endosser les fleurs-de-lis.”[366] + +Louis Blanc, in his “History of the French Revolution,” quoting mainly +the Baron de Besenval and the Abbé Georgel, says: “Tied with cords, and +dragged into the court of the Palais, she commenced to utter cries, not +of terror, but of fury. Addressing herself to the people, she exclaimed, +‘If they treat thus the blood of the Valois, what is the lot reserved for +that of the Bourbons?’ And in the midst of the groans which indignation +drew from the crowd, these characteristic words were heard:—‘It is my +own fault that I suffer this ignominy; I had only to say one word, and I +should have been hung.’ [She not only said this word, but launched forth +a succession of impure and calumnious charges against the queen, couched, +too, in the foulest language.] Then like as was done to Lally Tollendal, +they placed a gag in her mouth, and as she was struggling with despair +in the hands of the executioner, the red-hot iron, which ought to have +marked her on the shoulder, glanced off and marked her on the breast.” + +Rétaux de Villette asserts that “people were posted in the court of the +palace to make a great noise, so that none of the public who chanced +to be present might hear what Madame de la Motte said. The sentence +executed, she was thrown half dead into a coach, and driven at full +gallop to the Salpêtrière,”[367] the prison where abandoned women were +confined. One of the doors of the vehicle having flown open on the road, +the officers in charge of the countess were only just in time to save +her from springing out and throwing herself under the wheels. When she +arrived at the Salpêtrière, she made a further attempt to destroy herself +by forcing the coverlid of her miserable truckle bed into her mouth.[368] + +On the day the Countess de Valois de la Motte underwent the infliction of +the first portion of her sentence, Louis XVI. set out on a royal progress +to Cherbourg, to be present at the submerging of the first cone for the +foundation of the gigantic breakwater there. As this was being slowly +lowered into the sea amidst shouts of _Vive le Roi!_ from thousands of +lusty Norman throats, we may be quite certain that, what might chance to +be “in reserve for the blood of the Bourbons” was one of the very last +things the king was likely to trouble himself about. + + + + +XXXV. + +AUG. 1785–JUNE 1786. + +COUNT DE LA MOTTE’S FLIGHT—COLD STEEL AND POISON. + + +We must now go back a little in our narrative and see what has become of +Count de la Motte since his flight from Bar-sur-Aube. Beugnot mentions +that he took his place in the diligence, but he seems to have gone in one +of his own carriages, and posted as fast as he could, day and night, to +Boulogne, where he arrived on the night of August 20, having accomplished +the journey of three hundred miles, all stoppages included, in little +more than forty-eight hours, and whence at noon on the 22nd he crossed +over to England.[369] The authorities, who had shown such remissness in +not having him arrested earlier, now that he was beyond their reach began +to bestir themselves, and sent orders to the officers of the marshalsea, +at Boulogne and other ports, to overhaul all vessels leaving the harbour, +and capture the count if they only got the chance. The officer of the +marshalsea at Boulogne was lucky enough to capture the count’s carriage, +which had been left behind at the “Hôtel du Lion d’Argent,” and in his +simplicity set a man to watch it, for we know not how many days and +nights, in the vain hope that the count would return and claim it.[370] +This we need hardly say he had not the remotest intention of doing. + +Of the various dangers and mishaps which befel the count on this, +his second visit to England, full particulars are to be found in the +narrative which he himself has written of his adventures.[371] He +started, he tells us, with merely a hundred louis in his purse, and made +with all speed for England, where, on the occasion of his former trip, +he had left some diamonds, “which it was natural,” he observes, “he +should procure.” His first call, therefore, was on Gray the jeweller, +from whom he obtained the diamonds in question, and ere long was living +on the proceeds arising from their sale. While waiting for intelligence +as to the turn affairs were taking in Paris, he tells us that he visited +the Haymarket Theatre one evening, and that while returning home in a +hackney coach a daring attempt was made to assassinate him. His hat +fortunately saved his skull. A sword was then thrust through the little +window behind, and nearly spitted him to his seat. However, he seems to +have escaped without bodily injury. + +Under the pretence that his life was not safe in London, the count takes +a journey to the north. Whether his life were really in danger it is +impossible to say, but it is quite certain that his liberty was; for +there were serious thoughts at this time of kidnapping him and carrying +him over to France. The proposal emanated from a spy in the pay of the +French government named Le Mercier. “If,” reports he, “in order to +carry the individual off, cunning should not suffice, we will employ +force to conduct him to some isolated spot on the banks of the Thames, +where we will take care to have stationed for a fortnight previously, +if necessary, one of those vessels which bring coal to London from the +north. Their hulls are so thick, that it would be impossible for any one +confined in the hold to make himself heard, let him cry out as loud as he +will.”[372] + +Before this amiable suggestion of the spy Le Mercier could be acted +upon, Count de la Motte had taken up his quarters in Lancaster, whence +he went to Dublin, next to Glasgow, and finally to Edinburgh. Here, he +says, he made the discovery that an attempt had been made to poison him, +as he believed, at some Dublin dinner party. At any rate, he was so ill +that he was obliged to keep his bed for three months. On his recovery +he found that he was watched whenever he went abroad, which was likely +enough to have been the case, as at this time Count d’Adhémar, ambassador +of France in England, wrote, it is said, to a great personage at the +French court, stating that Count de la Motte had withdrawn among the +mountains of Scotland, where the so-called privileges of the Scotch +prevented any legal seizure of his person being made; nevertheless he, +the ambassador, had found ten well-disposed hardy mountaineers who would +undertake to capture the count and carry him over to France, for which +service, as they would probably have to employ as much force as seduction +in the accomplishment of it, and incur the risk of being hanged, they +demanded a thousand louis each. The queen, having heard of this letter, +at once said that even if it were necessary to give double this amount, +there ought not to be a moment’s hesitation, since the presence of +the Count de la Motte was the one thing wanting to thoroughly unveil +a most abominable conspiracy and to punish the authors of it. Orders +were thereupon given to place the requisite sum at the ambassador’s +disposal.[373] By this time, however, the count had left Edinburgh, +and gone south to Newcastle-on-Tyne, where, he pretends, the capuchin, +McDermott, whose acquaintance he made when last in England, bribed by the +handsome offer of ten thousand pounds, attempted to poison him on several +occasions.[374] We do not believe a word of this; the French government +were no doubt anxious to secure the count’s presence at the approaching +trial, and would have been only too glad of a chance of kidnapping him; +but that they, or indeed any one else, wished to put him out of the way, +is extremely improbable, for it was his evidence, and not his silence, +that they desired to ensure. + +About this time, namely, early in April, 1786, a woman named Costa, +wife of one of the ambassador’s spies, who had succeeded in scraping +acquaintance with Count de la Motte, crossed over to Paris with a letter +from the count to M. Doillot, Madame de la Motte’s counsel, in which he +stated that he could make the innocence of his wife clear as day if he +only dared come forward. The count insinuated that he had a letter of the +cardinal’s, inquiring of him whether he had succeeded in disposing of the +diamonds.[375] On the woman Costa’s return to England she went, according +to her own account, by direction of the Paris police to Count d’Adhémar, +who bade her tell her husband to take a house at Newcastle-on-Tyne, so +as to facilitate the drugging of the count and conveying him on board a +French ship which was lying ready in the harbour under the command of +one Surbois, an _exempt_ of the French police. Madame Costa asserted +that her husband had already received a bribe of a thousand guineas for +this purpose (less a commission of sixty guineas which the ambassador’s +secretary deducted for his little pickings out of the affair), and had +been promised nine thousand guineas more when the count was safe on +board.[376] Costa, however, seems to have let the count into the secret, +and they came up to London together to work upon the ambassadorial +exchequer as best as they could. + +Arrived there on the 18th of May, Count de la Motte tells us that shortly +afterwards he meets the French ambassador at Lady Spencer’s and proceeds +to draw him out. From what the ambassador lets fall, the count comes to +the conclusion that the government now wish to get him out of the way +simply to ensure his silence. “Your presence and deposition,” remarks +the ambassador, “would entirely overthrow all that has hitherto been +done, and the business would take quite a different turn.” He tells the +count that, according to the advice of the Duke of Rutland, they could +have seized him when he was at Dublin. They thought, however, they had +sufficient evidence to convict the cardinal without his testimony. Next +day the ambassador observes to him: “It was feared that you would have +espoused the cardinal’s cause in preference to that of the queen. You +know your position: the De Rohans accuse you of having run away with +the remainder of the Necklace.” He then suggests that the count, by +surrendering himself can do himself no harm, and might do the queen some +service, and undertakes to procure him a passport in eight or ten days +at the farthest. De la Motte of course wants money, or, at any rate, +hints that he does, and D’Adhémar promises him five or six thousand +livres. It is then arranged between them what the count is to say in his +defence. He is on no account to state that the countess had access to +the queen; neither is he to mention anything about the letters said to +have been sent by the queen to the cardinal. De la Motte, playing with +the ambassador like a cat does with a mouse, does not see how he can +acquit the queen; whereupon the ambassador glides off to the cardinal, +tells the count to repeat all the indecent speeches he has heard him make +respecting her majesty, who will not be displeased at his so doing. He +next advises him to say nothing about De Polignac, Coigny, Vandreuil, +Dillon, or Fersen—all belonging to the queen’s society. “As to the +Necklace,” continues D’Adhémar, “I would advise you to say that you are +persuaded the cardinal gave it, partly or wholly, to your wife. The +countess will never allow that to be the case, but I am certain it really +was so. Finally, you must not say a single word respecting the Baron de +Breteuil.” The count suggests giving up the countess’s necklace which +Gray had set, and which by this time must certainly have been in pawn, if +not sold outright. This, D’Adhémar says, would certainly please the king. +Then advising the count to change his name, and to avoid the tattling +of the _Courrier de l’Europe_, the ambassador brings the interview to a +close. + +Other interviews follow; the count no doubt bleeding the ambassador from +time to time pretty freely. Although he talked enough about surrendering +himself, it is tolerably certain he had no intention of running that +risk. Vergennes, moreover, believing that the count’s presence might +damage the cardinal’s cause, received the proposition with coldness, and +did not send the required passport. D’Adhémar on one occasion showed +Count de la Motte the draft of a letter which he had sent to the king +through the Count de Vergennes, wherein he informed his majesty that +the count desired to surrender himself and justify the proceedings of +his wife. “I have, however, been tricked and betrayed by Vergennes,” he +remarked, “who kept back the letter until it was too late, for judgment +has now been pronounced.” D’Adhémar tells the count that his presence in +Paris is now more necessary than ever. “The procureur-général is going +to prefer a fresh complaint against the cardinal for ‘criminal attempts’ +upon the queen, for the language he has used, the letters he has +exhibited, the pretended meetings by night, &c., and the Parliament will +be by statute obliged to try the Necklace affair over again in connection +with the new charge.” On leaving the ambassador the count hastened to a +neighbouring coffee-house, where he sees a copy of the judgment to which +M. d’Adhémar had just referred, in the _Morning Post_ newspaper, and at +once writes a savage letter to M. de Vergennes, copies of which he sends +to the English and French press. + +A few days afterwards, the ambassador’s secretary tells the count that +the queen has determined to abandon the new prosecution, on account of +the scandal it would create, but will contrive to deprive the cardinal of +his blue ribbon and places at court, and banish him to herd with monks in +the savage parts of Auvergne. At this news, which indicates a stoppage of +further supplies, Count de la Motte is inconsolable, and feels, moreover, +that he has been duped. To let him down as gently as possible, the court +protection is promised him. For the future, however, the ambassador is +“not at home” to the count’s morning calls; neither does he take any +notice whatever of the count’s numerous letters.[377] + +The count, now grown indignant, threatens all manner of exposures, and +with his letters to the newspapers becomes a complete nuisance to the +representatives of the French government in England; the ambassador, +however, escapes further persecution, for just at this moment he is +summoned to Paris by his government, who, after a time, relieve him of +his diplomatic functions, and appoint the Marquis de la Luzerne, brother +of the old Bishop of Langres, in his stead. + + + + +XXXVI. + +1786. JUNE–DEC. + +THE SALPÊTRIÈRE.—TRUCKLE-BED AND PRISON FARE.—THE COUNT THREATENS THE +FRENCH COURT. + + +“As soon as Madame de la Motte arrived at the Salpêtrière,” remarks +Madame Robin, the then superior general of the hospital, “she was taken +to the registry where all our prisoners are enrolled before they are +sent to their several prisons: she remained near three-quarters of an +hour apparently without any knowledge of what passed—totally insensible. +A little after she came to herself, I begged her to search her pockets +and let me take her earrings. She presented to me her right ear; she +could not speak, and she was so disfigured that her shape scarce appeared +to be human, yet she seemed patient as a lamb going to the fold. The +_huissiers_ then crammed her into the same hackney-coach, and conveyed +her to the hall of the Salpêtrière. Before she entered the prison itself, +she was taken extremely ill, and we thought she would never recover. + +“We seized the first moment when she appeared to be recovering, and +caused her to be placed by some of the sisters in a bed one of the +prisoners had given her, which was fortunate for Madame de la Motte, +otherwise she would have been under the necessity of lying in a bed full +of vermin with six of the poor old women.” + +“The next day,” says Madame de la Motte, “a number of girls, habited +in the dress of daughters of charity, came to visit me in crowds; +they appeared and disappeared like lightning. The officiating sister, +Geneviève, whom I shall never forget, conducted me to a small court to +take the air, and left me to return to her business. I was scarcely +seated when I saw a very great number of poor women coming out of a gate +into this same court, making a most dreadful clattering with their wooden +shoes. As soon as they saw me they exclaimed, ‘Oh! there she is; there +is the lady in the court.’ These poor creatures, whose appearance spoke +a variety of wretchedness, approached and invited me to see the place +destined for my reception. Some of these women took me by the arm and +led me to what they called the dormitory, the place where they slept and +where they worked. I had no sooner entered the door of this infernal +mansion, than I recoiled with terror, but there were many women behind, +who prevented me from running back, otherwise I should have fallen, so +great was my horror at sight of this hall, containing one hundred and +twenty-seven women, whose wretchedness may more easily be imagined than +described. I shrunk back at the sight of this hideous spectacle, while +big tears rolled down my cheeks, and with a voice stifled by the effect +of grief, I said, like a child insensible to what passed around me, ‘Poor +Valois! oh, poor Valois!’ + +“It will be extremely difficult for me to paint the horrors of this +dreadful mansion; every effort is inadequate to give with sufficient +strength of colouring the interior description of this house of misery +and its wretched inhabitants. One would have imagined from their conduct +and behaviour that these women had been reared in the forests, for they +were almost as wild and savage as tigers, having always in their hands +either stones, bottles, or chairs, ready to throw at the head of any +one that displeased them. Every day teemed with new squabbles; they +frequently fought together, and would sometimes beat one another almost +to death. This prison was moreover a seminary of vice and depravity +even too shocking to mention, and, instead of a house for the salutary +correction of their souls, may more justly be denominated the place of +their destruction. + +“I will attempt to give a description of this abode of horrors. The entry +is by a small court about twenty feet broad and forty-four in length. +Opposite the entrance doors are seven dark cabins under a gallery built +upon pilasters. These cabins, or rather dungeons, are in general between +five and six feet long and four and a half broad; in each there is a +straw bed, a mattress, without any furniture, not so much as a chair. +Those women who come thither, and have money, may purchase these cabins +of the old prisoners. In each of these cabins is a window about a foot +and a half square, with no glass, but very thick wooden shutters, +fastened with massive iron bolts. Below these shutters is another small +opening to let the air into these cabins. At the bottom of this court, to +the right, are four stone steps, after which is a little passage which +divides the great dormitory from the little court. On the right is a +small court leading to the great one, to serve as a walk for one hundred +and twenty-seven females, eighty feet long and near sixty wide: the +walls about sixty-two feet high. Opposite the entrance gate of the court +leading to the dormitory is a chamber for one sister, to which there is +an ascent of five steps. + +“Facing the little court is the gate of the dormitory, which is very +low. This dormitory is sixty feet long and thirteen broad: the ceiling +fortified with large strong joists; the wall strengthened in the same +manner. In this dormitory are six beds about five feet in length, +composed also of a truss of straw, a mattress, and two coarse cloth +coverings. Round the beds are benches and some chairs. The right side +of the window is filled with women at work, who have purchased these +places, as I also paid for mine, for I had been obliged to sit down on +the ground in the court, all the places, forty in number, being occupied. +The walls are entirely surrounded with thick shelves, on which the women +put their victuals. Beneath this dormitory is another, the half of which +is below ground, where there are three or four beds in a better air than +the others. Upon the right is a corridor, three feet broad and about +seventy-five feet long, in which there are thirteen cabins much the same +as those of which I have before spoken, with low unglazed windows and +iron bars, so that the miserable inhabitants have no defence from the +inclemency of the seasons, but the rain, wind, hail, and snow beat in +upon the cabins. By mounting upon the window sills, you may see even to +the fourth court, which is called the Court Sainte-Claire, where there +are always a great number of people. Facing the dormitory is a small +staircase conducting to a particular little court which leads into a +square opposite to the chapel of this same prison. On the right is the +cell of the superior sister, Martha. Going out on the right you come +to a court leading to the kitchen, where are three doors to enter the +Salpêtrière, on both sides of which there are turnkeys. As you come out +from the Salpêtrière there are seven courts, and in every court there +are a great number of turnkeys. On the left, opposite the entrance +passage by the Court Sainte-Claire, are two porticos, leading to the +three gates of the Salpêtrière. There are in all nine courts, which you +have to pass before you can leave the hospital. + +“The inhabitants of this den have an old petticoat for clothing, and a +gown of course grey cloth, stockings of the same kind, a coarse shift, +a pair of wooden shoes, and a cap. Every woman is allowed thrice a week +three ounces of boiled beef, on the other days about two pennyworth of +cheese, with fat broth, and five pounds of bread each day. Such is the +regulation allowance for the sustenance of these wretches. Women, who +before have scarce ever had a needle in their hands, are here taught to +work in a short time. Some are taught to stitch wrist-bands, others to +make shirts and all kinds of plain work; their labours are, however, of +no advantage to them.”[378] + +Whilst the countess is doing dreary penance in the Salpêtrière, and +her husband is haunting the London “hells,” waiting the return of the +French ambassador from Paris, to know whether it was intended to do +_him_ what he styles “justice,” a paragraph, no doubt instigated by the +count himself, appears in some of the London newspapers, reproaching him +for his timidity in not publishing a certain justificatory memoir which +had been talked about for some time past. Indeed, so notorious had the +matter become, that the Duke of Dorset writes to Mr. Eden (afterwards +Lord Auckland), special envoy at the French court, under date December 7, +1786—a week before the appearance of the paragraph in question—informing +him that the Count de la Motte was about to publish a memoir in England +respecting the Necklace affair, which, as it would be certain to contain +nothing but falsehoods and calumny, he advises the French government to +get answered immediately on its appearance by some clever fellow, and +suggests the editor of the _Courrier de l’Europe_, who is understood to +be in their pay, as a likely sort of person for the task.[379] + +The count, who is getting rather fond of using his pen, finding it a +convenient weapon wherewith to insinuate his threats, addresses a long +letter to the papers in reply to the aforesaid paragraph, and stating in +explicit terms what he intends to do if this “justice,” for which he is +so anxious, is not speedily done him. It did not, perhaps, occur to the +count that the only justice he was entitled to demand was that already +meted out to him by the highest legal tribunal in his country, namely, +the Court of Parliament, which had sentenced him to the scourge, the +branding-iron, and the galleys. This letter of the count’s we subjoin: + + “To the Printer of the _Morning Chronicle_. + + “Sir, + + “In consequence of a letter inserted in your print of the 13th + instant, I think myself called upon to interrupt a silence + which I meant to keep till the return of Comte d’Adhémar; but + such a conduct, in the actual state of affairs, would only + serve to give weight and add importance to the groundless + reproaches of timidity and indifference laid to my charge. + It is incumbent on me, in this answer to your correspondent, + first to account for the motives that have hitherto engaged me + to silence, and then to give a slight idea of the memorial I + propose to lay before the public for my justification. + + “I arrived in London on the 18th of last May, and have never + since moved from this capital. At that period—previous, as it + appears from the above date, to the conclusion of the famous + process—I had frequent interviews with the French ambassador. + My memorial will contain a circumstantial detail of what passed + between us at each appointment. From the line of conduct which + his excellency struck out for me, as well with respect to M. de + Vergennes as to my comportment before the Parliament of Paris, + and from the secret motives imparted to me of the various + attempts of taking me forcibly away, it will self-evidently + appear that the ambassador looked upon my departure not only as + certain, but that my presence, earnestly desired, and zealously + solicited by the most illustrious personages (whose names I + shall mention), would undoubtedly delay the sentence, and make + the whole affair wear a different aspect. What was the result? + The very personages alluded to, like Comte d’Adhémar, were + imposed upon by a minister who, in appearance, and for form + sake, feigned to second their endeavours, but who in reality + overturned the structure, and brought it to the ground by his + wily manœuvres and contributed alone to extricate the cardinal + from the disagreeable situation in which he was implicated. May + a complete disgrace reward the former for his officiousness! + This is my ardent wish, and his enemies will not fail to + accelerate it by their reiterated solicitations. But I resume + the thread of my subject. + + “Notwithstanding all the instructions he had received, the + ambassador could not, no more than myself, foresee a sentence + such as has been awarded. He was the first to acquaint me with + it, and at the same time hinted at plans which could not but + turn greatly to my advantage, since they tended to give me an + opportunity (which was the first wish of my heart, and for + the obtaining of which I exerted every nerve) of appearing + before the Parliament, and entering upon my justification. His + excellency further assured me, that I should meet with powerful + friends, whose patronage would counterpoise all the credit and + combined efforts of the house of Rohan. + + “As those projects were never called into execution, and as the + supreme power, apprehensive of a minute explanation, pronounced + the cardinal’s fate, I thought it expedient, considering the + promises made to me, to wait the ambassador’s arrival, no + ways doubting but that, in consequence of his account of my + conduct throughout the whole business, some regard would be + paid to it, and justice done me. But if the answer I expect + from his excellency be not satisfactory—if my just demand be + not acceded to, then I shall look upon myself as free to act, + and demonstrate by a detail, equally true and well supported, + by letters which I fortunately have in my possession, and + which will corroborate my assertion, why Mademoiselle d’Oliva + was chosen by me to play a part for half an hour, not on the + terrace, as was purposely given out, but in the interior of the + garden of Versailles. The world shall be informed of the grand + object of this rehearsal, as well as the catastrophe projected + for the first night’s representation, which, by-the-by, did not + take place, on account of the principal performer having been + warned, not indeed of all the snares laid to entrap him, but + secretly put on his guard, not to expose himself imprudently + in places where he was liable to be surprised by his enemies, + who would snatch at every opportunity to effect his ruin. + It will appear that, in consequence of this caution, it was + thought desirable to alter the plan, that it gave rise to the + purchasing of the Necklace (for which I shall account in the + clearest manner _by making special mention of its real owner_, + who made my wife a present of some of the most brilliant + diamonds, which I sold in London as my property), and kept by + much the more considerable part, which may be worn in different + manners, without ever being known by the jewellers: and why? + By the concatenation of those circumstances, which happened + pending the process, my wife and I were abandoned and inhumanly + sacrificed. These illustrations will convince the public that + certain caricature print-makers whom I know, and consequently + despise, aimed at deceiving the judgment, and prepossessing + them against me, by putting in my hand a Necklace, of which I + had a very small share. + + “That the readers may have nothing to wish for, and in order + to point out to them the causes of so tardy a revenge (which + was hatching without success, ever since the death of Louis + XV.), I begin my account at the era of the cardinal’s embassy + at Vienna, and trace every event that has taken place till the + final decision of the famous affair. + + “I am not to be told that my memorial, if published, will, by + the secret and curious anecdotes it contains, raise against me + a host of powerful foes, who will not fail to seek for, and + meet with, sufficient opportunity to wreak their vengeance on + me. But what of that? My intentions shall be fulfilled; and, + whatever be my fate, I shall have the comfort of having left + behind me an authentic justification, and of having unveiled + the whole of the intrigue. And who knows but I may be fortunate + enough to hear one day or other, for the good of my country, + that my memorial has opened the eyes of him who has been kept + so long in the dark! But for that I shall be told the memorial + must not reach him, and all the avenues will be strongly beset. + I am aware of it. But on the other hand, I shall observe that + there exists a powerful party, whose interests it is to forward + it, who have been long employed in working a mine, which only + waits a favourable opportunity for explosion. To hasten this, + if my memorial has, as it were, the effects of a match, I + shall look upon all the misfortunes I have encountered as the + path leading directly to that event, and shall think myself + sufficiently rewarded for the injuries and persecutions I have + experienced. + + “After this declaration, sir, I trust I shall be no longer + reproached with a timidity unknown to me; and that, considering + the infamous manner in which I have been treated, no one will + blame my just resentment. + + “I am, very sincerely, Sir, + + “Your very humble servant, + + “COUNT DE LA MOTTE. + + “No. 10, Charlotte Street, Rathbone Place.”[380] + +That this letter may not fail in its effect, it is again published in +the same newspaper, two days afterwards, _in the original French_. One +can well conceive that the mail-bags that day carried a goodly number +of copies of the journal in question to the French capital, and there +can hardly be a doubt but that the count’s letter, coupled with the note +which the Duke of Dorset had addressed to the English ambassador at +the court of Versailles, and which had been communicated to the French +government, created considerable consternation among the party of the +queen. + + + + +XXXVII. + +DEC., 1786–JUNE, 1787. + +MYSTERIOUS HINTS GIVEN TO THE COUNTESS TO EFFECT HER ESCAPE.—SHE RESOLVES +ON ATTEMPTING IT. + + +It must have been about this time that hints were given to Madame de la +Motte with reference to attempting to escape from her confinement. Her +own version of the manner in which these hints were given is like most of +her statements about herself, strongly tinged with the romantic; still +it is tolerably certain that hints of some kind or another were given to +her. She fixes the date when these overtures commenced not later than +the beginning of December, 1786; but considering that she deferred her +attempt to escape until July of the following year, we should be inclined +to fix it at some later period, and certainly subsequent to the time when +the French court were made acquainted with the letters just referred to. +However, we will let her tell the story in her own words: + +“It was about the latter end of November or the commencement of December, +1786, that one of the soldiers, doing duty as sentinel in the court of +the Salpêtrière, to see that the women made no holes in the dormitory +to escape by the aqueducts, passed the end of his musket through a +broken part of the wall and attempted to touch Angelica, who waited upon +me as a servant, and who was sentenced to be confined for life in the +Salpêtrière. ‘What do you want with me?’ asked Angelica. ‘Is not your +name Angelica?’ said he, softly; ‘are you not the person who waits upon +Madame de la Motte?’ ‘Yes,’ replied she. ‘Very well,’ said he; ‘I heard +many lords and ladies yesterday, in the Palais Royal, mention your name +as being the person who is so attentive to her. Tell me if you want +anything. I always carry about me an ink-stand, paper, &c., which I will +furnish you with, as I know you have not permission to write. Prepare +your letters, if you wish to write to anybody, and I will take charge of +them.’ + +“Angelica thanked him for his kindness, but frankly confessed she could +neither read nor write. + +“‘No matter,’ replied he, ‘there is your mistress, Madame de la Motte; I +would advise you to get her to write for you to the different ladies who +come here, and beg her to recommend you to their goodness.’ + +“Two days after this, about three in the morning, the same soldier again +touched Angelica with his musket, and gave her a packet of gilt paper, +a large bundle of quills, a bottle of ink, and a letter for herself. +‘Madame de la Motte will read it to you,’ said he. Next day Angelica +brought me the letter, at every line of which I was struck with such +astonishment that I could scarce believe my eyes. This mysterious letter +was as follows: + +“Assure yourself, Mademoiselle Angelica, that I shall be extremely +happy if I can be instrumental in procuring your liberty. Command me, +and believe that I shall seize every opportunity of being useful to you +[and, immediately preceding the last line,] ‘UNFORTUNATE, put this letter +before the light—’TIS UNDERSTOOD—be sure to be discreet.’ + +“After having read to Angelica so much of this letter as concerned her, I +made use of some pretext to send her to the dormitory, and the moment I +was alone put the letter to the light, when writing began to appear as if +by the power of magic. At length all was visible, and the following words +astonished my eyes: + +“‘You are earnestly exhorted to keep up your spirits, and to take proper +nourishment, that you may have sufficient strength to support the fatigue +of your journey. PEOPLE are now intent upon changing your condition. +Speak your wishes, and mention the day you are willing to depart, that +a post-chaise may be prepared, which you will find at the corner of +the king’s garden. Be discreet; ’tis your interest to be so. Confide +implicitly in the bearer, without entertaining the smallest suspicion.’ + +“Judge of my astonishment on perusing this mysterious paper! Surely, said +I to myself, I am awake, and in sober certainty of the truth of what I +see. But who can be the persons who have thus interested themselves in +my misfortunes? This singular expression, ‘It is understood,’ was never +used by any person but myself, the cardinal, and the queen. Perhaps they +both, repenting of what they have done, ashamed of having the weakness +to suffer me to be sacrificed, at this moment wish to give me liberty.” + +To this letter Madame de la Motte tells us she wrote an answer to the +effect that she was anxious to escape from her confinement, and begged +her unknown correspondent to aid her in the attempt. In due course, she +received the following reply: + +“PEOPLE have reflected; endeavour to procure the model of the key that +will open easily that side where you wish to go out. Act for the best, +and compose yourself.” + +“For two months,” she says, “I laboured at the attempt, and at length +succeeded in making two designs—one small and the other large—in which I +thought I had fortunately delineated the wards of the key, and which, the +moment I perceived to be perfect, I enclosed in a letter, which I gave +to Angelica to convey to the soldier, who, about a fortnight afterwards, +brought a key made exactly after the paper model. I had the patience to +wait two whole days without sufficient resolution to make the experiment; +but on Sunday, between six and seven in the morning, when Angelica and +myself were together in the gallery, the opportunity seeming favourable, +with a trembling hand and palpitating heart I applied the key to the +lock, when, gracious heaven! what was my surprise and joy at finding +the door open! We both endeavoured as much as possible to conceal our +emotions, and proceeded to try whether this same key would open the other +three doors. In the afternoon of the same day I pulled off my shoes and +crept softly along to the second door, which, to my great joy, was also +obsequious to my touch. I shut it again, ascended the steps softly by +three at a time, all in a tremble for fear of discovery, found, as I +wished, all was fast and everything quiet. I then attempted to open the +door on the other side of the gallery near the second dormitory. This I +did with wonderful facility, and with as little trouble as I had opened +the others.”[381] + +Strange to say that although, according to the countess’s own account, +she was in possession of the means of escape by the end of February +(1787) at the latest, she took no steps to profit by them until three +months afterwards, pretending that, in the interim, she had been engaged +in using her influence with persons of condition to procure the release +of her attendant, Angelica, when all the while she had the means of +releasing her in her own possession. However, the girl eventually obtains +her pardon, and madame has now leisure to attend to her own affairs. + +It was on the 1st of May that Angelica was set at liberty. On the +13th the countess, who has long since found means of carrying on +communications with her former friends, sends a letter by the hands +of “a young _confidante_,” whom she has managed to gain over, to an +old lover of hers, the Baron de Crussol, the same who procured the +Count de la Motte his post in the Count d’Artois’ body-guard, and who, +with his brother, the Bailli de Crussol, were of the queen’s set at +Little Trianon. The baron played _Basile_ in Beaumarchais’ comedy, “The +Barber of Seville,” at the private theatre there, when Marie-Antoinette +performed the part of _Rosina_. This letter, which is all love and +tenderness, contains the customary appeal of the De Valois for pecuniary +assistance. In the course of it the countess tells the baron that the +Duchess de Duras, “_dame du palais_” to the queen, “a very virtuous and +worthy woman,” is going to pay her a visit next week, and then follows +this characteristic passage: “I shall see her alone; the public must not +know of it, as it might get talked about on account of my being forbidden +to see any one _for fear I should speak_.”[382] To return, however, to +the countess’s narrative. “I reflected within myself,” says she, “that +if I should run the hazard of going out in the dress of the Salpêtrière, +I should be easily discovered in the event of being met by any of the +sisters. I conceived also that a male habit would be more favourable for +my escape, and communicated this to my unknown correspondent, to whom I +wrote: + +“‘I wish to have a large blue coat, a flannel waistcoat, black breeches, +a pair of half-boots, a round high-crowned hat, to make me appear taller, +a switch, and a pair of leather gloves.’ + +“All these the guard brought me about ten or twelve days after; he +carried the great-coat under his cloak, the waistcoat in his pocket, +and the switch in the barrel of his musket; and about two nights after +he brought the half-boots and a man’s shirt. Thus furnished with wings +for my flight, I was wholly intent on my game, and, what is not a little +singular, without the least fear of not being able to effect my escape; +not one shadow of doubt presented itself to my imagination, nothing gave +me the least uneasiness; I felt myself quite confident of success, and I +found myself much happier than I had been for a long time. I reflected +that I was under the immediate protection of the queen, and would not +suffer myself to entertain a doubt that it was the queen herself, and no +one else, who had taken this interest in my behalf. + +“After a time, however, a feeling of apprehension came across my mind and +led me to suspect the sincerity of my unknown correspondent. Surely, I +thought to myself, this cannot be a plot concerted to lull me to security +that I may afterwards be more easily got rid of. It cannot be so; they +really wish to render me service, there can be no doubt of it, since I +have the key and the proper dress; but whither will this post-chaise +conduct me?—probably to some convent; and does the queen suppose that I +can be happy there? I will never consent to go to a convent, and only to +some place where I can be free—where I am at liberty. + +“About this time I was not a little surprised by a visit from M. de +Crosne, lieutenant of police. About six o’clock one afternoon I was +conducted to Sister Martha’s apartment, where I saw M. de Crosne, with M. +Martin, secretary, and another person who was a stranger. M. de Crosne +at first did not know me; he appeared much surprised and affected to +find me so reduced, so altered for the worse, and his sensibility deeply +affected me. I read in his face, as in a mirror, how different I then +was from what I had been when he formerly knew me. Affliction had worn +me down almost to a skeleton; my eyes were languid and inanimate. [The +countess used to pride herself on the killing effect of her eyes.] I was, +as it were, but the fleeting shadow of what I had once been in the days +of my prosperity. I stood for some moments unable to articulate a single +syllable. At length, awaking from my reverie, I saluted him, when the +amiable man kindly inquired if there was anything I was in want of, as if +so, he would give the necessary orders. + +“At these words I quite lost myself, and forgetting every consideration +that should have restrained me, I drew near him, and repeated, ‘Want +anything? Oh, sir, it is too much to bear—that I should be thus +confined!’ M. de Crosne, greatly affected, would not suffer me to recite +the melancholy catalogue of my woes, which I was entering into with all +the energy that grief inspired. + +“I could not help thinking that M. de Crosne was sent hither expressly +to see me, and the more I reflected upon this visit of his, the more +suspicious I became. I began to see that they were fearful I should +say too much, and that it was judged expedient rather to endeavour to +soothe than drive me to extremities; for if I had really any ill-will, +any grudge towards the queen, I thought to myself, neither the Baron de +Breteuil nor the lieutenant of police would take the pains to favour me +with the slightest attention.”[383] + +It should be noted that it was at this period, namely, early in the month +of May, that the Duchess de Polignac and her sister-in-law, the Countess +Diane, went to England, ostensibly to drink the Bath waters, but really, +it is believed, to come to terms with Count de la Motte through the +medium of their intimate friend the Duchess of Devonshire.[384] One may +here quote a bit of court gossip contained in a letter dated Versailles, +June 27, 1787, and written to Stanislaus Poniatowski, king of Poland, to +the effect that, on the occasion of this visit, the Duchess de Polignac +paid Count de la Motte four thousand louis for certain letters said to +have been written by the queen. If there is any truth in the story, +these were in all probability copies of the letters purporting to have +been written by Marie-Antoinette, together with the cardinal’s replies, +and which were afterwards published in the Appendix to the Countess’s +Life.[385] Of this visit of the Duchess de Polignac we shall again have +occasion to speak. + +At length the countess takes her final resolution, and fixes upon some +day between the 8th and the 11th of June, either at eleven o’clock in the +morning or six o’clock in the evening, for her escape. The arrangement +was this: the guard was to disguise himself as a waggoner, and with a +whip in his hand, was to walk round the King’s garden (the Jardin des +Plantes) at the times specified on each of the above-mentioned four days. +The attendant who had succeeded Angelica, and whom the countess was +obliged to take into her confidence, begged that she might be permitted +to accompany her. After some hesitation, the countess gave her consent. + + + + +XXXVIII. + +1787. JUNE–JULY. + +THE COUNTESS’S ESCAPE.—A LAST VISIT TO THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF BAR-SUR-AUBE. + + +On the morning of the 11th of June, the last of the four appointed, days, +“Marianne and I, before our departure, took each of us a cup of coffee +to revive our spirits and give us courage. I then proceeded to open +the doors, three of which I fastened again with my key, and the fourth +Marianne pulled towards her. Marianne, who knew the house perfectly +well, took the shortest turnings she could find, believing that I was +following her. I, however, managed to lose sight of her; nevertheless, I +did not lose my courage, but passed on until I found myself in a large +hall wherein were a great number of small beds in each of which was a +child. After having cast my eyes round me, I inquired of the sisters +the way out. I did not well understand the directions they gave me, +but, after traversing many courts, found myself at length in a spacious +court among a number of people who had come to gratify their curiosity +with a sight of this prison. I followed a party who entered the chapel +to view it, taking care to mix myself up with the rest of the company. +After addressing a fervent prayer to heaven to inspire me with courage, +I soon had the gratification of finding myself outside those doors which +I had always looked on as impassable. Here I saw no one but the sisters, +to whom I gave some money as though I were an ordinary visitor, and +at length fortunately reached the high road. Here after some delay I +discovered my good Marianne waiting for me near the river.[386] + +“The King’s garden was crowded with people, but I fortunately managed +to escape observation, and leaped into the boat to Marianne, who was +already there with two strange gentlemen. Fearful of a discovery, I made +signs to her not to speak to me. The two gentlemen were seated; but lest +my awkwardness in my new habiliments should be discovered, I remained +standing. At length we gained the opposite bank, and upon our landing +near the arsenal, that hideous place, the Bastille, opposed itself to my +view. Marianne conducted me through byways and narrow streets until we +found a hackney-coach which took us to Charenton. On arriving there we +stopped at a bootmaker’s to exchange my half-boots for a pair of shoes, +after which we hired a cabriolet, which conveyed us a distance of seven +leagues. We then alighted, and walked till half-past eleven o’clock at +night. + +“We slept at a village called Maison-Rouge, and at six the next +morning pursued our journey on foot till ten in the evening, when we +stopped a few hours to repose ourselves. Here I inquired whether I +could have a cabriolet. I could not, however, be thus accommodated. We +were, therefore, obliged to take a cart, which conducted us about two +miles from Provins. About five in the evening we stopped at the first +cabaret and dined, and after dinner, fearful of being suspected by the +marshalsea, I despatched Marianne to purchase women’s apparel. She +returned with a jacket of narrow-striped red cotton, an apron of the same +stuff, a petticoat striped blue and white, a pair of leather shoes, such +as are worn by peasants, and a pair of very small buckles. We departed +from this inn at six the same evening. + +“The town of Provins was about sixteen leagues from Paris, but I did +not judge it prudent to take the coach from here, there being no other +conveyance besides the post, which I wished as much as possible to avoid. +We proceeded towards the back of the town, where we met a great number +of officers walking together, one of whom I overheard say: ‘Oh! there’s +a woman in man’s clothes.’ When they drew nearer they pulled off their +hats, and begged permission to accompany me. One of these gentlemen’s +professions of service were so very profuse that I found it extremely +difficult to engage him to desist from following me. ‘You are,’ said +he, ‘some young girl but just escaped from a convent, and your lover is +certainly near at hand waiting for you in a post-chaise.’ ‘If such is +your opinion, sir,’ replied I, ‘it is very impolite of you to think of +following me, particularly as you have no right to expect that I should +confess to you, if you should be right in your conjecture.’ At this he +withdrew. I turned towards the left, under a hill, and not being able to +find a place more retired, we concealed ourselves under a verdant recess, +where a brook of water ran down towards the meadow. Here Marianne and I +assumed our new disguise, which made us appear exactly like peasants, +each of us holding in our arms a little basket of eggs, and a pound of +butter neatly covered with a piece of linen, which was bought for that +purpose. I threw my former apparel into the brook, putting stones into +the coat pockets and the hat, that they might sink more easily, and +that no trace of my flight might be discovered. We went five leagues on +foot the same evening, and stopped, about eleven o’clock, at the first +house of entertainment in the suburbs of Nogent,[387] which is about +two-and-twenty leagues from Paris. Here again I was so much fatigued +that, after our supper, poor Marianne was obliged to put me upon her +shoulders, and bring me into the cow-house, and lay me on the straw, for +there was neither bed nor chamber. + +“The day after, about seven, we hired a cart, which conveyed us directly +to Troyes, about nine leagues from Nogent, where we slept till four the +next morning, when we again pursued our journey on foot. On our road we +met a waggoner, who civilly asked us to get up into his cart, a proposal +which we readily accepted. He conveyed us to the town where he lived, +about two leagues distant, but this honest rustic would receive no +money;[388] he would have no other recompense than a promise of marriage, +which I was constrained to give him. I told him that I and my cousin +Marianne had lived at Chaumont, in Champagne, and gave him a fictitious +name and address. On parting with him we were fortunate enough to procure +a farmer’s cart, which took us to Vendeuvre, where we dined, and about +two we set forward again in a covered carriage, which conveyed us seven +leagues further. We passed through Bar-sur-Aube, and at six we were put +down at a village about three leagues from there. + +“When I arrived at this place I wrote letters to some of my husband’s +relations, with which I sent Marianne, who could not find many of the +persons in whom I confided. She went to seek a friend of Madame de la +Tour, sister of M. de la Motte, to whom she sent in my note. This lady +immediately knew my writing, and ran to her wardrobe, and gave Marianne +petticoats, shifts, handkerchiefs, with half a louis, which was all she +had in her pocket, and greatly regretted that she had it not in her +power to do more. She then accompanied her to M. de Suremont, M. de la +Motte’s uncle. This gentleman’s wife, after having coldly received Mdlle. +Charton, which was this young lady’s name, and Marianne, refused to come +and see me. M. de Suremont sent Marianne to desire me to meet him half +way. A place was appointed, and it was about midnight when we met. The +night was extremely dark, and we sat down on the bank of a ditch. M. de +Suremont appeared very glad to see me, but expressed his extreme regret +that he could not accommodate me with more than four louis, telling a +very lamentable story that his buildings had cost him so much money, and +that he was very much in debt. ‘But pray where are you going?’ said he +to me. ‘I am going to London,’ replied I, ‘for the English newspapers +have for a long time mentioned my husband’s name; I dare say he is +there.’”[389] + +The countess makes no mention in her narrative of another of her +Bar-sur-Aube friends coming to see her while she lay concealed in the +stone quarries outside the town—the mother of young Beugnot, to whom, in +her days of affluence, the countess had given the surplus of twenty louis +for her poor pensioners. This noble-hearted lady came out at night to +comfort the wretched wanderer whom she believed to be innocent, and gave +her all the consolation which a pious mind could suggest in a case so +deplorable, returned her the twenty louis with some addition of her own, +and parted with her like a Christian sister.[390] Such was the singular +hold which this extraordinary woman seems to have had on the human heart, +which began when she was a barefooted beggar on the public highway, and +continued even when she was a branded outcast. + +“I did not,” continues the countess, “consider it prudent to return to +the same inn which we had quitted at midnight, as I feared our being +suspected, or taken for thieves, with which all the environs of Chaumont +are greatly infested, I therefore chose to walk the remaining part of +the night. The moon, which was at full, made it extremely pleasant. We +proceeded nearly a mile and a half, but had not advanced far into the +forest before we determined to return again towards the town. We knocked +at the first carbaret we came to, but the people not only refused to open +the door, but threatened to shoot us, taking us, without question, for +thieves. Shivering with cold, we were necessitated to take up our lodging +on the steps of their door till the next morning, and at this season the +nights were extremely cold, and the country wore almost the appearance of +winter. About six in the morning three peasants and a woman passed by, +who had two large dogs with them. I related to them our situation, and we +traversed the forest together as far as Columbey, where we parted. Having +breakfasted, we took the post, which conveyed us seven leagues further. +At six the next morning we recommenced our journey on foot. The day was +terribly hot, and we suffered severely in climbing the mountain, which +is extremely steep, and very high, without any shelter from the intense +heat. Marianne, who was very much troubled with shortness of breath, and +incapable of proceeding any farther, sat down and wept bitterly till, +fortunately, a good old peasant, who was on horseback, offered to take +her behind him, to which she would not consent; but, as his house was +but a short distance, she agreed to take the good old man’s arm, while I +seated myself on the horse. Taking Marianne’s bundle, I gave the reins to +the horse, who brought me to the house before his master, where the old +man’s daughter, who was lately married, recognized the beast. I briefly +related to her the circumstance which procured me the pleasure of seeing +her, whereupon she despatched one of her sisters to the curate’s house +to fetch some fish, and some of the best wine from another neighbour. +Marianne was also well received. We were afterwards presented to the +husband; and this good family lodged us with kindness. Not only did +they regale us with a good supper of pigeons, and excellent fish, and +delicious wine, but they accommodated us with their own bed, where we +slept soundly for six hours. After a good breakfast we departed at ten in +their cart to reach Joinville, these good people refusing to receive a +single son for their entertainment. + +“The keeper of a carbaret where we had sought shelter from a violent +storm consented to conduct us as far as Nancy; and the rain having +subsided, we availed ourselves of this proposal of our host, and +continued our journey till we came into the midst of the most dismal +forest I ever saw. It seemed a place perfectly adapted for the black +business of robbery or murder. Here another terrible storm came on, and +we travelled in the midst of a heavy shower for almost two hours and a +quarter. It was now near ten o’clock, and we were still in a hollow, one +side of which bordered another forest reputed to be most dangerous, and +along the skirts of which our road lay for a distance of some miles. I +could not but feel alarmed, and what added to my fears was, that I had +not the least knowledge of that road. Our conductor was also a very +ill-looking fellow, and his conduct was such, that though I cannot +say he had really any bad design, yet his behaviour was sufficiently +equivocal to make me suspicious. After a dreary ride of a couple of +hours I discovered a light: it is impossible to express how welcome that +discovery was, as it dispelled those apprehensions which the darkness +of the night had made more terrible. Our guide now composed himself a +little, and told me he was going to bait his horse, after which we might +pursue our journey. ‘Most certainly,’ replied I; but when we arrived at +the inn, which was at about midnight, I determined to take some rest. + +“We sat down to supper, and I told our guide that we did not choose to +expose ourselves any more that night, as his horse seemed to be so much +fatigued. This determination did not seem agreeable to him; he stormed +and swore, but all to no purpose. ‘I am determined,’ said I resolutely, +‘not to proceed till six o’clock in the morning.’ We did, indeed, set +out an hour sooner, but then there was no danger; though, when he put us +down upon an eminence on the side of Nancy, I really thought he seemed to +quit us with an air of regret at having failed of his prey. After having +dined at Nancy, we took a voiture, which conducted us to Lunéville, where +we stopped and slept at the Hôtel du Saint-Esprit, from whence the next +morning I wrote to M. Aminot, my cousin, an officer in the gendarmes. +I took the precaution not to sign my name to this billet, in which I +merely mentioned that a lady, one of his father’s acquaintances, wished +to communicate some news from his family. Upon the receipt of my billet +he did not lose a moment, but followed Marianne, who introduced him to +my chamber. He approached me: ‘Really, madame,’ said he, ‘I have not +the honour to recollect you.’ ‘Do you not know your unhappy cousin?’ +said I. I could utter no more; my sensations checked my tongue. He also +appeared greatly astonished. ‘Is it possible, my dear cousin,’ said he, +‘that this can be you?’ He then embraced me affectionately, but his +joy at meeting me could only be equalled by his surprise. The evening +before my arrival, he had received letters from Paris, one of which he +showed me, which mentioned my surprising escape from the Salpêtrière, +observing, that there were flying reports that the queen had facilitated +my escape. My cousin and I spent two or three days together; and as I +communicated to him my desire to pass through Switzerland, though without +explaining my motive, he gave me in writing the plan of my route, which +was by Luxembourg. After this interval of rest, Marianne and I pursued +our journey, at five in the morning, on foot. We went eleven leagues this +day; and the next, not being able to procure a coach, we were obliged +to walk nine leagues further. After this fatigue I really was fearful +that I should lose my companion, who was most violently attacked with +asthma; and for five days the physician and surgeon were doubtful of her +recovery. As soon as Marianne was in a condition to support herself, we +took a voiture for Metz, where we slept, and the next day departed for +Thionville, about ten leagues from thence. The diligence put us down at +the sign of the ‘Three Kings,’ kept by one Phillips.” + +This inn appears to have been a regular place of resort for the officers +quartered in the town, and the countess pretended that, owing to certain +consequential airs she indiscreetly gave herself, her incognito was more +than suspected by these gentlemen, who importuned her with their visits +and invitations to prolong her stay in the town, which of course only +made her the more anxious to get away. + +“We proceeded on our journey,” resumes Madame de la Motte, “and slept at +Etauche; and the next day we departed in a tilted carriage. My intention +was to go into Switzerland, and to remain a short time at some frontier +town, from whence I could write to M. de la Motte, conceiving this was +the only chance of being secure, and that Providence, which had so long +guided and supported me, now granted me my wish, and directed me to an +hospitable mansion inhabited by the most worthy, the most charitable of +beings.” + +Here they stopped to bait their horses, and were pressed by the hostess +to stay. “‘If, madam,’ observed she, ‘you have any fears of being upon +French ground, instantly dismiss them; nobody has any power over you +here.’ ‘I have no fear,’ replied I; ‘but I am in want of money, and wish +to write to my family.’ ‘Very well,’ replied this good creature, ‘for +that very reason I insist that you shall remain with me; you can write +from hence.’ About two days after I wrote to M. de la Motte, under cover +to Mr. McMahon, his friend in London, to which I received an answer in +about ten days, to the effect that he would make inquiries for some +proper person that he could trust, whom he would send to fetch us as soon +as possible. Three weeks, however, passed away without any emissary from +my husband. At this time my good hostess had no idea who I was: a report +gained ground, and even reached the military society at Luxembourg, that +there was a person at the house of Madame Schilss with a tall, stout +girl, who perfectly answered the description of Madame de la Motte and +the girl Marianne. I was every day visited by a great number of officers, +both old and young, then residing in the village, who constantly prefaced +their visits with expressions of condolence, observing how very dull it +must be for me to be alone in a place so destitute of amusement. The +Chevalier de Curel, of a family at Langres, appeared to be one of those +most officious in circulating the report that I was the Countess de la +Motte, which made me tremble for the consequences, and I conceived that, +by associating my hostess in my confidence, she might find some means +of silencing these reports. I therefore trusted her, leaving everything +to her discretion. This good lady rendered me very essential service; +for when persons came to make inquiries of her, she amused them with +different stories, and at the same time enjoyed the most profound secrecy +on every one of them. + +“These reports made me extremely unhappy, particularly as I had not +received any further news from London, though the letter which I had +received led me to hope that I should shortly have another to apprise me +of the day when somebody would come to fetch me. At length, about the +27th of July, in the afternoon, a lady and gentleman came to inquire +for me. Madame Schilss, informed that I had been long in expectation of +some persons from England, was very well pleased. She introduced them as +persons she could trust, and my own confidence was increased when the +lady presented me with a letter from M. de la Motte.” + +Accompanied by this lady, who proved to be Mrs. McMahon, Madame de la +Motte travelled first of all to Brussels and from there to Ostend, +whence, after a forty-two hours’ passage, the pair arrived safe at Dover. + +“At seven we took the route for London,” continues Madame de la Motte, +“where we arrived at seven the next morning, and at nine my eyes were +greeted by the sight of M. de la Motte. It is not my intention,” remarks +the countess in her most sentimental vein, “to attempt to describe those +mutual transports which glowed in either bosom at this interview. The +situation, the circumstances of the parties, will raise corresponding +emotions in the bosom of sensibility which will convey my idea more +strongly than all the pomp of diction that may captivate the ear, but not +impress the soul.”[391] + + + + +XXXIX. + +AUG. 1787–APRIL, 1789. + +IN LONDON.—THE COUNTESS GIVES UP FORGERY AND TAKES TO CALUMNY. + + +“I remained a fortnight,” continues Madame de la Motte, “at the house +of Mrs. McMahon, in the Haymarket, without venturing abroad to take the +air, fearing lest I should be discovered. Every coffee-house in the +neighbourhood of this place was filled with persons, many of whom were +foreigners, eager to gratify their curiosity by seeing me. To prevent the +inconvenience of being stared and pointed at, my friend, Mrs. McMahon, +contrived to take me out about nine or ten o’clock in the evening.” + +The countess tells us that she found her husband in great distress, +waiting impatiently the moment when his unfeeling uncle and aunt, +Monsieur and Madame de Suremont, would send over such property of his as +remained in their hands. The count had not long to wait, it appears, for +the De Suremonts arrived in London a few days after Madame de la Motte, +when they delivered to him a “ring, which had formed the stud of the +Necklace; a watch-chain which,” says the count, “I sold for fifty pounds +sterling; and a box I had taken in exchange, and which I sold to Gray for +sixty pounds. Restoring these three articles, they told me that they were +all they had been able to preserve of our jewels. Having had full leisure +to invent these falsities, and persuaded that I could not have been +informed of their conduct and the depredations they had committed on my +property, they spared no pains to convince me of the truth of what they +said, which would indeed have appeared reasonable had my intelligence not +been so well founded. + +“Affecting to be satisfied with what they had delivered to me, I, the +same day, procured a writ to be issued, hoping thereby to frighten them +into a surrender of the remaining jewels; but they imagining, from the +inquiries they had made, and the advice they had received, that I could +not by any means molest them, pretended to show the utmost indignation at +my conduct, and finally declared that they had nothing left belonging to +me; that they had sold every article; and that, could they have foreseen +the ingratitude I now evinced towards them, they would have given up all +my jewels to the government. + +“Judging from their resolute tone that something more than words was +requisite to bring them to a sense of justice, I insisted no farther, +but, urged by necessity, put the writ into the hands of a sheriff’s +officer, who soon after, though much to my regret, arrested my uncle, a +man of property, childless, enjoying the first offices in the place of +his residence, and possessing the esteem of all its inhabitants, and whom +I really respected. The case was otherwise with his beloved consort, a +despicable woman, detested by all who knew her, who, I am certain, had +prevailed upon her husband to be guilty of such a piece of meanness and +injustice. The moment she saw him arrested she came to me, urging my +acceptance of bills to the amount of my claims, still assuring me she +had nothing of mine, and that she was going to part with some of her +own property to purchase her husband’s release. Finding she could not +make me accede to the terms she proposed, she ended by acknowledging +everything, and departed to fetch what she had asserted upon oath had +been surrendered to government. + +“On her return she gave up two rings that had belonged to the Necklace, a +pair of drop earrings (out of which she had taken four diamonds, which I +only perceived after we parted), a hoop ring, a neck-button, a hair-ring, +set round with stones, and another ring of small value. The day after +this forced restitution my relations returned to their own home, where +they have shared the remainder of the spoil; I have not heard of them +since, excepting being informed, in a circumstantial manner, of all the +havoc they have made in my house at Bar-sur-Aube, and of the contempt +they have drawn upon themselves by their behaviour to me.”[392] + +The count informs us that he sold the articles which he so fortunately +recovered to Gray the jeweller, who, spite of the part he took in the +Necklace trial, was still ready enough to buy any more diamonds that +the De la Mottes had to sell. The amount which the count received for +these trinkets—all that remained to them of the famous Necklace—was two +thousand two hundred pounds, a mere per-centage on the sixty thousand +pounds at which the matchless jewel was originally valued, but still a +nice enough little sum of money for people in a “hard-up” condition. +True, it would not go very far in supporting even an approach to that +state to which the De la Mottes had accustomed themselves, and which the +hard fare and dismal cells of the Salpêtrière had not entirely destroyed +madame’s taste for. Unfortunately “some people having learned that the +count’s relations had brought him nearly sixty thousand livres’ worth +of diamonds, eager to share the spoil, swore false debts against him. I +myself,” says madame, “saw him arrested five times for different sums. +M. de la Motte’s attorney availed himself of this, and advised him, to +use his own expression, to rid himself at once of these troublesome +scoundrels by giving a gratuity of two hundred louis to one and one +hundred and fifty louis to another, while eighty louis were given to +an attorney who had never once appealed to the laws in favour of his +unfortunate client, from whom he had frequently received different sums +to extricate him from real or fictitious embarrassments.” + +Such being the state of affairs means have to be found to replenish +the almost empty exchequer. The count has recourse, no doubt, to the +gaming-table, for all his life he has been an inveterate gambler. The +countess, on whom her sentence has had this wholesome effect, it had +cured her of her propensity for forgery and theft, bethinks herself that +calumny, if the envenomed shaft be only skilfully aimed, might yield a +golden prize. This contemplated slandering of the queen “was an arrow I +still preserved,” says Madame de la Motte, “as the best in my quiver, +resolving to threaten, but not to shoot till reduced to the very last +extremity.”[393] In pursuance of this resolution, rumours are wafted +abroad—care being especially taken that they shall cross the Channel +and penetrate to the royal apartments at Versailles—to the effect that +the Countess de la Motte is engaged in writing her “Mémoires,”—the very +titles of the chapters of which she had managed to get published in +the English newspapers,—wherein she intends to give “an exact detail of +the extraordinary events which contributed to raise her to the dignity +of confidant and favourite of the Queen of France, with some further +particulars relative to the mysterious transaction of the Diamond +Necklace.”[394] + +If Count de la Motte is to be believed, the Duchess de Polignac made at +this period a second visit to England, again “to drink the Bath waters.” +Our opinion, however, is that, either by accident or design, he has put +forward the date of the visit (which it is quite certain the duchess made +early in May, returning to France at the end of June)[395] for upwards +of a month; for Madame de la Motte, according to her own statement, did +not arrive in England until the early part of August. Either the case +is as we have suggested, or else the countess arrived in England more +than a month earlier than she represents herself to have done. Supposing +this to be the fact, the visit of the duchess now alluded to would +be the same visit of which we have already spoken.[396] The count in +his autobiography states that, soon after his wife arrived in London, +he received a message from the Duchess of Devonshire (the beautiful +Georgiana), begging him to call upon her at Devonshire House. The count +goes there, and on being introduced into the drawing-room is presented to +the Duchess de Polignac and her sister the Countess Diane, who observe +to him that, having come over to drink the Bath waters, and having heard +that Madame de la Motte proposed publishing some memoirs, they thought +they might perhaps be of service to her—in other words, might save her +from fresh persecutions, and insure her the means of an honourable +existence for the future. + +On the count communicating all this to his wife, she immediately +resolved, he says, to leave London with the least possible delay, for +she feels certain that the intention is to kidnap her and take her back +to the Salpêtrière, and threatens she will throw herself into the Thames +if her husband will not leave London with her that very day. The count, +knowing that she was quite capable of carrying out her threat, wrote to +the Duchess of Devonshire, explaining his wife’s fears, and informing the +duchess of her resolution. De la Motte, in answer to the Abbé Georgel’s +assertion that Madame de Polignac bought the MS. of the “Mémoires,” +affirms that at this time not a line of them was written, and never +would have been written, had it not been for M. de Calonne (madame’s old +friend and ex-controller-general), who called a few days afterwards and +suggested that the “Mémoires” should be at once written, so as to profit +by the offer of the queen. With this view he introduced to them a M. de +la Tour, a writer in the _Courrier de l’Europe_ to throw their rough +notes into shape; and in consequence the countess at once set to work, +and produced her celebrated “Mémoires Justificatifs.” Supposing this +statement to be true, the chances are, that the Duchess de Polignac, in +the settlement she made with the De la Mottes, provided for these memoirs +never seeing the light. In one of those letters of court gossip, from +which we have made frequent quotations, it is explicitly stated that +Madame de Polignac was assured that “these writings would not appear.” +The queen, who was no doubt gratified at the success which she believed +had attended the Duchess’s negotiations, had all the apartments of the +latter newly furnished at her own expense just before the duchess’s +return from her mission, and went, accompanied by the king, to sup with +her on the evening of her arrival.[397] One can plainly see that the +spirit which pervades this book of Madame de la Motte’s was prompted by +an axiom of which she is herself the author, and which is to be found +in the second volume of her “Life.” “_No calumny_,” says she, “_is +so certain to be believed as that which one woman propagates against +another_.”[398] In the midst of the long string of infamous slanders in +these so-called Justificatory Memoirs, with which the writer has sullied +for all time the name of a noble-hearted, if somewhat erring woman, +there occurs this passage: “If the Queen of France were not what she is, +should I have been to her what a defenceless bird is in the hands of a +froward child, who, after being amused with it for a few moments, strips +it of its feathers one by one, and then throws it into the destructive +talons of a devouring animal?” Most people, after reading these “Mémoires +Justificatifs,” will be inclined to reverse the application of the above +simile, and will look upon poor Marie-Antoinette as the defenceless bird, +and seek for the devouring animal, with its destructive talons, in Jeanne +de St. Remi de Valois. + +When the MS. of these “Mémoires” was completed, it was sent to M. +de Calonne, who, according to the count, altered it to suit his +own purposes. Madame says that the ex-minister even added indecent +expressions against the queen—his aim being to get recalled to France +and to secure the restoration of the blue ribbon of which he had been +deprived. With this object in view, armed with the De la Motte libel, the +ex-minister writes to Versailles, offering terms. The queen, however, +rejects his proposal with disdain. Calonne now desires to have the MS. +printed without delay, and for this purpose orders type and presses to be +sent to the house where the De la Mottes reside, so that the work may be +done in all secrecy. + +During its progress, the ex-controller-general seems to have carried +on an intrigue of another kind with the countess, and one which was, +moreover, so notorious as to be openly referred to in the scandalous +publications of the time.[399] He used to twit her about the branding +she had received, and on one occasion, when the countess was boasting +in a large assembly of the capital hand she held at picquet, he +spitefully observed she had better be careful, or she would certainly be +_marked_.[400] Some little misunderstanding which occurred between the +pair made them thenceforth at daggers-drawn with each other. + +Just about this time, a new ambassador from the French court arrives in +England—the Marquis de la Luzerne, brother of the Bishop of Langres, the +countess’s early patron, and reputed lover. He has heard of Calonne’s +proceedings, and loses no time in sending an envoy to the De la Mottes, +to point out to them that Calonne will be certain to play them false, +and to make arrangements for an interview. Calonne gets scent of what +is going on, and tries to carry off the MS., but does not succeed. The +interview with the ambassador takes place; Count de la Motte shows M. de +Luzerne the MS., with Calonne’s corrections and interlineations, and it +is arranged that the ambassador shall make a definitive proposition so +soon as he has received instructions from Paris. Calonne hears of this +interview, goes to the De la Mottes, and demands the restitution of the +MS.; threatening all the terrors of the law if they do not comply. The +count remains firm, and madame, by the aid of an English naval officer, +who subsequently translated her “Mémoires” into English, shows up the +ex-French minister of finance in a pamphlet, which she styles, “A Scourge +for Calonne,” and which goes off like wildfire, copies fetching as much +as six louis each in Paris on its first appearance.[401] The Marquis de +la Luzerne, having received his instructions, communicates them to the +count. He is commissioned to make an offer of ten thousand livres a year, +with fifty thousand livres down, to enable the De la Mottes to discharge +their more pressing debts. The countess, according to her husband’s +account, is opposed to accepting this very liberal offer, talks very +big about her position before the world, clearing her character, &c.; +the count, however, thinking that the solid pudding is to be preferred +to all this, over-persuades his wife, and they give their acquiescence. +The money is to be speedily forthcoming; but, unfortunately, one +of those proverbial slips between the cup and the lip now chances. +Cardinal-Archbishop Loménie de Brienne is dismissed from his office of +prime minister, and M. Necker is summoned to occupy his place, and M. +Necker will have nothing whatever to do with a De la Motte negotiation +in any shape or form. Such is the count’s version of this affair of the +“Mémoires,” but, like everything else from the De la Motte mint, it must +be received with suspicion.[402] + +When or how the MS. of these “Mémoires,” of Madame de la Motte’s was sold +to the French court, we have no means of ascertaining; but that it was +sold, and that after the sale the “Mémoires” were published in breach +of good faith, is a moral certainty. In all probability the Duchess de +Polignac negotiated the purchase, which was likely enough carried out +through the medium of the French ambassador, the statement about M. +Necker being a falsehood concocted to conceal the fact of any sale of the +MS. taking place. Madame Campan asserts, in the most solemn manner, that +she herself had seen, “in the queen’s hands, a manuscript of the infamous +memoirs of the woman Lamotte, which had been brought to her from London, +and which were corrected by the very hand of M. de Calonne in all those +places where a total ignorance of the usages of the court had made this +wretch commit the most palpable errors.”[403] + +In the doubtful Lamballe Memoirs this Princess is represented as giving +a most circumstantial account of her having become the purchaser of a +printed copy of Madame de la Motte’s “Mémoires Justificatifs” corrected +by the hand of M. de Calonne, and of the existence of which she was first +made acquainted by a letter addressed to her by Sheridan. This occurred +immediately subsequent to a visit paid by her to England where she went +on two occasions—once during July 1787,[404] and a second time in June +1791.[405] On the receipt of the work in question she delivered it, she +says, to the queen, who at once brought it beneath the notice of Louis +XVI. in proof of Calonne’s villainy. Had the princess’s narrative stopped +here we might have felt disposed to put faith in it, but, unfortunately +for its claims to be regarded as authentic, it goes on to say that the +king forthwith indignantly ordered Calonne to resign his portfolio, and +that the minister begged permission to return it to the king with his own +hands. On this request being granted, the book was produced, and a scene +ensued which ended in the king leaving the room, and Calonne falling upon +his knees before Marie-Antoinette and imploring her to pardon him.[406] +Now as Calonne was dismissed from office, and exiled from Paris in April +1787, three months before the Princess de Lamballe’s first visit to +England, and more than four years before her second, and was never called +upon to serve the king afterwards, and as moreover Madame de la Motte’s +first libel, her “Mémoires Justificatifs,” was not printed until 1789, +it is quite certain that there is not a particle of truth in the above +narrative, which induces us to believe that the so-called “Mémoires +relatifs à la Famille Royale de France” claiming to be based on a private +journal of the Princess de Lamballe’s, are, like many other pretended +Memoirs of the time, nothing more than a clumsy forgery. + +Madame de la Motte herself indirectly admits that it was the desire of +pecuniary gain rather than any particular anxiety to “clear her character +before the world,” which induced the publication of her “Justificatory +Memoir.” “My husband,” says she, “standing on the very brink of +ruin”—they had received since they had been in England two thousand two +hundred pounds for their diamonds, and at least as much more we should +suppose for the MS. of the “Mémoires,” so that if this statement is +true, they must have dissipated between four and five thousand pounds in +the course of a couple of years—“was necessitated to have recourse to +printing my ‘justification’ as the only means of satisfying the craving +demands of his creditors, whom he was obliged to avoid, as they made +every effort to arrest him; while I, with misery like a vulture gnawing +at my heart, and poverty chasing even at my very heels, detesting that +burden of life which it is yet my duty to support, and, God forgive me! +cursing the hour of my birth, remained defenceless—unable to protect +myself from insult, or to ward off the blows which malice aimed at my +reputation. + +“M. de la Motte printed five thousand ‘Mémoires’ in French and three +thousand in English, confident, from the advice he had received, that +the queen would not suffer them to be published, though I constantly +represented to him the absurdity of this belief.... How could he hope the +government would make terms with us, when they knew that the original +MS. of the ‘Mémoires’ was in the possession of M. de Calonne, who could +make it public whenever he thought proper?[407] It never accorded with +my sentiments,” continues the countess, “to enter into any pecuniary +negotiations with the government; the only thing I had at heart was the +vindication of my honour; and, had I been left to my own discretion, +neither sceptres nor crowns should have purchased my silence.” + +This was a safe enough reservation, as neither sceptres nor crowns were +likely to be offered even to a descendant of the house of Valois; but we +question whether madame could have withstood the temptation of a certain +number of _billets_ of the bank of France, had these been tendered to +her, for times were hard with the De la Mottes, and it was necessary +above all things to “put money in the purse.” At any rate, she would +have promised to keep silence, would have taken the money, and then have +broken her word. + +It must be remembered that all the time this bargaining is going +forward for the sale and purchase of these wretched libels, Paris—nay, +France itself—is in a state of ferment, what with the meeting of its +states-general, the quarrels of its first and third orders, the braving +of the royal authority, the dismissal of Necker; with troops constantly +under arms, riots out of which bloodshed arises in the streets, the +tocsin sounding from all steeples, attacks upon the prisons, the +states-general in permanent session, to be followed ere long by the +storming and capture of the Bastille—in other words, a Revolution! + + + + +XL. + +APRIL, 1787–MAY, 1792. + +THE COUNT HAWKS THE LIBELS ABROAD.—IS IMPRISONED IN LA FORCE AND THE +CONCIERGERIE.—THE LAST OF THE DE LA MOTTE LIBELS. + + +Count de la Motte, having circulated copies of his wife’s “Mémoires +Justificatifs” among the London booksellers and in other directions, and +being, as usual, involved in debt, thinks it prudent to make an excursion +to Holland, where he believes some business in these libels may be done; +for it is, reasons he, just as easy to smuggle copies of them into France +over the Flemish frontier as across the British Channel, and we all +know that Mynheer has never been particular as to the character of the +wares he trades in. To Holland, therefore, the count goes in the month +of April, 1789. In tracing his career from this date we have but few +materials to guide us beyond his own posthumous “Mémoires,”[408] which +abound in evident exaggerations, and no less evident falsehoods. The +reader is therefore cautioned to accept the count’s statements with the +same reserve which we have already asked of him in respect to many of the +assertions of the countess. Truth would seem to have held no place in the +De la Motte system of morals. + +Before the count had brought his negotiations respecting an edition of +his wife’s “Mémoires” to a close, news comes across the Low Countries of +a rising of the people of Paris and the fall of the Bastille. The count +forthwith borrows fifteen louis from one of his Dutch acquaintances, +with whose daughter he has been flirting up to a point that her father +speaks seriously to him of matrimony, and hurries off to Paris, where he +arrives on the 18th of August. He at once addresses himself to Bailly, +the newly-elected mayor, from whom he asks a safe-conduct until the +judgment against him in the Necklace affair can be brought before the +new tribunals. He next has an interview with Mirabeau, who, he says, +had already heard of his arrival, and informed the Duke d’Orléans of +it, telling the duke at the same time they might reckon upon the count +joining them in the attack which they contemplated making upon the +“Austrian she-wolf” (Marie-Antoinette). The count thereupon calls on the +duke, who proposes to him that he shall present a petition at the bar of +the National Assembly, and subsequently supplies him with funds through +Mirabeau. + +The count tells a mysterious story of some unknown individual calling +upon him at this period, and making an appointment for him to be, +between twelve and one o’clock at night, in the Avenue de Paris, at +Versailles, near the iron railings of the château, where he would find +Mirabeau, disguised in a long blue cloak and round hat. The count keeps +the appointment, and meets with Mirabeau as described, and receives from +him a form of petition, which he is to copy out by six o’clock in the +morning, and then return the original draft. Mirabeau, he says, called at +his hôtel at the time named, when he handed him the copy of the petition, +and pretended that the draft was destroyed, pointing at the same time to +some fragments of burnt paper in the grate, as proof of the fact. Out of +this draft petition, in Mirabeau’s handwriting, the count sees his way +to make some money. Without loss of time he takes it to M. de Montmorin, +minister for foreign affairs, informs him of the nature of the intrigue +which is going on, and explains who are the prime movers in it. By this +means he gains over the minister, who is, of course, all affability, and +speaks to him of the offer made some time back by M. de la Luzerne, which +offer, he says, he is quite prepared to carry out. From this moment the +count is in clover; for he obtains bribes from both parties, each of whom +he of course sells to the other. After a time, matters being considered +ripe, Mirabeau urges him to come to the bar of the National Assembly, +and present his petition; but this the count is indisposed to do. He +pretends, therefore, that he has consulted two advocates, both of whom +advise him that the Assembly is not competent to deal with his case, and +so manages to shuffle out of the affair, thereby however cutting himself +adrift from the Orléans party. + +Count de la Motte, it seems, has an old score to clear off with Father +Loth for what he professes to regard as his contemptible betrayal of the +countess in the Necklace affair. He ascertains that, as a reward for +his treachery, the De Rohan family have got Loth appointed one of the +brotherhood of the Knights of Malta, with comfortable quarters in the +Temple. To the Temple, therefore, the count hies, armed with a stout +club, with which he proposes knocking out poor Father Loth’s brains. +“I know not,” says the count, “whether he was warned, or whether he +recognised me wandering about the Temple, but the fact is he quitted the +place abruptly, and I could never find out what became of him;” a lucky +result for Father Loth, who thereby preserved his customary modicum of +brains in an uncracked skull. + +The famous march of women to Versailles took place at this period, +and the Paris papers announced that Madame de la Motte led the column +of Mœnades, who went to storm the château. This was a piece of pure +invention, for the countess was still residing in England, where, +according to the count, overtures were from time to time made to her +by the agents of the Duke d’Orléans. M. de Montmorin, hearing of this, +proposes furnishing an apartment for the countess, and providing her with +funds to come to Paris, so that she may be beyond the duke’s influence; +but the countess, having a wholesome dread of the branding-iron, +and fearing that a “C” (_calomniatrice_) might be added to the “V” +(_voleuse_) which already graced her shoulders, and having, too, the +terrors of the Salpêtrière before her eyes, prefers remaining where she +is, spite of Orléanist agents and other ills by which she is beset, a +resolution which, as we shall presently see, proved most unfortunate for +her. + +Some short time after the receipt of the countess’s letter wherein she +expresses the above determination, news reaches the count of a most +frightful accident having befallen his wife, and almost immediately +afterwards comes a long letter from herself, written on her bed of +suffering, corroborative of the dismal intelligence. The count—who is +openly living with a notorious courtesan of the period, _la belle impure +Seymour_, as she was styled[409]—takes the matter very coolly; writes, +no doubt, a short sympathizing note in reply, but as for hastening to +the bedside of his dying wife, to watch beside it even for a few hours, +and speak to her those few kind words of comfort which might have +helped to assuage her sufferings and lighten the gloom of her departing +moments, this never enters into the man’s thoughts. The summer days pass +pleasantly enough with him; he can lounge in the Palais Royal gardens in +the morning, and in the Palais Royal gambling saloons at night, and it is +only from the hawkers in the streets that he gains intelligence of his +wretched wife’s death. Hearing the news shouted out on the boulevards, +he buys one of the broadsides and turns into a neighbouring café to read +it, takes it all for granted, and, so far as we can discover, troubles +himself no further on the subject. + +Deprived of his helpmate, the miserable woman on whose mendicancy, vices +and crimes he had lived from the very day that he married her, the count +has now to labour single-handed against the government, and after a time +against society itself, for the means of subsistence. He obtains an +audience of M. Duport du Tertre, minister of justice, whom he presses +with reference to a rehearing of the process against him in the Necklace +affair, and from whom he asks, and eventually obtains, a letter _d’ester +à droit_, which confers the right of appearing before a court of law +spite of the judgment of the Parliament of Paris, still hanging over +him. Of course if the count can get the case reheard, and the judgment +set aside, all the De la Motte property seized at Bar-sur-Aube would be +restored to him. Duport du Tertre was by no means opposed to this course, +for though a minister of the crown, he sympathised with that party who +wished to bring Marie-Antoinette before the new tribunals with reference +to her share—for they persisted in believing her to have had a share—in +the Necklace transaction.[410] Meanwhile, by some skilful manœuvring of +his own, the count is brought into communication with M. de Laporte, +intendant of the civil list, keeper, in fact, of the king’s privy purse, +who, he says, tells him that the king, having heard so good an account +of his opinions, and conduct, and devotion to his person, has accorded +him a certain credit on the civil list, and has commanded Laporte to say +that justice shall certainly be done him in the Necklace affair. And as a +sort of earnest of what the count is to expect in future, M. de Laporte +at parting places in his hand a sealed packet, containing two thousand +four hundred francs in assignats. + +Time wears on, the troubles of the court increase, and the flight of the +royal family from Paris is decided on. The count asserts that it was +arranged for him to accompany an old friend of his, ex-mayor of Lyons, +in a carriage, in which a large amount of specie was to have been stowed +away, and that they were to have kept a short distance ahead of the royal +party. For some reason not given, this arrangement, which we do not +believe was ever made, is not carried out. + +The count, with whom the revision of the Necklace process has become +a fixed idea, persistently bores the minister of justice to order a +rehearing before one of the new courts, and in November, 1791, by the +king’s direction, according to the count, a sort of council is held, at +which M. Duport du Tertre presides, when it is decided that the count +shall appeal to the third tribunal. The president of this is a certain +M. de Plane—believed to be amenable to court influence,—who, the count +tells us, fought by the side of his father at the battle of Minden, and +promises to do all he can to assist the son of his old comrade. + +No sooner is this decision arrived at than the count obtains one thousand +crowns from Laporte, who asks him to call upon him at the Tuileries +that evening. The count goes, and to his astonishment finds himself in +the presence of the king. His first movement, he tells us, is to throw +himself at his sovereign’s feet. On his rising, the king informs him +that, from what he has heard, and the good opinion which he has himself +formed of him, he has decided to grant him all that he asks. He then +inquires of the count whether he happens to have with him the original +draft of the petition drawn up by Mirabeau. Of course, the count has +brought his portfolio, and instantly produces the document in question. +“_Le misérable!_” exclaims the king, “he deserved his fate;” which +observation of his majesty satisfies the count Louis XVI. was not +ignorant that Mirabeau had been poisoned. The son of the Chevalier of St. +Louis, and former gendarme at Lunéville, having declared to his sovereign +that he was ready to shed his last drop of blood for him, now makes his +obeisance, and retires from the royal cabinet. + +On January 4, 1792, Count de la Motte, having taken the precaution to +go the day beforehand to La Force, and choose his cell just as a man +might engage the most convenient vacant room at an hotel, proceeds to +constitute himself a prisoner. His apartment being somewhat damp, he +orders a large fire to be made, and retires to rest for the night, +but is, by-and-by, aroused from his sleep by a sense of suffocation. +Springing out of bed, he finds his cell on fire, and shouts loudly for +assistance. After a time he is rescued, but not until his hair is singed +half off his head, and his great-coat burnt, more or less, to tinder. +Hébert’s “Père Duchesne” came out the next day with an accusation against +the “Austrian she-wolf,” of having caused the prison to be set on fire +to consume both M. de la Motte and the documents he was on the eve of +producing implicating her in the Necklace affair. From La Force the +count is transferred to the Conciergerie, and on the second day of his +arrival there his old friend and former barber, Burlandeux—he to whom +the De la Motte furniture was wont to be consigned to save it from being +taken in execution[411]—pays him a visit in company with some seven or +eight others, whom Burlandeux introduces as Manuel (afterwards procureur +of the commune), Sergent (one of the “killers” at the ensuing September +massacres), Panis (a friend of Danton’s), Robespierre, Marat, Hébert, +etc., all of them having come to compliment the count upon his courage +and to offer their aid, while vilifying poor Marie-Antoinette in most +offensive language. De la Motte then has his say, tells his visitors that +he is a _voluntary_ prisoner, and exclaims vehemently against the old +Paris parliament for having “sacrificed an innocent woman, deprived of +the means of defence, that they might save a debauched prelate.” At the +conclusion of the count’s harangue, his new friends, seemingly very well +satisfied with what he has said to them, take their leave. + +The hearing of the appeal for the revision of the Necklace process at +length comes on. De la Motte pretends that the public excitement is +intense, the hall being packed from floor to ceiling with Jacobins—ragged +men and slatternly women for the most part—in the midst of whom he +recognizes Burlandeux. According to the count, the judgment which the +third tribunal eventually pronounces, at the suggestion of the president, +would have had the effect of restoring to him all his property seized +by the crown, if at this moment the minister of justice had not given +orders for all the documents relating to the process to be remitted to +the _procureur du roi_, who afterwards brings the whole affair before the +first tribunal. The following letter, written by the count to the king, +puts the matter, however, in a somewhat different light:— + + “Sire,—When I voluntarily constituted myself a prisoner I + should, in accordance with the promise made to me by M. Duport + (du Tertre), and after the precautions which he had taken, + have obtained my liberty and the entire restitution of my + property within the week. For four months have I been detained + and persecuted by a cabal which, disregarding all prudential + considerations, seeks to give an annoying _éclat_ to this + affair. M. de Plane, president and judge of the third tribunal, + was appointed to examine me, which he did in the most indecent + manner, his questions having no other object than to try and + compromise the queen, and principally to find the means of + confronting her with me in open court, as a necessary witness + and deponent of facts set forth in this horrid process. + + “M. A. DE LA MOTTE. + + “From the Conciergerie of the Palace of Justice, May 5th, + 1792.”[412] + +At the time the foregoing letter was written, unless there is a mistake +in the month—May instead of April—judgment had actually been pronounced +by the third tribunal exactly one month previously, namely on the 5th +of April, a circumstance, one would imagine, of which the person most +concerned could hardly have been ignorant.[413] + +The count’s old friend Burlandeux pays him another visit at this +particular juncture. “Dog of an aristocrat!” exclaims the enraged barber, +thrusting his fist in the count’s face, “Capet and the Austrian she-wolf +will never help you to get out of this prison.” After thus abruptly +delivering himself, Burlandeux, to the count’s great relief, quietly +retires. + +While the De la Motte appeal was going forward, one day a stranger asks +to speak to the count. He proves to be a bookseller named Gueffier, who +has received, he says, from his correspondent in London the whole of the +French edition of the last “Mémoires” of Madame de la Motte,[414] which +“Mémoires,” the count avails himself of this opportunity of stating +(believe him, who pleases), were written against his advice. The count +says that he communicated the above information to M. de Laporte, who +obtained the king’s authority for him to treat with Gueffier for the +purchase of the work. The fact, however, is that De la Motte wrote direct +to the king upon the subject, as may be seen by the extract which we are +enabled to give from his letter, which, curiously enough, bears the same +date as his other letter to the king—namely, May 5th, 1792: + +... “There has just been bought up by a bookseller of Paris, named +Gueffier, ‘the Life of Madame de la Motte, written by herself,’ and +printed in London. Before constituting myself a prisoner, I informed M. +Duport (du Tertre) of the existence of this work, which is really by +Madame de la Motte, and which she sold on certain conditions, in order +to maintain herself, to a printer in London, who ought, after having +received what he has advanced and his own charges, to deliver up the +complete editions of the work in French and English. Your majesty has, +without doubt, been informed of these facts by M. Duport, who some time +since endeavoured to buy up the work, and prevent its being made public. +It appears that these endeavours were without result, as the French +copies have arrived at Rouen, and are to be published in a few days at +the shop of this Gueffier. This is what the London printer, whom I saw +two days ago, assured me. + +“I have informed my counsel of these details, and they seem much alarmed +for the public tranquillity, and that of your majesty and the queen, +on account of the dangers of the publication of this work. They have +imperatively counselled me to have it seized before it arrives in Paris, +as the property of Madame de la Motte, and now belonging to me by the +right of succession. But as the booksellers who have purchased it, and +who advanced Madame de la Motte the money, claim what is due to them, +I shall either be forced to abandon the seizure or to pay them their +demand. I cannot myself make a sacrifice of twenty thousand francs. I +therefore beg your majesty to put yourself to the necessary expense in +order to frustrate the projects of these evil-disposed persons. My plan, +if it meets with your majesty’s approval, is to seize and seal up this +work at Rouen, and to offer the holders of it the amount due to them +from Madame de la Motte. The whole will then be sealed up and delivered +by my counsel to M. de Laporte, who will dispose of it according to your +majesty’s orders.”[415] + +Negotiations are opened with Gueffier, who offers to surrender the +whole of the copies on receiving a sum of twenty-five thousand francs. +The count suggests eighteen thousand, which Gueffier eventually agrees +to accept, whereupon M. de Laporte forwards the count twenty thousand +francs, with an intimation that he need not trouble himself to return the +balance.[416] + +An attempt, of which the king and M. de Laporte evidently knew nothing, +had, it seems, been previously made to sell the manuscript of this +edition of the countess’s life to Marie-Antoinette. But the queen, +guided by past experience, saw clearly enough that, whether she bought +the manuscript or not, the libel was equally certain to be published, +and indeed it must have been printed off at the time the manuscript +was offered to her. She therefore peremptorily refused to enter into +any negotiation. “At the commencement of 1792,” writes Madame Campan, +“an estimable priest asked of me a private interview. He had heard of +a new libel of Madame de la Motte’s, and told me he had remarked that +the people who came from London to get it printed in Paris[417] were +actuated only by the desire of gain, and that they were ready to deliver +up the manuscript for one thousand louis, if some friend of the queen +could be found disposed to make this sacrifice to ensure her tranquillity. + +“I communicated this proposition to the queen, who declined it, and +commanded me to reply that, at the time when it was possible to punish +the circulators of those libels she had considered them so atrocious and +so improbable that she had disdained to take any steps for arresting +their course, that if she now were imprudent enough to buy up one only, +the active espionage of the Jacobins would not fail to discover it, and +the libel so bought would not the less be printed, and would become much +more dangerous when the public learnt the means she had adopted to keep +it from their knowledge.”[418] + +M. de Laporte had the edition of the countess’s life, which had been +purchased from Gueffier, conveyed to his hôtel; but after a time, growing +alarmed at the daily increasing excesses of the population of Paris, and +fearful that at some moment when he least expected it, an irruption might +be made into his house, and these “Mémoires” carried off and distributed +among the people, he gave an order for them to be burnt with all +necessary precaution and secrecy. Unfortunately, the person who received +this order confided the execution of it to one Riston, a dangerous +intriguer, and former advocate of Nancy, escaped, a year previously, from +the gallows, by favour of the new tribunals, although he had been proved +guilty of fabricating impressions of the great seal, and forging decrees +of the council in proceedings undertaken at the request of the king’s +household. “I had,” says Bertrand de Moleville, minister of marine, “to +read over to the witnesses their depositions, and to confront them with +the accused, at the peril of being assassinated, not only by Riston, who, +at one of the sittings, threw himself upon me with a knife, but also by +the brigands in his pay, with whom the hall of audience was filled, and +who were enraged at finding their threatening outcries did not prevent me +from repressing the insults which the accused offered unceasingly to the +witnesses who came to depose against him. + +“This same Riston, who a year previously was in the toils of a capital +accusation, instituted against him in the name and by order of the king, +finding himself charged with a commission which interested his majesty, +and the importance of which was apparent from the mystery attaching to +it, troubled himself less about the best way of executing it than in +making a parade of this mark of confidence. On May 30th, 1792, (at ten +o’clock in the morning), he had the printed sheets conveyed in a cart, +which he himself accompanied, to the porcelain manufactory at Sèvres, and +caused a great fire to be made of them in the presence of all the workmen +belonging to the establishment, who were expressly forbidden to approach +near it. All this parade, and the suspicion to which it gave rise in +these critical times, caused the matter to be publicly talked of and +discussed; and the same evening it was brought before the Assembly, when +Brissot, and others of the Jacobin party argued with as much effrontery +as vehemence that these papers, burnt with so much secrecy, could have +been nothing else but the registers and correspondence of the Austrian +committee. M. de Laporte was called to the bar, and gave a most exact +account of the facts. Riston was also summoned, and confirmed the account +given by M. de Laporte. But these explanations, however satisfactory they +ought to have been, did not appease the violent feeling which this affair +had excited in the Assembly.”[419] + +Madame Campan tells an interesting anecdote in connection with this +unfortunate casualty. “One day,” observes she, “M. d’Aubin came and +said to me, ‘the National Assembly has been engaged with a denunciation +made by the workmen of the manufactory of Sèvres, who brought to the +president’s desk a pile of pamphlets, which they said was the life of +Marie-Antoinette. The director of the manufactory was called to the +bar, and declared that he had received orders to burn these printed +works in the kilns used for baking the porcelain.’ Whilst,” says Madame +Campan, “I was giving an account of this to the queen, the king coloured +and hung his head over his plate. The queen said to him, ‘Do you know +anything of this, sir?’ The king did not answer. Madame Elisabeth asked +him to explain what it all meant. Still the same silence. I promptly +retired. A few minutes afterwards the queen came to me, and told me it +was the king who, out of regard for her, had caused the whole of the +edition printed from the manuscript of which I had spoken to her, to be +purchased, and that M. de Laporte had not thought of any more secret way +of destroying the work than having it burnt at Sèvres, in the presence +of two hundred workmen, one hundred and eighty of whom were certain to +be Jacobins. She told me that she had concealed her grief from the king; +that he was dismayed, and that she could say nothing when she found +that his tenderness and goodwill towards her had been the cause of this +accident.”[420] + +Such was the end of the last of the De la Motte libels, which were +nevertheless reprinted in subsequent years, and even so recently as the +year 1846, more than half a century after their first dissemination, so +thorough is the vitality of calumny! + +Marie-Antoinette, in reply to questions put to her at her trial, with +reference to the papers burnt at Sèvres, said: “I believe it was a libel. +I was not, however, consulted on the matter. I was told of it afterwards. +Had I been consulted, I should have opposed the burning of any writing +which was against me.”[421] + + + + +XLI. + +MAY, 1789–AUG. 1791. + +RETRIBUTION.—THE CRIMINAL AND HER ACCOMPLICES. + + +We must now go back in our narrative to the point of time when Count de +la Motte left England to traffic in his wife’s “Mémoires” abroad, with +what success we have already seen. Judging from the countess’s dolorous +account of their dealings with them in England, it is evident that +trouble as well as profit resulted from these “Mémoires Justificatifs.” +Neither she nor her husband were satisfied with disposing of copies of +them through the ordinary channels, but sought to force a trade among +merchants, and even hatters. It seems that nine hundred copies of the +French, and two hundred and fifty copies of the English edition of +the “Mémoires,” together with two hundred and eighty-three copies of +the countess’s “Scourge for Calonne”—published at the several prices +of one guinea, half a guinea, and five shillings—were intrusted to a +French hatter in New Bond Street, named Coup, who advanced the count, at +various times, something like three hundred pounds upon them. “Without +any previous demand,” says Madame de la Motte, “Coup came one day (May +14, 1789), in the absence of my husband, at the head of half a dozen +bailiffs, and lodged an execution at my house in Chester Place, where he +for the first time told me he had sufficient authority, my husband never +having even mentioned the circumstance to me. + +“This was another disagreeable attack, and I saw my house and furniture +sold on the 21st of May, without being able to procure any account from +this man of the books he had sold, which would have been more than double +his demand, as at that particular juncture the sale of these books must +have been at once rapid and extensive. He even had the meanness to put +an execution upon four or five hundred ‘Mémoires’ which remained with +him, and which were sold for only six guineas, and were resold by the +purchasers at half a crown and three shillings each. + +“Of the five thousand ‘Mémoires’ which had been printed, Coup had +received only nine hundred. I proceed to mention what became of +the remaining ones. My credulous husband, profuse of confidence, +notwithstanding he had been formerly deceived by a man pretending to be a +capital merchant, trusted this man with a certain number of ‘Mémoires,’ +French as well as English, which he was to dispose of as merchandise to +his correspondents in different countries, from whom, in a short time, he +would receive remittances. + +“M. de la Motte, though formerly deceived, yet gave him his confidence, +and delivered to him nine hundred and nine French ‘Mémoires,’ valued at a +guinea each, three hundred and eighty-six English ditto, valued at half +that sum, and a number of the ‘Scourge for Calonne,’ for all of which +we never received one farthing. This man’s wife, upon whom I took pity, +remained in my house during the time of the execution, under the specious +pretext of rendering me service. Alas! what service did she render me? +Small miniature paintings of great value, and other valuable articles to +the amount of forty or fifty guineas, she put into her pocket, and when +I reclaimed these effects, she made me a most audacious and impertinent +reply, to the effect that when M. de la Motte should pay them, they +would then give an account. Against their injustice I have no remedy. +They have no property, and I am heartily sick of having any business +with attorneys, who have already had too much to do with my unfortunate +husband. + +“Mr. Ridgway, who was the publisher of all these ‘Mémoires,’ had, upon +supposition, about four hundred. These he sold for about one hundred +and eighty pounds, out of which there was eighty pounds for expenses. I +have scarce received one hundred pounds, and I have remaining, out of +eight thousand copies, eight hundred French, and three hundred English +‘Mémoires,’ for which I have received no money. + +“Very soon after this execution was levied against me, my servant, +Angelica (the same who was with the countess in the Salpêtrière, we +suppose) got into bad company, and was advised to sue for her wages, to +the amount of twenty guineas. She applied to an attorney, who threatened +me with arrest. Alas! I that am nobly descended, that have been the +favourite of a queen, that have basked in the sunshine of affluence and +felt the smiles of distinction, am now nothing; and were it not for the +benevolence of some respectable characters, I might probably be reduced +to the dire necessity of returning to my former mean situation, and of +imploring charity of every passing stranger.” + +And this is what ten years of struggling, scheming, intriguing, +and petitioning; of lying, swindling, forgery, theft, slander, and +depravity—and all to be lady of the manor of Fontette—have brought this +wretched woman to at last! “Misery, like a vulture, gnawing her heart,” +she says, “and poverty chasing at her very heels;” her household goods +sold for debt incurred with respect to her malicious libels; herself +threatened with arrest by the very servant whose release she procured +from the Salpêtrière, while her husband is flirting in Holland with some +flaxen-haired young _frau_. Either to console herself in the midst of +these accumulated troubles, or else—and which is by far the most likely +reason—with the view of pecuniary gain, she now writes her “Life,” in +two volumes, octavo, taking care to reiterate therein all her previous +malignant slanders against the French queen. + +“Nothing,” says she, almost prophetically, “could have induced me to +undertake a task like this—to retrace a life which has already been +too long, and which, if my ideas of it are as just as I could wish, is +drawing fast to a close; nothing,” she continues, in her most high-flown +style, “could have roused me from this lethargy of grief but the desire +of rescuing my memory, when this fluttering pulse shall cease to beat, +and the hand that now guides my pen be mouldered into dust, from the +detractions of malice. Abused, insulted, and disgraced, the wounds of +bleeding honour are too deep to be closed. Do they call for vengeance? +No; there is a just and righteous Judge, before whose tribunal I shall +again meet my enemies, where neither the strong arm of oppression nor +the ‘gilded’ hand of offence will be sufficiently powerful to vanquish +innocence.”[422] + +Such were the motives which inspired the countess to write her “Life.” +Curiously enough, the Duke d’Orléans chances to be in England at this +precise period—he arrived in London during October, 1789, and did not +return to France until the following July—and it is believed that he +encourages madame, by liberal bribes, to prosecute her task, even if he +does not have a hand himself in its production.[423] The count, too, is +by this time in Paris, and in communication with the government, and +there are the best of reasons for believing that the countess’s main +object in writing this work was to extort more money from a well-nigh +bankrupt royal exchequer. Be this as it may, the work is completed +towards the close of the year 1790, when the Count de la Motte is +receiving bribes both from the French ministry and the Orléans party; +but “its publication is delayed,” we are informed, “from overtures being +made for its suppression by a person pretending to be charged with a +commission for that purpose from the then highest powers in France. Some +months were wasted in fruitless negotiation, till the unexpected flight +and consequent embarrassments of the royal fugitives destroyed that +flattering prospect and pleasing hope of the countess’s being relieved +from the difficulties in which the most vindictive persecutions had +involved her. The speedy flight of the negotiator, who had impressed her +with an idea that she would soon be placed beyond the reach of fortune by +the immediate settlement of an annuity upon herself, and the liquidation +of her husband’s debts, on condition of giving up the manuscript and +printed copies of her ‘Life,’ left her to struggle with these new-created +difficulties which his flattering assurances had tended so greatly to +increase.”[424] + +The struggle was but a brief one, for a very few days afterwards a +catastrophe occurred which speedily placed this wretched woman beyond +the reach of worldly trouble. According to the count, certain agents of +the Duke d’Orléans, finding themselves frustrated in their efforts to +induce Madame de la Motte to quit England, conceived the idea of having +her arrested, in the belief that, when they had her in their power, they +could by promises, and the prospect of a brilliant revenge, prevail upon +her to allow herself to be conducted to Paris. “Among these infamous +agents,” says the count, “there was one who went before a justice of +the peace and swore on the Scriptures that Madame de la Motte owed him +a hundred guineas, when he was immediately furnished with the necessary +order for her arrest. Armed with this document, the officers presented +themselves at her house, and requested her to accompany them—she being +ignorant all the while of even the name of the villain who had sworn to +the debt. Even had the debt been real, no one had the right to arrest +a married woman, and Madame de la Motte was sufficiently acquainted +with the laws of the country to be aware of this circumstance. Still, +it was necessary that she should furnish proofs of her marriage, which +she could not do, as, when she quitted Paris, all her papers remained +at the Bastille. These scoundrels, therefore, insisted upon carrying +her off; whereupon she declared to them that, if they used violence, +she would put herself under the protection of the passers-by, who would +come to her rescue. She told them, however, that she was going to send +for her lawyer, who would, if requisite, find the necessary bail, and +she despatched her servant for that purpose, cautioning her beforehand, +that if the lawyer was not at home, she was, on her return, to make her +a certain sign, and to say that he was coming, so that she might settle +within her own mind what course to pursue in this emergency. Angelica +had no sooner left, than the countess, with the view of keeping her +vile persecutors in a good humour, served them with some luncheon and a +bottle of port wine. While they were seated at table she walked about the +room, conversing with them, and looking out of the window to watch for +the return of Angelica, who, seeing her mistress at the window, and not +having found the lawyer at home, made her the sign agreed upon. + +“Madame de la Motte, seizing a favourable moment, abruptly opened the +door and double-locked the scoundrels inside the room. The window being +open, one of them looked out to see whether she left the house. Her +extreme anxiety, and the state of confusion she was in owing to this +unjust aggression, were, no doubt, the reason of her not remarking the +hackney-coaches stationed before the house, into one of which she might +have got, and been driven in a few minutes into another county, when, in +the event of her persecutors discovering her retreat, it would have been +necessary for them to have procured a new writ before they could have +again arrested her. But instead of adopting this very obvious course, +and not, perhaps, imagining the fellows would be on the watch to see +what became of her, she took refuge in a neighbouring house, the people +belonging to which were known to her. + +“In the meanwhile these infamous tyrants, by dint of kicking at the door +of the room, succeeded in getting themselves released. They immediately +made for the house which they had seen the countess enter, and demanded +of the owner that she should be surrendered up to them. The owner +replied that he knew no such lady, and refused to allow them to make a +search. They, however, insisted, declaring that if Madame de la Motte +were not there, they would take upon themselves all the consequences +of the trespass. Thereupon they proceeded to search the house. Not +finding the object of their search on the ground or first floors, they +ascended to the second story, the proprietor following them and renewing +his protestations. At last they arrived at a room, the door of which +being locked they demanded to have it opened. In vain they were told +that it was let to a lodger who always took his key with him when he +went out; not doubting but that Madame de la Motte was concealed here, +they threatened to burst the door open if the key were not immediately +forthcoming. + +“The countess, who was really in this room, had persuaded herself that +a plot had been got up to carry her back to France, and there imprison +her again. She was consequently in a most bewildered state. Opening the +window, which looked into a yard, she got out and suspended herself +by her hands to an iron bar which served as a guard, determined to +precipitate herself to the ground if these fellows should succeed in +breaking in the door. Unfortunately it was of common deal, and a few +kicks sufficed to start the panels. The instant the countess caught +sight of the head of one of her pursuers she let go her hold and fell +with violence upon the pavement It was her misfortune not to have been +killed on the spot: her thigh was broken in two places, her left arm was +fractured, and one of her eyes was knocked out; in addition to which, her +body was a mass of bruises. In this state she lived for several weeks, +during which time I received from her a long letter giving me a detailed +account of this tragical event. + +“Thus died, at the age of thirty-four, a woman whose whole life was one +long career of misery, but which might have ended happily had not the +privilege of her birth, by over-exalting her imagination, developed +beyond measure those sentiments of pride and ambition which conducted her +to her fall.”[425] + +The editor of “The Life of Jeanne de St. Remy de Valois, heretofore +Countess de la Motte, written by herself,” furnished, in a supplement to +that work, a few additional particulars of the melancholy termination +of her career. He says, that “she received most of her injuries through +falling against the trunk of a tree, and that, while the feelings of +the surrounding spectators were agonized at the sight of the dreadful +spectacle which her bleeding and mangled form presented, the sheriff’s +officer, with a disgraceful apathy, was only intent to maintain the +legality of his caption, and refused to surrender the almost lifeless +body until he had good bail for its security.”[426] + +Spite of the prominent place which the countess and her doings had +recently occupied in the public mind of Europe, the English journals +of the day notified the fact of her decease in such brief terms as the +following: + +“August 26, 1791.—Died at her lodgings, near Astley’s Riding School, +Lambeth, the noted Countess de la Motte, of ‘Necklace’ memory, who lately +jumped out of a two pair of stairs window, to avoid the bailiffs.”[427] + +Of the last surviving representative of the royal house of Valois, +Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi, the Countess’s youngest sister, a few meagre +particulars have been preserved. In Madame de la Motte’s days of grandeur +she was engaged to be married to a certain Paul François de Barras, +nephew of the Count de Barras, and a particular friend of her brother’s, +the young Baron de Valois, and who was subsequently better known as +commandant of the Convention forces against the Robespierre faction on +the 9th Thermidor, as the friend and patron of young Bonaparte, and chief +of the Directory. “My disaster,” (her sentence in regard to the Necklace +affair) naïvely observes the countess, “prevented the nuptials.”[428] In +July, 1786, we find the Abbess of Jarcy, to which convent Mademoiselle +de Saint-Remi had again retired, writing to the Baron de Breteuil on her +behalf, and thanking him for the assistance which he had accorded to +“virtue in distress.” A couple of months afterwards, when this assistance +is required to be renewed, the baron is favoured with a second letter in +the following terms: + +“I consider my requests on behalf of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi,” writes +the abbess, “founded as much on justice as on charity. The innumerable +examples of the goodness of our monarchs in such cases authorizes my +prayers. And although the example of a foreign sovereign ought not +to influence the will of our august master, I do not see that it is +wrong of me to dwell upon what the Emperor, brother of the best of +queens, has just granted to the wife and children of Count de Székély, +condemned to the pillory, the galleys, and other punishments. His goods +were confiscated, and the sovereign gave them back to his wife and +children. He did more: he preserved to them, even to the last survivor, +the perquisites which the culprit enjoyed as first lieutenant of the +Hungarian _gardes nobles_. + +“Is the position of Mademoiselle de Valois less deserving of pity? Alas! +she deserves it much more. There remained some fortune to the Countess +Székély, whereas our unfortunate is alone in the world. Lastly, she is +of the blood of our kings—very respectable blood, M. le Baron, in the +estimation of both you and I. + +“Shall I tell you, M. le Baron—and why should I hide it any longer? +Poison has twice failed to conduct the unhappy one to the tomb she longs +for. Without the most prompt help—without the assistance of antidotes +administered for twelve hours in succession, the unfortunate wretch would +have expired in the most frightful torments: less frightful, however, +than those which she is menaced with suffering without the alms which I +claim for her, and which you cannot refuse—I do not hesitate to say it—to +her extreme misfortunes.”[429] + +Exactly one year subsequently, namely, in September, 1787, we find a +certain Abbé Phaph interesting himself very warmly in the young lady’s +affairs, and writing to the countess, who has only recently arrived in +England, urging her to sign some document which he has prepared, the +effect of which would be to give the sister a charge upon the De la Motte +property at Bar-sur-Aube. This the countess very decidedly declines to +do, and writes back requesting her sister to send her over “three gowns +which she fetched away from the mantua-maker’s”[430] just after her +arrest, and which she has ever since detained! + +The next we hear of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi is that she is living +openly with the aforesaid abbé as his mistress.[431] In April, 1787, we +find her engaged in a process against the domain for the restitution +of the family papers and deeds of succession, which she stated were +under the seals affixed to the effects of her sister; but orders having +come from Versailles for all proceedings in the matter to be suspended, +the suit had to be abandoned.[432] From this time we lose sight of +Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi until January, 1794, the height of the +Terror, when, caught up in the revolutionary vortex, she is sent to the +Port Libre prison as a _suspect_. Here she is at first mistaken for her +sister, until people call to mind that the countess has been dead some +years.[433] Six months afterwards she is transferred to the Carmes, and +in less than another month—namely, on the 22nd of August, three days +before the arrest and execution of Robespierre—she has the good fortune +to regain her liberty.[434] What subsequently became of her, and the +precise date at which she died, are involved in obscurity. Beugnot speaks +of her as having retired to some convent in Germany,[435] and a paragraph +in Count de la Motte’s “Mémoires” would lead us to suppose that her death +took place about the year 1817.[436] + +But little is known of the future careers of the countess’s two +Accomplices, the forger Villette, and the counterfeit queen D’Oliva. +Villette, on being banished from France, proceeded to gratify that +longing which he pretended he had to visit Italy where he seems to have +lived for some years, apparently not caring to profit by the opportunity +which the Revolution afforded him to return once more to the land of his +birth. He published at Venice, in the year 1790, as his contribution +to the lying literature of the Diamond Necklace affair, a small octavo +volume, of less than one hundred pages, under the title of “Mémoire +Historique des Intrigues de la Cour, et de se qui s’est passé entre la +Reine, le Comte d’Artois, le Cardinal de Rohan, Madame de Polignac, +Madame de la Motte, Cagliostro, etc.”[437] In this work he informs us +that he forged the queen’s signature under the eyes of the cardinal—a +prince who overawed him, and who had so many opportunities of benefiting +him—and of Madame de la Motte, a woman whom he adored; a pension of +six thousand livres a year being promised him for his compliance, one +thousand crowns of which he received, the following day, on account. +The words “_of France_,” were added, he says, by the cardinal’s express +directions. Villette pretends that Cagliostro, the cardinal, and Madame +de la Motte, were equally concerned in the plot; Cagliostro, whom at +the trial he emphatically declared to be innocent of all share in the +fraud, being the most guilty of all. The Necklace was obtained, he said, +with the sole view of selling it, so that the trio might replenish +their bankrupt exchequers, the cardinal having exhausted his resources +in supplying Cagliostro with funds to carry on his experiments for the +discovery of the philosopher’s stone, which experiments they hoped might +turn out successful by the time the Necklace had to be paid for. Villette +pronounces all the “Mémoires” put forth at the time of the trial to be +merely so many romances, fabricated for the sole purpose of concealing +the truth. Of the countess’s _liaisons_ he speaks in the most open +terms. “Abandoned,” he says, “by her husband, a depraved libertine and +gambler, she sought to captivate other men, and to render them slaves +to her charms.” What these charms were, Villette himself shall tell. +“Strong natural wit, a graceful figure, a white and transparent skin, +and eyes bright and piercing.” He says that he possessed the countess’s +entire confidence, and knew of all her intrigues, and particularly her +_liaisons_ with the cardinal; he then proceeds to say that she was +seduced in the first instance by the Marquis de Boulainvilliers, and that +she afterwards admitted the Bishop of Langres to her embraces, that the +Marquis d’Autichamp was her next lover, that she had a _liaison_ with the +Count d’Artois even, and reckoned the Count de Dolomieu and M. de Coigny +on the list of those she had ensnared. “I have described her,” concludes +Villette, “as she was—amiable, pretty, and over-complaisant; too good not +to have been a trifle weak, too passionate not to have been somewhat of a +libertine. This woman, whom I loved to adoration, and who had loaded me +with benefits, I dared to betray.” + +The termination of the career of Rétaux de Villette would appear to have +been even a more sorry one than that of the woman he so adored, if the +statement is true that he died by the hands of the hangman, swung off on +the leads of the Castle of Saint Angelo, at Rome.[438] + +The Demoiselle d’Oliva married her old lover Beausire, the same who +accompanied her to Brussels at the time of her flight. He was an offshoot +of nobility, and, as we have already stated, was formerly attached to +the household of the Count d’Artois. D’Oliva’s married life was but +brief, and anything but happy, for she died, it is reported, in 1789, +in the greatest misery.[439] Next year her husband became commandant +of the National guard of the Temple section, but finding his influence +rapidly declining, he retired to Choisy, near Paris, and managed to get +appointed procureur of the commune; finally he pursued the despicable +calling of _mouton_, or informer, and drew up the lists of proscription +in the Luxembourg prison, when it was choke-full of persons _suspects_. +Against the majority of these there was not a shadow of evidence, but as +evidence must be forthcoming in some form or other, the poor wretches +were accused of having plotted in prison. It was remarked that Beausire’s +old acquaintances who had had the ill-luck to win money of him at play +were certain to be on his list of victims, and it was said that he +spoke privately to the public accuser to have them guillotined.[440] +“This Plot in the Prison,” remarks Carlyle, “is now the stereotype +formula of Tinville; against whomsoever he knows no crime, this is a +ready-made crime. His judgment-bar has become unspeakable, a recognized +mockery, known only as the wicket one passes through towards death. His +indictments are drawn out in blank; you insert the names after. He has +his _moutons_, detestable traitor jackals, who report and bear witness, +that they themselves may be allowed to live—for a time.”[441] + +Beausire was at the head of these _moutons_, was, in fact, the chief spy +of the detestable Boyenval, who gloated over the number of victims he was +instrumental in bringing to the guillotine. He said of Beausire, that he +made use of him, but that Fouquier Tinville did not like him, and that +he could have him guillotined whenever he pleased.[442] And it pleased +Boyenval at last to put this covert threat of his into execution, and +“D’Oliva’s husband was hurled in.”[443] + + + + +XLII. + +1786–1793. + +DUPE AND VICTIM. + + +What became of the Dupe—Cardinal Prince Bishop Louis-René-Édouard de +Rohan? Finding the bleak air of the Auvergne mountains sorely trying +to his constitution, broken as it was by excesses and long confinement +in the Bastille, the cardinal asked and obtained permission of the +king to choose another place of residence. Either he or the Baron de +Breteuil fixed upon the Abbey of St. Bénoît, on the Loire, near Orléans, +but the lady superior of this establishment, alarmed at the prospect +of the cardinal and his large retinue of servants coming there and +eating them out of house and home, besides being very backward in his +payments, protested that she was unable to afford the cardinal the +necessary accommodation.[444] Eventually he was taken in at the Abbey +of Marmontier, near Tours, where, we are told, he was ever lamenting +the mad hopes in which he had permitted himself to indulge with regard +to the queen, and the blind confidence he had reposed in Madame de la +Motte.[445] Growing tired after a time of his new home, the cardinal +made various efforts to obtain permission to return to his diocese, and +even sent medical certificates to his old enemy, the Baron de Breteuil, +setting forth that the air of his native Alsace was absolutely necessary +to the restoration of his health. The king at last gave an unwilling +consent, and for a time the cardinal lived in something like his old +accustomed luxurious state at pleasant Saverne. On the approach of the +Revolution he was nominated, by the influence of the popular party—who +thought that his desire to be revenged upon the court would secure him +to their side—a deputy of the clergy of Alsace. Being still under +sentence of exile he did not dare accept the nomination, and a certain +Abbé Louis was elected in his place. The abbé dying, the cardinal was +again chosen, and the National Assembly having cancelled his sentence of +exile, after some delay he came to Paris and took his seat, amidst loud +shouts of applause—much, however, against the wish of his illustrious +relatives, who, one and all, hated the Revolution as a certain individual +is said to hate holy water. For a time the cardinal, with the view of +self-preservation, went with the revolutionary current, and even took +the civic oath; but when his co-reformers began to meddle with the +property of the clergy, decreeing the sale of their lands and superfluous +edifices, he cut himself adrift from them, and retired once more to his +loved Saverne, to dream, however, no more mad dreams of love and ambition +while pacing up and down his once-favourite “Promenade de la Rose.” + +Any mere wordy formula the cardinal was willing enough to swallow, but he +could not tolerate sacrilegious hands being laid upon church property, +and particularly church property that he was interested in. “Messieurs +of the clergy,” said a wag of the time, “it is your turn to be shaved; +if you wriggle too much you will be certain to get cut;” and cut the +cardinal, and with him the unfortunate crown jewellers, certainly did +get, for the latter’s security on the rich revenues of the Abbey of St. +Waast, of which the nation had taken possession, was now only so much +waste paper, and bankruptcy was the result. Shortly after the grand +national oath-taking ceremony in the Champ de Mars, the cardinal was +summoned by the Assembly to resume his functions as deputy within fifteen +days, but instead of doing so, he wrote a letter, stating that as it was +impossible for him to give his adhesion to the new civil constitution of +the clergy, he placed his seat at the Assembly’s disposal. The cardinal +was now looked upon as one “_suspect_,” and had ere long to retire to +Ettenheim, a dependency of his Strasbourg bishopric, lying beyond the +French frontier on the opposite bank of the Rhine. Here, in his capacity +of prince of the German empire, he caused levies of troops to be made to +swell the army under the command of his relative, the Prince de Condé, +whom he aided in every possible way. These proceedings of his greatly +exasperated the revolutionary party; he was constantly being denounced +in the National Assembly, and on one occasion Victor de Broglie brought +forward a proposition to indict him before the national high court; but +the Assembly, knowing the cardinal to be beyond its reach, sensibly +enough refused to entertain the proposal, although it was renewed again +and again. It contented itself, on first hearing of the cardinal’s +flight, with instructing the municipality of Strasbourg to seize and make +an inventory of his effects, of which they were to retain custody until +further orders.[446] “Deprived of his vast revenues,” says the cardinal’s +biographer, “he lived a modest and frugal life, intent only on securing +the happiness of his diocese, now reduced to a small patch of territory +on the right bank of the Rhine.”[447] This life of virtuous restraint +which the old spendthrift and debauchee, stripped of his fat benefices, +was compelled to lead in his declining years, was perhaps as severe a +punishment as could have been meted out to him. He died on the 16th of +February, 1803, having attained an age only a little more than a year +short of the allotted three score years and ten. + +The cardinal and his “familiar” do not appear to have met again on this +side of the grave. Cagliostro, as we have seen, had to make a rapid +retreat to England, and here he remained for about a couple of years. +Then he went to Switzerland, to Savoy, and finally to several of the +chief cities of Italy. On December 27th, 1789, when the proceedings of +the revolutionary party in France were exciting the utmost alarm in the +minds of members of the sacred college, Cagliostro had the ill-luck to +get arrested, denounced, it is said, by his wife as chief of a society +of Illuminati. He was confined in the Castle of St. Angelo, and after +fifteen months detention, was found guilty of practising freemasonry, and +sentenced to death, which sentence was commuted to perpetual imprisonment +in the Castle of St. Leo, where he is believed to have died in 1795. His +wife was condemned to a life of religious seclusion in the Convent of +Ste. Apolline.[448] + +And what became of the Victim?—the Austrian she-wolf!—the Austrian +tigress!—the Iscariot of France! Messalina, Brunehaut, Frédégonde, and +Médicis! as she was indifferently called by her relentless persecutors? A +more powerful pen than our own shall record her cruel fate:— + +“On Monday, the 14th of October, 1793, a cause is pending in the Palais +de Justice, in the new Revolutionary Court, such as these old stone walls +never witnessed—the trial of Marie-Antoinette. The once brightest of +queens, now tarnished, defaced, forsaken, stands here before Fouquier +Tinville’s judgment-bar, answering for her life. The indictment was +delivered her last night.[449] To such changes of human fortune what +words are adequate? Silence alone is adequate. + +“There are few printed things one meets with of such tragic, almost +ghastly, significance as those bald pages of the _Bulletin du Tribunal +Révolutionnaire_, which bear title ‘Trial of the Widow Capet.’... The +very witnesses summoned are like ghosts: exculpatory, inculpatory, they +themselves are all hovering over death and doom; they are known, in our +imaginations, as the prey of the guillotine. Tall, _ci-devant_ Count +d’Estaing, anxious to show himself patriot, cannot escape; nor Bailly, +who, when asked if he knows the accused, answers, with a reverent +inclination towards her, ‘Ah, yes! I know madame.’ Ex-patriots are here +sharply dealt with, as Procureur Manuel; ex-ministers shorn of their +splendour. We have cold aristocratic impassivity, faithful to itself even +in Tartarus; rabid stupidity of patriot corporals—patriot washerwomen—who +have much to say of plots, treasons, August tenth, old insurrection of +women,—for all now has become a crime in her who has _lost_. + +“Marie-Antoinette, in this her utter abandonment and hour of extreme +need, is not wanting to herself, the imperial woman. Her look, they +say, as that hideous indictment was reading, continued calm; ‘she was +sometimes observed moving her fingers as when one plays on the piano.’ +You discern, not without interest, across that dim revolutionary bulletin +itself, how she bears herself queen-like. Her answers are prompt, clear, +often of laconic brevity; resolution, which has grown contemptuous +without ceasing to be dignified, veils itself in calm words. ‘You +persist, then, in denial?’ ‘My plan is not denial: it is the truth I have +said, and I persist in that.’ Scandalous Hébert has borne his testimony +as to many things—as to one thing concerning Marie-Antoinette and her +little son, wherewith human speech had better not further be soiled. She +has answered Hébert; a juryman begs to observe that she has not answered +as to _this_. ‘I have not answered,’ she exclaims with noble emotion, +‘because nature refuses to answer such a charge brought against a mother. +I appeal to all the mothers that are here.’ Robespierre, when he heard +of it, broke out into something almost like swearing at the brutish +blockheadism of this Hébert,[450] on whose foul head his foul lie has +recoiled. At four o’clock on Wednesday morning, after two days and two +nights of interrogating, jury-charging, and other darkening of counsel, +the result comes out: sentence of Death! ‘Have you anything to say?’ The +Accused shook her head, without speech. Night’s candles are burning out; +and with her, too, time is finishing, and it will be Eternity and Day. +This Hall of Tinville’s is dark, ill-lighted, except where she stands. +Silently she withdraws from it, to die. + +“Two processions, or royal progresses, three-and-twenty years apart, have +often struck us with a strange feeling of contrast. The first is of a +beautiful arch-duchess and dauphiness, quitting her mother’s city, at the +age of fifteen, towards hopes such as no other Daughter of Eve then had. +‘On the morrow,’ says Weber, an eye-witness, ‘the Dauphiness left Vienna. +The whole city crowded out, at first with a sorrow which was silent. She +appeared: you saw her sunk back into her carriage, her face bathed in +tears; hiding her eyes now with her handkerchief, now with her hands; +several times putting out her head to see yet again this Palace of her +Father’s, whither she was to return no more. She motioned her regret, her +gratitude to the good Nation which was crowding here to bid her farewell. +Then arose not only tears, but piercing cries, on all sides. Men and +women alike abandoned themselves to such expression of their sorrow. +It was an audible sound of wail in the streets and avenues of Vienna. +The last courier that followed her disappeared, and the crowd melted +away.’[451] + +“The young imperial maiden of fifteen has now become a worn, discrowned +widow of thirty-eight, gray before her time. This is the last +procession: ‘Few minutes after the trial ended, the drums were beating +to arms in all sections. At sunrise the armed force was on foot, cannons +getting placed at the extremities of the bridges, in the squares, +crossways, all along from the Palais de Justice to the Place de la +Révolution. By ten o’clock numerous patrols were circulating in the +streets; thirty thousand foot and horse drawn up under arms. At eleven +Marie-Antoinette was brought out. She had on an undress of _piqué blanc_. +She was led to the place of execution in the same manner as an ordinary +criminal, bound on a cart, accompanied by a constitutional priest in +lay dress, escorted by numerous detachments of infantry and cavalry. +These and the double row of troops all along her road she appeared to +regard with indifference. On her countenance there was visible neither +abashment nor pride. To the cries of _Vive la République_ and _Down with +Tyranny_, which attended her all the way, she seemed to pay no heed. She +spoke little to her confessor. The tricolour streamers on the house-tops +occupied her attention in the streets du Roule and Saint-Honoré; she +also noticed the inscriptions on the house fronts. On reaching the +Place de la Révolution, her looks turned towards the _Jardin National_, +whilom Tuileries; her face at that moment gave signs of lively emotion. +She mounted the scaffold with courage enough. At a quarter past twelve +her head fell; the executioner showed it to the people amid universal, +long-continued cries of _Vive la République_.’”[452] + +And this was the fate reserved for her of whom Burke had said that he +thought “ten thousand swords would have leapt from their scabbards to +avenge even a look that threatened her with insult;”—who, on her first +entry into Paris, was welcomed by a wild sea of human beings, that +surged along her line of route and filled the vast space of the Place du +Carrousel;—the fair young dauphiness, to whom, as she looked forth from +the gallery of the Tuileries upon the swaying mass beneath, the old Duke +de Brissac gallantly said, “Madame, you have under your eyes two hundred +thousand lovers;”—the young queen who, when called upon to share her +husband’s throne, with mixed feelings of gratitude and pride wrote thus +respecting her adopted country to her mother: + +“Though God caused me to be born in the rank I now occupy, I cannot but +admire the order of His providence which has selected me, the last of +your children, for the finest realm in Europe. I feel more than ever how +much I owe to the tenderness of my august mother, who took so much pains +and care to procure for me this great establishment.”[453] + +“Beautiful Highborn that wert so foully hurled low!... Oh! is there a +man’s heart that thinks, without pity, of those long months and years of +slow wasting ignominy: of thy Birth, soft-cradled in Imperial Schönbrunn, +the winds of heaven not to visit thy face too roughly, thy foot to light +on softness, thy eye on splendour; and then of thy Death, or hundred +Deaths, to which the Guillotine and Fouquier Tinville’s judgment-bar was +but the merciful end? Look _there_, O man born of woman! The bloom of +that fair face is wasted; the hair is grey with care; the brightness of +those eyes is quenched, their lids hang drooping; the face is stony pale, +as of one living in death. Mean weeds, which her own hand has mended, +attire the Queen of the World. The death-hurdle, where thou sittest pale, +motionless, which only curses environ, has to stop; a people, drunk with +vengeance, will drink it again in full draught, looking at thee there! +Far as the eye reaches, a multitudinous sea of maniac heads; the air +deaf with their triumph-yell! The Living-dead must shudder with yet one +other pang; her startled blood yet again suffuses with the hue of agony +that pale face, which she hides with her hands. There is no heart to say, +God pity thee! O think not of these; think of HIM whom thou worshippest, +the Crucified,—who, also treading the wine-press _alone_, fronted sorrow +still deeper; and triumphed over it, and made it holy; and built of it a +‘Sanctuary of Sorrow,’ for thee and all the wretched! Thy path of thorns +is nigh ended. One long last look at the Tuileries, where thy step was +once so light—where thy children shall not dwell. The head is on the +block: the axe rushes—dumb lies the World. That wild-yelling World, and +all its madness, is behind thee! + +“Beautiful Highborn that wert so foully hurled low!... _Thy_ fault in +the French Revolution, was that thou wert the Symbol of the Sin and +Misery of a thousand years; that with Saint Bartholomews, and Jacqueries, +with Gabelles, and Dragonades, and Parcs-aux-cerfs, the heart of mankind +was filled full, and foamed over in all-involving madness. To no +Napoleon, to no Cromwell wert thou wedded; such sit not in the highest +rank, of themselves; are raised on high by the shaking and confounding of +all the ranks! As poor peasants, how happy, worthy had ye two been! But +by evil destiny ye were made a King and a Queen of; and so both once more +are become an astonishment and a by-word to all times.”[454] + + + + +XLIII. + +1792–1831. + +“NESTOR DE LA MOTTE.”—ILL GOTTEN GAIN NEVER PROSPERS.—GREEN OLD AGE. + + +Count de la Motte survived all the actors in the Necklace drama, and +lived to see France once more in the throes of a Revolution and the +Bourbons again dethroned—lived in fact, to the commencement of our own +era, and heard of, if he did not see, steam-vessels daily crossing the +Channel, and railways carrying passengers upwards of twenty miles an hour. + +We left the count pursuing his second appeal with reference to the +Necklace case. He had not long to wait for a decision, for we find that +on July 27, 1792, the first tribunal gave judgment “on the appeal lodged +by Marc-Nicolas la Motte from the judgment given against him on the 5th +of April last by the third tribunal established at the Palais de Justice” +in the following terms:— + +“Whereas the complaint remitted by the procureur-général to the former +Parliament of Paris on September 7, 1785, is only signed at the end +and not on each sheet, which is contrary to law, the present appeal is +annulled, together with the judgment given by the former Parliament of +Paris on December 5, 1785. + +“Nevertheless, having regard to the gravity of the offence, it is ordered +that the said La Motte shall remain in custody, and that the documents +in the suit shall be hereunto annexed to serve as a record of the +proceedings, and that the same shall be brought before the director of +the jury to decide upon as he may be advised.”[455] + +The count pretends that in the first instance the judgment said nothing +whatever about his remaining in custody, and that it was only on the +Jacobin public accuser (?) rising and stating that as no notice had been +taken during the proceedings of the letters patent issued by the king, he +opposed the count’s being set at liberty, that the unpleasant addendum +was made. According to the count, the king at once offered to withdraw +the letters patent, but was overruled by the minister. In a few days it +was too late; Louis XVI. was dethroned and a prisoner at the Temple, his +own keeper of the seals, Duport du Tertre, sealing with the great seal +the order for his arrest. + +About this time poor M. de Laporte is also arrested and sent to join the +count in the Conciergerie, and in a week or two, after a swift trial +before the newly constituted tribunal of August 17th, the harmless old +man is sent to the guillotine. Swiftly as the new tribunal does its work +with the _suspects_, and swiftly as the newly invented guillotine seconds +it, still it is not sharp enough for revolutionary patriotism, with +Verdun fallen and the Duke of Brunswick in full march upon the capital. +By Marat and Billaud, and Sergent and Panis and some few others, the +hideous September massacres are planned, and De la Motte is horrified +at learning that his name, with the fatal red cross against it, stands +second on the list of proscribed prisoners in the Conciergerie. The count +pretends that he and a party of fellow-prisoners secretly arm themselves +and decide upon making a desperate resistance, though where they got +their weapons from is by no means clear. According to his version, he is +provided with a dagger and a couple of pistols, and takes up his post at +the grating at the end of the corridor, where he remains on the watch, +and from whence, not only did he see the prisoners tried, but slaughtered +as well. Throughout the night nothing is heard but the unlocking of +doors and drawing of bolts, followed by shouts, shrieks, and groans; +and an hour or so before daybreak comes the sound of heavy footsteps, +of loud voices demanding the keys, and sharp blows against the door at +the entrance to the corridor leading to their cells. All at once the +count hears his own name shouted out, and thinks the time has now come +to battle for his life. A few more blows and the door gives way, and a +band of strangers rushes in—friends, however, and not enemies, who caress +the count, clasp him to their breasts, and carry him off triumphantly in +their arms. The outside of the prison gained, they entertain him at a +neighbouring café, and then summoning a vehicle, three of his liberators +accompany him to the Rue de Choiseul, where they insist upon his going +and at once making his demand upon the “domain” for the entire value of +his effects seized at Bar-sur-Aube in virtue of the sentence passed upon +him by the Parliament of Paris. + +The count of course does as he is bid, and what is most surprising, +according to his own statement, without previous notice or proving +his identity, or even the shadow of a legal claim, he succeeds in +obtaining from the “domain” a sum of thirty thousand francs on account, +twenty-seven thousand francs of which he stows away in his pocket-book, +and the remaining three thousand, which are in assignats, he hands to his +deliverers to dispose of as they may think proper.[456] + +It was lucky for the count that he had been transferred to the +Conciergerie, for at the time the foregoing scenes were being enacted in +this prison, this is what was transpiring at La Force, where the count +was originally confined. “At one o’clock in the morning of September +3rd,” writes Maton de la Varenne,[457] “the gate leading to our quarter +was again opened. Four men in uniform, each with a drawn sabre and +blazing torch, mounted our corridor, preceded by a turnkey, and entered a +room close to ours to search a box which we heard them break open. This +done, they halted in the gallery and began questioning one Cuissa to +know where La Motte was. La Motte, they said, under a pretext of finding +a treasure which they were to share in, had swindled one of them out of +three hundred livres, having asked him to dinner for that purpose. The +wretched Cuissa, whom they had in their power, and who lost his life that +night, answered trembling that he remembered the circumstance well, but +did not know what had become of La Motte. Determined to find La Motte, +and confront him with Cuissa, they ascended to other rooms and made +further search there, but evidently without success, for I heard them +say, ‘Let’s look among the corpses then, for in God’s name he must be +found!’” + +The count had not long regained his liberty before he was discovered +by his niece, daughter of Madame de la Tour, she who as a child had +taken part in the famous incantation scene enacted by Cagliostro at the +Palais-Cardinal, and of which the countess made so much at the Necklace +trial. The game of appealing and petitioning against the judgment +rendered in the Necklace trial being now up, and it being the duty of all +patriots to hurl back foreign invasion, Count de la Motte returns to his +old profession of arms, raises a company of cavalry, composed chiefly of +former friends in the gendarmerie, gets appointed captain, has his troop +reviewed by the colonel on the Boulevards, and next day finds himself +denounced by patriot Burlandeux, who charges him with being both royalist +and aristocrat, and swears that the company he has joined is composed +entirely of men of his own stamp, with not a single _sans-culotte_ +among them. The count not desiring to return to his old quarters in the +Conciergerie—for again there with Danton as minister of justice, the +chances are that he would only leave them for the guillotine—is glad +enough to return his sword to its scabbard, and accept a passport for his +native town of Bar-sur-Aube. + +On his arrival there he finds the great pavilion attached to his house +occupied by the provincial directory, which necessitates his furnishing +a few rooms in the house itself for his own accommodation. Having done +this, he proceeds to Tonnerre to fetch his sister and niece, who have +taken up their residence there. At Tonnerre the count stays for several +weeks, smitten with the charms, or possibly the expectations, of a young +lady, only daughter of a rich proprietor. “I was thirty-six,” remarks +he—he was upwards of thirty-eight—“but I did not look so old; she was +eighteen.” The count finding himself favoured in his suit, asks the hand +of mademoiselle in marriage, and is accepted. + +Time passes pleasantly enough for the next month or two; the count is +installed in the old house at Bar-sur-Aube, and has his sister and niece +residing with him. The shooting season is on, and only give the count +his dog and his gun and he will not lack for amusement. Of course he +makes frequent journeys to Tonnerre, although something like fifty miles +of cross roads intervene between the two places; but what are these to +a man in love, who has been accustomed to the saddle too all his life? +How he manages to live at this time he does not condescend to tell us. +There are no more sealed money packages from poor old Laporte. Was it on +the balance of the assignats which he received from the domain?—if he +ever did receive what he states—or was it upon his sister, Madame de la +Tour? We think the latter the most probable. M. de la Tour had emigrated, +and the count’s anxiety that his sister should live with him arose, we +expect, from his desire to live on her. + +It is at this time, November, 1792, that the king is brought to trial; +the count is nervously anxious for news of the result of the proceedings, +simply because, as he admits, he still entertained some faint hopes of +being able to obtain a further supply of cash from the dethroned monarch. +Louis XVI. dead, the count is reduced to his shadowy claim on the domain. + +During the next eighteen months, De la Motte leads the life of a +country gentleman at Bar-sur-Aube. He hunts, and shoots, and fishes, +and cultivates his little plot of land, and rides constantly over to +Tonnerre. The queen is now brought to trial, and he is appealed to, he +says, to come to Paris and depose against her, but declines to do so. “In +my opinion,” observes this contemptible hypocrite, professing to believe +in his wife’s pretended intimacy with Marie-Antoinette, “the queen was +not so blamable (in the Necklace affair) as Madame de la Motte believed. +In her position it was difficult to interfere between the law and its +victim. I was persuaded this sacrifice had cost the queen much, and I had +had proofs of the goodness of her heart.”[458] In May, 1794, the count +proceeds to Paris to urge his claim against the domain, which claim of +his has now become as much his fixed idea as the revision of his sentence +in the Necklace trial was a year or two ago. He met, however, with no +success; and after two months spent in wearying appeals, returns home +again, balked in all his plans, and thoroughly disgusted to find that +Bar-sur-Aube has now its revolutionary committee, and its denouncers of +_suspects_, and is by no means a secure place to reside in. Tonnerre, +he thinks, will be more preferable, so to Tonnerre he hies, but only to +find that it also has its denouncers. The count hastens home again, and +finds his sister and niece already arrested as the wife and daughter +of an _émigré_; thinking his turn will not be long in coming, he keeps +his horse ready saddled in his stable, puts a pair of pistols in the +holsters, and prepares to ride away at the first signal of danger. + +With the view of keeping in with the revolutionary party, the count gives +a supper to the members of the committee, after which proof of patriotism +they grant him a certificate of citizenship in proper form. Protected by +this, he returns to Tonnerre, and proceeds to take the necessary steps +for his marriage. But the municipality will not permit the banns to be +published until the count produces a certificate of the countess’s death, +and this, owing to the war with England, he is unable to procure. Back +to Bar-sur-Aube the count rides again and obtains such certificate as +he can from the authorities there—his uncle, M. de Suremont, the same +that had to disgorge the jewels belonging to the count which he had +appropriated—being mayor at the time. Ere, however, the count can return +to Tonnerre he is arrested by order of a government commissioner, and +carried off by a couple of _militaires_ to Troyes, to the same prison +where his sister and niece are already confined. Here the time seems to +have passed pleasantly enough with music, singing, reading of plays and +flirtations between the male and female prisoners. Among the latter is +the “wife of an _émigré_, with a charming daughter of eighteen”—eighteen +seems to have been an irresistible age with the count. “Not having,” says +he, in the coolest manner, “any further relations with the people of +Tonnerre”—although he was about setting out to his wedding at the very +time he was arrested—“I decided upon marrying this young person.” + +Fortunately for the count, Robespierre’s fall takes place at this period, +and he and his fellow-prisoners regain their liberty. On returning to +Bar-sur-Aube he finds that all his arms and horses have been appropriated +by the officers who arrested him, and that they and his servants have +pretty well stripped his house between them. He at once institutes +proceedings in the local courts, obtains a judgment by default, and the +two _militaires_ are cast in damages for fifty thousand francs, which +damages the count of course hopes to get some day or other. At any rate, +thenceforward these fifty thousands francs become his fixed idea, and we +hear no more of his claim against the domain. + +The count, being sadly in need of ready cash, sells his house—that +house on which so large a portion of the proceeds from the sale of the +famous Necklace had been squandered, to the postmaster of Bar-sur-Aube. +The commodious stables serve admirably for the post-master’s stud of +horses, the elegantly decorated _salons_ and _chambres à coucher_ furnish +handsome reception and sleeping rooms for his guests. The great pavilion +is reserved for the count’s own use for the space of a year; and here +he, his wife—for he has married the charming young lady of eighteen—and +his mother-in-law, for a time reside. At the commencement of 1796 they +remove to what the count describes as a charming hermitage, surrounded +by woods and waterfalls and lovely views, and where they farm their +own land, and live a life of country ease. Several years—happy ones +after a fashion, one would suppose—thus glide by, until at length the +count’s mother-in-law, weary of the woods and the waterfalls and the +charming views, urges him to go to Paris. Horses, bullocks, cows, pigs, +poultry, and standing crops are forthwith sold, and to Paris the family +betake themselves. Bonaparte is now first consul; the count obtains an +audience of him, presents a petition, and is told by the great man that +he remembers seeing him years ago at Brienne. Nothing, however, comes of +the petition, and spite of all his efforts the count cannot find the two +officers against whom he has the judgment for fifty thousand francs. For +some years he seems to live in Paris agreeably enough—no doubt on the +resources of his mother-in-law—spending his time between the Palais Royal +and the Boulevards, and ever on the look-out for the two _militaires_ +who plundered his house at Bar-sur-Aube. At last, by a lucky chance, +he tracks out one of them, has him arrested, and after various legal +proceedings, is disgusted at seeing him set at liberty on the ground that +the government had granted a general amnesty for all acts done in service +of the state at this period of national trouble. + +Year after year rolls by, and the count witnesses the establishment of +the Empire, the fall of Napoleon, and his consignment to the Isle of +Elba, and the return of the Bourbons to France, to bring about which +latter event he took most energetic steps. Beugnot, whom the reader will +remember as the young barrister of Bar-sur-Aube, and who has managed +to keep his head upon his shoulders during the revolutionary whirl, +finds himself appointed minister of police, having already had the +title of count conferred upon him by Napoleon. De la Motte loses not +a moment in appealing to his former rival to serve an old friend and +fellow-townsman, and Beugnot, knowing perfectly well the count’s tastes, +and precisely what he is fitted for, gets the farmer of the gambling +tables in the Palais Royal—the leases of which Beugnot, in his capacity +of police minister, had to renew—to give him some congenial berth. The +count pretends that it was simply a pension of two hundred francs a month +which he received from Bernard, the lessee of the gambling saloons, and +that he accepted this with great repugnance. It is far more probable that +he had to do something for his paltry pittance—act, for example, as decoy +duck, and entice all the game he could to fowler Bernard’s net. Whichever +it may have been, post or pension simply, the count lost it before a year +was over, when Napoleon was again ruler of France. + +At the second return of the Bourbons after the battle of Waterloo, Count +Beugnot is named postmaster-general. De la Motte again seeks him out, and +obtains a letter from him to Bernard, who reinstates him in his former +position, and such as it was, the count manages to hold it for a couple +of years or so, when he gets his dismissal. Of course he flies off to +complain to Beugnot, but Beugnot can do nothing for him; he however +promises to see if he can serve the count in some other way. Eventually +he appoints the count’s sister, Madame de la Tour, postmistress at +Bar-sur-Aube, but to the count himself he gives no sort of place. + +“At this epoch” (1817), writes the count, in dolorous strain, “I had +just lost successively my sister-in-law (Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi), +my wife, and my mother-in-law. My son, aged fifteen, had determined +upon proceeding to Guadaloupe with the first battalion ordered to that +colony. I was therefore alone in the world, without consolation, without +help, without even the means of existence. Sent away from one hotel +after another through default of payment, humiliated at being obliged to +receive from my acquaintances the smallest pittance, that too frequently +proved insufficient for my most pressing wants, I felt my courage +forsake me, and all I thought of was putting an end to a life of so much +misery.”[459] + +Being without the means of procuring a pistol, the count informs +us that he resolved on throwing himself into the Seine. Instead, +however, of doing this from one of the quays, or from the banks of +the river in the immediate suburbs, he makes a long country journey to +Franconville-la-Garenne, several miles away from the Seine at its nearest +point. This gives him opportunity for reflection, and he abandons his +suicidal intentions and returns to Paris determined to present a petition +to the king. It is curious to find the count in his old age returning to +the old De la Motte de Valois practice of memorializing the crown. Times, +however, had changed, and there were too many petitioners with real +grievances pressing their claims upon the Bourbons for any of the De la +Motte de Valois kith or kin to stand a shadow of a chance. As luck would +have it, when the count reached Paris, after a tramp of at least twenty +miles, he encountered a friend who gave him a good breakfast, and made +him some fair promises which put him in spirits again. He now prepares +his petition, and sends it to Marshal Beurnonville with a letter for the +Duke de Chartres. In a few days the count receives a reply. The duke has +forwarded his petition to his majesty, who has remitted it, accompanied +by a recommendation of his own, to the minister of his household. The +count rubs his hands at this good news, and anxiously waits for further +intelligence. At last a friend undertakes to make inquiries for him at +the ministerial bureau, and learns _Sacré Dieu!_ that all petitions +accompanied by special recommendations from the king are stowed away in +pigeonholes on their receipt, and are never seen or heard of more. The +count hastens to the marshal in a frantic state of mind; the marshal +does what he can to pacify him, and, as a matter of course, exhorts him +to be patient. Patient! poor comfort this to a man reduced “to live upon +horse-beans and boiled potatoes without seasoning, and rarely tasting +even bread,”[460] and whose span of life is well-nigh drawn out to the +allotted three score years and ten. + +The count, in his depth of misery again resolves upon suicide, and again +sets forth on a long journey before executing his purpose. When night +sets in he is almost twenty miles from Paris. Selecting a favourable +spot, the old man proceeds to put his design into execution. First of +all he ties up his pocket-book, containing the letters of the duke and +the marshal, in his handkerchief, to which he attaches a heavy stone +or two, and then sinks it in the stream. He next flings in his hat and +cane, and prepares to follow them, but his courage forsakes him. Even +at well nigh three score and ten the love of life proves too strong. In +the dark waters before him the count sees, he says, only waves of blood, +and suddenly visions of the hideous night of September 2nd rise vividly +before his eyes. Rushing from the river’s brink he gains a meadow, where +he lays himself down and sleeps. On awaking he walks for upwards of a +couple of hours in the direction of Paris, and eventually finds himself +on the road to Choisy. Seeing a light in one of the houses of the village +he makes for it, and fortunately finds a man stirring, of whom he begs +a draught of water, telling him that he has been attacked and robbed by +thieves. The man, compassionating his miserable appearance, gives him a +glass of wine instead, and a stout stick to help him forward on the road, +and after a brief rest the count resumes his journey. He goes again to +his old friend, the same who gave him the breakfast on his return from +a similar expedition, tells him of his second adventure, and is again +relieved by him. + +After having allowed his process against the two _militaires_ to slumber +for some years, the count revives it again, and applies to a matrimonial +agent to take it up, but it being quite out of this man’s line of +business, he, on the tanner’s principle of there being nothing like +leather, suggests matrimony to the count as the best way of surmounting +his misfortunes—informing him that he has an old dowager on his books who +is mad to marry one of the _ancien régime_. The count is nothing loth; +so an interview is arranged, and an invitation to dinner follows; and +the count, got up for the occasion, presents himself at the old lady’s +house, of which he already looks forward to being master. He is shocked, +however, at the number of children and grandchildren he is introduced +to, and still more shocked at the want of manners of the little brats, +and especially at an episode which transpires at the dinner-table, and +which delicacy will not permit us to describe. The dinner, which was of +the noisiest, in due course comes to an end, and with it the count’s +brief courtship of the dowager who was mad to marry a man of the _ancien +régime_. + +For a year or two longer the old count drags on a miserable existence. +He succeeds in getting a lawyer to take up his case against the two +officers, and obtains from him an advance of five hundred francs. Five +hundred francs! why the old count must have been as delighted as he was +in the old days when he came over from England with drafts on Perregaux +for between two and three hundred times five hundred francs. This slice +of luck puts him once more in clover for a time, but only for a time, for +although the case prospers at the outset, it is finally decided against +him, and starvation again stares him in the face. At this moment a +dislocated limb forces the wretched old man to take refuge in the Hôpital +de la Charité, and here he remains for many weary months. “It was while I +was in this hospital,” says the count, “that M. Panisset came to see me, +and found me on my bed of suffering, and made me certain proposals on the +part of M. de Lavan, prefect of police.” [461] + +When the count was sufficiently recovered to come abroad, his first +visit was to M. de Lavan, at the prefecture. “In 1825,” says M. Feuillet +de Conches, “a man bowed down by age and misery presented himself at +M. de Lavan’s bureau, and was received by the chief of his cabinet, +a person of rare merit and distinguished character, M. Duplessis. It +was Count de la Motte, who came to ask bread. M. Duplessis conversed +with him respecting the Necklace affair, and suggested that he should +write his memoirs, including his reminiscences of this mysterious +incident. La Motte thereupon wrote what was suggested, and with every +appearance of good faith. His notes only confirmed the details which +were already known. The queen’s memory had no need of being cleared by a +poor broken-down wretch who, after having helped to cast dirt upon her +august fame by contributing to the atrocious calumnies of his wife, now +came forward to deny them under the stroke of misery, in presence of a +royalist government. Still it was no less precious to have an authentic +denial written by one of the principal actors in this too famous drama, +an old man, worn down by misfortune, but retaining all his intelligence, +understanding the character of the atonement, and accepting it, according +to the opinion of M. Duplessis, with resignation and good faith. Out of +respect to memories, become almost saint-like; out of respect, above +all, to the daughter of Louis XVI., (to whom the resuscitation of the +name of La Motte, upon which evil-disposed people would have been certain +to comment, would have been the cause of considerable grief,) M. de Lavan +thought it best to envelop in obscurity the few days this unfortunate +being had still to live.”[462] + +“The pretensions of M. de la Motte,” remarks M. Campardon, “were +exceedingly modest. All he asked was an annuity of from three hundred +to four hundred francs for life, and his admission into the Hospice de +Chaillot.” During the last years of his existence, the count, who was +commonly known by the nickname of “Valois-Collier,”[463] is said to have +taken his daily stroll beneath the famous “Galeries de Bois” of the +Palais Royal, which stood where the present handsome Galérie d’Orléans +now stands, and from being a favourite resort of the Russian officers +belonging to the army of occupation had come to be derisively styled +the Tartars’ Camp. To the very last, therefore, the Count affected the +neighbourhood of his old haunts, the gambling saloons of the Palais +Royal. Overwhelmed by infirmity and misery, he died in the month of +November, 1831, having almost attained his eightieth year.[464] + + + + +XLIV. + +1786–1866. + +THE CROWN JEWELLERS.—THE END OF THE NECKLACE CASE.—HISTORY AGAIN REPEATS +ITSELF. + + +To render our narrative complete, it is necessary we should inform the +reader how it fared with the crown jewellers—Böhmer and Bassenge, “Au +Grand Balcon,” Rue Vendôme—and what was the final upshot of the famous +Necklace case. In the first place the jewellers never received a single +_sou_ of the rich revenues of the abbey of Saint Waast—computed to +produce 300,000 livres a year, and really yielding 225,000 livres, which +had been assigned to them. Among their many creditors was M. Nicolas +Deville, the king’s secretary, to whom they owed 900,602 livres, and +to whom they re-assigned the aforesaid revenues for the liquidation +of their debt; but unfortunately the Revolution came, and with it the +sale of the property of the church for the benefit of the nation, so +M. Nicolas Deville in his turn did not receive a _sou_. Meanwhile, +Böhmer and Bassenge became bankrupt. The Cardinal de Rohan at his death +left behind him a will by which he appointed the Princess Charlotte de +Rohan-Rochefort his residuary legatee, and she accepted administration of +the estate on condition that she should not be held responsible to the +creditors for any deficiency that might exist. + +At the time of the cardinal’s decease he possessed considerable landed +property in Baden, and personal property to a large amount, consisting in +part of money lent to his relatives, the Prince and Princess de Guéménée, +and the Duke de Montbazon, which the princess neglected to recover, +and which was consequently lost. The princess sold the lands in Baden, +and divided the proceeds among a few favoured creditors, but Deville +obtained little or nothing. After the Restoration—when all the property +remaining unsold was returned to its former owners or their heirs, and an +indemnity was granted for what had been sold—the princess, it is said, +neglected the interests of the creditors by omitting to recover the sums +due to the cardinal’s estate, and especially those owing by the Guéménée +family. + +For this evident neglect of her duty as executrix, it was maintained that +the princess was responsible in the persons of her heirs, notwithstanding +the conditions under which she had undertaken to administer the +cardinal’s will. In accordance with this view, so recently as the year +1864 an action was brought before the Civil Tribunal of the Seine by +the heirs of M. Deville against the Princes de Rohan-Rochefort, as +representatives of the Princess Charlotte de Rohan-Rochefort, to recover +the principal sum for which the assignment of the Saint Waast revenues +had been given, together with cumulative interest, amounting in the whole +to upwards of 2,000,000 francs; but it was argued for the defence that +the cardinal’s estate had been properly administered by the princess, +that the plaintiffs had received the same share as the other creditors, +and that they had no legal claim on the defendants. The tribunal took +this view of the case, and accordingly rejected the plaintiff’s demand +with costs. Such was the end, after the lapse of nearly four score years, +of perhaps the most famous _cause célèbre_ of all time, known in the +annals of French jurisprudence as the _Affaire du Collier_. + +Just as the Countess de la Motte was, to some extent, the imitator of +certain female swindlers of her own era, so has she found imitators in +this our own time. Almost at the moment we are writing[465] Paris is +talking about an act of swindling which bears a certain resemblance to +the Diamond Necklace fraud. It seems that, in the month of February, +1866, a jeweller in Paris, M. Cramer, received a letter sealed with the +Prussian arms, and signed “Comte de Schaffgotsch,” chamberlain of her +majesty the Queen of Prussia, in which he was asked if he was willing to +undertake the execution of some models, in brilliants, of a new order +which the Queen of Prussia intended to create. The jeweller immediately +accepted the commission, and several days afterwards there arrived some +drawings understood to have been executed by the queen herself. The +jeweller set to work forthwith, and in the course of a few weeks he +transmitted to Berlin a magnificent cross surrounded with diamonds. In +reply, he received a letter of congratulation accompanied by an order +for a dozen more diamond crosses, with a further promise of an order for +the crown of the Prince of Hohenzollern as sovereign of the Danubian +Principalities. The jeweller was the happiest of men. His fortune was +evidently made; but when and how was he to forward the crosses? The count +replied that he was just then charged with a diplomatic mission, and +would be at Cologne on a particular day, when the decorations could be +awaiting him at the chief banker’s in that town. + +The jeweller accordingly sends the crosses to the house of Oppenheim and +Co., informing them that they were to be delivered to the chamberlain +of the Queen of Prussia. Some days afterwards the count informed the +bankers by letter that he would pass through the town at a certain hour, +and begged of them to forward to him the jeweller’s parcel by the hands +of one of their clerks. This was accordingly done, and the jeweller is +subsequently informed by letter that the Queen of Prussia is delighted +with the crosses, some more of which her majesty requires. + +But nothing was said as to payment, and the jeweller, uneasy in mind, did +at last what he should have done at first. He called upon the Prussian +ambassador at Paris, who informed him that he had been dealing with a +knave, and that the letters were all forged. The jeweller, in a state of +great consternation, sets out, under the advice of the ambassador, for +Baden, where the Queen of Prussia then is, and obtains an audience of +her majesty, by whom he is assured that she is an entire stranger to the +whole story of the diamond crosses. + +On his return to Paris M. Cramer receives another letter from the +pretended count, who insinuates this time that he might himself be +decorated with the order of the Red Eagle. The jeweller, however, was +now on his guard. The police were communicated with, and they managed to +draw the fox into the trap. He was found to be a man of good family, +the son of an old general, and holding rank and title at the Prussian +court, but whom a passion for gambling had ruined. The police seized, +at the hotel where he put up in Paris, all the jeweller’s letters, some +diamonds detached from the crosses, with several visiting cards, having +the name of the Count von Schaffgotsch on them, together with a blank +stamp bearing the arms of the Queen of Prussia. Owing possibly to the +high connections of the culprit, the case would appear to have been +compromised, for nothing more was heard of this last Diamond swindle. + + + + +XLV. + +SUMMING UP OF THE EVIDENCE AGAINST MARIE-ANTOINETTE. + + +The reader who has accompanied us step by step in our narrative, who has +weighed our statements one by one, and noted the authorities on which +these are based, is perhaps already satisfied of Marie-Antoinette’s +complete innocence of any kind of participation in the great fraud of the +Diamond Necklace, and is convinced of the falsity of the charges brought +against her with regard to her presumed intercourse with the Cardinal +de Rohan. Should any doubt still linger in his mind, this will be +removed, we imagine, on an examination of the annexed summary of facts. +If we prove two things, that the queen was in no degree mixed up in the +Necklace affair, and that she held no kind of intercourse with Madame +de la Motte, then the whole of the countess’s calumnies respecting the +correspondence carried on between the queen and the cardinal, and their +secret meetings at the Little Trianon, necessarily fall to the ground. + +Whatever may have been the follies, or say the crimes even, if you +please, of which Marie-Antoinette was guilty, and which she more than +expiated by her cruel death, complicity in any shape in this contemptible +Diamond Necklace fraud is most certainly not one of them. + +In the first place, if the Countess de la Motte had been that intimate +confidant of the queen which she pretended she was, however secret their +relations may have been, she would still have been able to have brought +forward some shadow of proof of their existence, some trifling souvenir, +for instance, the former possession of which might have been traced to +Marie-Antoinette, some little scrap of her handwriting, even though +undated and unsigned, some single witness who had once seen her in the +queen’s presence, or in the queen’s apartments, even though this had been +a discarded servant, such as the “_bonne citoyenne_,” the “_excellente +patriote_,” Reine Millot, who deposed against her royal mistress at her +trial.[466] Evidence directly compromising the queen in the Necklace +affair would perhaps not have been forthcoming at the time of the trial +before the Court of Parliament, even if it had been the interest of +either party to have produced it; but during the long years of the +Revolution, when the name and memory of Marie-Antoinette were objects +of the bitterest hate and scorn, some one among the many individuals +acquainted with the intrigues of the court might have been expected to +have broken this forced silence, if from no other motive than personal +vanity. + +And yet not a scintilla of evidence, true or false, against the queen has +come to light. In none of the memoirs or letters of the time, written by +those who had opportunities of knowing something of the facts, do we find +the slightest accusation against the queen with regard to the Diamond +Necklace. No one has stated that she was ever seen either with the +Necklace itself, or any of the loose diamonds composing part of it, in +her possession. No one connected with the court, neither Besenval nor De +Lauzun, both on terms of closest intimacy with, and both, to some extent, +detractors of the queen, has stated that Madame de la Motte was ever +once seen in the queen’s company, but all who have made allusion to her, +like Lacretelle, Besenval, and Madame Campan, have stated precisely the +reverse.[467] If she was in almost daily communication with the queen, as +she pretended was the case, she must have been constantly seen by some of +the inferior servants; her friend the gatekeeper of the Little Trianon, +for instance, or the _valet de chambre_, Desclaux, who, when the queen +had perished by the guillotine, and there was no longer any motive for +preserving silence, would have talked of the affair for talking’s sake. + +What, we may ask, could have been the motive that instigated +Marie-Antoinette to obtain possession of the Necklace? It was certainly +not for the purpose of wearing it, for no one ever pretended to have seen +it on her person. It was not with the object of selling it piecemeal, to +stave off some pressing pecuniary difficulty, for the De la Mottes had +the whole of the proceeds; and in none of the contradictory statements +made by them did they ever pretend they were selling the diamonds on the +queen’s behalf. The statement the count made to the jewellers was, that +he inherited the diamonds from his mother; then their joint statement +was, that they sold them on behalf of the cardinal; while their final +statement was, that they were a present to the countess from the queen, +the wage in fact for the dishonourable service which she so unblushingly +asserts she rendered to Marie-Antoinette. Supposing the queen to have +had some motive for possessing the Necklace which we cannot penetrate, +would she have purchased it through such a doubtful pair of agencies as +the Countess de la Motte and the Cardinal de Rohan? The French court’s +resources may have been impoverished, still the royal credit was not yet +at a discount, and even if the queen could not have acquired the Necklace +on her own terms of credit, yet, considering the readiness with which +_fermier-général_ Béranger parted with his two hundred thousand livres, +she would have had no difficulty in raising whatever amount she required +among men of his stamp, such as Baudard de Saint-James and others. + +As there is no direct evidence of the queen’s having ever had the +Necklace, or any of the diamonds belonging to it, let us see what +indirect evidence there is that they were never in her possession. + +On the 1st of February, 1785, Böhmer and Bassenge deliver the Necklace to +the cardinal, who states that it was handed over the same evening to some +man professing to be the bearer of a note from the queen, by Madame de la +Motte in his presence. The cardinal asserts the man to have been Rétaux +de Villette, and the countess’s maid-servant deposes to having admitted +him to her mistress’s apartment just about the hour named. On the 8th of +February, within the week, the negotiation with Bette d’Étienville is +opened, and he is soon after applied to to go to Holland, and dispose of +a large quantity of diamonds. On February 12, the countess commissions +Villette to sell some of the diamonds which belonged to the Necklace, +and on the 15th he is found offering them for sale. Early in March the +count gives Furet, the clockmaker, two diamonds, on account of some +clocks he purchased of him; and shortly afterwards the countess is found +selling diamonds to both Paris and Regnier, the jewellers, and leaving +other diamonds with the latter to have reset. On the 10th of April the +count goes to London, having with him, according to Gray, _fully half_ +of the diamonds belonging to the Necklace, and among them _all the more +valuable ones_. Of this half, Gray states that he bought upwards of +two-thirds. + +Count de la Motte, in his narrative, admits having sold to Gray what +he calls the eighteen oval stones, also thirteen stones of the first +quality, six stones forming the two trefoils, four stones between the +rose and tassels, sixteen stones from the tassels, in all fifty-seven +stones. But Gray, in his declaration, states that he bought eight stones +from the _fil autour_ (the row of diamonds that encircled the neck), the +large pendant brilliant suspended to the centre festoon, eighty of the +stones forming the _esclavage_, some (say one-half) of the brilliants +forming the two bands at the sides, namely, forty-eight; also four stones +at the heads of the tassels, twelve stones from the lower part of the +tassels, and thirty smaller stones also belonging to the tassels, in all +one hundred and eighty-three stones (instead of fifty-seven according +to the count’s version), and for which Count de la Motte received in +money and goods about two hundred and sixty thousand livres. The count +admits having given to Gray twenty-eight stones to set as drop earrings, +twenty-two stones from the festoons to make into a necklace, and the +button stone to set as a ring, in all fifty-one stones. Gray however +declared that he received sixty-one stones for these various purposes. + +Madame de la Motte admits having sold to Paris first twenty-two and +then sixteen stones, in all thirty-eight stones, for which she received +thirty-one thousand livres. She moreover exchanged one stone with a Jew +for some china pomade pots and gave Regnier a couple of large stones +to mount in rings. The count admits having changed with Furet two of +the festoon stones, for which he was allowed two thousand seven hundred +livres, having sold or given to Regnier to mount sixteen stones from +the tassels, twenty-four very small stones from the sides of the oval +stones at the bottom of the tassels, twenty-eight stones encircling the +oval pendants, two small stones on each side of the button, six small +stones supporting the oval stones between the festoons, and twelve small +stones immediately adjoining the ribbon at the top, in all eighty-eight +stones. The eight stones encircling the button, and the four stones which +supported the tassels, the count admits having in his possession, but +they were not at this time unmounted.[468] In addition to the foregoing +we must not omit to note the forty small stones which were intrusted to +Rétaux de Villette to sell, and for which, no doubt, a market had been +long since found in Paris. + +The diamonds, therefore, which the De la Mottes themselves admitted the +possession of, and those which were proved to have been in their hands, +seem to have been as follows: + + Sold to Gray 183 + Mounted by Gray 61 + Sold to Paris 38 + Exchanged with Furet 2 + Exchanged with a Jew 1 + Mounted by Regnier in rings 2 + Sold to, and mounted by Regnier 88 + Remaining in Count de la Motte’s possession 12 + Intrusted to Villette to sell 40 + ----- + 427 + ===== + +As the Necklace contained six hundred and twenty-nine stones, and four +hundred and twenty-seven of these were traceable to the De la Mottes, +leaving simply two hundred and two, or less than one-third to be +accounted for, it follows that Count de la Motte’s statement, to the +effect that the queen, or say anybody else even, had “kept two hundred +and fifty-six diamonds, comprising the most beautiful part of the +Necklace, with ninety-eight small diamonds, and the two finest diamonds +of the first size,”[469] in all three hundred and fifty-six diamonds, +was, like the generality of his statements respecting the Necklace, a +gross lie. + +The diamonds parted with seem to have realized the following amounts: + + Gray 260,000 livres or francs. + Paris 31,000 ” + Furet 2,700 ” + Regnier 27,000 ” + ------- + 320,700 livres, or about £12,800. + ======= + +Madame de la Motte, in her second memorial, puts down the amount +received from Paris at 38,000 livres and from Regnier, in money and +goods, 58,000 livres, equivalent to an increase of 38,000 livres or +upwards of £1,500 to the foregoing amount, bringing up the sum total +to £14,300 sterling. If to this we add the value of what the count +calls the button stone, for which one thousand guineas were offered him +in England, and of the two large brilliants set by Regnier as rings, +and valued by him at twenty-five thousand livres, together with the +value of the necklace and earrings set by Gray, of the diamond-mounted +_bonbonnière_,[470] of the pair of drop earrings set by Regnier, of the +eight diamonds encircling the button, and the four others which supported +the tassels, together with the forty small stones which Villette tried to +sell, we shall arrive at a gross total little short of £20,000. + +The Countess de la Motte states that, during one of her confrontations +with the Cardinal de Rohan, she said out loud to him, in presence of the +judges: “Ever since these gentlemen have been putting interrogatories +to us, you know that neither you nor I have told them a word of +truth:”[471] so far as she was concerned, possibly about the truest +thing she ever said. To show how unworthy of credit the generality +of her statements at the trial were, we will run rapidly through +her examinations, and pick out simply such of her assertions as are +contradicted by independent testimony, or which she subsequently +contradicted herself. Of those numerous statements made by her which the +cardinal maintained to be false, we shall say nothing. + +Lie 1. That she had never represented she had access to the queen (p. +220).[472] She told Grenier that she had reinstated the cardinal in the +good graces of the queen, who dared refuse her nothing (p. 237). + +2. That she had never shown any letters purporting to be from the queen, +for she had never been honoured with any such letters (p. 220). Putting +aside D’Oliva’s evidence on this subject (p. 237), we have that of +Grenier, who expressly states that she showed him a letter which she said +had been written to her by the queen, but would not allow him to read it +(p. 237). + +3. That all she knew of D’Oliva was from casually meeting her in the +Palais Royal (p. 220). She never met her in the Palais Royal, as she +herself subsequently admitted. + +4. That she had never told D’Oliva she was a lady of the court, on terms +of intimacy with the queen (p. 221). + +5. That she had never shown D’Oliva letters purporting to have been +written by the queen (p. 221). If not, why, at the confrontation, did she +wink at D’Oliva, and make signs to her, at this part of her evidence? (p. +237). + +6. That the entire story of dressing up D’Oliva to personate the queen, +and of the midnight meeting in the park, was a foolish and incredible +fable, most wretchedly concocted by the cardinal (p. 221). Subsequently +she admits its truth, but pretends the meeting was a mere pleasantry +got up to quiet the cardinal (p. 245). Afterwards, in her “Mémoires +Justificatifs,” she says it was all arranged at the suggestion of the +queen (p. 87). + +7. That she never gave one thousand or three thousand livres, or +any money whatever, to D’Oliva (p. 221). Putting aside D’Oliva’s +circumstantial statement, with dates and figures (p. 95), Villette +admitted having taken her three hundred livres on behalf of the countess, +and Father Loth proved having taken another four hundred livres to her +for her upholsterer. + +8. That she never received either the fifty thousand or the hundred +thousand livres which the Baron de Planta conveyed to her from the +cardinal (p. 221). The Baron de Planta swore that he handed her both +these amounts (p. 236). If she did not receive them, how else did she +support her extravagant expenditure at this period of her career? Her +stories about the liberal gifts she had received from distinguished +persons were one by one proved to be false. + +9. That the contract was never given to her to obtain the queen’s +approval and signature to it (p. 222). + +10. That the said approval and signature were not written by any person +she knew (p. 222). Villette confessed to having written them by her +direction (p. 244), and thereby admitted he had been guilty of forgery, +which he would hardly have done had it not been the truth. Although +Madame de la Motte adhered to her denial of these facts at all her +examinations, in her “Life” (vol. i. p. 345) she admits that Villette +forged both signature and _approuvés_ in her presence. + +11. That the story about the cardinal bringing the Necklace to her house, +and the casket containing it being handed over to a person who came +with a note professing to be from the queen, was absolutely false from +beginning to end (p. 223). She subsequently admits the truth of all this +in her “Mémoires Justificatifs.” (See p. 127.) + +12. That she received two boxes of diamonds from the cardinal in the +presence of Cagliostro (p. 226). Cagliostro denied this, and Villette +emphatically stated that Cagliostro was entirely innocent of any +complicity in the Necklace affair (p. 245). + +13. That the Count de la Motte went to England to sell the diamonds on +behalf of the cardinal, and having done so, handed the cardinal on his +return drafts for one hundred and twenty-one thousand livres and various +articles of jewellery received in exchange (pp. 226-7). The countess +in her “Life” says not a word of this, but asserts (vol. i. p. 355 _et +seq._) that she received the diamonds as a present from the queen, and +showed them to the cardinal, by whose advice she sent her husband abroad +to sell them on her own, certainly not on the cardinal’s account. + +14. That she neither knew nor suspected that any of the diamonds sold by +her and her husband formed portions of the Necklace (p. 228). She had +previously stated the diamonds sold did belong to the Necklace. + +15. That she never gave thirty thousand livres to the cardinal to be +handed to the jewellers (p. 228). For what purpose, then, did she borrow +thirty-five thousand livres from her notary on the very day? It is true +she states that she borrowed this amount to lend to Madame de Crussol, +but why did she not call Madame de Crussol to prove the fact? + +16. That she had no such transactions with Regnier as those deposed +to by him (p. 236). When Regnier produces his books in support of his +statement, she admits the whole of them, and attributes her former denial +to her bad memory. + +17. That Villette did not write any letters to the cardinal in the name +of the queen (p. 245). Villette himself confessed to having written a +considerable number (p. 244). + +18. That she had previously deposed to having seen a letter in the hands +of the cardinal, purporting to be from the queen, and saying, “The jewel +is superb” (p. 259). She had never deposed to anything of the kind. + +19. That Laporte deposed she had told him a hundred times she would have +nothing to do with the sale of the Necklace (p. 260). No such assertion +as this is to be found in Laporte’s deposition. + +Of recent writers on the subject of the Diamond Necklace whose versions +of the affair are considered damaging to the reputation of the queen, M. +Louis Blanc,[473] is the one to whom the most frequent reference is made. +But M. Louis Blanc, no matter in whatever direction his sympathies may +lie, is too honest a writer to wilfully misrepresent the truth. He does +not assert, therefore, that the queen was a party to the fraud, although +he insinuates that there are certain grounds for believing she was mixed +up with the transaction. We propose, therefore, to examine the arguments +which he brings forward inculpatory of the queen, and to see how far +these are capable of being refuted. + +In the arguments which M. Louis Blanc advances to prove that an intimacy +subsisted between Madame de la Motte and the queen, and that the latter +carried on an intrigue with the Cardinal de Rohan, and was a party to +the purchase of the Necklace, although he does not exactly maintain +the genuineness of the letters said to have passed between the queen +and the cardinal, he insinuates as much, and entirely ignores the fact +of Villette’s confession that these letters were written by him. The +same may be said with regard to Madame de la Motte’s presumed intimacy +with Marie-Antoinette. She boasted, observes M. Louis Blanc, of her +relations with the queen, which she would not have done had there been no +foundation for them, for fear of the imposture being discovered; which is +equivalent to saying that people will not tell lies for fear they should +be found out, a proposition which the amount of falsehood current in the +world proves to be untenable. + +M. Louis Blanc dwells upon the fact of Madame de la Motte having desired +the jewellers to be very cautious in their dealings with the cardinal, +but he says nothing of the excellent use she put this to in her defence, +and which proves she had an ulterior object in acting as she did. In +like manner she made all she could of the circumstance of her having +declined a commission on the sale of the Necklace. But what did she want +with a commission?—she meant to have the Necklace itself. To receive +a commission from the jewellers for having cheated them out of their +property was a little too much for even the Countess de la Motte. + +The box containing the Necklace, says M. Louis Blanc, was given to +Lesclaux [Desclaux], the queen’s _valet de chambre_. The supposition is, +that he was known to the cardinal, who parted with the box without taking +any receipt for it. + +The cardinal declared that Villette was the person to whom the box was +given; and Villette was certainly there at the time, for the countess’s +_femme de chambre_ proved having opened the door to him, and admitting +him to Madame de la Motte’s apartment. It is true that a striking +difference existed between the individual described by the cardinal and +Rétaux de Villette; but this proves but little, for if the countess could +trick out a Palais Royal courtesan with sufficient art to palm her off +upon the cardinal as Marie-Antoinette, whom the cardinal did know, she +would certainly have been competent to transform the forger Villette into +the fair-complexioned, light-haired, slim _valet de chambre_ Desclaux, +whom the cardinal did _not_ know. + +M. Louis Blanc states Madame de la Motte informed the cardinal that the +queen would acknowledge the receipt of the Necklace the next day by a +secret sign, which was given, an important fact admitted by the Abbé +Georgel himself. + +We do not find that Madame de la Motte made any such statement. She says +the queen wrote a note on the following day acknowledging the receipt of +the Necklace.[474] As to the secret sign no one besides the Abbé Georgel, +whose narrative M. Louis Blanc admits is full of grave errors, says a +word about it, not even the cardinal. + +As the time approached for the payment for the Necklace, Madame de la +Motte, says M. Louis Blanc, manifests no anxiety. + +She manifests every anxiety. She borrows thirty-five thousand livres from +her notary on the security of her jewels, thirty thousand of which she +takes to the cardinal for him to hand to the jewellers as interest on the +purchase money, and thereby induce them to wait. She neither dines, nor +sups, nor sleeps at home on that day, her anxiety is so great. + +The cardinal declared to M. Baudard de Saint-James, says M. Louis Blanc, +that he had seen in the queen’s hands the seven hundred thousand livres +destined for the first payment on account of the Necklace. Böhmer, too, +informs Madame Campan that the cardinal had told him he had seen the +queen take the money from a portfolio in a Sèvres porcelain secretary. + +Presuming the cardinal to have said what is stated, it proves nothing +against Marie-Antoinette. It was an exaggeration on his part of something +which Madame de la Motte had told him; in plain language a lie, told by +him to reassure the jewellers and Baudard de Saint-James, who was one of +their largest creditors. + +M. Louis Blanc tells us that the cardinal hides Madame de la Motte, for +fear she should let out the secret of the correspondence, and presses her +to fly beyond the Rhine. + +All this is denied by the cardinal, and his word is equally worthy of +credit with that of the Countess de la Motte, whose statement M. Louis +Blanc has adopted. + +M. Louis Blanc mentions as a point in the Countess’s favour, that after +the arrest of the cardinal she refuses to fly. + +It was three o’clock in the morning when, worn out by excitement and +fatigue, she had great need of rest, and when she did not believe the +danger so imminent as it proved to be, that she refused to fly. What +she would have done a few hours later, had she not been arrested in the +meanwhile, is another question. + +According to M. Louis Blanc the authorities refused to arrest Count de la +Motte. + +The police agents who arrested the countess had no instructions to arrest +her husband, whose complicity in the fraud was not then suspected. The +count, however, took good care not to allow them a second opportunity, +for in a very few hours he made for the coast as fast as post horses +could convey him. M. Louis Blanc complains that Madame de la Motte’s +explanations of the confessions of D’Oliva and Villette, and of the +deposition of Gray the jeweller, are not allowed to figure in the report +of the trial. + +M. Louis Blanc has fallen into a grave error here. The countess’s +explanations of these different matters figure at full length in the +verbatim reports of her two examinations, preserved in the National +Archives.[475] Gray’s declaration, too, published in the cardinal’s +“Pièces Justificatives,” was, we should imagine, filed by the registrar +of the Court. + +The silence of the queen on receiving the jeweller’s letter of July 12th +is regarded by M. Louis Blanc as evidence of her guilt. + +Marie-Antoinette read this letter with no particular attention, and burnt +it, says Madame Campan, the moment afterwards in her presence. There was +a certain mystery in the language—the Necklace itself not being even +mentioned—which, though it might have been clear enough to the queen had +she been the purchaser of the jewel, was otherwise full of ambiguity. +Besides, she had a firm conviction that Böhmer was somewhat touched in +his head—a conviction, by the way, very generally entertained by persons +about the court, and openly alluded to during the discussion on the +sentence in the Court of Parliament (p. 268). + +The cardinal’s well-known diplomatic skill, says M. Louis Blanc, made it +impossible for him to have been deceived. + +Diplomatic skill counts for little against the arts and wiles of an +intriguing woman, and one with whom, it must be remembered, her dupe was +madly infatuated; for does not Beugnot tell us that, whilst glancing over +some of the hundreds of letters from the Cardinal de Rohan to Madame de +la Motte, he saw with pity “the ravages which the delirium of love, aided +by that of ambition, had wrought on the mind of this unhappy man?”[476] +This is the keynote to much that may seem inexplicable in the cardinal’s +conduct in the latter stages of the Necklace affair. + +According to M. Louis Blanc Madame de la Motte endeavours to screen the +queen. + +Whatever she may have done at her preliminary examination, she did not +screen the queen before the Court of Parliament, but pretended she had +seen in the cardinal’s possession two hundred letters written to him by +Marie-Antoinette. All the countess’s aim was to screen herself, no matter +whom she sacrificed to attain this object. + +M. Louis Blanc says that the Count de la Motte proclaims his intention +of speaking the truth, but M. de Vergennes will not consent to his being +brought to Paris. + +When the trial was over, the count made a great parade of the evidence +he could have given. He was too good a judge, however, to come forward +at the trial. M. de Vergennes, moreover, could hardly have refused his +consent to the count’s coming to Paris out of consideration for the +queen, as he had long been her secret enemy, and was an admitted partisan +of the cardinal’s. + +It is asserted by M. Louis Blanc that the Princess de Lamballe visits the +Salpêtrière, and gives alms to the superior for the countess. + +M. Louis Blanc does not state whence he derived this information, +which we find repeated by another writer on the dubious authority of +an anonymous journal written prior to March, 1801.[477] The countess +herself, however, makes no allusion to this circumstance either in her +“Mémoires Justificatifs” or in her “Life.” + +Finally, M. Louis Blanc asserts that the Count de la Motte is paid two +hundred thousand livres to suppress the publication of the countess’s +“Mémoires Justificatifs.” + +No authority is given for this statement, and we doubt if any such +large amount, or indeed anything approaching to it, was ever paid. +Still, whatever may have been the sum paid for the suppression of these +“Mémoires,” even if the queen were a party to the transaction, it proves +really nothing against her. Our own criminal records abound in instances +of victims submitting to extortion for a long series of years, to save +themselves from threatened exposure—to escape being accused of some +degrading crime of which they are known to have been perfectly innocent. + +It is no part of our plan to enter upon a defence of Marie-Antoinette +against those other accusations which the bitter hatred of individuals +and the fierce passions of the time laid to her charge. One of her ablest +defenders has said, that “all of youth, all of the woman, all of humanity +in the unfortunate Queen of France, is explained by these words of the +Prince de Ligne: ‘The queen’s pretended gallantry was nothing more than +a sentiment of profound friendship for a few individuals and a queen’s +womanly coquetry, that aimed at pleasing every one.’” Time, which rights +all things, is at last doing Marie-Antoinette justice, and “she whom +patriotism accused, and demagogism condemned, humanity has well nigh +absolved.” + + + + +APPENDIX. + + +DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE, WITH ITS “ESCLAVAGE” AND +TASSELS; + +Based on the description given in the “Pièces Justificatives pour le +Cardinal de Rohan,” corrected by careful comparison with a _facsimile_ of +the drawing of the Necklace prepared by the crown jewellers. + +1. The _fil autour_ (the row of diamonds encircling the neck), composed +of seventeen brilliants, weighing from 18 to 33 grains each. + + Count de la Motte says thirteen of these stones were bought by + Gray (see _ante_, p. 146), but the latter states that he only + purchased eight. Two were set by Regnier as rings (see _ante_, + p. 140). + +2. Forty-one brilliants, forming the three festoons suspended from the +_fil autour_ above, weighing from 12 to 20 grains each, estimating one +with another. + + Twenty-two of these were set by Gray, as a necklace for the + countess (see _ante_, p. 147); two were exchanged with Furet; + one was set as a ring for the count; the remainder were sold to + Paris (see _ante_, p. 148). + +3. Two pendant brilliants hanging within the side festoons, each weighing +50 grains. + + The count says these were bought by Gray. Together with the + other pendant brilliants, they formed part of the eighteen oval + stones (see _ante_, p. 144). + +4. Two pendant brilliants hanging between the large and smaller festoons. + + The count says these were also bought by Gray (see _ante_, p. + 144). + +5. Six small stones supporting the above. + + These were among the diamonds delivered by the count to Regnier + (see _ante_, p. 148). + +6. A pendant brilliant, suspended from the _fil autour_ above by a +trefoil, and weighing 34 grains. A stone of superb quality. + + The count says this was bought by Gray (see _ante_, p. 144). + +7. Fourteen brilliants surrounding the above, weighing 7⅝ carats. + + Delivered by the count to Regnier (see _ante_, p. 148). + +8. Three brilliants, forming the trefoil, each weighing 13 grains. + + These with the stones of the second trefoil, must have been the + six diamonds which the count speaks of as forming the rose of + two oval ones, and which he says he exchanged with Gray (see + _ante_, p. 146). + +9. A pendant brilliant, at the lower part of the centre festoon, hanging +from a trefoil, and weighing 45 grains. + + Bought by Gray (see _ante_, p. 144). + +10. Fourteen brilliants, surrounding the above, weighing 10 carats. + + Delivered by the count to Regnier (see _ante_, p. 148). + +11. Three brilliants, forming the trefoil, weighing from 17 to 20 grains. +Stones of extreme beauty. + + Exchanged by the count with Gray (see _ante_, p. 146). + +12. One hundred and twenty-eight fine brilliants, forming the _esclavage_ +from the _fil_ above to the knots of the two centre tassels; the stones +all matching, and weighing 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12 grains each. + + Gray bought eighty of these. + +13. Sixty-two small brilliants, inserted in the _esclavage_, weighing 3 +and 4 grains each. + +14. A brilliant, forming the centre of the rose in the middle of the +_esclavage_. A very handsome stone, without the slightest flaw, weighing +45 grains. + + This was the button stone valued at one thousand guineas, which + Gray set for the count as a ring (see _ante_, p. 147). + +15. Eight brilliants surrounding the above, weighing 12 and 13 grains +each. + + Retained by the count. + +16. Ninety-six brilliants, forming the two side bands: the stones +assorted, and weighing 6, 7, 8, and 9 grains each. + + Half, or thereabouts, of these stones, were bought by Gray; + twelve were delivered by the count to Regnier (see _ante_, p. + 148). + +17. Forty-six small brilliants, inserted in the said bands, weighing 2 +and 3 grains each. + + These must have been the stones intrusted to Villette to + dispose of. + +18. Eight brilliants, at the heads of the tassels. Superb stones matching +with each other, and weighing 14 and 15 grains each. + + Four of these were bought by Gray. + +19. Twelve pendant brilliants, hanging at the bottom of the tassels, +remarkable for their whiteness, and weighing from 16 to 26 grains each. + + Bought by Gray. They formed part of the eighteen oval stones + (see _ante_, p. 144). + +20. Twenty-four very small stones at the sides of the above. + + Delivered by the count to Regnier (see _ante_, p. 148). + +21. Sixteen round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from 11 to +14 grains each. + + Delivered by the count to Regnier (see _ante_, p. 148). + +22. Twelve round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from 8 to 10 +grains each. + +23. Thirty round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from 6 to 8 +grains each. + + Gray states that he bought the whole of these. The count says + he only parted with sixteen (see _ante_, p. 147). + +24. Thirty round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from 4 to 6 +grains each. + + Twenty-eight of these were given to Gray, to mount as drop + earrings (see _ante_, p. 147). + +25. Fifty-two small round-shaped brilliants in the tassels. + + Twenty-two of the largest of these were sold to Paris; others + the count had mounted for a watch-chain (see _ante_, p. 148). + + +A SELECTION FROM THE LETTERS WHICH THE COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE PRETENDED HAD +PASSED BETWEEN THE QUEEN AND THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN. + + +FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. + + _April 28, 1784._ + + “I read with indignation the manner in which you have been + deceived by your niece. I never had any knowledge of the + letters you mention to me, and I question whether they + ever existed. The persons you complain of have in reality + contributed to your disgrace, but the methods they used to + effect it were very different from those you suppose. I have + forgotten all, and require of you never to speak to me of + anything that has reference to what is past. The account which + the countess has given me of your behaviour towards her has + made a stronger impression on me than all you have written to + me. I hope you will never forget that it is to her you are + indebted for your pardon, as also for the letter I write to you. + + “I have always looked upon you as a very inconsistent and + indiscreet man, which opinion necessarily obliges me to + great reservedness; and I own to you, that nothing but a + conduct quite the reverse of that you have held can regain my + confidence and merit my esteem.” + + +FROM THE CARDINAL TO THE QUEEN. + + _May 6, 1784._ + + “Yes; I am the happiest mortal breathing! My _master_ pardons + me: he grants me his confidence; and, to complete my happiness, + he has the goodness to smile upon his _slave_, and to give + him public signals of a right understanding. Such unexpected + favours caused in me so great an emotion, that I for a moment + was apprehensive lest the motive should be suspected by the + extraordinary answers which I made. But I soon recovered when + I saw my absence of mind was attributed to quite another + motive; upon which, I assumed an air of approbation, in order + to divert observation from the real object. This circumstance + is a warning to me, to direct henceforth my words and actions + in a more prudential manner. + + “I know how to appreciate all the obligations I am under to + the charming countess. In whatever situation I may chance to + be, I shall be gratefully mindful of all that she has done in + my behalf. So much for that. All depends on my _master_. The + facility he has of making beings happy, makes his _slave_ wish + for the means of following his footsteps and being the echo of + his good pleasure.” + + +FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. + + _May 15, 1784._ + + “I cannot disapprove of the desire you have of seeing me. I + could wish, in order to facilitate you the means, to remove + all obstacles that oppose it; but you would not have me act + imprudently, to bring about more compendiously a thing which + you must be persuaded you will shortly obtain. + + “You have enemies who have done you much disservice with the + _minister_[478] (the countess will tell you the meaning of + that word, which you must use for the future). The turning of + them out cannot but be advantageous to you. I know the changes + and revolutions that are to happen, and have calculated all + the circumstances which will infallibly bring forward the + opportunities which I desire. In the interim be very cautious, + above all, discreet; and, as there is no foreseeing what + may happen, be reserved, and greatly perplexed in what you + hereafter write to me.” + + +FROM THE CARDINAL TO THE QUEEN. + + _July 29, 1784._ + + “My adorable _master_, permit your _slave_ to express his joy + for the favours you have conferred upon him. That charming + _rose_ lies upon my heart. I will preserve it to my latest + breath. It will incessantly recall to me the first instant of + my happiness. + + “In parting from the countess, I was so transported, that I + found myself imperceptibly brought to the charming spot which + you had made choice of. After having crossed the shrubbery, + I almost despaired of knowing again the place where your + beloved _slave_ threw himself at your feet. Destined, no doubt, + to experience during that delightful night none but happy + sensations, I found again the pleasing turf, gently pressed by + those pretty little feet. I rushed upon it as if you had still + been there, and kissed with as much ardour your grassy seat, + as that fair hand which was yielded to me with a grace and + kindness that belong to none but my dear _master_. Enchanted, + as it were, to that bewitching spot, I found the greatest + difficulty in quitting it; and I should certainly have spent + the night there, had I not been apprehensive of making my + attendants uneasy, who knew of my being out. + + “Soon after my return home, I went to bed, but pressed for a + considerable time a restless pillow. My imagination, struck + with your adorable person, was filled during my slumbers with + the most delightful sensations. Happy night! that proved the + brightest day in my life! Adorable _master_, your _slave_ + cannot find expressions to describe his felicity! You yesterday + witnessed his embarrassment, his bashfulness, his silence, + the natural effects of the most genuine love! You alone in + the universe could produce what he never before experienced. + Enveloped in these pleasing sensations, I sometimes imagine + it to be only a visionary felicity, and that I am still under + the influence of a dream; but, combining all the circumstances + of my happiness, recalling to mind the enchanting sound of + that voice which pronounced my pardon, I give way to an excess + of joy, accompanied with exclamations, which, if they were + overheard, would argue distraction. Such is my condition, + which I deem supremely happy, and wish for its continuance the + remainder of my life. + + “I shall not depart till I have heard from you.” + + +FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. + + _August 16, 1784._ + + “An observation made to me yesterday, with an air of curiosity + and suspicion, will prevent my going to-day to T—— (Trianon), + but will not, for all that, deprive me of seeing my amiable + _slave_. The _minister_ sets out at eleven, to go a-hunting at + R—— (Rambouillet): his return will be very late, or, to speak + more properly, next morning. I hope, during his absence, to + make myself amends for the tediousness and contradiction I + have experienced for these two days past. Imprudent conduct has + brought me to that pass, that I cannot, without danger, remove + objects that are displeasing to me, and who haunt me. They + have so thoroughly studied me, and know so little how to feign + and dissemble, that they attribute my change to nothing but a + discretion, which to them appears blameworthy; it is therefore + very essential to be on one’s guard, to avoid all surprise. + + “The daring question put to me, persuades me that my confidence + has been abused, as well as my good-nature, and that advantage + has been taken of circumstances to fetter my will. I have a + way of coming at information concerning it, but I will first + consult thee. As thou wilt play the principal part in the + scheme I have devised, we must needs agree as well on this + point as we did last Friday on the S——. This comparison will + make thee laugh, no doubt; but, as it is a just one, and I + desire to give thee a proof of it to-night, before we talk of + serious matters, observe exactly what follows: Do thou assume + the garb of a messenger, and, with a parcel in thy hand, be + walking about at half-past eleven under the porch of the + chapel: I will send the countess, who shall serve thee for + a guide, and conduct thee up a little back staircase to an + apartment, where thou wilt find the object of thy desires.” + + +FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. + + _January 15, 1785._ + + “If it had not been my intention there should be a mystery in + the purchase of the jewel, I certainly should not have employed + you to procure it for me. I am not accustomed to enter thus + into treaty with my jewellers, and this way of proceeding is so + much the more contrary to what I owe to myself, as two words + were sufficient to put me in possession of that object. I am + surprised that you dare to propose to me such an arrangement; + but let there be no more said about it. It is a trifle that has + occasioned me to make a few reflections, which I will impart to + you when opportunity offers. The countess will deliver to you + your paper. I am sorry you have given yourself so much trouble + to no purpose.” + + +FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. + + _January 29, 1785._ + + “How is this? Affectation with me? Why, my friend, ought people + in our predicament to act under restraint, to seek for shifts, + and deal with insincerity? Dost thou know that thy reserve, and + thy false pride, drew upon thee the letter thou hast received; + and that but for the countess, who has told me all, I should + have attributed that pretended arrangement to quite a different + motive. Fortunately, all is cleared up. The countess will + deliver thee the writing, and explain the motives by which I + have been actuated in this matter. As I am supposed ignorant + of the confidence thou hast shewn her, as also of the token + of trust that thou wilt give her, by laying before her our + particular engagements, that is a more than sufficient reason + to make thee secure, and remove all difficulties. Thou wilt + keep the writing, and deliver it to none but me. + + “I hope, notwithstanding my disorder, to see thee before the + holiday. I expect the countess to-morrow. I will tell her + whether I shall be able to receive from my _slave_ the object + which had nearly set us at variance.” + + +FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL. + + _July 19, 1785._ + + “I believe I have informed you of the disposal of the sum + which I destined for the object in question, and that probably + I should not fulfil the engagements till my return from + Fontainebleau. The countess will remit to you thirty thousand + livres, to pay the interest. The privation of the capital is to + be taken into consideration, and this compensation will make + them easy. + + “You complain, and I say not a word: a very extraordinary + circumstance; time will, perhaps, acquaint you with the motive + of my silence. I do not love suspicious people, especially + when there is so little reason for it. I possess a principle I + never will recede from. Your last conversation is very opposite + to what you related to me at a preceding period. Reflect upon + it, and if your memory serves you faithfully, by comparing + the eras, you will judge what I am to think of your pressing + solicitations.” + + +AN EPITOME OF THE “FIRST PROCÈS-VERBAL DESCRIPTIVE OF THE DOCUMENTS +TENDING TO ESTABLISH CRIMINALITY. SEP. 9, 10, 11, 1785.”[479] + +(_Preserved in the National Archives—Section, Procès du Collier, Series +X², No. 18,576._) + +The _procès verbal_ in question is drawn up in the quaint legal +phraseology of the _ancien régime_, and abounds not only in the +tautological repetition and iteration in which lawyers have ever +delighted, but in queer sounding scraps of the obsolete jargon of +eighteenth century procedure. + +It commences by setting forth that in the year 1785 on Friday the 9th +September at three in the afternoon, Jean Baptiste Maximilien Pierre +Titon, king’s councillor in his High Court of Parliament, commissioner +in the present case, assisted by Maître Etienne Fremyn, barrister of +the court, and one of the chief clerks of the criminal registry of the +said court, was applied to by Maître Pierre de Laurencel, one of the +deputies of the king’s procureur-général. The latter stated, with the +customary prolixity of gentlemen of the long robe, that by virtue of +royal letters patent, issued at St. Cloud on September 5th, empowering +the High Court to take cognizance of the facts therein set forth and all +matters appertaining thereto, and in accordance with a decree pronounced +by the said High Court on September 7th, empowering the procureur-général +to proceed “against the authors, abettors, participators, accomplices +and adherents as well of the transaction itself as of the forgery of +the queen’s handwriting and signature,” it had been ordered that the +documents tending to prove criminality or to throw light on the case +which should be produced by the king’s procureur-général, should be +deposited at the criminal registry of the court, and should there remain, +and that a _procès-verbal_ descriptive of the said documents should be +drawn up in presence of the deputies of the king’s procureur-général. +Both classes of documents had been duly deposited by the king’s +procureur-général at the criminal registry of the court on the 7th +September. Consequently he (Maître de Laurencel) now appeared to assist +in drawing up the descriptive _procès-verbal_ of the documents tending to +prove criminality _only_. + +Titon, having duly certified this application, gives orders to Maître +Fremyn to at once produce the said documents tending to prove criminality. + +Here follows a minute description of each of the bundle of fifteen +documents produced. The size of the paper, the number of pages written +on, the number of lines on each page, the words with which each page +begins and finishes, the style of the signatures, the fact whether or not +there were any interlineations, or words struck out or underlined; all +these particulars are minutely recorded in every instance. + +The first document, entitled “Mémoire instructif,” written on two sheets +of paper _à la Tellière_, contains four full pages and three lines and +three words on the fifth page, all apparently written by the same hand, +and is signed “Bohmer, Bassenge, le Card. de Rhoan,” (_sic_). It is noted +that there is nothing scratched out or written over, but that on the +twenty-eighth line of the second page, are added in parentheses and in a +smaller hand the words “which was the 1st February.” + +The second document is “a declaration made to the king by Mgr. the +Cardinal de Rohan” consisting of fifteen lines written on one side of +a large sheet of letter paper, beginning with the words, “A woman whom +I have believed” and terminating “Md. la Mothe d. Vallois.” This must +be the statement written by the cardinal at the suggestion of the king +immediately prior to his arrest. + +The third is a receipt dated the 30th July 1785, for the sum of 30,000 +livres, written on half a sheet of letter paper folded in two, and signed +Bôhmer & Company. + +The fourth is an envelope, consisting of a large sheet of letter paper, +outside of which is written “This paper, in case of my death, belongs and +must be handed to M. Bôhmer, jeweller to the Queen ... this 18th February +1785.” + +The next document which is worthy of a more detailed notice is described +in the following minute terms in the _procès-verbal_. + +“The fifth document, inclosed in the said envelope and headed +‘_Propositions and conditions of price and payment_,’ is written half +way across the front and the back of the first leaf of a sheet of letter +paper. The first page on the front side containing eighteen lines, the +first of which consists of the word ‘_Proposals_’ and the eighteenth of +the words ‘_4th, one might facilitate_,’ remarking that below the third +line of the said first front page, is a flourish and that at the margin +of the said page, which is left blank, is written three times the word +‘_approved_’ in a very fine handwriting, differing from that filling the +page; namely, the first time in front of the sixth line, the second time +in front of the eleventh line, and the third and last time in front of +the sixteenth line. The second page on the back containing twelve lines, +the first of which consists of these words ‘_calm in the matter_,’ and +the twelfth line of these ‘_later on_,’ remarking likewise that on the +marginal half of the said back page is written twice in a very fine +handwriting the word ‘_approved_,’ the first time in front of the third +line, and the second in front of the tenth: remarking likewise that at +the side of the said writing, written in three lines on half the right +hand margin, are these words, ‘_Accepted the above arrangements, the +29th January 1785_,’ and below the signature, ‘Böhmer & Company,’ and +still lower down a flourish: remarking besides that on the half margin +to the left in front of the word ‘_accepted_’ are written these words, +‘_Approved, Marie-Antoinette de France_,’ in a very fine handwriting, +apparently similar to the other words ‘_approved_’ contained in the said +document, and below a dash of the pen, and still lower down a flourish; +that besides there is no erasure, interlineation, or word written above +another in the said document.” + +The sixth is a short letter of three lines and two words, apparently from +the cardinal to Böhmer, as it commences, “I should like, M. Bohmer,” and +bears a memorandum in another hand, beginning, “Received this letter +from monseigneur.” It is addressed to “Monsieur, Monsieur Bemer (_sic_), +jeweller to the Queen, Rue de Vendosme, near the Tennis Court at Paris,” +and is countersigned “Card. de Rohan,” and to it is attached a seal +unbroken, and apparently bearing the arms of a cardinal. + +The seventh is a letter of ten lines dated Paris the 1st February, 1785, +commencing, “Monsieur Bôhmer, her Majesty,” and signed by the cardinal. + +The eighth is a more lengthy document, filling three and a half pages of +paper _à la Tellière_. It is a memorandum dated Paris, August 17th, 1785, +signed Ste. James (who thus spells his name), and appears to explain his +financial transactions with Böhmer. It is carefully noted with regard to +this document that although there are neither erasures, interlineations, +nor words written over others, that certain specified portions are +underlined. + +The ninth, enclosed in the former, is a copy of Böhmer’s acknowledgment +of his debt to Saint James, and is dated the 16th March, 1785. + +It being now nine in the evening, the completion of the _procès-verbal_ +was adjourned to the following day, when, with the same formality and a +due amount of signing and countersigning Maître de Laurencel renewed his +application, and Councillor Commissioner Titon ordered that Maître Fremyn +should comply with it. Whereupon the last named at once produced + +The tenth document, filling four full pages of paper _à la Tellière_, +containing a statement of the cardinal’s examination in the Bastille, +dated the 18th August, and conjointly signed “Le Card. de Rohan, Thiroux +de Crosne, Delauney and Delachapelle.” The _procès-verbal_, which gives +as usual the words at the beginning and end of every page and the number +of lines, notes that the two first words of the sixth line of the first +page and sixth word of the seventh line of the third page are struck out, +and that the sixth word of the thirteenth line of the fourth page is +underlined. + +The eleventh “is a document on a sheet of large letter paper containing +three pages, the first of which of twenty-three lines begins with these +words ‘_Confidential Declaration of Monseigneur the Cardinal de Rohan_,’ +and finishes at the twenty-third line by these, ‘_in the month of July +1784, I._’ The second page is of twenty-five lines, the first beginning +with these words, ‘_met in effect at the hour appointed_,’ and the +twenty-fifth ending with these, ‘_that they have even wished_.’ We have +remarked that the seventh word which seems to be the word ‘_woman_,’ +is struck out, and there has been substituted for it above, the word +‘_person_.’ We have also remarked in the fourth line, between the word +‘_this_’ and the word ‘_person_,’ is written by way of insertion and +above, the word ‘_same_.’ We have further remarked that between the +eighteenth and the nineteenth line are written as an interlineation the +words, ‘_my absurd_,’ and that in the nineteenth line the fifth word is +struck out. The third and last page is of twenty-one lines, the first +beginning with these words ‘_to refuse and that I have forced them to +accept_,’ and the twenty-first line ending with these, the ‘_Sieurs +Bôhmer_.’ We have remarked that in the tenth line, the ninth word is +written over, that in the eleventh (line) the third and fourth words +are likewise written over, that the last word of the sixteenth line is +also written over, that in the seventeenth line the first and the third +words are also written over. We have further remarked that under the +twenty-first line of the said third page are three lines, and the date +of the year 1785, forming the fourth line, in a different handwriting +from that comprising the above written document, the first of which lines +begins by these words, ‘_I approve the writing_,’ and the third line ends +with these, ‘_done at the Bastille this 20th August_,’ and below the +signature ‘Le Card. de Rohan,’ with flourish.” + +The twelfth consists of fourteen lines written on the first page of a +sheet of paper _à la Tellière_ beginning “I the undersigned confess,” +and ending “of diamonds,” beneath which is the signature, “Louis Jean +Marie Desclaux.” This is the Lesclos or Desclos, belonging to the queen’s +household, to whom Madame de la Motte pretended she handed the casket +containing the Necklace. + +The thirteenth, filling two and a half pages of paper _à la Tellière_ and +commencing, “To-day the seventeenth August,” appears from words referring +to drawers and articles of furniture, quoted as commencing and ending the +second page, as those of “_procès-verbal_,” with which it concludes to +have been a _procès-verbal_ of the search made at the Palais-Cardinal, +for the grand almoner’s papers. It bears the signature of the Cardinal +de Rohan, the Marshal de Castries, the Count de Vergennes, the Baron de +Breteuil, and the lieutenant of police, Thiroux de Crosne. + +The fourteenth, closed and fastened to the preceding with a blue ribbon, +fills two pages of a small sheet of letter paper, and commences, “Send +for B. this morning,” but the few words quoted afford no clue as to what +it refers to. It is merely signed with a flourish, and headed on the +first page “No. 1.” + +The fifteenth, also closed and fastened to the two preceding ones with +blue ribbons, is likewise written on a small sheet of letter paper. It +is headed “No. 2,” and the words quoted—“The last price shall be fixed,” +“in six months,” “shall be carried to,” and “in the afternoon,”—seem +to indicate some note referring to the purchase and delivery of the +Necklace, found in all probability amongst the cardinal’s papers. + +These documents being thus described were numbered in succession, +initialled and deposited in the criminal registry at nine in the evening, +the _procès-verbal_ being again signed by Titon, De Laurencel and Fremyn. + +On the following day, the 11th, the commissioners again met to examine +three documents which Titon had previously weeded out from a bundle of +papers already classed as merely tending to throw light on the case, in +order that they might be added to those tending to prove criminality. + +“The first,” written on two sheets of paper _à la Tellière_, which we +have fastened together with red thread, contains six pages and six lines. +It commences with the words, “Observations to the Court by M. de la Csse +de Valois,” and the sentences preserved are “to go into Champagne,” +“the Prince raised alarms,” “to calm his agents,” “like madmen and that +he would take us as far as the gate of Meaux,” “they do not serve to +make the king believe all that I wish,” “and have begged the Prince to +tell him,” “I have never shown any one,” “my pension,” “and perhaps my +unhappy husband despairing at having wedded,” “if I have wrongs, his +Majesty.” Every word altered, struck out or inserted, is noted by the +commissioners, and attention is called to the fact, “that in the date of +the year, 1776, the second 7 seems to have been written over the figure +6,” and that at the bottom of the seventh page are written the following +words, “Jeanne Marie De Valois de St. Remy, ensuite de Caze Csse de la +Motte, de la pénicière,” and lower down, “at the Bastille, Saturday, 29th +August, 1785.” + +The second, written on a sheet of paper _à la Tellière_, and containing a +page and a half, is the letter which we have quoted on page 187 _et seq._ + +The third and last “is a note which seems to us to have been written by +the hand of the said De la Motte, at the back of the list of linen given +by her to her washerwoman, the twenty-fifth August, which note has been +initialled and signed by the said De la Motte, and by the Commissioner +Chénon, and runs as follows, ‘M. Filliau of Bar sur Aube, being at my +house four months ago, sold for me to a large jeweller, his cousin, to +the amount of 30 thousand livres, which I also handed to Monseigneur. +There were 22 small ones at 500 livres a-piece, ... then 52 at 400 +livres a-piece, which I begged M. Filliau to sell for me, unknown to my +husband.’ To which last document we have pasted a piece of white paper to +inscribe the number of the said document, and to append our signature and +that of the said Maître de Laurencel, as well as those that may have to +be appended in course of the instruction.” + +The _procès-verbal_ is then formally wound up and signed by Titon, De +Laurencel, and Fremyn. + + +SOME SATIRICAL VERSES, TO WHICH THE NECKLACE AFFAIR GAVE RISE. + +(From “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, +la Cour et la Ville.”) + + +I. + + Voici venir le temps pascal, + Que pensez-vous du cardinal? + Opinez-vous qu’il chantera + Alleluia? + + Le Saint-Père l’avait rougi, + La cour de France l’a noirci, + Le Parlement le blanchira: + Alleluia! + + Que Cagliostro ne soit rien, + Qu’il soit Maltais, Juif ou Chrétien, + A l’affaire que fait cela? + Alleluia! + + De Versailles comme à Paris, + Tous les grands et tous les petits + Veulent élargir Oliva: + Alleluia! + + Planta, du fond de sa prison, + Demande grâce au bon Baron, + Qui lui dit qu’il y restera: + Alleluia! + + De Valois le conte insensé, + Par un Collier fut commencé, + Un Collier le finira: + Alleluia! + + Survient Villette l’écrivain, + Confus d’avoir prêté sa main + Comme La Motte l’exigea: + Alleluia! + + Pour d’Étienville au teint vermeil, + A la Grève un coup de soleil + Sur l’épaule le frappera: + Alleluia! + + Voilà l’histoire du procès + Qui de Paris cause l’accès; + Nous dirons, quand il finira: + Alleluia! + + +II. + + Illustre prisonnier, tirez-nous d’embarras: + Êtes-vous cardinal, ou ne l’êtes-vous pas? + Hélas! serait-ce vrai, que la cruelle Rome + Ait pu dans sa fureur dégrader un saint homme? + Un Rohan! Répondez. Vous détournez les yeux; + Ah! vous pleurez le sort de vos tristes cheveux. + Vous voilà donc réduit à la simple calotte! + Ce n’est pas le seul mal que vous ait fait La Motte. + + +III. + + Target, dans un gros mémoire, + A traité tant bien que mal + La sotte et fâcheuse histoire + De ce pauvre cardinal, + Où sa verbeuse éloquence + Et son froid raisonnement + Prouvent jusqu’à l’indécence + Que c’est un grand innocent. + + J’entends le sénat de France + Lui dire un de ces matins: + Ayez un peu de décence, + Et laissez là vos catins. + Mais le Pape, moins honnête; + Pourra dire à ce nigaud: + Prince, à qui n’a pas de tête, + Il ne faut pas de chapeau. + + +IV. + + Cagliostro, homme savant, + Enseigne au Prince la magie. + Ils n’étaient que deux seulement, + Mais par tour de sorcellerie, + Les voilà trois: Qui l’eût prédit? + De surprise ôtant sa calotte, + Le bon cardinal vit La Motte, + Et La Motte le vit. + + +V. + + Malgré ce gros factum si souvent refondu, + Et l’arrêt de la cour si lestement rendu, + L’innocente candeur du prélat de Saverne + Brille comme un étr... au fond d’une lanterne. + + +VI. + + Des Valois La Motte est la fille, + On n’en peut douter: + Car un arrêt va lui faire porter + Les armes de sa famille. + + +MEMORIAL + +CONCERNING THE HOUSE OF SAINT-REMI DE VALOIS, SPRUNG FROM THE NATURAL +SON WHOM HENRI II., KING OF FRANCE, HAD BY NICOLE DE SAVIGNY, LADY AND +BARONESS DE SAINT-REMI. + + +ARMS OF THE HOUSE DE SAINT-REMI DE VALOIS. + +_Argent, a fess azure charged with three fleurs-de-luce or._ + +Henri the Second, King of France, had by Nicole de Savigny,[480] Henri +de Saint-Remi, who follows. The said Nicole de Savigny, styled High and +Puissant Lady, Lady of Saint-Remi, Fontette, du Chatellier and Noez, +married Jean de Ville, Knight of the King’s Order, and made her last will +on the 12th of January, 1590, in which she declared, “That the late King +Henri the Second had made a donation to Henri Monsieur, his son, the sum +of 30,000 crowns sol. which she had received in 1558.” + +II. DEGREE. _Fourth Progenitor._] Henri de Saint-Remi, called Henri +Monsieur, is styled High and Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord of the Manors +and Baron du Chatellier, Fontette, Noez and Beauvoir, Knight of the +King’s Order, Gentleman of the Bedchamber in Ordinary, Colonel of a +regiment of horse, and of foot, and Governor of Château-Villain; married +by contract October 31, 1592, articled at Essoyes, in Champagne, Dame +Christiana de Luz, styled High and Puissant Lady, relict of Claude de +Fresnay, Lord of Loupy, Knight of the King’s Order, and daughter of +the Hon. Jacques de Luz, also Knight of the King’s Order, and of Lady +Michelle du Fay, Lord and Lady of Bazoilles; died at Paris on the 14th +of February, 1621, and had of his marriage the son who follows: + +III. DEGREE. _Third Progenitor._] Renatus de Saint-Remi, styled High and +Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord and Baron de Fontette, Gentleman in Ordinary +to the King’s Bedchamber, Captain of a hundred men-at-arms, died March +11, 1663, and had married, by articles entered into April 25, 1646, at +Essoyes, Jacquette Brevau, by whom, amongst others, he had the following +son: + +IV. DEGREE. _Great Grandfather._] Pierre Jean de Saint-Remi de Valois, +styled High and Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord of Fontette, Major of the +regiment of Bachevilliers’ horse, was born September 9, 1649, and +baptized at Fontette, October 12, 1653; married first to Demoiselle Reine +Marguerite de Courtois, and a second time by articles passed on January +18, 1673, at St. Aubin, in the Bishopric of Toul, to Demoiselle Marie +de Mullot, daughter of Messire Paul de Mullot, and of Dame Charlotte de +Chaslus, died before the 14th of March, 1714; and of his second marriage +had a son, who follows: + +V. DEGREE. _Grandfather._] Nicolas Renatus de Saint-Remi de Valois, +styled Knight, Baron de Saint-Remi, and Lord of Luz, was baptized at +Saint Aubin-aux-Auges, in the Bishopric of Toul, the 12th of April, +1678, served the King during ten years, as _garde-du-corps_ to his +majesty, in the Duke de Charost’s company, quitted the service to marry +by articles of the 14th of March, 1714, Demoiselle Marie Elisabeth +de Vienne, daughter of Nicolas François de Vienne, Knight, Lord and +Baron de Fontette, Noez, &c., counsellor to the King, president, +Lieutenant-general in matters both civil and criminal, in the royal +Bailiwick of Bar-sur-Seine, and of Dame Elisabeth de Merille, died at +Fontette, on the 3rd of October, 1759; and of his marriage had two +sons: first, Pierre Nicolas Renatus de Saint-Remi de Fontette, born +at Fontette, June 3, 1716, received in 1744, a Gentleman cadet in the +regiment of Grassin, where it is assured he was killed in an engagement +against the king’s enemies; and second, Jacques, who follows: + +VI. DEGREE. _Father._] Jacques de Saint-Remi de Valois, first called +de Luz, and afterwards de Valois, styled Knight, Baron de Saint-Remi, +was born at Fontette, December 22, 1717, and baptized January 1, 1718. +In his baptismal attestation which contains his name and condition, his +father, thereat present, is called and styled, “Messire Nicolas Renatus +de Saint-Remi de Valois, Baron de Saint-Remi;” and his aunt, who was one +of the sponsors, is therein called “Demoiselle Barbe Thérèse, daughter +of the late Messire Pierre Jean de Saint-Remi de Valois.” Both of them +signed their names to it, Saint-Remi de Valois. He espoused, in the +parish church of St. Martin, at Langres, on the 14th of August, 1755, +Marie Jossel, by whom he already had a son, who follows: and died at the +Hôtel Dieu, in Paris, February 16, 1762, according to the register of +his death, in which he is called and styled, “Jacques de Valois, Knight, +Baron de Saint-Remi.” + +VII. DEGREE. _Procreating._] Jacques de Saint-Remi de Valois, born +February 25, 1755, and baptized the same day in the parochial church of +St. Peter and St. Paul, in the city of Langres; acknowledged and baptized +by his father and mother in the act of their espousals of the 14th of +August, of the same year.[481] + +Jeanne de Saint-Remi de Valois, born at Fontette, July 22, 1756. + +Marianne de Saint-Remi de Valois, born also at Fontette, October 2, 1757. + +We, Antoine Marie d’Hozier de Sérigny, Knight, Judge at Arms of the +Nobility of France, Knight Honorary Grand Cross of the Royal Order of St. +Maurice of Sardinia, do certify unto the King, the truth of the facts +certified in the above Memorial drawn up by us from authentic records. + +In witness thereof we have signed the present certificate, and caused it +to be countersigned by our Secretary, who has put to it the seal of our +arms. + +Done at Paris, on Monday, the 6th day of the month of May, in the year +1776: + + _Signed_ D’HOZIER DE SÉRIGNY: + +By Monsieur the Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France. + + _Signed_ DUPLESIS. + +We, the undersigned Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France, &c., do +certify that this copy of the present Memorial is conformable to the +record preserved in our repository of Nobility; in witness whereof we +have signed it, and caused it to be countersigned by our secretary, who +has affixed to it the seal of our arms. + +Done at Paris, on Thursday, the 13th day of the month of October, in the +year 1785, + + _Signed_ D’HOZIER DE SÉRIGNY: + +By Monsieur the Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France. + + _Signed_ DUPLESIS. + + +ABSTRACT OF THE DECLARATION MADE BY BETTE D’ÉTIENVILLE IN THE NECKLACE +AFFAIR. + +When the examination of the parties accused of being concerned in the +Necklace fraud had terminated, an individual calling himself Bette +d’Étienville, detained for debt in the prison of the Châtelet, wrote to +the Procureur-Général to announce that he had revelations to make in +connection with the affair whereby a new inquiry on the part of this +official became necessary. + +Jean-Charles-Vincent de Bette d’Étienville, bourgeois of Saint-Omer, +living nobly and on his own resources, as he described himself as +doing, was an adventurer of the worst kind; his name was only Bette, +and it was from pure fancy that he had made the fantastic addition of +‘d’Étienville;’ he was not a bourgeois of Saint-Omer, but simply a +surgical _student_ of Lille; neither did he live nobly and on his own +resources, since his father was only a workman, a stone-quarrier, in +fact; and with regard to himself, he had espoused at Lille, against the +wish of his family, an old maid sixty years of age, whose property he +wasted in a very short space of time, when he abandoned her, and repaired +to Paris to solicit the privilege _des almanachs chantants_. Such were +the antecedents of this individual, who made before the examining +magistrates a declaration of which the following is the substance; and +which gave an entirely new interest to the Necklace affair, producing, as +it did, almost a score of declarations in reply, and numerous memorials +drawn up with the view of confuting it. On a very slight substratum of +fact Bette d’Étienville managed to raise a pile of falsehood which served +to complicate for a time in the eyes of the bewildered public the already +sufficiently intricate affair of the Necklace. + +About the 8th of February, 1785, Bette made the acquaintance, at the +café de Valois, of a Sieur Augeard, who called himself the steward of a +Dame de Courville. This Augeard proposed to him to mix himself up with +a marriage; he spoke to him of a lady who had formerly had a child by a +very great lord, and who desired to give a position to her offspring. The +lady wished to marry a gentleman of title. Bette refused at first to have +anything to do with the business, but the steward having promised him +numerous advantages, he eventually consented, and set forth in search of +a husband. He first addressed himself to the Count Xavier de Vinesacq, +captain of infantry, and chevalier of the order of Saint-Louis, to whom +he was in the habit of selling _eau de Cologne_; but this individual, +distrusting the morality of the intermediary, gave an absolute refusal to +the proposition made to him. + +On the Monday in Holy Week of the same year, a certain Baron de Fages, +belonging to the body-guard of the Count de Provence, sought out Bette, +and proposed himself for the marriage in question; he added that he +was a real gentleman, and that his titles to that rank had been left +by him with the Abbé Mulot, Grand Prior of Saint-Victor. D’Étienville +went to the abbé, received from him the titles in question, and gave +them to Augeard, that he might show them to the lady of quality; she was +satisfied with them, and some days afterwards intimated that she accepted +the Baron de Fages for her future husband, and that the union should take +place after Quasimodo (the Sunday after Easter). + +When this epoch had arrived, Augeard told Bette that, owing to various +circumstances, the marriage must be delayed; but as Bette did not appear +to believe what he said, Augeard proposed to take him to the lady, +exacting from him, however, a promise of the most profound secrecy. +Three days before Quasimodo, Augeard conducted him to a house, where he +saw a lady about thirty-four years old, of a fine figure, but inclined +to embonpoint, and having black eyes. This lady confirmed what Augeard +had said, and after having required secrecy from him, confided to him +that the child’s father was, after the princes of the blood, one of the +greatest lords in the kingdom, and that this affair would be the means +of making Bette’s fortune. The next day Bette went again to the lady’s, +accompanied by Augeard, and found there a person, whom he did not know, +who was sometimes called Marsilly, and sometimes Councillor, and who +had directed the affair throughout its entire course. Marsilly made +inquiries of him respecting the Baron de Fages, his conduct, manners, +&c., and then went out. The lady now showed d’Étienville her jewels and +unmounted diamonds, which belonged, she told him, to a _rivière_ of +diamonds which she used formerly to wear, and which had been valued at +432,000 livres (francs). She added that she wished to sell them before +her marriage, but had reasons for not disposing of them in Paris, and +proposed to him to go to Holland with some one she would name, and to +sell them there; from the proceeds of this sale 100,000 livres were to be +given as a bridal present to the Baron de Fages. But Bette, fearful of +arrest for being found in possession of such valuable property, refused, +and communicated all these details to the Baron de Fages, on the part of +Madame Méla de Courville, as the lady styled herself. Bette, who felt +disquieted at the mystery which seemed to overhang these interviews, took +particular notice of the house and street to which Augeard conducted +him, and on going there alone, discovered that the house was Madame de +la Motte’s, and that the Cardinal de Rohan was in the frequent habit of +going there. Feeling at that time persuaded that Madame de la Motte and +the Dame de Courville were one and the same person, and being unaware +that Madame de la Motte was married, he remained quiet; but events soon +undeceived him, since the public prints apprised him of Madame de la +Motte’s arrest at Bar-sur-Aube, on the very day that he was at Arras with +the Dame de Courville. + +The day of Quasimodo having passed, the marriage was fixed for the 10th +or 12th of April. At this period Augeard told Bette that the Cardinal de +Rohan wished to see him. Bette betook himself to the Dame de Courville’s +where he found Marsilly and the Cardinal; the latter attired in a grey +frock-coat, and a round hat with gold tassels. The Cardinal expressed +to him his satisfaction at the zeal he had shown, and assured him that +he would charge himself with his future fortune. After having spoken +to Marsilly and the Dame de Courville in private, he came back to him +and told him that, for reasons of the highest importance, the marriage +could only take place from the 1st to the 15th of July. He charged Bette +to inform the Baron de Fages of this; whereupon a letter was written +immediately, according to Marsilly’s dictation. The Baron de Fages +accepted the delay, and it was agreed that, in order to compensate him, +in case the marriage should not take place, the Dame de Courville should +bind herself to pay him 30,000 livres, in three separate sums: the first +on the 15th of August; the second on the 15th of October; and the third +on the 15th of December. The bond was given to Bette, sealed with the +Dame de Courville’s seal; he, afraid of losing it, gave it to the Abbé +Mulot, who was perfectly willing to take charge of it. It was at this +period that the Dame de Courville told him in confidence that she was a +baroness, and of high birth, and ex-canoness of a chapter in Germany, +where she first became acquainted with the Cardinal, who had seduced her; +that she had afterwards lived with him, and had a child by him; that +she had followed the Grand Almoner to Paris, Strasbourg, into Germany, +to Vienna, and elsewhere; and lastly, that she was the Baroness de +Sollebercg, or Salleberg. The Baroness spoke German, Italian, and French +well. In the month of May, 1785, she made fresh proposals to Bette to +go and sell her diamonds in Holland; but on his refusing, she no longer +insisted. Some time after she told him she had sold a part of them, and +had had the others mounted; she also showed him a snuff-box, with her +portrait surrounded with brilliants, a watch and chain set with diamonds, +a ring, and a solitaire, begging him to speak of them to the Baron de +Fages, for whom they were intended. On the 1st of July, Bette asked +Madame de Courville if she thought the marriage would take place on the +15th; she replied in the affirmative, and added that the Cardinal would +remain in Paris for the purpose. Nevertheless, the 15th went by, and +Madame de Courville, observing Bette’s inquietude, promised to procure +him a new interview with the Cardinal. On the 18th or 20th of July, about +eleven o’clock at night, he met the Cardinal at Madame de Courville’s, +dressed this time in a short violet frock-coat. He told Bette not to +blame him if the marriage did not take place, since it would be entirely +Madame de Courville’s fault. Then this lady assured him that the Cardinal +had promised her 500,000 livres (francs) on her marriage, and that until +the 500,000 livres were counted down, she would proceed no further in +the matter. Bette took care to inform the Baron de Fages of all that +transpired at this interview. + +About this time, Madame de Courville went to pass a few days in the +country, and invited Bette, as well as the Abbé Mulot and the Baron de +Fages, to visit her. The marriage ought to have taken place on the 12th +of August, the day appointed for the payment of the 500,000 livres. +On the 7th, Bette returned from Chantilly, where the Baron de Fages +then was, when he received a note requesting him to go to Madame de +Courville’s. Arrived there, he found her in tears, when she asked him to +return the bond for 30,000 livres signed by her. Bette thereupon withdrew +it from the Abbé Mulot’s possession, and returned it to her. Madame de +Courville immediately tore it up and burnt it, adding, that if she did +not leave Paris she was lost; she begged him to go with her, promising +that her absence should not be long. Overcome by her entreaties, he +agreed. Madame de Courville then sent him to engage a place in the +diligence for Saint-Omer, in the name of Wanin, this being the name he +passed under in her house. She observed to him that it would not be +prudent for them to leave together; that she would travel in her chaise, +and would stop at Arras, where she would await him. Arrived there, she +told him that she was going to leave France, and that, if he was prudent, +he would do the same, because he was mixed up in a grave business, the +Cardinal having been arrested the previous evening and conducted to the +Bastille; she even offered to take him with her to London. Bette then +inquired the causes of the Cardinal’s detention, and learnt from Madame +de Courville that he had bought a Diamond Necklace, and had introduced +into the negotiation for the purchase the name of the Queen, and that his +aim was to procure the 500,000 livres necessary for her marriage portion, +and to put himself in funds, and that the diamonds she had shown him, +and was showing then at that very moment in a box, formed part of the +Necklace in question. + +Bette refused to accompany Madame de Courville to London, for fear lest +this journey might compromise him. He asked her for payment of the 30,000 +livres; she replied that the demand was a just one, and that she would +satisfy it at Saint-Omer, if he did not consent to follow her. But one +time when they had stopped to change horses, he all at once saw Madame +de Courville returning towards Paris, in company of a man clad in a +blue frock-coat. He believed she was arrested, and on his arrival at +Saint-Omer the truth of the Cardinal’s misadventure was confirmed to +him. He, for his part, betook himself to Dunkerque, where he remained +till the 16th of September, 1785. + +The bourgeois of Saint-Omer, living nobly and on his own resources, +having made the aforesaid deposition, estimated it at the price of three +livres, and was re-conducted to the prison of the Châtelet.[482] + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +[1] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot, ancien Ministre,” (Paris, 1866,) vol. i. +p. 7. + +[2] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” (London, 1791,) vol. +i. p. 7. + +[3] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 41. + +[4] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 47. + +[5] See Appendix. + +[6] Roman Catholic ecclesiastics not being permitted to marry, the title +of course could not have been transmitted by descent. + +[7] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 87. + +[8] Now the Messageries in the Rue Notre Dame des Victoires. + +[9] “Never was there a more aristocratic, or, if the _chronique +scandaleuse_ is to be believed, a naughtier nunnery than that of +Longchamp. It was Rabelais’ Abbey of Thélèma, with additions and +emendations, and ‘Fay ce que vouldras’ might have been written over the +conventual gates. The excellent St. Vincent de Paul was in a terrible +way about the ‘goings-on’ among these exceptionally vivacious nuns, and +in a letter to Cardinal Mazarin indignantly denounced the irregularities +which had become habitual in the establishment. The Archbishop of Paris +remonstrated with the naughty nuns; but they snapped their fingers +metaphorically in the archiepiscopal face, and continued their fandangos. +But they were eventually punished for their peccadillos. The pious world +ceased in disgust to make pilgrimages to the tomb of Ste. Isabelle de +Longchamp, and to deposit rich offerings on her shrine. At the beginning +of the eighteenth century the convent had grown comparatively poor, +when, in 1727, a renowned opera singer, Mademoiselle le Maure, having +taken the veil at Longchamp, the happy thought occurred to the abbess of +giving concerts of sacred music on the three last days of Lent. These +concerts were a prodigious success. The Parisian world, fashionable and +frivolous as well as devout, flocked, as fast as their coaches-and-six +could carry them, to hear the Longchamp oratorios; and these concerts +remained in vogue for nearly fifty years. It came at last to the ears of +another Archbishop of Paris, Monsigneur Christophe de Beaumont—a prelate +celebrated for his enmity to theatrical entertainments, and his quarrel +with Jean Jacques Rousseau—that the attractions of the choir at the Abbey +of Longchamp were enhanced by the voices of a number of artistes from +the opera who had _not_ taken the veil. So the church was closed to the +public. There was an end of the cause, but the effect remained. + +“Out of the fashionable pilgrimages grew the world-famous Promenade de +Longchamp, which began in the Champs Élysées, and wound its course right +athwart the Bois de Boulogne to the gates of the Abbey itself. It was +found that the setting-in of the spring fashions might be fitly made +to coincide with the eve of Easter; and every year during three days +in Passion-week there was an incessant cavalcade of princes, nobles, +bankers, _fermiers-généraux_, strangers of distinction, and the ladies +then known as _ruineuses_, to Longchamp. It became not a Ladies’ Mile, +but a Ladies’ League. The equipages of the grandest dames of the Court of +Versailles locked wheels with the chariots of La Duthé and La Guimard; +and the legends whisper that the _ruineuses_ made, as a rule, a much more +splendid appearance than the _grandes dames_ did.”—“Paris Herself Again,” +by George Augustus Sala, vol. ii. p. 253, _et seq._ + +[10] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 9. + +[11] See Extract from the Countess’s Life on page xvi. of the present +volume. + +[12] Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 9. +See also Appendix to the present work for a more minute and technical +description of the famous Necklace. + +[13] “Histoire de la Décadence de la Monarchie Française,” par l’Abbé +Soulavie, vol. iii. p 330. + +[14] “Mémoires Historiques et Politiques du règne de Louis XVI.” par +l’Abbé Soulavie, vol. iii. p. 71. + +[15] Misspelt “Bassange” in all the Mémoires both written and printed, +and in most of the official records of the “Affaire du Collier.” Such, +however, of the latter, as were signed by the individual in question, are +invariably signed “Bassenge.” There is some doubt as to whether Böhmer +and Bassenge were crown jewellers at this period. One or two contemporary +writers who are regarded as authorities say they were; but the writer of +the letters published under the title of “Correspondance Secrète Inédite +sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, la Cour et la Ville,” says (vol. i. +p. 548) that Böhmer was jeweller to Stanislaus, king of Poland, Louis +XV.’s, father-in-law, and also to Madame Dubarry, and that it was owing +to his holding this latter appointment that the order for the Diamond +Necklace was confided to him. The same writer asserts that it was not +until early in the year 1785, shortly after the perpetration of the +Necklace fraud, that Böhmer was appointed, through the instrumentality of +Marie-Antoinette, jeweller to the French crown. Although Böhmer may not +have been officially appointed until this date, it is quite certain he +had been employed by the queen almost from the very moment she ascended +the throne of France. + +[16] Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 8. + +[17] Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 6. + +[18] In the _livre rouge_ of Louis XVI., under the date December, 1776, +there is an entry, in the king’s own hand, “Given to the queen 25,000 +livres, the first payment of a sum of 300,000 livres which I have engaged +to pay with interest to Böhmer in six years.”—See Archives of the +Republic. + +[19] “Correspondance Secrète de la Cour de Louis XVI.” + +[20] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 9. + +[21] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 146, _et +seq._ + +[22] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 10, _et seq._ + +[23] M. Beugnot says Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi was a fat, handsome girl, +extremely fair, and very dull and stupid, with just sufficient instinct +to divine that she was a great lady. + +[24] Acquired it rather by the accident of being born bastard offspring +of a king. + +[25] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 151, _et +seq._ The reader must take this glowing description of the wedding and +what transpired subsequently at Fontette, subject to large allowances for +Madame de la Motte’s habitual exaggeration, to make use of no stronger +term. + +[26] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 16. + +[27] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 11-14. + +[28] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 13. Rétaux de Villette, +one of the countess’s many lovers, and of whom we shall by-and-by have +occasion to speak, professes to have heard the story of the countess’s +numerous _liaisons_ from her own lips. He says that the reprobate +Marquis de Boulainvilliers succeeded in seducing both the countess and +her sister, and that the former was moreover _enceinte_ by the Bishop +of Langres at the time of her marriage with M. de la Motte, which is +the reason why this “worthy prelate,” as the countess styles him, +interested himself in hastening forward the ceremony. This may seem a +startling statement, but those who are aware of the extreme immorality +which pervaded the upper classes of French society at this period, +and especially the clerical section of it, will have no difficulty in +believing it. If such things were done in the green wood, what might we +not look for in the dry?—See “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la +Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de Villette, p. 4, _et seq._, also _post_, p. 35. + +[29] “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 5. Villette was in the same corps as Count de la Motte, and +on duty at Lunéville at the time we are speaking of. + +[30] “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[31] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 17, 19. + +[32] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 18. + +[33] Ibid, vol. i. p. 20. + +[34] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. pp. 189, +191, 204. + +[35] “Mémoire pour Bette d’Étienville.” + +[36] “Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche,” vol. i. p. 127. + +[37] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 21, 22. + +[38] “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 10. + +[39] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 25, 26. + +[40] “Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles,” par J. A. Le Roi. + +[41] “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[42] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 9. + +[43] Ibid., p. 10. + +[44] “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” + +[45] Unpublished Autograph Letter of the Countess de la Motte in the +collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. This letter is endorsed “M. +Lenoir. The concession asked is impossible. Can they obtain other help? +18th May, 1783.” M. Lenoir was lieutenant-general of police at this +period, but—owing, it is said, to the despotic way in which he acted +while occupying this position, coupled with his abject devotion to the +resentments of the great, which induced the Duke de Nivernois to style +him the first slave in the kingdom—he was subsequently rewarded with the +post of president of the administration of finances, and eventually with +the more lucrative one of librarian to the king, a position for which it +may be supposed his antecedents had hardly qualified him. + +[46] “Confrontations du Cardinal avec Madame de la Motte.” + +[47] “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 8, and “Anecdotes du Règne de Louis XVI.” vol. i. p. 367. + +[48] “Confrontations du Cardinal avec Madame de la Motte.” + +[49] See _post_, p. 47. + +[50] “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” + +[51] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 21. + +[52] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 17. + +[53] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 261. + +[54] Déposition de la Comtesse du Barry. + +[55] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 265, _et +seq._ + +[56] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 275. + +[57] Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 11. + +[58] “Mémoires de Mdlle. Bertin,” p. 92. + +[59] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 5, 6. + +[60] “Mémoires de Mdlle. Bertin,” p. 99, _et seq._ Certain French +bibliographers have pronounced these memoirs to be forged. In quoting +from them, however, we are only following in the steps of M. Louis Blanc, +who we presume considers them authentic. From the “Mémoire” forwarded +to the queen by the crown jewellers on August 12, 1785, it would appear +that negotiations for the sale of the Necklace had been opened with the +Court of Spain and not the Court of Portugal, as stated in the Bertin +“Mémoires,” which circumstance certainly goes a good way to impugn the +authenticity of the latter. + +This celebrated milliner, whose name and fame have become historic, +was, it seems, employed by the Spanish court, and went to Madrid in +performance of her duties as milliner to the Spanish crown. When, +preparatory to her return to France, she presented her account to the +Minister of Finance for settlement, that functionary, who had not the +slightest knowledge of the details of her important art, strongly +objected to the amount which she claimed—some 8000_l._ The king, equally +astonished with his minister, proceeded to settle with the indignant +milliner, by giving orders to his _chargé-d’affaires_ in Paris to have +the account taxed. Mdlle. Bertin protested that her account would +not admit of reduction, and said that Spain was very far from being +civilized, since there was all this cavilling about such an essential +matter as articles of feminine attire. Marie-Antoinette, it seems, +interfered in her milliner’s favour, and eventually the account was +settled without abatement.—See “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis +XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” etc. vol. ii. p. 21. + +[61] “Louis XVI.” par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 1, _et seq._ + +[62] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 11; and Déposition de +Grenier. + +[63] Déposition du Père Loth. + +[64] “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” par E. Campardon, p. 44. + +[65] _Vide_ “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot” and Villette’s “Mémoire +Historique.” + +[66] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” pp. 11, 13. + +[67] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 291. + +[68] “L’Histoire de France pendant le XVIIIᵉ siècle,” par C. Lacretelle, +vol. vi. pp. 114, 120. + +[69] “Mémoires du Baron de Besenval,” vol. iii. p. 122. + +[70] His depositions are signed “Desclaux.” + +[71] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 17, +19, 291. + +[72] “Correspondance Inédite de Marie-Antoinette,” par Comte P. Vogt +d’Hunolstein, p. 141. + +[73] “Procès de Marie-Antoinette,” Paris, 1865, pp. 40, 64, 65. + +[74] “Mémoires pour servir à l’Histoire des Événements de la fin du +XVIIIᵉ siècle,” par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 220. + +[75] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 42. + +[76] “Mémoires Historiques et Politiques du règne de Louis XVI.,” par +l’Abbé Soulavie, vol. iii. p. 277, _et seq._ + +[77] “Mémoires pour servir à l’Histoire des Événements de la fin du +XVIIIᵉ siècle,” par l’Abbé Georgel, vol i. p. 269, _et seq._ + +[78] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. i. p. 65. + +[79] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. pp. 229, 591. + +[80] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 294. + +[81] She had informed the cardinal that the queen had deigned to accept +of a white Spanish dog which the cardinal had offered to her through the +princess. Of course Marie-Antoinette had done nothing of the kind. + +[82] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 12, +Appendix. + +[83] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 17, +Appendix. + +[84] A few of these letters are given in the Appendix to the present work. + +[85] “Confrontation du Cardinal avec le Père Loth.” The latter described +the paper on which Villette wrote as being bordered with “_vignettes +bleues_,” and in M. Feuillet de Conches’ unique collection of autographs +of Marie-Antoinette are several notes written by the queen on paper with +coloured borders. + +[86] “Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche,” vol. i. + +[87] “Saverne et ses environs,” par C. G. Klein. + +[88] This refers to the year 1866. What changes the former palace may +have undergone since Saverne has been under German domination I am unable +to say. + +[89] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 24. + +[90] The Rue du Jour is a narrow street close to the “Halles Centrales,” +and at the western end of the church of St. Eustache. It contains at the +present day several _Hôtels meublés_ of a seedy kind, but the “petit +hôtel Lambesc,” where Mdlle. Leguay Designy had her small apartment on +the _premier étage_, no longer exists under its original name. + +[91] The count being, according to Rétaux de Villette, a notorious +gambler, the Palais Royal, where the _salons de jeu_ most abounded, would +naturally have been one of his accustomed haunts. + +[92] More probably towards the end of July. + +[93] “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 8, _et seq._ + +[94] “Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles,” par J. A. Le Roi. + +[95] “Deuxième Mémoire pour le Sieur Bette d’Étienville,” p. 17. + +[96] “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 16. + +[97] “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 16, _et seq._ + +[98] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 52, _et seq._ + +[99] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[100] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i p. 67, _et seq._ + +[101] In the cardinal’s first “Mémoire” he states the sum to have been +sixty thousand livres, but at his examination he fixed it at fifty +thousand. + +[102] “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt, p. 202. + +[103] “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 34. + +[104] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 33, 34. + +[105] “Essais Historiques sur la Ville de Bar-sur-Aube,” etc., par J. F. +G., and “Histoire de Bar-sur-Aube,” par L. Chevalier. + +[106] An evident allusion to the ancient Roman triumphs. + +[107] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 35, _et seq._ + +[108] A pun upon _La Motte_. + +[109] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 41, _et seq._ + +[110] There were twenty-four livres or francs in the louis of those days. + +[111] This letter of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi’s has obtained the honour +of being preserved among the historical autographs in the National +Archives. + +[112] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 45, _et seq._, 259, 260, +262. + +[113] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 92. + +[114] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 75, _et +seq._ + +[115] This and similar allusions to localities connected with our +narrative refer to the year 1866. + +[116] “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[117] Déposition de Bassenge. + +[118] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. pp. 340, +341. + +[119] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 93, _et +seq._, and “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol i. p. 344 +_et seq._ + +[120] Madame Campan states that “_Vu bon.—Marie-Antoinette_” was the form +in which the queen certified the accuracy of an account. + +[121] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 47, +_et seq._ + +[122] See _post_, p. 120. + +[123] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 50. + +[124] “Cagliostro’s Stammbaum” von Wolfgang von Goethe. + +[125] “Louis XVI.,” par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 154. + +[126] “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” + +[127] “Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche,” vol. i. pp. 129, 144. + +[128] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 59. + +[129] See _post_, p. 230. + +[130] It is the corner house looking on to the Boulevard Beaumarchais. + +[131] “Histoire de la Révolution Française,” par Louis Blanc, vol. ii. p. +82. + +[132] “Réponse pour la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 27. + +[133] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 59, _et seq._ + +Cagliostro laid claim to being possessed of the power not only of +transmuting metals and curing all diseases, but of calling up spirits +from the other world. His evocations were certainly not without an +element of art. On one occasion the spirit the company desired to commune +with was that of D’Alembert, and from notes furnished by an eye-witness, +Lady Mantz, the actor Fleury gives the following account of the ceremony +in his _Mémoires_:— + +“The spectators or, as Cagliostro preferred to call them, guests sat +in arm-chairs along the wall on the east side of the apartment. Before +these chairs was drawn an iron chain,” lest some foolish person should +be impelled by curiosity to rush upon destruction. “On the other side +was placed the chair intended for the reception of the apparition. The +Grand Koptha—the name assumed by Cagliostro on such occasions—chose the +unusual hour of 3 a.m. for his evocations. Shortly before that time +a voice was heard to order the removal from the scene of cats, dogs, +horses, birds, and all reptiles, should any be near. Then came a command +that none but free men should remain in the apartment; the servants were +accordingly dismissed. A deep silence followed, and the lights were +suddenly extinguished. The same voice, now assuming a louder and more +authoritative tone, requested the guests to shake the iron chain; they +obeyed, and an indescribable thrill ran through their frames. The clock +at length struck three—slowly, and with a prolonged vibration of the +bell. At each stroke a flash, as sudden and transitory as lightning, +illumined the apartment, and the words ‘Philosophy,’ ‘Nature,’ and +‘Truth’ successively appeared in legible characters above the empty arm +chair. The last word was more brilliant than the others. The lustres were +suddenly relighted, how no one could tell. Stifled cries were heard as +from a man whose mouth was gagged—a noise like that of a man struggling +to break loose from persons detaining him;—and Cagliostro appeared. + +“The Grand Koptha wore a costume to which it would be difficult to find +anything analogous. Flowing drapery set off his figure to advantage, +and the glow of enthusiasm in his face made him look really handsome. +He delivered a short but comprehensive address, commenting on the words +just seen over the chair. Then, turning successively to the four cardinal +points, he uttered some cabalistic words, which returned as if from a +distant echo. The lights having been extinguished, he commanded the +guests again to shake the chain, and as they did so the strange feeling +previously alluded to was renewed. The outline of the arm-chair now +became gradually perceptible in the darkness, as though the lines had +been traced on a black ground with phosphorus. The next moment, and as if +by the same process, a winding sheet could be seen, with two fleshless +hands resting upon the arm of the chair. The winding sheet, slowly +opening, discovered an emaciated form; a short breathing was heard, and +two brilliant piercing eyes were fixed upon the spectators.” + +The illustrious philosopher, the author of the Preface to the +“_Encyclopédie_,” had been called from the dead. He would answer +questions put to him, but Cagliostro alone was privileged to hear him +speak. “And what questions were put to him?” asked Fleury of Lady Mantz. +“He was asked whether he had seen the other world.” “And what did he +say?” “Ah, Monsieur Fleury, it was a terrible reply, especially to one +who, like me, looks forward to a better future. He said, ‘There is no +other world.’” “And did no one reply?” “Reply! who could venture to +reply to the ghost of M. d’Alembert, returned from—ah, whence?” “That is +precisely the thing. You should have said, ‘M. d’Alembert, if there is no +other world, where may you happen to come from now?’” + +[134] According to the official documents relating to the “Affaire du +Collier” the correct name of this individual was Desclaux. + +[135] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 99. + +[136] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 39. All the persons +concerned in the famous nocturnal meeting differed with regard to the +date at which it took place. Madame de la Motte, as we have already +stated, fixes it on the 28th of July. + +[137] Miswritten “Regnier” in the official records. Regnier was another +goldsmith with whom the De la Mottes had considerable dealings, bought +their service of plate of, etc. + +[138] “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” + +[139] “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[140] “Histoire du Bois de Boulogne,” par J. Lobet, p. 141. + +[141] “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[142] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 350, and +“Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[143] Déposition de Bassenge. + +[144] Madame Campan’s memory appears to have been at fault here. + +[145] The reader will have observed that specific mention is not made in +the jewellers’ letter of the Necklace itself, which Marie-Antoinette, +in common with everybody else, had no doubt heard had been sold to the +Sultan. Besides, only some two months previously the queen had purchased +of Böhmer a magnificent pair of diamond earrings at the cost, it was +reported, of 800,000 livres, and why might not this letter in the queen’s +mind have borne reference to these rather than to the Diamond Necklace? +See “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. p. 562. + +[146] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 227. + +[147] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 92. + +[148] See Appendix to the present work, p. 394. + +[149] “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[150] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 80. + +[151] This, if true, was a piece of vain boasting on the cardinal’s part, +for it is quite certain that he received the thirty thousand livres from +Madame de la Motte, who professed to have brought them from the queen. + +[152] “Deuxième Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[153] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii pp. 9, 12, +279. + +[154] It is important that this date should be noted; for the +circumstances which transpired on it, and which are chronicled in the +police records, effectually dispose of the theory advanced by certain +writers—such as M. Alexandre Dumas, in his “Louis XVI.” (vol. iii. p. +194, _et seq._)—who maintain that Marie-Antoinette really purchased +the Necklace, through the instrumentality of the Cardinal de Rohan, +and, after keeping it something like three months, returned it to the +jewellers by the hands of Madame de la Motte, on finding that she was +unable to raise the money to meet the first instalment. While asserting +that Madame de la Motte was really the queen’s confidant, the writers +referred to are forced to admit that she betrayed her trust, and +converted the Necklace to her own use. + +[155] See _ante_, p. 44. + +[156] Déposition de Vidal, and Déposition de Brugnières, inspecteur de +police. Brugnières was the police agent who arrested Mirabeau and Madame +de Monnier in Holland, after their elopement from France. + +[157] “Mémoire pour Bette d’Étienville,” and Déposition de Bette +d’Étienville. See also Appendix, p. 409. + +[158] Déposition de Furet. + +[159] Déposition de Regnier. + +[160] “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” Also _post_, p. 148. + +[161] Déposition de Perregaux, banquier. + +[162] Gray’s shop was No. 13, and the largest in New Bond Street. The +house, which is within two doors of Long’s hotel, must have been quite +a new building at the time the Count de la Motte had dealings with the +crack London jeweller of that day. + +[163] See _ante_, p. 140. + +[164] Which in fact was _not_ a falsehood. See Jefferys’ deposition, +given in the “Pièces Justificatives pour le Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[165] Déposition de McDermott. + +[166] There is evidently some blunder here. This must be the aigrette in +the form of a rose, for which Gray charged £60. See _post_, p. 151. + +[167] See _ante_, p. 147. The Count there says twenty-eight. + +[168] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 194, _et +seq._ + +[169] “Pièces Justificatives pour le Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[170] “Confrontation du Cardinal de Rohan avec le Père Loth.” + +[171] “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[172] Déposition de Perregaux. + +[173] See _ante_, p. 148. + +[174] Déposition de Regnier. + +[175] “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” par E. Campardon. +Paris, 1858, p. 98. + +[176] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 49. + +[177] “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.” + +[178] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 72. + +[179] Déposition de Bassenge. + +[180] See _ante_, p. 135. + +[181] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. +283-4. Madame Campan is the single authority for this reputed interview +between Böhmer and the queen. Other accounts agree in stating that the +queen invariably refused to see the crown jeweller, under the pretence +that his threats of suicide alarmed her. Still, as Madame Campan was so +intimately mixed up with the affair at this particular juncture, she +could hardly be mistaken on so important a point as this interview. If it +really did take place, Böhmer must have kept the cardinal in ignorance of +it, for had he known of it he would hardly have counselled the jeweller +to attempt to throw dust in the eyes of the astute De Breteuil. See the +next page. + +[182] “Memoirs of Marie Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 284. + +[183] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 74. + +[184] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 375, _et +seq._, and “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” + +[185] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 83. Villette evidently +lingered for some time on French soil, for his passport for Italy was not +dated until August 20, two days after the countess’s arrest. + +[186] Déposition de Bassenge. + +[187] Déposition du Père Loth. + +[188] “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 59. + +[189] “Some of the De la Mottes’ fine furniture may still be seen at +Bar-sur-Aube, in the _salon_ of the son of a former postmaster of the +place, who subsequently bought the house itself of the count. To-day, +improvements in the town of Bar-sur-Aube have necessitated the partial +destruction of the De la Motte abode, fragments of which exist in no less +than three separate streets.”—_Letter from the Curé of Bar-sur-Aube to +the author_, 1866. + +[190] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 70, 71. + +[191] “Authentic Adventures of the Countess de la Motte,” p. 119. + +[192] Ibid. p. 120. The author of this work states that he was at +Bar-sur-Aube at this particular period, and saw the count riding about +in the balloon-shaped carriage above mentioned. Balloons, it should be +remembered, were then a recent invention, Montgolfier having made his +first ascent in December, 1783, some twenty months previously. + +[193] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol i. p. 71. + +[194] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 71, _et seq._ + +[195] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 76-77. + +[196] “Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche,” vol i. p. 127. + +[197] See Georgel, who attributed this movement of the cardinal’s to his +firm belief at the time that the queen had really employed Madame de la +Motte as her intermediary in the Necklace affair. + +[198] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 13, +14, 15, 286-7. Madame Campan has extracted the foregoing narrative, +nearly word for word, from a newspaper of the time—the _Journal des +Débats_. See the Abbé Soulavie’s “Mémoires Historiques et Politiques du +règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. vi. p. 81, _et seq._, where the same account +will be found quoted. + +[199] “Mémoires du Baron de Besenval,” vol. iii. p. 127. The baron adds +that he heard the whole of this detail told to the queen, but nothing was +said of the contents of the paper written by the cardinal. + +[200] It is No. 6 in the Rue des Réservoirs. _Vide_ “Histoire Anecdotique +des Rues de Versailles,” par J. A. Le Roi. + +[201] There are other versions of this incident: we have, however, +preferred to follow the Abbé Georgel’s. See “Mémoires pour servir,” +etc., vol. ii. pp. 103-4. Madame Campan says that the cardinal borrowed +the pencil which he used from the sub-lieutenant into whose custody he +was given, and who, when reprimanded for having permitted the cardinal +to write, excused himself by saying that the orders he received did not +forbid his doing so; and that, moreover, being himself in great pecuniary +difficulties, he thought the unaccustomed summons, “In the king’s name, +follow me,” addressed to him by the Baron de Breteuil, concerned him +personally, which for the moment so unnerved him that he hardly knew what +he was doing. See “Madame Campan’s Memoirs,” vol. ii. pp. 15, 16, 284. + +[202] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 79. + +[203] “Essais Historiques sur la ville de Bar-sur-Aube,” par J. G. F. + +[204] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 79, 80. + +[205] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol i. p. 80, _et seq._ + +[206] “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 385. + +[207] “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” + +[208] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 85, 86. + +[209] “Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro contre Maître Chesnon fils et +le Sieur de Launay,” p. 4, _et seq._ In several of the earlier documents +filed in the “Affaire du Collier,” the prefix “Count” has been marked +through with a pen, both where it occurs in the body of the instrument +and also as part of Cagliostro’s signature. After a time, the registrar +or reporter seems to have grown tired of making this excision, and to +have allowed the disputed title to pass unobliterated. + +[210] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. pp. 49, +108. + +[211] M. Feuillet de Conches has, among his curious collection of +autographs relating to the affair of the Diamond Necklace, a series of +reports from the Marquis de Launay to the Baron de Breteuil, which give, +day by day, a list of the persons who visited the cardinal during his +confinement in the Bastille. + +[212] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. pp. 600, 616. + +[213] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 389, _et +seq._ + +[214] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 408. + +[215] Ibid. vol. i. p. 416. + +[216] Autograph letter of Madame de la Motte’s in the National Archives. + +[217] Anonymous autograph letter of Madame de la Motte’s in the +collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[218] M. F. Barrière. + +[219] “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt, pp. 39, +102. + +[220] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol i. + +[221] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. p. 233. + +[222] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. p. 339. + +[223] “Les derniers jours de Trianon,” par M. Capefigue, p. 25. + +[224] See _ante_, p. 50. + +[225] “Weber’s Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” vol. ii. p. 263. + +[226] “Lettres et Documenta Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. iii. p. 318. + +[227] “Souvenirs de la Marquise de Créqui,” par le Comte de Courchamps. + +[228] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc. vol. i. p. 355. + +[229] “Louis XVI.,” par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 167. + +[230] “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt. Most of +the foregoing particulars respecting the queen’s society at the Little +Trianon have been derived from this work. + +[231] “Mémoires Posthumes du Feld-Maréchal Comte de Stedingk,” vol. iii. +pp. 17, 74. + +[232] “Life of the Countess de la Motte,” by herself, vol. i. p. 312, _et +seq._ + +[233] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. i. p. 242. + +[234] “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt, to which +interesting work we are indebted for the larger portion of the present +chapter. + +[235] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. pp. 238, 330. + +[236] Ibid. vol. i. p. 315. + +[237] “Les derniers jours de Trianon,” par M. Capefigue p. 84. + +[238] M. de Lescure, in his “La Vraie Marie-Antoinette,” brings forward +evidence of the existence of a private printing press in the cellars of +the Palais Royal, at which these foul libels were struck off. + +[239] “Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 36, +_note_. + +[240] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, +la Cour et la Ville,” vol. i. p. 587. + +[241] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol, i. pp. 97-8. + +[242] Unpublished autograph letter of Louis XVI. in the collection of M. +Feuillet de Conches. + +[243] “Souvenirs de M. Berryer, doyen des avocats de Paris, de 1774 à +1838,” vol. ii. p. 51. + +[244] Ibid., vol. ii. p. 49. + +[245] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 127. + +[246] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 138, +_et seq._ + +[247] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 143. + +[248] Ibid., vol. ii. p. 145. + +[249] “Correspondance Inédite de Marie-Antoinette,” par Comte P. Vogt +d’Hunolstein, p. 133. It should be mentioned that the majority of the +letters in this collection are considered to be of doubtful authenticity. + +[250] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 426. + +[251] In the French State paper office a minute description is preserved +of the documents, put in on behalf of the prosecution in the “Procès du +Collier.” An epitome of this will be found in the appendix to the present +volume. + +[252] This name occurs as Filliau in the written record of the +proceedings, preserved in the National Archives. + +[253] “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” + +[254] Cagliostro’s wife was known by this designation. + +[255] This was an alias of Rétaux de Villette’s. See _post_, p. 243. + +[256] “Interrogatoire du Sieur de Cagliostro.” + +[257] “Correspondence Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, +la Cour et la Ville,” vol. i. p. 592. + +[258] As an example of Cagliostro’s audacity in this respect, it may +be mentioned that, when first questioned by the lieutenant of police, +who, in allusion to the Necklace affair, inquired if he had nothing to +reproach himself with—he coolly replied, Nothing but the death of Pompey, +and that even with regard to this he acted under the orders of Ptolemy. +The lieutenant of police, not taken in the least aback, quietly observed +they would refrain from going into any matters that occurred under his +predecessors in office. See “Correspondance Secrète Inédite,” etc., vol. +ii. p. 18. + +[259] We have been unable to fathom the meaning of this allusion. All we +have succeeded in discovering about Madame Böhmer is, that she was the +“famous Demoiselle Renaud,” but whence she derived her celebrity we are +left in the dark. + +[260] “Premier Mémoire pour la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 27, _et seq._ + +[261] Autograph Report of the Marquis de Launay, governor of the +Bastille, in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[262] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 19, 20. + +[263] Confrontations du Cardinal de Rohan avec Madame de la Motte. + +[264] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 30. + +[265] Ibid., vol. ii. p. 41. + +[266] Ibid., vol. ii. p. 40. + +[267] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 55. + +[268] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 185. + +[269] Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte avec les témoins. + +[270] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 47. + +[271] Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte avec les témoins. + +[272] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., pp. 75-6. + +[273] Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte et du Cardinal. + +[274] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 235. + +[275] “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 34. + +[276] “Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro,” p. 46. + +[277] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 238. + +[278] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 241. + +[279] “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 50. + +[280] Autograph Letter of the Abbé Georgel, in the collection of M. +Feuillet de Conches. + +[281] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 31. + +[282] “Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 57. + +[283] “Requête pour le Sieur Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette,” p. 5. See +also “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 26. + +[284] “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 60. + +[285] Premier Interrogatoire de Rétaux de Villette. + +[286] If this statement was true it is difficult to conceive how the +cardinal and the jewellers could have been deceived by the signature +affixed to the contract, for there is not the slightest resemblance +between Villette’s bold upright style of penmanship as it appears in the +numerous signatures appended to his depositions, etc., and the cramped, +slanting, handwriting of Marie-Antoinette. Even if the cardinal was +unacquainted with the precise character of the queen’s handwriting at +this epoch, it is most improbable that Böhmer was in a like state of +ignorance. + +[287] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 103. + +[288] Deuxième Interrogatoire de Rétaux de Villette. + +[289] “Mémoire Historique,” etc., par Rétaux de Villette, pp. 65-72. + +[290] Confrontations de Madame de la Motte avec Rétaux de Villette. + +[291] “Sommaire pour la Comtesse de la Motte,” pp. 17, 18. + +[292] See note, p. 164, vol. i. of “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis +XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” par M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[293] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 330. + +[294] Ibid. vol. ii. p. 329, _et seq._ + +[295] “Requête pour le Sieur Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette,” p. 10. + +[296] Confrontations du Cardinal de Rohan avec Madame de la Motte. + +[297] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 97. + +[298] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 85. + +[299] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 31, 71. + +[300] Ibid. vol. i. p. 408. + +[301] Ibid. vol. i. p. 449. + +[302] Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 18, 51, 77; and “Mémoires Justificatifs.” + +[303] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 24, +27, 29. + +[304] “Mémoires Justificatifs,” p. 237. To have tampered with the +records, would have been exceedingly difficult, as the reader will +perceive by referring to the extract from the National Archives, given at +p. 395 _et seq._ of the Appendix to this volume. + +[305] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 90. + +[306] Ibid. vol. ii. p. 109. + +[307] Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 66, 67. + +[308] Arrêt du Parlement. “Collection complète de tous les Mémoires qui +ont paru dans la fameuse Affaire du Collier,” etc., p. 24. + +[309] This refers to its condition in the year 1867. It has since been +renovated. + +[310] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 93, _et +seq._ + +[311] The “Tournelle” was the Chamber that had the judging of criminal +matters. + +[312] “Mémoires de Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 290. + +[313] Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de +Boufflers (Paris 1875), p. 121. + +[314] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. pp. 179, +196. + +[315] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 96. + +[316] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 114. + +[317] “To-day,” writes M. Berryer, in 1837, “when my fancy carries +itself back to fifty years or so ago”—the very date of the Necklace +trial—“towards the Palais de Justice, I recognize neither the same +antique structure, nor the same internal divisions, nor those innumerable +jurisdictions of which it was the seat, nor that inconceivable flood of +persons interested, whose tumultuous waves were agitated every day for +hours together, and more especially from noon until two o’clock. + +“Outside the edifice was a large staircase, crowded with shops piled +one above the other, flanked by the offices of writers, starting from +the angle of the handsome railings, on the side of the Pont-au-Change, +extending to the circle of the old Cour du Mai, and serving as a girdle +to the Sainte-Chapelle, a confused mass of steps and stalls pictured +with such animation in the Lutrin of Boileau. Who does not recollect +the inquiry made by the countryman of an _avocat_, laden with several +bags of briefs, on catching sight of this grotesque staircase, ‘Sir,’ +said he, ‘will you be kind enough to tell me what that building is?’ ‘It +is a mill,’ replied the over-worked _avocat_. ‘Ah! I guessed as much,’ +remarked the countryman, ‘from seeing so many donkeys carrying their +sacks to it.’ + +“Under the immense vaulted galleries, and also surrounding all the +columns of the great hall, were more rows of shops filled with +merchandise of all kinds, which had caused the name _Palais Marchand_ +to be given to this temple of justice. The Parliament alone occupied +seven large halls—the grand chamber, the _tournelle_, the three halls +of inquests, and the halls of requests. The grand chamber, with its +arched roof springing from gilded brackets, was an austere-looking place. +Perched above were two galleries reserved for the accommodation of great +personages, and which I have seen occupied, among others, by the Emperor +Joseph II., the unfortunate Gustavus, king of Sweden, and by the Count +and Countess du Nord, since Emperor and Empress of Russia.”—_Souvenirs de +M. Berryer_, vol. ii. p. 25, _et seq._ + +[318] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 96-9. + +[319] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 115. + +[320] Nothing of the kind is to be found in the records of the countess’s +examinations. + +[321] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 115. + +[322] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 100, +_et seq._ + +[323] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 118. + +[324] “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 410. + +[325] “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 197. + +[326] “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 400. + +[327] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 118. + +[328] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. p. 615. + +[329] “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de +Boufflers” (Paris 1875). + +[330] “Memoirs of Marie Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. +295. In the doubtful Memoirs of the Princess de Lamballe, we find that +Princess asserting she had had in her possession documentary evidence of +the immense sums spent by the Princess de Condé in corrupting the judges +and other persons. More than a million francs were expended, she says, by +the families of Rohan and Condé in this way. See “Mémoires relatifs à la +Famille Royale de France,” etc., vol. i. pp. 306-7. + +[331] “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 412. + +[332] Extract from the Imperial Archives given in M. Campardon’s +“Marie-Antoinette et le procès du Collier,” p. 149. + +[333] “Mémoires du Baron de Besenval,” vol. iii. p. 135. + +[334] “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran,” etc., p. 123. + +[335] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” p. 123. + +[336] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 293. + +[337] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 121. + +[338] “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 412. + +[339] Spite of this express order the document is not to be found among +the other papers relating to the “Affaire du Collier,” preserved in the +National Archives. + +[340] The letters G A L, with which Count de la Motte was sentenced +to be branded, were doubtless intended as an abbreviation of the word +_Galérien_, or galley slave. + +[341] This branding of the Countess with the letter V, was designed to +signify _Voleuse_, or thief. + +[342] “Arrêt du Parlement,” preserved in the National Archives, X² 2576. + +[343] “Mémoires Historiques et Politiques du règne de Louis XVI.,” par +l’Abbé Soulavie, vol. vi. p. 73. + +[344] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 120-1. + +[345] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 63. + +[346] “Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro.” + +[347] “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran,” etc., p. 125. + +[348] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 153, +_et seq._ + +[349] “Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro,” p. 27. + +[350] “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 70. + +[351] “Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro,” p. 27. + +[352] Hon. W. Eden to Mr. Pitt, in “Lord Auckland’s Journals and +Correspondence,” vol. i. p. 132. + +[353] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 293. + +[354] Autograph letter from Marie-Antoinette to the Duchess de Polignac, +in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[355] An inadvertent mistake has been here made by the queen. It was the +cardinal who received the rose. This incidental error of the queen’s +furnishes a convincing proof, if any were needed, that she played no part +in the midnight interview with the cardinal. + +[356] “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 161. + +[357] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 23. + +[358] Ibid., vol. ii. p. 291. + +[359] “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de +Boufflers,” p. 125. + +[360] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 157. + +[361] “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i. p. 126. + +[362] “Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro.” + +[363] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. +139-142. + +[364] “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i p. 132. A +wit of the time observed, in allusion to the countess’s descent from +an illegitimate branch of the Valois, “that she ought not to have been +marked on the left shoulder, as it was on this side that she hung on +to the Bourbons.”—See “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., +Marie-Antoinette,” etc., vol. ii. p. 52. + +[365] “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de +Boufflers,” pp. 142-3. + +[366] “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.” vol. i. p. 415, _et seq._ + +[367] “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 69. + +[368] “Mémoires du Baron de Besenval,” vol. iii. p. 140. + +[369] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 134. + +[370] Autograph letter from the officer of the marshalsea at Boulogne to +the Baron de Breteuil, in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[371] See the Countess’s “Mémoires Justificatifs,” and “Mémoires Inédits +du Comte de la Motte.” + +[372] Report dated September, 1785, in the archives of the French +Police, quoted by Louis Blanc in his “History of the French Revolution.” +Brussels, vol. ii. p. 129. + +[373] “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., pp. 65, 66. + +[374] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” pp. 103, _et +seq._ + +[375] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 33. + +[376] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 393-4. + +[377] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” pp. 152, _et +seq._ + +[378] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 143, +_et seq._ The Salpêtrière at the present day is a refuge for aged and +infirm women, and accommodates no less than 4369 inmates. Madame de la +Motte’s cell is one of the lions of the place shown to visitors. + +[379] “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i. p. 397. + +[380] _Morning Chronicle_ newspaper, December 29, 1786. + +[381] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. +143-197. We suspect the whole of this key business to be fudge. + +[382] “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 171. + +[383] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 205, +212. + +[384] “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i. p. 420. +There are certain discrepancies with respect to the date of the duchess’s +visit. Mr. Storer, writing to the Hon. Mr. Eden, on May 11, 1787, says, +“the Polignacs have arrived; on Tuesday they went to the opera,” etc. +In contradiction to this we have a letter written by Marie-Antoinette, +and dated April 11, exactly a month previous, evidently addressed to the +duchess while she was in England, and inquiring whether she had found +any benefit from the Bath waters. It is possible that a wrong date has +been affixed to the last-mentioned letter subsequently to its having +been written, for Marie-Antoinette left most of her letters undated. See +“Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” vol. i. + +[385] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 157. + +[386] It was commonly believed at the time, that the authorities not only +connived at the countess’s escape, but abetted it. It is said that at the +moment of her departure from the Salpêtrière, the superior jokingly said +to her, “Farewell, Madame, take great care you are not remarked” (meaning +also re-marked with the branding-iron). + +[387] Nogent-sur-Seine in the department of the Aube. + +[388] It will be noticed that the countess makes no mention of how she +obtained the necessary funds to undertake this journey. + +[389] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. +219-230. + +[390] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 43. + +[391] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 230, +_et seq._ + +[392] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 210. + +[393] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 26. + +[394] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself” (see title-page). + +[395] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 155. + +[396] See _ante_, p. 303. + +[397] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. pp. 157, 166. + +[398] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 412. + +[399] See “Julie Philosophe, ou le Bon Patriote,” vol. ii. p. 17. + +[400] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 237. + +[401] “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i. p. 304. + +[402] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” par L. Lacour. + +[403] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 107-8. + +[404] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI. Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 163. + +[405] “La Princesse de Lamballe: Sa Vie—Sa Mort,” p. 246. + +[406] “Mémoires relatifs à la Famille Royale de France,” vol. i. p. 315, +_et seq._ + +[407] Husband and wife here contradict each other point blank. The count +in his posthumous “Mémoires” maintains that the MS. was not surrendered +to Calonne; the countess says it was—in all probability another +falsehood, concocted by her, to induce the public to believe that the MS. +had not been already sold to the French court. + +[408] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte-Valois,” Paris, 1858. This +work, edited by M. Louis Lacour, is stated by him to have been printed +from a duplicate copy of the manuscript Mémoires written by M. de la +Motte in 1825, at the instigation of the French minister of police. +Everything referring to the Necklace affair had been abstracted from +these manuscripts while they were in possession of the authorities. See +_post_, p. 366. + +[409] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol ii. p. 481. + +[410] “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt, p. 293. + +[411] See _ante_, p. 45. + +[412] Autograph letter from Count de la Motte to Louis XVI., in the +collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[413] See the judgment of the first tribunal, _post_, p. 356. + +[414] “Vie de Jeanne de St.-Remi de Valois, Comtesse de la Motte, écrite +par elle-même.” + +[415] Extract from an autograph letter from Count de la Motte to Louis +XVI., in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[416] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” pp. 237-9. + +[417] The work was really printed in London, and, with the exception of +its supplement, before the death of the countess in August, 1792. + +[418] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 194, +_et seq._ + +[419] “Mémoires Secrets pour servir à l’Histoire de la dernière année du +règne de Louis XVI.,” par A. F. Bertrand de Moleville, vol. ii. p. 218, +_et seq._ + +[420] “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 194. + +[421] “Procès de Marie-Antoinette,” p. 117. + +[422] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol i. p. 221. + +[423] “Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 37. + +[424] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” Supplement, vol. +ii. p. 58. The Princess de Lamballe was in England in June 1791, and not +improbably set on foot the negotiations here referred to. + +[425] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” par L. Lacour, p. 190, _et +seq._ + +[426] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. +Supplement, p. 61. + +[427] “Gentleman’s Magazine,” vol. lxi. p. 783. + +[428] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 442. +“Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” p. 322. + +[429] Autograph letter from Madame de Bracque, Abbess of Jarcy, in the +collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[430] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 377. + +[431] “Mémoire Historique,” etc., par Rétaux de Villette, p. 3. + +[432] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI.,” etc., vol. ii. p. +346. + +[433] “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +vol. i. p. 171. + +[434] “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” p. 23. + +[435] “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol, i. p. 6. + +[436] See _post_, p. 363. + +[437] Though it bears the imprint of Venice on the title-page, this +“Mémoire” was possibly a production of the unlicensed Paris press of the +period. + +[438] So stated by Carlyle in the rhapsodical prophecy which he puts into +the mouth of Cagliostro, and which he subsequently says all turned out +“literally true.” See vol. iv. pp. 57, 60, of his Essays. + +[439] “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 165. + +[440] “Mémoires sur les Prisons de Paris sous Robespierre,” vol. ii. p. +88. + +[441] Carlyle’s French Revolution, Leipzig, vol. iii. p. 341. + +[442] “Mémoires sur les Prisons de Paris,” etc., vol. ii. p. 78. + +[443] “Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 58. + +[444] Autograph letters of the Abbess of St. Bénoît to the Baron de +Breteuil, in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches. + +[445] “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” par E. Campardon, p. +156, _note_. + +[446] “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI.,” etc., vol. ii. p. +463. + +[447] Biographie Universelle; art. de Rohan. + +[448] Ibid., art. Cagliostro. + +[449] “Procès de la Reine” (Deux Amis), vol xi. pp. 251, 381. + +[450] “Villate, Causes Secrètes de la Révolution de Thermidor,” p. 179. + +[451] Weber’s “Mémoires concernant Marie-Antoinette,” vol. i. p. 6. + +[452] “Deux Amis,” vol. xi. p. 301. Carlyle’s “French Revolution,” +Leipzig, vol. iii. pp. 244-7. + +[453] “Maria-Theresia und Marie-Antoinette,” von A. Ritter von Arneth, p. +107. + +[454] Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. pp. 30, 31. + +[455] _Moniteur_ for 1792, No. 220. + +[456] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” pp. 254-282. + +[457] “Les Crimes de Marat et des autres égorgeurs, ou, ma Résurrection,” +par P. A. L. Maton de la Varenne, pp. 67-8. + +[458] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” pp. 286-302. + +[459] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” pp. 303-362. + +[460] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” p. 365. + +[461] “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” p. 375. + +[462] “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +vol. i. p. 176. + +[463] “Journal de Paris,” Nov. 12, 1831. + +[464] “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” par E. Campardon, p. +200. + +[465] This refers to the year 1866. + +[466] See _ante_, p. 64. + +[467] See _ante_, p. 61 _et seq._ + +[468] See _ante_, p. 148 for particulars of the stones which the Count +brought back with him to France. + +[469] See _ante_, p. 150. + +[470] Beugnot in his “Mémoires” furnishes us with a description of this +_bonbonnière_, to which, it will be remembered, both the Count and +Countess make allusion. (See _ante_, pp. 153, 223-4.) It would appear, +from what Beugnot says, that it was never in the cardinal’s possession, +though it had been got up to play a part in the fraud which was being +practised upon him. Beugnot insinuates that had the officers of justice +been more expeditious in their movements, they would have found in Madame +de la Motte’s jewel-box this _bonbonnière_, which he tells us he had +admired there a dozen times. “It was,” remarks he, “a black tortoiseshell +box, surrounded by large diamonds, exactly alike, and of the finest +water; the subject on the top of the box was a rising sun which dispersed +the mists on the horizon; you touched a spring, and under this first +subject was found a portrait of the queen, clothed in a simple white robe +(without any other ornament on her head than her hair, raised up in the +fashion of the period, and two earrings falling on her neck one on either +side), and holding a rose in her hand, precisely in the same attitude +and costume as the character played by Mdlle. d’Oliva in the park of +Versailles. They would, moreover, have found in this box two of the +cardinal’s letters, from which they would have seen that the De la Mottes +had made him hope for it, as a token of reconciliation with the queen, +and would have seen, too, that they had given him all the details of this +magnificent jewel.”—Mémoires du Comte Beugnot, vol. i. p. 89. + +Beugnot is apparently wrong in supposing that this _bonbonnière_ escaped +the vigilance of the officers of justice, as among the documents relating +to the “Affaire du Collier,” preserved in the National Archives (X² +2576), is a memorandum without heading, date, or signature, which sets +forth, that “among the effects found at Bar-sur-Aube in the house of +Madame de la Motte, was a box with a portrait of the queen holding a +rose,” which portrait, it goes on to say, the Sieur Malus, treasurer +of finance, pretended he had orders to withdraw, but having been +challenged by the Sieur Guichard, the procureur-général’s substitute, +to produce his orders, he could only bring forward a letter addressed +to him by the contrôleur-général; whereupon the Sieur Guichard notifies +that on the morrow he will render an account of the above facts to the +procureur-général, who there is every reason to believe will bring them +to the notice of his majesty’s keeper of the seals and the Baron de +Breteuil. + +[471] “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 39. + +[472] These references are to the present volume. + +[473] See his “Histoire de la Révolution Française,” vol. ii. + +[474] “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 349. + +[475] No. X² 2576. See also the Appendix to Campardon’s “Marie-Antoinette +et le Procès du Collier,” pp. 271-389. + +[476] See _ante_, p. 179. + +[477] M. de Lescure in “La Princesse de Lamballe, Sa Vie—Sa Mort,” pp. +189-190. + +[478] The King. + +[479] It should be mentioned that with a single exception—a letter of +Madame de la Motte’s, which is given on page 187 _et seq._ of this +work—none of the documents herein referred to are now in existence. They +are believed to have been destroyed during the Revolution. + +[480] “Genealogical History of the House of France,” by Father Anselme, +vol. i. p. 136; “History of France,” by the President Henault, third +edition, in quarto, p. 315. + +[481] In accordance with French law this proceeding rendered him +legitimate. + +[482] “Marie-Antoinette et le procès du Collier,” p. 109, _et seq._ + + +THE END. + + * * * * * + +_In 2 vols., Square 8vo. Handsomely Bound, 25s._ + +Uniform with the Author’s “Paris Herself Again.” + +_AMERICA REVISITED._ + +From the Bay of New York to the Gulf of Mexico, + +AND + +From Lake Michigan to the Pacific. + +BY GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA, + +Author of “Twice Round the Clock,” “Paris Herself Again,” &c. + +ILLUSTRATED WITH UPWARDS OF 200 ENGRAVINGS, + +_Many of them from Sketches by the Author_. + + * * * * * + +By the Author of “The Member for Paris,” “That Artful Vicar,” &c. + +_In 2 vols., Post 8vo, Cloth Gilt, 21s._, + +_SIDE-LIGHTS ON ENGLISH SOCIETY_, + +OR, + +SKETCHES from LIFE, SOCIAL and SATIRICAL. + +BY E. C. GRENVILLE MURRAY. + +ILLUSTRATED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS. + +CONTENTS. + +I. Young Widows. II. Noble Lords. III. Flirts. IV. On Her Britannic +Majesty’s Service. V. Semi-Detached Wives. VI. Our Silvered Youth, or +Noble Old Boys. + +_VIZETELLY & CO., 10 Southampton Street, Strand._ + + * * * * * + +During APRIL 1881 will be published, No. 1 of + +_THE SOCIAL ZOO_, + +SATIRICAL and HUMOROUS SKETCHES of THE HUMAN CARNIVORA. + +COPIOUSLY ILLUSTRATED IN MANY STYLES. + +THE SOCIAL ZOO will be written by George Augustus Sala, Sutherland +Edwards, Grenville Murray, F. C. Burnand, Charles Townley, Dyne Fenton, +&c., and will be issued in Sixpenny Numbers, each comprising a complete +Subject. + +Office—10 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND. + + * * * * * + +Pocket Novels for Home, the Railway Journey, the Country, and the Seaside. + +POPULAR FRENCH NOVELS, + +TRANSLATIONS OF THE BEST EXAMPLES OF RECENT FRENCH FICTION OF AN +UNOBJECTIONABLE CHARACTER. + +ONE SHILLING EACH. + +Novel-readers owe the publishers a deep debt of gratitude for +providing an entirely new and harmless source of literary enjoyment, +a fountain flowing with the milk and honey of culture, sparkling with +wit and humour, having the flavour of real life and the colour of +romance.—_Illustrated London News._ + +ADVERTISEMENT. + +London Managers run eagerly after the plays of modern French Dramatists, +and produce them with much success at our principal Theatres, whereas +London Publishers rarely venture upon issuing Translations of new +French Novels. Yet the latter are equally good with the former, which +indeed they commonly suggest. To test whether English novel readers, +unconversant with the French language, are not as appreciative of +clever works of fiction as English playgoers are of clever dramas and +_operas bouffes_, this series of Translations of some of the very best +and newest French Novels has been undertaken. It may be mentioned that +especial care has been bestowed on the selection, only those works of +an unobjectionable character, and which can be presented to the English +reader in an unabridged form, having been chosen. + +The following list of the earlier volumes of the series comprises several +works which have met with an immense sale in France, and have been +translated into most European languages:— + + FROMONT THE YOUNGER AND RISLER THE ELDER. By A. DAUDET. + + SAMUEL BROHL AND PARTNER. By V. CHERBULIEZ. + + DRAMA OF THE RUE DE LA PAIX. By A. BELOT. + + MAUGARS JUNIOR. By A. THEURIET. + + WAYWARD DOSIA, AND THE GENEROUS DIPLOMATIST. By HENRY GRÉVILLE. + + A NEW LEASE OF LIFE, AND SAVING A DAUGHTER’S DOWRY. By E. ABOUT. + + COLOMBA, AND CARMEN. By P. MÉRIMÉE. + + A WOMAN’S DIARY, AND THE LITTLE COUNTESS. By O. FEUILLET. + + ODETTE’S MARRIAGE. By A. DELPIT. + + THE TOWER OF PERCEMONT. By GEORGE SAND. + + BLUE-EYED META HOLDENIS. By V. CHERBULIEZ. + + THE GODSON OF A MARQUIS. By A. THEURIET. + + ARIADNE, THE YOUNG CANTATRICE. By H. GRÉVILLE. + + THE NOSE OF A NOTARY, and other Stories. By E. ABOUT. + + JACK. By A. DAUDET, author of “FROMONT AND RISLER.” + + DOCTOR CLAUDE. By HECTOR MALOT. + + A DAUGHTER TO MARRY. By HENRY GRÉVILLE. + + REMORSE. By TH. BENTZON. + + JEAN TÊTEROL’S IDEA. By V. CHERBULIEZ. + + GERARD’S CHOICE OF A WIFE. By A. THEURIET. + + _VIZETELLY & CO., 10 Southampton Street, Strand_; + AND AT ALL BOOKSELLERS’ AND RAILWAY BOOKSTALLS. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78855 *** diff --git a/78855-h/78855-h.htm b/78855-h/78855-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8aefb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/78855-h/78855-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,18625 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The story of the diamond necklace | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +a { + text-decoration: none; +} + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +h2.nobreak { + page-break-before: avoid; +} + +hr { + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb { + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + width: 15%; + margin-left: 42.5%; + margin-right: 42.5%; +} + +hr.chap { + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + width: 65%; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; +} + +img.w100 { + width: 100%; +} + +div.chapter { + page-break-before: always; +} + +p { + margin-top: 0.5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +table { + margin: 1em auto 1em auto; + max-width: 40em; + border-collapse: collapse; +} + +th { + padding: 0.25em; + font-weight: normal; + font-size: 90%; +} + +td { + padding-left: 2.25em; + padding-right: 0.25em; + vertical-align: top; + text-indent: -2em; + text-align: justify; +} + +.bl { + border-left: thin solid black; +} + +.tdr { + text-align: right; +} + +.tdpg { + vertical-align: bottom; + text-align: right; +} + +.total { + border-bottom: double; + border-top: thin solid black; +} + +blockquote { + margin: 1.5em 10%; +} + +.center { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.dedication { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + line-height: 1.8; +} + +.ditto { + margin-left: 3em; +} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.footnotes { + margin-top: 1em; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.footnote { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em; +} + +.footnote .label { + position: absolute; + right: 84%; + text-align: right; +} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none; +} + +.gothic { + font-family: 'Old English Text MT', 'Old English', serif; +} + +p.hanging, div.hanging p { + padding-left: 2em; + text-indent: -2em; +} + +.larger { + font-size: 150%; +} + +.mt2 { + margin-top: 2em; +} + +.noindent { + text-indent: 0; +} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + right: 4%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; +} + +.poetry-container { + text-align: center; +} + +.poetry { + display: inline-block; + text-align: left; +} + +.poetry .stanza { + margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; +} + +.poetry .verse { + padding-left: 3em; +} + +.poetry .indent0 { + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poetry .indent2 { + text-indent: -2em; +} + +.poetry .indent20 { + text-indent: 7em; +} + +.right { + text-align: right; +} + +.smaller { + font-size: 80%; +} + +.smcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + font-style: normal; +} + +.allsmcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + font-style: normal; + text-transform: lowercase; +} + +.titlepage { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 3em; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.x-ebookmaker img { + max-width: 100%; + width: auto; + height: auto; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .poetry { + display: block; + margin-left: 1.5em; +} + +.x-ebookmaker blockquote { + margin: 1.5em 5%; +} + +.x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { /* non-illustrated */ + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; +} + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp48 {width: 48%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp48 {width: 100%;} +.illowp52 {width: 52%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp52 {width: 100%;} + </style> + </head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78855 ***</div> + +<main> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">[i]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp48" id="illus1" style="max-width: 40.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus1.jpg" alt="The Countess de la Motte. + From the Portrait after Robinet prefixed to the Life of the Countess de + la Motte by herself. E. Chavanne sc."> + </figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ii">[ii]</span></p> + +<p class="titlepage larger"><span class="smaller">THE STORY OF</span><br> +THE DIAMOND NECKLACE</p> + +<p class="center">TOLD IN DETAIL FOR THE FIRST TIME<br> +BY THE AID OF CONTEMPORARY MEMOIRS, ORIGINAL<br> +LETTERS, AND OFFICIAL AND OTHER DOCUMENTS;</p> + +<p class="titlepage smaller">AND COMPRISING</p> + +<p class="center smaller">A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF THE COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE, PRETENDED CONFIDANT<br> +OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE, WITH PARTICULARS<br> +OF THE CAREERS OF THE OTHER ACTORS IN THIS REMARKABLE DRAMA.</p> + +<p class="titlepage"><span class="smcap">By HENRY VIZETELLY,<br> +<span class="smaller">Author of “Berlin Under the New Empire,” etc.</span></span></p> + +<p class="titlepage smaller">Illustrated with an exact representation of the Diamond Necklace, from a contemporary<br> +drawing, and a portrait of the Countess de la Motte, engraved on steel.</p> + +<p class="titlepage gothic">Third Edition, Revised.</p> + +<p class="titlepage">LONDON:<br> +<span class="smcap"><i>Vizetelly & Co., 10 Southampton Street, Strand</i></span>.<br> +<span class="smaller">1881.</span></p> + +<p class="center smaller">[<i>All rights reserved.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iii">[iii]</span></p> + +<p class="titlepage smaller"><i>S. Cowan & Co., Strathmore Press, Perth.</i></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter" style="max-width: 25em; margin: auto;"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iv">[iv]</span></p> + +<p class="dedication allsmcap">TO A. E. V.<br> +THE LIGHT OF MY HOME, THE HAPPINESS OF MY LIFE,<br> +I DEDICATE,<br> +WITH MUCH AFFECTION,<br> +THIS RECORD OF AN ERRING WOMAN’S CAREER.</p> + +<p class="right allsmcap">H. V.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris, 1867.</span></p> + +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="ADVERTISEMENT">ADVERTISEMENT.</h2> + +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">The Story of the Diamond Necklace</span>,” which met with marked +success at the time of its first appearance—two editions in an +expensive form having speedily become exhausted—has been out +of print for some years. The author was unwilling that it should +be re-issued until it had been subjected to a complete revision, and +this more pressing occupations have obliged him continually to +postpone. Having at length found the necessary leisure, he has +thoroughly revised the work, availing himself of a new study of +the documents preserved in the French National Archives for this +purpose, and incorporating in the present volume such additional +facts relative to his subject as the investigations of recent years +have brought to light. If the work in its new form meets with +anything like the favour which was accorded to the early editions, +the author will feel himself amply rewarded for the extra labour he +has expended in rendering it more complete.</p> + +<p class="mt2 noindent"><span class="smcap">London</span>, <i>October, 1880</i>.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span></p> + +<p>Several critics of the first edition of this work took the author to task for +regarding as genuine the autograph letters of Marie-Antoinette and others, +comprised in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches, and expressed their +surprise at his ignorance of the controversy which had taken place on the +subject of their authenticity, and had resulted, they said, in the almost +universal condemnation of these documents by both French and German +critics. The author was not only fully acquainted with all the details of +the controversy in question, but he had carefully examined the letters +themselves—not their contents merely, but the character of the handwriting, +and had studied its variations at different periods of Marie-Antoinette’s +career; and he had come to the conclusion, in common with the +majority of French writers who are regarded as authorities on matters pertaining +to the history of France during the latter half of the eighteenth +century, that the impugned documents are, with certain exceptions, perfectly +genuine. The above remarks, it should be noted, apply exclusively to the +autograph letters in M. Feuillet de Conches’ collection, and not to the +exceedingly dubious letters published by Comte d’Hunolstein.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="PREFACE_TO_THE_FIRST_EDITION">PREFACE TO +THE FIRST EDITION.</h2> + +</div> + +<p>The great scandal of the Diamond Necklace, which to the clear +vision of Goethe presaged the coming Revolution, and in which the +quick-witted Talleyrand saw the overthrow of the French throne, +possesses an interest akin to that of the French Revolution itself. +The story is one of which the world does not seem to tire, for it has +been told scores upon scores of times, and more or less recently, by +historians, biographers, essayists, memoir-writers, anecdotists, +novelists, and dramatists, and in well-nigh every European language. +In the form in which it appears in the Memorials and +Judicial Examinations of the parties accused of complicity in the +fraud, it has been pronounced “the greatest lie of the eighteenth +century,” and numerous active brains have essayed to unravel its +tangled web of truth and falsehood; nevertheless, there are many +persons who still think that a certain mystery envelops the transaction +which all the research hitherto bestowed upon it has failed +to satisfactorily clear up.</p> + +<p>The writer of the present work has diligently studied all the contemporary +evidence, bearing in the smallest degree on the subject, +which an active search enabled him to discover, and the bulk of +which he has availed himself of in the course of the subjoined +narrative. This includes, for example, unpublished autograph +letters and documents, written either by actual actors in the drama, +or else by persons intimately associated with it, and derived chiefly +from the valuable collection of M. Feuillet de Conches; the official +records of the judicial proceedings to which the affair give rise; +the various memorials put forth on behalf of the accused, and +the memoirs subsequently issued by them, including the exceedingly +scarce Mémoire by Rétaux de Villette, which the +present writer is the first to quote from, and the curious Autobiography +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[ix]</span>written in his old age by Count de la Motte; the +discussions in the Paris Parliament; and the numerous memoirs +penned by persons living at the time, some of which, and these of +the highest importance—such as the interesting Memoirs of Count +Beugnot—having been only recently made public, were not at the +command of previous writers. In addition to the foregoing sources +of information may be mentioned the different biographies, and the +various critical disquisitions of historians and essayists in which the +subject has been so exceedingly fruitful, and of which considerable +use will be found to have been made.</p> + +<p>With such materials at his command, the writer has been able +to tell the story for the first time in all its fulness, and as he believes +more in accordance with the truth, in small matters as well +as great, than any previous narrative of the transaction. He conceives +that he has completely exonerated the French queen from +the slightest suspicion of complicity in the miserable fraud. He +has made a point of supplying missing dates to the more trivial as +well as to all the more important incidents, of vouching every +statement of the smallest consequence, and of giving the very +language of the witnesses to the various facts which they are called +upon to prove. He has, moreover, visited most of the scenes with +which the chief incidents of the story are mixed up, and has +described them with more or less minuteness in the course of his +narrative.</p> + +<p>It is proper to mention, with regard to some few of the authorities +referred to in the following pages, such as Madame Campan’s +and Weber’s “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” Madame de la Motte’s +“Mémoires Justificatifs,” and the “Mémoire pour le Comte de +Cagliostro,” that the French and English versions of these works +have been indiscriminately used, and that the references given, if +they do not apply to the one, will be found to belong to the other +edition of the works in question.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[x]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="AUTHORITIES_REFERRED_TO_IN_THIS_WORK">AUTHORITIES +REFERRED TO IN THIS WORK.</h2> + +</div> + +<div class="hanging"> + +<p>Mémoire des joailliers Böhmer et Bassenge, du 12 Août, 1785. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mémoire pour Louis-René-Édouard de Rohan, cardinal, contre M. le Procureur-Général, +en présence de la dame de la Motte. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Pièces justificatives pour M. le Cardinal de Rohan, déclarations authentiques +selon la forme Anglaise. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Requête au Parlement, les chambres assemblées, par M. le Cardinal de +Rohan. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Réflexions rapides pour M. le Cardinal de Rohan, sur le sommaire de la +dame de la Motte. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mémoire pour la dame Jeanne de Saint-Remy de Valois, épouse du Comte +de la Motte. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Réponse pour la Comtesse de Valois-Lamotte au Mémoire du Comte Cagliostro. +Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Sommaire pour la Comtesse de Valois-Lamotte accusée, contre M. le Procureur-Général, +accusateur, en présence de M. le Cardinal de Rohan et +autres co-accusés. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Mémoires justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte, écrits par elle-même. +London, 1789.</p> + +<p>Ditto, English translation.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mémoire pour la demoiselle le Guay d’Oliva, fille mineure, émancipée d’âge, +accusée, contre M. le Procureur-Général. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Seconde mémoire et pièces justificatives, pour Mademoiselle le Guay d’Oliva. +Paris, 1786.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Requête pour le sieur Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette, ancien gendarme, +accusé, contre M. le Procureur-Général. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro, accusé, contre M. le Procureur-Général, +accusateur, en présence de M. le Cardinal de Rohan, de la +Comtesse de la Motte et autres, co-accusés, Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">[xi]</span></p> + +<p>Requête au Parlement, les chambres assemblées, pour le Comte de Cagliostro, +signifiée à M. le Procureur-Général, le 24 Février, 1786. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro contre Maître Chesnon fils et le Sieur +de Launay. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro. London, 1786.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mémoire pour Jean-Charles-Vincent de Bette d’Étienville, bourgeois de +Saint-Omer en Artois. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Deuxième Mémoire pour le sieur Jean-Charles-Vincent de Bette d’Étienville. +Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Collection complète de tous les Mémoires qui ont paru dans la fameuse +affaire du Collier, avec toutes les pièces secrètes qui y ont rapport et qui +n’ont pas paru. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Compte-rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement relativement à l’affaire de +M. le Cardinal de Rohan. Paris, 1786.</p> + +<p>Jugement rendu par le Parlement de Paris sur l’affaire du Collier de +diamants, avec le détail de ce qui s’est passé aux séances du Parlement +les 30 et 31 Mai, 1786, et les ordres du Roi après le jugement. Paris, +1786.</p> + +<p>Archives de la République. Series X², Nos. 2576, 18576. Series Y, Nos. +11514, 12076, 13125. Procès du Collier.</p> + +<p>Unpublished autograph letters and documents relative to the Diamond +Necklace affair, in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The Life of Jeanne de Saint-Remy de Valois, heretofore Countess de la +Motte, written by herself. 2 vols. London, 1791.</p> + +<p>Authentic adventures of the Countess de la Motte. London, 1787.</p> + +<p>Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte-Valois, publiés d’après le manuscrit +autographe, par L. Lacour. Paris, 1858.</p> + +<p>Mémoire historique des intrigues de la Cour et de ce qui s’est passé entre la +Reine, le Comte d’Artois, le Cardinal de Rohan, Madame de Polignac, +Madame de la Motte, Cagliostro, et MM. de Breteuil et de Vergennes, +par Rétaux de Villette. Venise, 1790.</p> + +<p>Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire des événements de la fin du XVIIIᵉ siècle, +par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. Paris.</p> + +<p>Marie-Antoinette et le procès du Collier d’après la procédure instruite +devant le Parlement de Paris, par E. Campardon, archiviste des archives +de l’Empire. Paris, 1863.</p> + +<p>Mémoires sur la vie privée de Marie-Antoinette, par Madame Campan. +2 vols. London, 1823.</p> + +<p>Ditto, English translation.</p> + +<p>Mémoires concernant Marie-Antoinette, Reine de France, par J. Weber. +2 vols. London, 1805.</p> + +<p>Ditto, English translation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">[xii]</span></p> + +<p>Histoire de Marie-Antoinette, par E. et J. de Goncourt. Paris, 1863.</p> + +<p>La Vraie Marie-Antoinette, par M. de Lescure. Paris, 1863.</p> + +<p>Maria-Theresia und Marie-Antoinette, von A. Ritter von Arneth. Paris +und Wien, 1865.</p> + +<p>Lettres et documents inédits de Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, et Madame +Elisabeth, par M. Feuillet de Conches, 3 vols. Paris, 1864.</p> + +<p>Correspondance inédite de Marie-Antoinette, par le Comte P. Vogt d’Hunolstein. +Paris, 1864.</p> + +<p>Procès de Marie-Antoinette, ci-devant Reine des Français. Paris, 1865.</p> + +<p>Correspondance secrète inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, la cour +et la ville, de 1777 à 1792, publiée d’après les manuscrits de la Bibliothèque +Impériale de Saint-Pétersbourg, par M. de Lescure, 2 vols. Paris, +1866.</p> + +<p>Les derniers jours de Trianon, par M. Capefigue. Paris, 1866.</p> + +<p>Mémoires du Comte Beugnot, ancien ministre, vol. i. Paris, 1866.</p> + +<p>Mémoires de Mademoiselle Bertin. Paris.</p> + +<p>Mémoires de M. le Baron de Besenval, écrits par lui-même, vol. iii. Paris, +1805.</p> + +<p>Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche, vol. i. Paris, 1853.</p> + +<p>Mémoires posthumes du Feld-Maréchal Comte de Stedingk, par le Comte +de Bjornsjerna, vol. iii. Paris, 1844.</p> + +<p>Souvenirs de la Marquise de Créqui, par le Comte de Courchamps. Paris, +1834-5.</p> + +<p>Mémoires relatifs à la Famille Royale de France, pendant la Révolution +accompagnés d’anecdotes inconnues et authentiques sur les princes contemporains +et autres personnages célèbres de cette époque. Publiés +pour la première fois d’après le journal, les lettres, et les entretiens de la +Princesse de Lamballe, par une dame de qualité attaché au service confidentiel +de cette infortunée princesse, vol. i. Paris et Strasbourg, 1826.</p> + +<p>La Princesse de Lamballe, Marie-Thérèse-Louise de Savoie-Carignan: Sa +Vie—Sa Mort; d’après des documents inédits ou peu connus, par M. de +Lescure. Paris, 1864.</p> + +<p>Mémoires secrets pour servir à l’histoire de la dernière année du règne de +Louis XVI., par A. F. Bertrand de Molleville, ministre d’état à cette +époque, vol. ii. Londres et Paris, 1797.</p> + +<p>Mémoires historiques et politiques du règne de Louis XVI., par l’Abbé +Soulavie, vol. vi. Paris, 1801.</p> + +<p>Histoire de la décadence de la monarchie Française, par l’Abbé Soulavie, +vol. iii. Paris, 1803.</p> + +<p>Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI., contenant tout ce qui concerne ce +monarque, sa famille, et la Reine, etc., par M. Nougaret, vol. i. Paris, +1791.</p> + +<p>Correspondance secrète de la cour de Louis XVI. Paris.</p> + +<p>L’Histoire de France pendant le XVIIIᵉ siècle, par C. Lacretelle, vol. vi. +Paris, 1819.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</span></p> + +<p>Louis XVI., par M. Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. Paris, 1851.</p> + +<p>Louis XVI., son administration et ses relations diplomatiques avec l’Europe, +par M. Capefigue, vol. iii. Paris, 1844.</p> + +<p>Correspondance inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de Boufflers, +de 1778 à 1788. Paris, 1875.</p> + +<p>The Journals and Correspondence of William, Lord Auckland, vol. i. +London, 1860-2.</p> + +<p>Souvenirs de M. Berryer, doyen des avocats de Paris, de 1774 à 1833, +vol. ii. Paris, 1839.</p> + +<p>Cagliostro’s Stammbaum, von Wolfgang von Goethe.</p> + +<p>Mémoires sur les prisons de Paris sous Robespierre, vol. ii. Paris.</p> + +<p>Les Crimes de Marat et des autres égorgeurs, ou Ma Résurrection, par P. +A. L. Maton de la Varenne. Paris, 1795.</p> + +<p>Histoire de la Révolution Française, par M. Louis Blanc, vol. ii. Bruxelles.</p> + +<p>The French Revolution, a history; by Thomas Carlyle. 3 vols. (Leipzig +edition), 1851.</p> + +<p>Histoire monarchique et constitutionnelle de la Révolution Française, par +Eugène Labaume, vol. ii. Paris, 1834.</p> + +<p>Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, by Thomas Carlyle, vol. iv. (Art.—Diamond +Necklace). London, 1857.</p> + +<p>Biographie Universelle (Articles—De Rohan and Cagliostro).</p> + +<p>Le Moniteur, No. 220. Paris, 1792.</p> + +<p>Morning Chronicle, Dec. 29, 1786.</p> + +<p>Journal de Paris, Nov. 12, 1831.</p> + +<p>Gentleman’s Magazine, vol. lxi. London, 1791.</p> + +<p>Julie philosophe, ou le bon patriote, vol. ii. London.</p> + +<p>Histoire de Bar-sur-Aube, par L. Chevalier. Bar-sur-Aube, 1851.</p> + +<p>Essais historiques sur la ville de Bar-sur-Aube, publiés d’après un manuscrit +inédit portant la date de 1785, par J. F. G. Troyes, 1838.</p> + +<p>Letter from the Curé of Bar-sur-Aube, July 17, 1866.</p> + +<p>Saverne et ses environs, par C. G. Klein. Strasbourg, 1849.</p> + +<p>Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles, par J. A. Le Roi. Versailles, +1854.</p> + +<p>Histoire du Bois de Boulogne, par J. Lobet. Paris, 1856.</p> + +<p>Paris Herself Again, by G. A. Sala. London, 1879.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</h2> + +</div> + +<nav> + +<table> + <tr> + <td class="tdr smaller">CHAP.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdpg smaller">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td>A SCION OF ROYALTY IN TATTERS—“TAKE PITY ON THE ORPHAN + DESCENDANTS OF HENRY II. KING OF FRANCE”</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#I">1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td>THE SAINT-REMIS OF VALOIS—A TRAMP UP TO THE CAPITAL</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#II">3</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td>MANTUA-MAKER’S APPRENTICE—PENSIONER UNDER THE CROWN—BOARDER + IN A CONVENT</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#III">7</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td>THE DIAMOND NECKLACE ORDERED, BUT NOT SOLD</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#IV">13</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td>AT BAR-SUR-AUBE—COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#V">19</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td>COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE—IN BARRACKS AT LUNÉVILLE—ON A + FIFTH FLOOR IN PARIS—ENSNARES THE GRAND ALMONER</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#VI">30</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td>OSCILLATES BETWEEN PARIS AND VERSAILLES—SENDS OUT + BEGGING LETTERS AND PETITIONS—FAINTS IN MADAME’S SALLE + D’ATTENTE—DESPAIR</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#VII">40</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VIII.</td> + <td>THE DIAMOND NECKLACE AGAIN—STILL NOT SOLD</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#VIII">52</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IX.</td> + <td>SOI-DISANT CONFIDANT OF THE QUEEN—AT VERSAILLES AND + LITTLE TRIANON</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#IX">56</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">X.</td> + <td>HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL, COMMENDATOR, GRAND ALMONER, + PRINCE-BISHOP LOUIS-RENÉ-ÉDOUARD DE ROHAN</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#X">65</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XI.</td> + <td>PRETENDED MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE CARDINAL AND THE QUEEN—A + FORGER ON THE PREMISES—BILLETS-DOUX BORDERED WITH “VIGNETTES + BLEUES”</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XI">72</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XII.</td> + <td>THE COUNTERFEIT QUEEN</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XII">79</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIII.</td> + <td>THE MIDNIGHT INTERVIEW—“YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS”</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XII">85</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIV.</td> + <td>A GOLDEN HARVEST—HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF—BARONESS D’OLIVA + IS GIVEN THE COLD SHOULDER</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XIV">89</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xv">[xv]</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XV.</td> + <td>GRAND DOINGS AT BAR-SUR-AUBE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XV">96</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVI.</td> + <td>THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS SOLD AT LAST</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XVI">105</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVII.</td> + <td>CHARLATAN COUNT CAGLIOSTRO</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XVII">115</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVIII.</td> + <td>THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS DELIVERED</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XVIII">126</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIX.</td> + <td>THE DIAMOND NECKLACE VANISHES!</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XIX">131</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XX.</td> + <td>THE DIAMONDS ARE DISPERSED—COUNT DE LA MOTTE GOES TO + ENGLAND ON BUSINESS</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XX">138</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXI.</td> + <td>THE GATHERING OF THE STORM</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXI">153</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXII.</td> + <td>TWELVE DAYS’ STATE AT BAR-SUR-AUBE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXII">162</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXIII.</td> + <td>LETTRES-DE-CACHET IN THE ŒIL-DE-BŒUF—IN THE RUE + SAINT-CLAUDE—AND AT BAR-SUR-AUBE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXIII">170</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXIV.</td> + <td>A DREARY DAY AND NIGHT’S DRIVE—THE BASTILLE—A “VALOIS” + SERVED OFF PEWTER</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXIV">182</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXV.</td> + <td>EFFECT PRODUCED ON THE PUBLIC MIND BY THESE ARRESTS—THE + ENEMIES OF THE QUEEN</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXV">189</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVI.</td> + <td>LITTLE TRIANON, AND THE QUEEN’S SOCIETY THERE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXVI">195</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVII.</td> + <td>CALUMNIES AGAINST THE QUEEN—HER ANIMOSITY AGAINST THE CARDINAL + DE ROHAN</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXVII">208</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td> + <td>PREPARATIONS FOR THE TRIAL—CAPTURE OF THE COUNTERFEIT QUEEN</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXVIII">213</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXIX.</td> + <td>THE TRIAL: EXAMINATION OF THE ACCUSED</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXIX">220</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXX.</td> + <td>THE TRIAL: THE CONFRONTATIONS OF THE ACCUSED WITH EACH OTHER + AND WITH THE WITNESSES</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXX">233</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXI.</td> + <td>ARREST OF THE FORGER VILLETTE—HIS EXAMINATIONS AND + CONFRONTATIONS</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXI">241</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXII.</td> + <td>THE CONCIERGERIE—BEFORE THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT, GRAND + CHAMBER, AND “TOURNELLE”</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXII">253</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXIII.</td> + <td>DEBATE IN THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT—THE SENTENCES</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXIII">265</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXIV.</td> + <td>THE SENTENCES CARRIED OUT—“WHAT IS RESERVED FOR THE BLOOD OF + THE BOURBONS?”</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXIV">274</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXV.</td> + <td>COUNT DE LA MOTTE’S FLIGHT—COLD STEEL AND POISON</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXV">284</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXVI.</td> + <td>THE SALPÊTRIÈRE—TRUCKLE BED AND PRISON FARE—THE COUNT THREATENS + THE FRENCH COURT</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXVI">290</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXVII.</td> + <td>MYSTERIOUS HINTS GIVEN TO THE COUNTESS TO EFFECT HER ESCAPE—SHE + RESOLVES ON ATTEMPTING IT</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXVII">298</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXVIII.</td> + <td>THE COUNTESS’S ESCAPE—A LAST VISIT TO THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF + BAR-SUR-AUBE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXVIII">305</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvi">[xvi]</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXIX.</td> + <td>IN LONDON—THE COUNTESS GIVES UP FORGERY AND TAKES TO CALUMNY</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XXXIX">314</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XL.</td> + <td>THE COUNT HAWKS THE LIBELS ABROAD—IS IMPRISONED IN LA FORCE AND + THE CONCIERGERIE—THE LAST OF THE DE LA MOTTE LIBELS</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XL">324</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLI.</td> + <td>RETRIBUTION—THE CRIMINAL AND HER ACCOMPLICES</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XLI">336</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLII.</td> + <td>DUPE AND VICTIM</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XLII">348</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLIII.</td> + <td>“NESTOR DE LA MOTTE”—ILL GOTTEN GAIN NEVER PROSPERS—GREEN OLD AGE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XLIII">356</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLIV.</td> + <td>THE CROWN-JEWELLERS—THE END OF THE NECKLACE CASE—HISTORY AGAIN + REPEATS ITSELF</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XLIV">368</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLV.</td> + <td>SUMMING UP OF THE EVIDENCE AGAINST MARIE-ANTOINETTE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#XLV">372</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">APPENDIX.</td> + <td>DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#APPENDIX">387</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"></td> + <td>SELECTION FROM THE LETTERS PRETENDED TO HAVE PASSED BETWEEN THE + QUEEN AND THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#LETTERS">390</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"></td> + <td>EPITOME OF THE FIRST PROCÈS-VERBAL DESCRIPTIVE OF THE DOCUMENTS + TENDING TO ESTABLISH CRIMINALITY</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#PROCES-VERBAL">395</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"></td> + <td>SOME SATIRICAL VERSES TO WHICH THE NECKLACE AFFAIR GAVE RISE</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#SATIRICAL_VERSES">402</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"></td> + <td>MEMORIAL CONCERNING THE HOUSE OF SAINT-REMI DE VALOIS</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#MEMORIAL">405</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"></td> + <td>ABSTRACT OF THE DECLARATION MADE BY BETTE D’ÉTIENVILLE IN + THE NECKLACE AFFAIR</td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#DECLARATION">409</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +</nav> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvii">[xvii]</span></p> + +<p class="mt2">“Though the descendant of a king, I have been a beggar, a servant, a +mantua-maker’s apprentice, and the favourite of royalty.... The +names of a great queen and of a prince-cardinal unhappily united with mine +have spread a blaze around it to attract general notice; and as if I was +doomed to be the victim of painful splendour, the ingenuity of my enemies +have found means to forge the chains of my dishonour out of a Diamond +Necklace.”—“Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 267, +and p. 6 of Preface.</p> + +<p class="mt2">“Faites attention à ce misérable Collier, je ne serais nullement surpris +qu’il renversât le trône.”—<i>Talleyrand to Chamfort.</i> “Histoire Monarchique +et Constitutionnelle de la Révolution Française,” par E. Labaume, vol. ii. +p. 139.</p> + +<p class="mt2">“I would caution them to despise those who, hacknied in systematic +scandal, feast upon the bleeding reputations of their sisters mangled and +torn by calumny; let them demand of those who convey such vile insinuations +some proof of the circumstances which they relate; let them sift +them thoroughly to the bottom; <i>let them inquire the character of the tale-bearer; +let them ask how, where, and when, and whether she knows the woman +whom she has so eagerly attempted to disgrace</i>.”—“Life of the Countess de la +Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 410.</p> + +<p class="mt2">“Do not the critics teach us: ‘In whatsoever thing thou hast thyself +felt interest, in that or in nothing hope to inspire others with interest.’ In +partial obedience to all which and to many other principles shall the following +small Romance of the Diamond Necklace begin to come together. A +small Romance let the reader again and again assure himself, which is no +brain-web of mine, or of any other foolish man’s, but a fraction of the mystic +‘spirit-woven web’ from the ‘Loom of Time.’ It is an actual Transaction +that happened in this Earth of ours. Wherewith our whole business is +to paint it truly.”—“Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. +iv. p. 5.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span></p> + +<h1><span class="smaller">THE STORY OF</span><br> +THE DIAMOND NECKLACE.</h1> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="I">I.<br> +<span class="smcap">1764.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">A SCION OF ROYALTY IN TATTERS.—“TAKE PITY ON THE ORPHAN +DESCENDANTS OF HENRY II., KING OF FRANCE.”</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Rather more than a century ago, in the year 1764, just as death +had closed the career of the once all-powerful Madame de Pompadour, +who had long since exhausted all her arts in vain endeavours +to revive the jaded passions of her royal lover, and when the star +of the notorious Dubarry was gaining the ascendant, the Marquis +and Marchioness de Boulainvilliers, attended by servants and outriders +in the gayest of liveries, were driving one day in a carriage and +four from their hôtel at Paris to the château of Passy, of which +pleasant river-side village the marquis was <i>seigneur</i>. All at once +their attention was attracted to a little girl about eight years of +age, clad in the beggar’s accustomed livery—rags and tatters, +who, carrying a younger sister on her back, ran beside the carriage, +at that moment proceeding up the hill at a slow pace, and appealed +for charity after the following strange fashion:—“Kind lady and +gentleman, pray take pity on two poor orphans descended from +Henry the Second of Valois, King of France.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span></p> + +<p>The marchioness, struck by the singularity of this appeal, stopped +the carriage and commenced questioning the child, much to the +annoyance of her parsimonious husband, who petulantly remarked +she ought to know well enough that it was a common trick of +poverty to forge lies to excite compassion. The marchioness, however, +persisted in her inquiries, and ascertained from the child +whereabouts she lived, then, after promising to see into the truth +of her statement and telling a servant to give her a few pieces +of silver, the lady, greatly to the satisfaction of her impatient +husband, gave directions for the carriage to proceed.</p> + +<p>The next day, in accordance with her promise, the marchioness +despatched a trusty servant to the place where the children lodged, +at the adjacent village of Chaillot, facing the river between Passy +and the then fashionable Cours la Reine, where the commonality—in +other words, those who wore “frieze, woollen stockings and +cloth hoods”—were forbidden to show themselves. At Chaillot +the people of the house, and the neighbours generally, confirmed, +so far as they were able, the truth of the little beggar girl’s story, +which, as this partakes largely of the romantic, and exercised +moreover an important influence on our heroine’s subsequent remarkable +career, we propose recounting here in all the necessary +detail.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="II">II.<br> +<span class="smcap">1717–1764.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE SAINT-REMIS OF VALOIS.—A TRAMP UP TO THE CAPITAL.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>For a couple of centuries there had resided at Bar-sur-Aube, in +the Champagne, certain Barons de Saint-Remi, the first of whom +was Henri de Saint-Remi, an illegitimate son of Henri II. of +Valois, King of France, lover of the beautiful Diana of Poitiers; +the same who had the ill luck to be accidentally killed at a tilting-match +by a lance thrust in his right eye from the captain of his +Scottish guards, the Count de Montgomerie, ancestor of our Earls +of Eglinton. This son of his, Henri de Saint-Remi, was, in heralds’ +language, “High and Puissant Lord and Knight, Baron and +Seigneur of the Manors of the Chatellier, Fontette, Noez and +Beauvoir, Knight of the King’s Order, Gentleman of the Bedchamber +in ordinary, Colonel of a regiment of horse and a regiment +of foot, and Governor of Château-Villain.” In the course of a few +generations, however, the Saint-Remis appear to have fallen from +their high estate, and their broad manors to have become entirely +alienated from them, inasmuch as we find that Nicolas de Saint-Remi, +the great-grandson of the Henri before mentioned, instead +of being styled “High and Puissant Lord and Knight,” and +Seigneur of various extensive domains, and the holder of numerous +offices about the person of the sovereign, was merely one of the +king’s body-guard in the Duke de Charost’s company. He married +the daughter of Nicolas-François de Vienne, a great man in the +royal bailiwick of Bar-sur-Aube, who seems at this period to have +been the possessor of two of the Saint-Remi manors, namely, Noez +and Fontette. The children that sprung from this marriage were +two sons, the elder of whom was slain in battle, while the younger, +Jacques de Saint-Remi, was father of the little beggar girl whom +we found running beside the Boulainvilliers’ carriage asking alms.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span></p> + +<p>Jacques de Saint-Remi de Valois, in spite of his illustrious descent, +seems to have gradually sunk to the level of the peasant +class, and the indigence to which he found himself reduced was +aggravated by his imprudently marrying a young girl with a +pretty face, but of vulgar manners and somewhat loose morals, the +daughter of his <i>concierge</i> at the time he had a house to shelter +him. The offspring of this union was a son and two daughters, born +respectively in the years 1755, 6, and 7, but small as his family was, +Jacques de Saint-Remi seems to have been unable to support it. +One who knew him well describes the last of the barons of Saint-Remi +as a man of athletic build, who lived partly by poaching and +by depredations in the adjoining forest, partly by plundering his +neighbours’ fields, and partly on the charity of the benevolent.⁠<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> +The vast estates which formerly belonged to the now impoverished +family had gradually dwindled away, some having been sold to +meet the demands arising from the extravagance of successive +owners, while others had passed into the hands of lawyers and +money-lenders. At this period there nevertheless remained three +domains of considerable extent, deeply encumbered, it is true, with +debts, but still open to some real or fancied claim, which, although +the beggared heir of the house of Valois had no means of enforcing +it, was nevertheless the reverie and abstraction of his life. A few +sheets of musty parchment, the surviving title-deeds of his house, +the last wreck, so to speak, of the vast landed property of the +Saint-Remis of Valois, were kept by him carefully stowed away +under the straw thatch of his miserable hut. To pore at times +over these old parchments was the one act of worldly vanity in +which Jacques de Saint-Remi permitted himself to indulge, but the +woman he had married was not so easily satisfied. The continual +display of these mysterious documents kindled her ambition, until +at length it was raised to such a pitch, that she prevailed on her +husband to set out for Paris, there to endeavour to make interest +among the great for the restoration of those rights to which as +heir of the house of Valois she conceived him to be entitled.</p> + +<p>After disposing of such few movables as they possessed, the +wretched family set forth and literally tramped up to the capital, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span>a distance of nearly a hundred and fifty miles. That they might +not be burthened on the way by their youngest child, then about +three years old, the unnatural parents left it behind them, exposed +on a window-sill of the house of one Durand, “a wealthy and +avaricious farmer,” to quote the eldest sister’s own words, “who, +being in possession of a great part of my father’s estate, and having +stood sponsor to this unfortunate infant, was therefore deemed the +most proper person to be her future protector.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>On their arrival in Paris, in a state of extreme destitution, the +Saint-Remi family shifted their place of residence from one suburb +to another until they eventually settled down at Boulogne, then +merely a small village on the banks of the Seine, opposite to St. +Cloud. Here they lived upon such charity as the gentry of the +neighbourhood, attracted by the singularity of their story, from +time to time bestowed upon them. The father at this period had +fallen into a stage of dotage, and the mother’s pet idea of an appeal +in high quarters for the restoration of the family estates had to be +sacrificed to the powerful struggle which they were forced to make +for their daily bread. Months thus passed away, until one day +Jacques de Saint-Remi, for some cause or other—most likely an +unpaid baker’s bill—was arrested by an officer of the marshalsea +(mounted police) of Boulogne, and locked up in a loathsome cell, +where he remained for six weeks. Here the poor man contracted +a serious illness, and on his release, which was brought about by +the intervention of the <i>curé</i> of the parish, the only retreat which +the efforts of his neighbours, for friends he had none, were enabled +to provide for him—a descendant of the blood-royal of France—was +a pallet in one of the wards of the Hôtel Dieu. Here he died, +a couple of days afterwards, on the 16th February, 1762.</p> + +<p>Within a few days of the death of Jacques de Saint-Remi his +wife gave birth to another daughter, and as soon as she was recovered +from her confinement, the family removed to Versailles, +where the mother made a practice of sending the children into the +streets to beg. Jeanne, the eldest daughter, and the heroine of +our story, appears to have been treated with great harshness by +her mother; for unless the child brought home ten <i>sous</i> on ordinary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>days, and double that amount on Sundays and fête days, as +the fruits of her mendicity, she was subjected, she tells us, to the +cruellest punishment. The mother had at this time formed a disreputable +connection with a disbanded common soldier—one Jean-Baptiste +Raymond, a native of Sardinia—with whom mendicancy +was a positive passion; for, in disregard of the authorities, he +made it his daily practice to beg in the most public places of +Paris, having with him the young Jacques de Saint-Remi, and the +family documents, which he boldly exhibited to the passers-by in +support of a pretended claim which he himself set up to the +honours of the house of Valois. Jean-Baptiste was arrested by the +police time after time, for plying his nefarious trade with such +marked audacity, and sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. +He was, however, incorrigible, and the authorities at last determined +upon getting rid of him. After sending him to prison for a +further term of fifteen days, they ordered him to be exposed for +four-and-twenty hours in the Place de Louis Quinze—subsequently +the Place de la Révolution, where for two years the guillotine did +its bloody work, and now the handsome Place de la Concorde—with +an inscription setting forth the nature of his imposture, and +copies of the titles he had falsely assumed hung round his neck. +This public exhibition at an end, Jean-Baptiste Raymond was +banished for five years from the capital.</p> + +<p>When the day arrived for his departure, the unnatural mother +of the young Saint-Remis set out with her paramour, leaving behind +her three children, whom she promised to rejoin in eight days +at the very outside, to shift for themselves. Five weeks, however, +elapsed without any tidings of her, and it was at this particular +moment that the poor children, deserted by their only remaining +protector, and reduced almost to a state of starvation, had the +good fortune to attract the notice of the kind-hearted Marchioness +de Boulainvilliers.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="III">III.<br> +<span class="smcap">1764–1779.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">MANTUA-MAKER’S APPRENTICE.—PENSIONER UNDER THE CROWN.—BOARDER +IN A CONVENT.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The Boulainvilliers’ lacquey, satisfied with the inquiries he had +made, directed the children to take leave of those kind neighbours +who had so constantly befriended them, and afterwards to come on +to Passy, where they were to inquire for the château, which stood, +by-the-way, on the precise spot where the pleasant “Hameau de +Boulainvilliers” now stands. But few preparations being necessary +for their departure, they were soon on their road, and reached the +château in the course of the afternoon. Their arrival being +announced, they were conducted “into a grand hall, in the centre +of which rose a magnificent staircase richly ornamented with gold, +where a large company of ladies and gentlemen were waiting to +view them.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> The marchioness descending to the middle of the +staircase, asked young Jeanne whether she remembered her +again, an inquiry which it is almost needless to say the child +promptly answered in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>The company having gratified their curiosity at a distance, for +no one dared venture into too close proximity with these wretched +outcasts, covered as they were with rags and dirt, the marchioness +gave orders for them to be cleansed, and for other clothes to be +supplied them. A good scrubbing having brought to light indications +of various diseases, the usual concomitants of poverty, steps +were taken for their speedy eradication; and in the course of a few +weeks, thanks to the attention the children received, and to the +generous food provided them, all traces of their former wretched +condition were effaced.</p> + +<p>The marchioness’s next care was the education of the young +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>orphans, and Jeanne and her sister were sent to a boarding-school +in the neighbourhood, where they made rapid progress. In less +than two years, however, the youngest girl died of the small-pox, +at that time a disease not only very prevalent, but commonly +fatal. Jeanne remained at school for several years longer; but +during the latter period of her stay, her governess, she tells us, +unknown to the marchioness (whom the young Saint-Remi saw but +rarely), compelled her to perform the common offices of a domestic +servant. “This employment,” she observes, “against which it +was useless to remonstrate, was but ill adapted to those elevated +notions which reflections on my birth had inspired me with. Was +it not,” she asks, “painful to feel that, descended as I was from +the first family in France, I was yet reduced to be a servant to +people of the very lowest rank, nay, even to servants themselves?”⁠<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>At length, at her own request, Jeanne was removed from school, +but the marquis, who was half a Jew—his mother being a daughter +of Samuel Bernard, the rich Hebrew banker, whom even the +“Grand Monarque” would condescend to take by the arm when he +was hard up and wanted to coax a loan out of him, and whom the +court ladies used to cheat at the queen’s card-table—objected to +her continuing a pensioner on the Boulainvilliers’ establishment. +With the view therefore of placing her in a position to provide for +herself, Jeanne was articled to a Parisian mantua-maker for a term +of three years. Ill-health, however, compelled her to leave before +completing the engagement, and she filled one situation after +another, subject to constant attacks of illness, until at length a +change in the fortunes of the family made it no longer necessary +for her to labour for her daily bread.</p> + +<p>The young Jacques de Saint-Remi had received his education +under the care of M. Leclerc, the husband of his sister Jeanne’s +governess, and on its completion had been sent to sea. About this +time he returned home from his first voyage, and the marchioness, +having got together various documents in support of the claim of +the family to the honours of the house of Valois, consulted with +the Marquis de Chabert (the admiral under whom the young +Saint-Remi had recently served, and who had interested himself a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>good deal in the young sailor’s history) as to the best course to be +adopted to get this claim recognised at court. The marquis at +once caused a genealogical tree of the family to be drawn up, which +he transmitted with the necessary confirmatory documents to his +cousin, M. d’Hozier de Sérigny, grand genealogist and judge-at-arms +of the nobility of France, that the same might receive the sanction +of his authority.⁠<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>When this was returned to M. de Chabert, accompanied by a +certificate of M. d’Hozier’s attesting its accuracy, the marquis forwarded +the various documents to the proper quarter, and in due +course obtained the appointment of a day for the reception of young +Saint-Remi by Louis XVI., who had only recently ascended the +throne. The youth was introduced to the king as the Baron de +Valois by the Marquis de Boulainvilliers, the Marquis de Chabert, +the Count de Maurepas, and M. Necker. The king was pleased to +recognise the title which the friends of the young Jacques de Saint-Remi +had persuaded him to assume, but desirous, it was believed, +that this should become extinct in the person of its present +possessor, recommended the newly-acknowledged Baron de Valois +to devote himself to the service of the church.⁠<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Jacques respectfully +ventured to suggest that his predilections were in favour of +the army or the navy. The king thanked the young Saint-Remi +for his inclination to serve him, but recommended him again, still +more strongly, to dedicate his days to the service of his Maker. +“Sire,” replied the young man, with a sprinkling of blasphemy +which only a Frenchman would have ventured on, “I am serving +God when I am serving my king.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The members of the Saint-Remi family had now their several +titles awarded them. Jacques, as we have already seen, was +henceforth to be styled Baron de Valois; his sister Jeanne was to +be known as Mademoiselle de Valois; and Marianne, the poor child +who had been left exposed outside Farmer Durand’s window-sill, +and who was now sent for to Paris, was for the future to be called +Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi. But as “fine words butter no +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>parsneps,” so empty honours will not suffice to keep the pot +boiling. It was therefore imperative that the necessary steps +should be taken to procure some sort of provision for these +destitute off-shoots of the blood-royal of France. It is true the +national finances were in a most lamentable condition, still everybody +agreed that something must be done, which something finally +resolved itself into a pension to each member of the family of +Valois of eight hundred livres (francs) equivalent to thirty-two +pounds sterling per annum, commencing from December, 1775. +In addition to this, through the intervention of M. Necker, the +young Baron de Valois had a commission in the navy given him, +with a grant of four thousand livres for his outfit, and shortly +afterwards received orders to join his ship at Brest.</p> + +<p>We have already mentioned that Jeanne, or, as we must now +style her, Mademoiselle de Valois, during the period she was toiling +as a mantua-maker’s apprentice, was subject to frequent attacks +of illness. On these occasions it seems an apartment was set apart +for her at the Hôtel de Boulainvilliers⁠<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> where every care was bestowed +upon her until she was completely restored to health. +During the period of her convalescence she was constantly persecuted +by the marquis with attentions the object of which it was +impossible to mistake. These advances, moreover, were subsequently +renewed on every occasion that presented itself; in fact, +whenever mademoiselle found herself under the Boulainvilliers’ +roof; and if we can credit her own statement, more than one daring +assault was made by the old reprobate upon her virtue. To +rid herself of the marquis’s importunities she was forced, she tells +us, to complain to his wife, who decided upon taking the necessary +steps to remove mademoiselle beyond the sphere of her husband’s +dangerous influence. She and her sister Marianne were accordingly +sent as boarders to the Abbey of Yères, in the neighbourhood +of Montgeron, some dozen miles or so from Paris, on the road +to Lyons. Here she asserts that for a time she contemplated taking +the veil, a resolution, however, which, if ever seriously entertained, +was very soon abandoned.</p> + +<p>About this time the Marquis de Boulainvilliers was detected +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>defrauding the excise by means of an extensive secret distillery +which he carried on in some vaults beneath his Paris hôtel. The +discovery of this fraud caused, as might be supposed, considerable +sensation among the <i>haute noblesse</i>, and neither the marquis nor the +marchioness dared show themselves at court, and hardly even in +the vicinity of the capital. They decided, therefore, to retire for a +time to their château at Montgeron, no great distance from the +Abbey of Yères, and, as a matter of course, the sisters Valois were +invited to spend the holidays with them. At the château they +would probably have continued to remain had not the marquis renewed +his system of persecution. It is, however, tolerably certain +that something very like encouragement was given to him by +Mademoiselle de Valois, for the pair were surprised one day in a +somewhat equivocal situation by the Marquis de Brancas and the +Abbé Tacher, and although the lady in her “Memoirs” has the +effrontery to speak of “the blush of conscious innocence which +coloured her cheek” on this occasion, the result was that she was +packed off by the marchioness to the well-known Abbey of Longchamp +near Paris—of course, as she says, at her own earnest entreaty. +Of this once handsome pile of conventual buildings, all +that has survived the fury of the revolutionists of 1793, is a round +ivy-mantled tower and an adjacent windmill, both familiar objects +at the present time in this favourite locality. In the days of St. +Vincent de Paul, the disorders which reigned in the Abbey of Longchamp +were such as to call forth severe animadversions from this +earnest and conscientious priest,⁠<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> and even when the sisters Valois +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>entered it as boarders, the discipline was inclined to be lax; nevertheless +the marquis made so many morning calls that the other +boarders were scandalised at his constant visits, and the abbess was +constrained to give orders that no gentleman should be allowed to +visit Mademoiselle de Valois on any pretence whatever. At this +abbey the sisters remained for about a year, only quitting it, say +they, on the death of the abbess. Other accounts state that they +left the convent surreptitiously early one morning, carrying with +them a very light bundle, and with thirty-six francs jingling in their +pockets, their departure being due to the pertinacity of the abbess +in pressing them to embrace a religious life, a course to which the +young ladies, who were by this time sufficiently partial to worldly +vanities, were by no means inclined.⁠<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> The abbess is supposed to +have received her instructions from high quarters, and it is further +suggested that the object of them was the gradual extinction of +the race of the Valois, together with all their troublesome claims.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="IV">IV.<br> +<span class="smcap">1773–1778.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE DIAMOND NECKLACE: ORDERED, BUT NOT SOLD.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>While our heroine was being initiated into the mysteries of +mantua-making by the most distinguished of Parisian <i>modistes</i>, the +“chains of her dishonour,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> as she styles them, were unknown +to her being forged in the form of a Diamond Necklace, such as +the world never saw before, and the like of which it can hardly +hope to look upon again. Here is a description, penned by a +master-hand, of this regal jewel, this unique gem, long an object of +desire with queens and women, which caused a nine months’ convulsion +of the world of Paris, and the remarkable story connected +with which was for a time the talk of every city in Europe, while +the mystery enveloping it is thought by many to be hardly cleared +up even now. “A row of seventeen glorious diamonds, as large +almost as filberts, encircle, not too tightly, the neck a first time. +Looser, gracefully fastened thrice to these, a three-wreathed festoon +and pendants enough (simple pear-shaped, multiple star-shaped or +clustering amorphous) encircle it, enwreath it a second time. +Loosest of all, softly flowing round from behind in priceless catenary, +rush down two broad threefold rows; seem to knot themselves, +round a very queen of diamonds, on the bosom; then rush on, +again separated, as if there were length in plenty: the very tassels +of them were a fortune for some men. And now, lastly, two other +inexpressible threefold rows, also with their tassels, will, when the +Necklace is on and clasped, unite themselves behind into a doubly +inexpressible sixfold row; and so stream down, together or asunder, +over the hind neck,—we may fancy like lambent zodiacal or +Aurora-Borealis fire.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span></p> + +<p>This matchless jewel had its origin in a freak of Louis XV., the +“Well-Beloved,” as he was endearingly called at the early part of +his reign, whose infatuation in later years for the notorious Countess +Dubarry led him into all kinds of extravagance, and caused him to +dissipate with more than his accustomed recklessness the already +seriously impaired revenues of the State. We learn from the Abbé +Soulavie that, during the last sixteen months of the “Well-Beloved’s” +reign, the sum of two million four hundred and fifty +thousand francs, or nearly one hundred thousand pounds sterling—a +far larger sum in those days, be it remembered, than at the +present time—was paid out of the royal exchequer in hard cash +to this one favourite alone. And to satisfy us that his statement +is accurate, the abbé furnishes us with his authority, and gives the +details of the eight several instalments of which the grand total is +composed.⁠<a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> This, it should be borne in mind, was entirely independent +of all manner of royal grants and gifts of places and +houses and lands, which had been flung, whenever asked for, into +the lap of this frail beauty. Startling as this example of royal +prodigality in the days of the decadence of the French monarchy +may appear, it is nevertheless indisputable that the infatuated +libertine who then controlled the destinies of France, by no means +wanted the will to indulge in still wilder schemes of extravagance. +For instance, on one occasion, whilst visiting with his architect the +costly pavilion of Louveciennes, lately erected for Madame Dubarry, +he expressed his regret that he could not present her with a palace +constructed entirely of gold and precious stones. Unable to +realize this extravagant whim, he resolved to bestow upon his mistress +the most costly set of diamonds which could be collected +throughout Europe. The result was the world-renowned Diamond +Necklace.⁠<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Louis XV. gave the commission to the crown jewellers, Böhmer +and Bassenge⁠<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> who entered heart and soul into the undertaking. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>The execution of so rare an order was of course an affair of time. +Not only had the jewellers to raise funds to enable them to secure the +largest and finest diamonds that were in the market, but they had +to hunt out and employ the most skilful lapidaries to fashion them +to their several shapes. Every important city in Europe, and +others far more remote, were ransacked to collect these matchless +gems. Some of the finest were met with in Germany, others in Spain, +others again in Russia, a few in Brazil, and a very fine one indeed was +picked up in the city of Hamburg. “But,” says Carlyle, “to tell the +various histories of these various diamonds, from the first making +of them, or even omitting all the rest, from the first digging of +them in far Indian mines.... How they served as eyes of +heathen idols, and received worship; how they had then by fortune +of war, or theft, been knocked out, and exchanged among camp-sutlers +for a little spirituous liquor, and bought by Jews; and worn +as signets on the fingers of tawny or white majesties; and again +been lost, with the fingers too, and perhaps life (as by Charles the +Rash among the mud ditches of Nancy), in old forgotten glorious +victories; and so through innumerable varieties of fortune had +come at last to the cutting-wheel of Böhmer, to be united in strange +fellowship with comrades also blown together from all ends of the +earth, each with a history of its own. Could these aged stones—the +youngest of them six thousand years of age and upwards—but +have spoken, there were an experience for philosophy to teach by. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>But now, as was said, by little caps of gold and daintiest rings of +the same, they are all being, so to speak, enlisted under Böhmer’s +flag,—made to take rank and file in new order, no jewel asking his +neighbour whence he came; and parade there for a season. For a +season only, and then to disperse and enlist anew <i>ad infinitum</i>.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>For many of their purchases credit was obtained by the +crown jewellers for a limited period; for others, when they +had exhausted their own capital, they were obliged to have +recourse to their friends. But they were full of confidence, +for two millions of livres (francs)—eighty thousand pounds +sterling—was the sum fixed to be paid by the king for this jewel +beyond price. The work went bravely on at the Böhmer and +Bassenge establishment, “<i>Au Grand Balcon</i>,” Rue Vendôme. The +jewellers, their friends, their working lapidaries, their trustful +creditors, were all in the highest spirits, when suddenly evil tidings +cast dismay into the Böhmer and Bassenge camp. One day comes +the intelligence that the king is ill; three days afterwards the news +arrives that he is in danger; another week brings the report that +he is dead, and the late favourite for whom the rich ornament was +destined banished for ever beyond the precincts of the court.</p> + +<p>Alas! what was to be done now with the magnificent bauble +commissioned by one who, at the time, spite of all his low grovelling +debauchery, was nevertheless a king, but is now only so much +corruption? Böhmer and Bassenge, crown jewellers, find themselves +deeply involved; their creditors become clamorous, for their +bills as they fall due are returned protested. They have nothing +to fall back upon but the Diamond Necklace, which is worth, or at +any rate valued at, two million livres. But where is a purchaser +to be found for it? Böhmer and Bassenge, crown jewellers though +they be, must still pay their debts. Kings, according to a certain +fiction of state, never die—“<i>Le Roi est Mort! Vive le Roi!</i>” +Böhmer and Bassenge, however, learn by sad experience not only +that kings do die, but that creditors, alas, do not.</p> + +<p>What is to be done? Only one course suggests itself. A young +and lovely queen has just ascended the throne. Will it not be +possible to induce her to become the purchaser of this unrivalled +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>specimen of <i>bijouterie</i>? The office of crown jeweller carries with it +the privilege of <i>entrée</i> to the presence of royalty at all times and +seasons; while “other jewellers, and even innumerable gentlemen +and small nobility, languish in the vestibule. With the costliest +ornaments in his pockets, or borne after him by assiduous shop-boys, +the happy Böhmer sees high drawing-rooms and sacred <i>ruelles</i> +fly open as with talismanic <i>sesame</i>, and the brightest eyes of the whole +world grow brighter: to him alone of all men the Unapproachable +reveals herself in mysterious <i>négligée</i>, taking and giving counsel.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It was to Versailles that Böhmer betook himself, carrying with +him the Diamond Necklace in its case of richest velvet, and ere +many hours have elapsed he is displaying its matchless variegated +brilliancy—its “flashes of star-rainbow colours” to the admiring +gaze of the beauteous Marie-Antoinette, then just twenty years of +age, of a gay and lively disposition, verging, some say, on to giddiness, +yet perfectly innocent; fond of pleasure, and, like other fair +young creatures in this world, not indifferent to those personal +ornaments which help to enhance the charms which Nature has +bestowed upon them with so liberal a hand. Still, pleased as she +was with the gem, she nevertheless felt that the times were unpropitious; +or else she scorned, may be, to wear an ornament, +however beautiful, the original destination of which was, to say +the least of it, unfortunate. But be this as it may, one thing is +quite certain, the purchase of the Necklace was declined.</p> + +<p>Thus in a moment, as it were, all those fond hopes with which +the crown jewellers had buoyed themselves up for many months +past were dissipated, and they were again constrained to ask each +other, “what is now to be done?” Poor men, they were not to +blame, for how could they have foreseen that their royal customer, +full of health in November, 1773, when he gave the order, should +be dead of small-pox on the 10th of May following? After several +days spent in deliberation the partners decided that a drawing of +the Necklace should be made and an engraving executed, and that +printed copies of this should be sent to all the courts of Europe, to +see whether a customer could not be obtained for a jewel which, +ransack the entire world through, would be found without its equal.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span></p> + +<p>This scheme, however, clever as it was, proved abortive; for +what kind of idea could the cunningest graver and the most +liquescent of printing inks possibly give of brilliants of the very +finest water? The jewellers next resolved that one of the firm—Bassenge +being the younger and more active was eventually fixed +upon—should devote himself to travelling over Europe, and to +visiting the various courts, where he might personally solicit the +different empresses, queens, princesses, landgravines, margravines, +electresses, infantas, and grand and arch-duchesses, to purchase +this costly jewel, which only a neck flushing with the blood of +royalty was worthy to wear. During this time Böhmer was to remain +in Paris, to avail himself of any opportunity that might offer +for reopening negotiations with Marie-Antoinette. One circumstance, +however, rendered the prospect of success doubtful. The +queen had become indebted to the crown jewellers in the sum of +348,000 livres (francs), for a pair of diamond earrings, of which +amount she had herself only been able to pay some 48,000 livres,⁠<a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> +leaving 300,000 livres still due.</p> + +<p>In this way several years went by. Shortly after the birth of +Madame Royale, the Necklace was again offered to the queen, but +although the reduced price of one million eight hundred thousand +livres was named for it, there was a more serious obstacle than +ever in the way of its purchase. France was at this period engaged +in a war with England on behalf of the American Colonists, and +her navy was in a most crippled condition. No sooner did the +crown jeweller name the subject of the Necklace, than Marie-Antoinette +interrupted him with this queen-like remark, “Monsieur, +we have more need of men-of-war now than of diamonds.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> What +reply could a crown jeweller make to so pertinent an observation +as this? All he could do was to feel affronted, and hastily making +his obeisances, he flung himself into the corner of his carriage, and +set off down the long Avenue de Paris on his return to the Rue +Vendôme in no very amiable mood.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="V">V.<br> +<span class="smcap">1779–1780.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">AT BAR-SUR-AUBE.—COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>While Monsieur Bassenge Calaphibus-like is wandering up and +down Europe trying to dispose of the ill-fated Diamond Necklace, +let us see what our heroine is doing now that she has freed herself +from the restraints of a conventual life in order to launch forth +into the great world with no one to direct, no one to control her. +On leaving the abbey of Longchamp the two sisters decided upon +making their way to Bar-sur-Aube, and embarked on board one of +the Seine barges plying between Paris and Nogent, from which +latter place they proceeded up the river Aube to their destination.⁠<a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> +The youngest sister, it seems, was possessed with a certain longing +to return to the place of her birth. Whether this arose from a +feeling of vanity, a desire to show off before the simple rustics of +Fontette, or whether love was the actuating principle—for she had +left a sweetheart behind her when she was summoned to Paris—is +more than we can tell. Arrived at Bar-sur-Aube, our heroine informs +us that she and her sister at once entered a convent, where +many visitors called upon them, and invited them to a round of +entertainments at which every one present vied with his neighbour +as to who should pay them the greatest amount of attention. She +even asserts that they received invitations from the different noble +families in the neighbourhood, and, in pursuance of these, entered +upon a series of visits varying from a few days to a week in extent. +When these visits were over, we are told that a Madame de Suremont +enticed them to board at her house, where they were “very +elegantly entertained” for four hundred livres (sixteen pounds) +per annum.⁠<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span></p> + +<p>Other accounts, which we believe to be more trustworthy, assert +that the sisters arrived at Bar-sur-Aube with merely a few livres in +their pockets, and a single change of linen beyond the clothes they +had on, and that, instead of entering a convent, they put up at a +miserable little inn called “<i>La Tête Rouge</i>,” where they made +good their footing by their high titles and the claims they set up +to the manors of Essoyes, Fontette, and Verpilière, in the neighbourhood. +The great expectations they announced soon became +generally known in a small country town, and the consequence was +that the good people round about flocked to see them out of +curiosity, and it was then that Madame de Suremont, touched by +their distress, offered the fugitives the use of her house for a few +days until they could manage to provide some other lodging for +themselves.</p> + +<p>On retiring for the night their hostess, a very stout lady, kindly +lent them two of her own dresses to wear, observing, however, that +she was afraid they would be too large to fit them. What was +Madame de Suremont’s astonishment to see her young guests enter +the sitting-room the following morning with the dresses, which +they had spent the night in cutting and adapting to their own +slim figures, fitting them to perfection! Instead, too, of stopping +merely a week at this hospitable house, according to the terms of +their invitation, the Demoiselles de Valois managed to remain in +it for twelve months, flirting with all the young fellows who visited +there, and exhibiting more levity and freedom than was becoming +to their sex.⁠<a id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> The ladies, naturally enough, all shrank aghast +from this bold behaviour, but the gentlemen were more or less +amused at it.</p> + +<p>In due course several of these young fellows became smitten +with our heroine, and amongst those who contested for the honour +of her smiles were two who stood out in advance of the rest. One +was M. Beugnot, the writer of the Memoirs we have been quoting, +and son of a well-to-do citizen of Bar-sur-Aube. The latter, however, +was so alarmed at the mere idea of having Mademoiselle de Valois +for a daughter-in-law that he packed off his son to Paris to study +law, politics, and human nature, which he did to such good purpose +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>as to escape the guillotine, and get created a councillor of +state and a count by Napoleon, by whom he was appointed administrator +of one of the Rhine provinces. At the Restoration he +was named <i>ad interim</i> minister of the interior, then minister of +police, next minister of marine, afterwards postmaster-general, +and finally director-general of the administration of finances; and +was altogether so eager a place-hunter, that a pamphleteer of the +time said of him that he would have hired himself out to the +plague if the plague only gave pensions. The other was M. de la +Motte, a nephew of Madame de Suremont’s, and son of a chevalier +of St.-Louis killed at the battle of Minden. This young gentleman, +an officer, or as Madame Campan and the Abbé Georgel say, a +private in the <i>gendarmerie</i>, and destitute of any fortune whatever, +had already managed to involve himself deeply in debt. Previous +to the Revolution the <i>gendarmerie</i>, very different from the force +now known by that name, was the first cavalry regiment in France, +and the usual refuge for young men of good family but poor +estate.</p> + +<p>Let us hear what the lady herself has to say respecting this +young man (who had only his sword with which to cut his way to +fortune), and his pretensions to be considered the accepted suitor +of a descendant of the royal house of Valois.</p> + +<p>“Amongst many other species of amusement, we frequently performed +comedies, in one of which I engaged to take a part. M. de +la Motte, an officer in the gendarmes, and nephew of Madame de +Suremont, being on a visit to Bar-sur-Aube, acquired great reputation +for his performance, and became remarked for his assiduity +and attention to please. The part of a valet was assigned to him, +and that of a waiting-maid to me. We divided the applause of the +company, for having, as they pleased to express, sustained our +characters with so much propriety.</p> + +<p>“From the moment of our first interview M. de la Motte paid +me very pointed attention. He eagerly seized every opportunity +of showing me how solicitous he was to please. His compliments +were not glaring, but of that delicate nature which could only proceed +from the genuine dictates of an honest heart. Elegant in +person and manners, and insinuating in address, the honourable +intention which he manifested could not prove disagreeable to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>me. I listened, and, as I believe, is generally the consequence +where any of our sex listen to the persuasions of youth, elegance, +and accomplishments in the other, I was soon not far from loving +him.</p> + +<p>“Madame de Suremont perceived the growing attachment of her +nephew, and afforded him every opportunity of urging his suit. +She frequently left us together when the company were gone, engaging +M. de la Motte to remain and write out my parts, and give me +instructions in acting them.</p> + +<p>“I will ingenuously confess that I loved M. de la Motte. He +possessed a sincerity of heart, seldom to be found excepting in the +country, blended with those polished manners which mark the +<i>habitué</i> of the metropolis. He seized every opportunity of rendering +himself agreeable, and I had every reason to suppose he entertained +favourable sentiments towards me, at least I wished so, and +the gradation is so natural that it will not appear strange if I +believed it.</p> + +<p>“M. de la Motte, I had remarked for some days, appeared +thoughtful and melancholy; but as he had never communicated +to me the cause, though I was uneasy at the effect of it, I forebore +to make inquiry. He advised me to go to Paris to see my brother, +and to make known his pretensions to Madame de Boulainvilliers, +my worthy mother, and endeavour to obtain her consent to our +union. Fearful that breaking this matter suddenly to the +marchioness, after having carried it on so far without her knowledge, +might give her offence, I hesitated some time ere I could +form a resolution to acquaint her; but, trusting to her goodness, I +at length yielded to M. de la Motte’s arguments in favour of a +determination which was also consonant to the dictates of my own +heart.</p> + +<p>“When I had resolved on a journey to Paris, which highly gratified +M. de la Motte, I at once wrote a letter to Madame de Boulainvilliers, +informing her that having heard of my brother’s arrival, and +being anxious to see him, I should be at Paris the Saturday following +by eight o’clock. The interval was occupied by M. de la Motte +in giving me directions for my behaviour, and earnestly pressing +me to return as soon as possible, and complete his happiness by +the celebration of our nuptials. Not a single person in the house, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>not even my sister, was acquainted with what was in agitation. +The attentions of M. de la Motte had long been observed, but our +marriage was whispered of only as a conjecture.</p> + +<p>“On the Wednesday following, about three in the morning, I set +off in the diligence, and after a very tedious and disagreeable +journey, over roads which at once prove the neglect of the government +and the patience of the people, I arrived near Paris, and found +Julia, the marchioness’s first woman, waiting with a coach at the +Porte Saint-Antoine. I was not a little pleased at being so near +the end of my journey, and felt no regret at quitting my disagreeable +vehicle for the one which conveyed me to the Hôtel de +Boulainvilliers.</p> + +<p>“I was impatient to see my brother, but I was disappointed; he +had received orders to join his squadron at Brest. Madame de +Boulainvilliers received me with that cordiality and affection with +which the tenderest of mothers would receive her daughter after a +long absence. She told me that my brother would not have written +to inform me of his arrival if it could have been foreseen how +soon he was to depart. This information gave me much uneasiness, +which Madame de Boulainvilliers used the utmost assiduity +to dissipate.</p> + +<p>“The evening was occupied by many questions which the +marchioness asked me relative to Bar-sur-Aube, concerning our +reception and the diversions and entertainments of the place. I +took advantage of this opportunity to mention the comedy. I perceived, +from a sign she made to Madame de Tonneres, her daughter, +that she had some private correspondent in that place, who had +informed her of more than I knew, and that the information +I had to give was by no means novel. This surprised me not a +little.</p> + +<p>“A day or two after they resumed the topic, and Madame de +Tonneres asked me what character I played. I told her that of a +waiting-maid. She seemed surprised that I should choose a part +like that, when there were many others for which I was much +better adapted. ‘But who,’ said Madame de Boulainvilliers, ‘was +the young man who played the part of Jasmin? Is he a young +man? Pray how old is he?’ I could not well comprehend the +drift of these questions, which, nevertheless, I found myself constrained +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>to answer. ‘He is a young gentleman,’ I replied, ‘who has a +commission in the gendarmes,’ and I then proceeded to give them +information respecting his family. ‘And what do you think of +him?’ ‘That he has a pleasing address, is much of a gentleman, +and has received a very good education; understands music, and +dances to perfection: everybody gives him the credit of being a +very accomplished young man, and all admit that he played his +character like an experienced actor.’ Perceiving me growing warm +in my encomiums, the marchioness smiled. Her daughter observed +it, and they exchanged some very significant glances with each +other, and then, to avoid giving me any suspicions, changed the +subject of the conversation.</p> + +<p>“On another occasion Madame de Tonneres, with whom I was +frequently left alone, examined me yet more closely respecting M. +de la Motte. ‘What!’ inquired she, in a tone of raillery, ‘did this +presumptuous wretch ever aspire to be your husband?’ ‘Oh, yes! +he proposed demanding me in marriage through his mother, at the +same time informing me of his fortune and expectations.’ ‘And +what answer did you make, my dear?’ ‘That I would beg Madame +de Boulainvilliers to give her consent,’ replied I. ‘But did you +give no promise of your own accord, and are you really partial to +him?’ I answered these questions in the affirmative. ‘Well, then, +my dear,’ replied she, ‘from your approbation, I will believe him +worthy of your love.’ ‘Then do me the favour,’ replied I, ‘to +represent my affections to my dear mother, at some convenient +opportunity when I am not present; and you may, if you please, +inform her, at the same time, that M. de la Luzerne, bishop of +Langres, can give her every information concerning the family with +which he is well acquainted: indeed, he has been requested by the +mother of M. de la Motte to demand me in marriage.’ The result +was that Madame de Tonneres kindly undertook my cause with +the marchioness, who, having my happiness at heart, wished me, in +a matter which could but once be resolved on, to take time for deliberation.</p> + +<p>“Though Madame de Boulainvilliers seemed rather to dissuade +me from my purpose than consent to its accomplishment, she +nevertheless consented to write to the Bishop of Langres, who the +very next evening paid her a visit. As soon as he arrived I made +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>my obedience and retired, leaving him and the marchioness to their +private conference.</p> + +<p>“I was in no small state of anxiety to learn the result of a +negotiation to me of such importance, yet was at a loss of whom to +inquire. The next morning I was relieved from suspense, for I received +a letter from the reverend prelate, informing me of their +conversation the evening before. He gave me some hopes of obtaining +the consent of the marchioness, and this was all; as for +the marquis, I learnt that he positively refused his consent to the +match.</p> + +<p>“In a few days I departed for Bar-sur-Aube: my regret at parting +with the marchioness was increased by my having to return +home without obtaining her consent to our marriage, which, though +this had been the express object of my journey, I could not consistently +with delicacy or duty press any further, lest I should +appear too precipitately to reject the prudent advice which she had +given me.</p> + +<p>“My return to Bar-sur-Aube was much more agreeable than my +journey to Paris. I had written to my sister and M. de la Motte +to apprise them of it, and was met by them about two leagues from +Bar-sur-Aube, at a beautiful seat, the residence of M. de la Motte’s +mother.</p> + +<p>“The news of my departure, and the object of my journey, had +transpired and spread through the village; every one spoke of my +marriage with M. de la Motte. It was whispered that Mademoiselle +de Valois had returned with the consent of her brother +and Madame de Boulainvilliers to solemnize this marriage; all +welcomed me with as much pleasure as if, instead of a week, I had +been absent a year.</p> + +<p>“M. de la Motte received me with heartfelt satisfaction, but his +countenance seemed to speak a degree of anxiety; he feared that +it was the intention of Madame de Boulainvilliers to have married +me to some other husband, and trembled for the success of my embassy: +he read in my looks that all was not as it should be, while +the words which dropped from Madame de Boulainvilliers made +me doubtful whether I should be able to obtain her consent. The +uneasiness which on this account overspread my countenance was +intelligible only to M. de la Motte, by whose advice I was prevailed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>upon to take the only steps prudence dictated in so delicate and +embarrassing a position.</p> + +<p>“My pen was the instrument by which I disclosed a secret my +timidity could never suffer my tongue to discover; I immediately +wrote to Madame de Boulainvilliers three successive letters, entreating +her to compassionate my distress, and to let her consent +grace our union. I also wrote to the Bishop of Langres, asking +that worthy prelate, who before had done me signal service, to intercede +with the marchioness in my behalf. The intercession of +the bishop I was confident would have its due weight, and indeed +it at length produced that consent so essential to my future +happiness.</p> + +<p>“The approbation of Madame de Boulainvilliers having now +given a sanction to our proceedings, an early day was appointed, +by the advice of the friends of M. de la Motte, for the celebration +of our nuptials, which took place, according to the custom of the +province, at midnight on the 6th of June, 1780.</p> + +<p>“The day after our marriage a grand dinner was given by +Madame de Suremont. The entertainment was profusely elegant. +There were two tables, one in the antechamber, and the other in +the dining-room. Every apartment was open and very soon +crowded; the health of the bride was an apology for drinking wine +as though it had been water. When the company quitted the table, +all were desirous to salute and wish me joy. The remainder of the +day was spent in dancing.</p> + +<p>“The banns of marriage had been published at Fontette, which +made the peasants of that place curious to know the day. They +came in great numbers to Bar-sur-Aube, with the intention of +witnessing the ceremony, and remained there some days. Amongst +them was a young peasant, a comely young fellow, who came to +Madame de Suremont and inquired bluntly for Mademoiselle +Filliette, a name by which my sister had formerly been known in +the country. ‘I know no such person,’ replied she: ‘whom do you +mean by Mademoiselle Filliette?’ ‘Why, madame,’ replied the +clown, ‘the sister of mademoiselle who is just married. Please tell +her I am Colas, of Fontette; she will recollect me.’</p> + +<p>“Madame de Suremont communicated this to my sister, who, +out of compassion for the unfortunate rustic, refused to see him lest +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>such an interview should make him more unhappy. Durand, indeed, +to detain my sister in the country, had promised her in marriage to +this peasant, whose appearance was greatly in his favour, but the +recognition of her birth by the people in the neighbourhood had +kindled in the bosom of Marianne hopes of an alliance more consonant +to her ideas, more consistent with her present station. Far +from despising this poor creature, she wished to avoid giving him +pain. She begged me, therefore, to speak to him: I did so. +‘Good day, my dear friend,’ said I, ‘what are your commands for +my sister?’ ‘I wish, madame,’ replied he, ‘to have the honour of +paying my respects to her. She is of the same age, we have stood +sponsors together, and M. Durand, her godfather, promised me that +I should marry her. But her fortune is changed; she is now +Mademoiselle de Valois; and I am not quite such a fool as to think +that she will have me for her husband, as she is descended from the +blood-royal; but I wish to have the pleasure of seeing her in her +fine clothes, for I am sure,’ continued he, bursting into tears, ‘she +is very handsome!’⁠<a id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> I could not help shedding a tear of pity for +this honest rustic. His grief, however, was not to be alleviated; +the presence of my sister would but have increased his misery; at +least she thought so, and could not be prevailed upon to see him. +Finding himself without hope, he went home again, murmuring at +what he termed the false-heartedness of his mistress.</p> + +<p>“Some few days after I accompanied my sister to Fontette, +where, it being Sunday, we went to mass. All the peasants rose +from their seats at our entrance, and desired the curate should do +us honour, as the children of the Baron de Saint-Remi their late +lord. We received the holy water and the consecrated bread in the +seat of honour; the bells were rung, and every one testified their +joy on our arrival. They crowded about the house where we +were staying; we ordered them six livres a-piece, for which they +testified their gratitude by drinking our healths, and the health of +the Baron de Saint-Remi de Valois, and his safe return. They +then conducted me to the mansion of my ancestors, and round the +grounds of the patrimonial estate. This mansion, this noble estate, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>thought I to myself, might have been possessed by the descendants +of those who acquired it by valour,⁠<a id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> and enjoyed it with hospitality. +I lamented the ravages of luxury: I thought of the credulity and +easy temper of my father, who sacrificed everything to the extravagance +of his wife. Had it not been for these he might have +sustained the dignity of his ancestors, and his miserable offspring +have maintained that position to which they were by birth entitled.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>To provide herself with a suitable <i>trousseau</i>, Mademoiselle de +Valois had been obliged to raise one thousand livres on a mortgage +of her pension for two years; while, to defray the expenses incident +to the wedding, M. de la Motte, on his part, sold for six hundred +livres a horse and cabriolet which he had only bought a short time +previously on credit at Lunéville, where his corps was doing garrison +duty.⁠<a id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>We will close this chapter with a pair of portraits of Monsieur +and Madame de la Motte, which their friend Beugnot has sketched +for our benefit. “M. de la Motte,” observes his rival, “was an +ugly man, but well made and skilled in all bodily exercises, whilst, +despite his ugliness, the expression of his face was amiable and +mild. He did not exactly lack talent, still what he possessed was +frittered away on trifles. Destitute of all fortune, he was clever +enough to get head over ears in debt, and only lived by his wits +and on the trifling allowance of three hundred francs a year which +his uncle, M. de Suremont, was obliged to make him to enable him +to retain his position in the gendarmerie.”</p> + +<p>With regard to Madame de la Motte, Beugnot says: “She was +not exactly handsome, was short in stature, slender, and well +formed. Her blue eyes were full of expression and over-arched with +black eyebrows; her face rather long; her mouth wide, but adorned +with fine teeth, and, what is the greatest attraction in such a face +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>as hers, her smile was enchanting. She had a pretty hand, a very +small foot, and a complexion of dazzling whiteness. When she +spoke her mind exhibited no sign of acquired knowledge, but she +had much natural intelligence, and a quick and penetrating understanding. +Engaged in a perpetual conflict with society from the +time of her birth, she had learned to disdain its laws, and had but +little respect for those of morality.”</p> + +<p>M. Beugnot adds the following anecdote:</p> + +<p>“When I returned home that evening my father mentioned to +me that fifteen or twenty years previously, whenever he went to +collect his rents in the parish of Essoyes, the curé of Fontette never +failed to tax his purse for the poor children of Jacques de Saint-Remi, +who were huddled together in a dilapidated hovel with a trap-hole +in front, through which soup, vegetables, broken victuals, and +other charitable doles were passed by the neighbours.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="VI">VI.<br> +<span class="smcap">1780–1782.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE.—IN BARRACKS AT LUNÉVILLE.—ON A FIFTH +FLOOR IN PARIS.—ENSNARES THE GRAND ALMONER.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>From the day of her marriage, in the summer of 1780, our heroine +assumed the title of Countess de Valois de la Motte, though on +ordinary occasions she dropped the former portion of it, retaining +only the name of De la Motte, by which she afterwards became so +notorious. The wedding did not take place a day too soon, for in +the course of the same or following month the countess gave birth +to male twins, that died a few days afterwards. Thereupon Madame +de Suremont, glad of an excuse for getting rid of her new relation—the +old lady used to say to Beugnot that “the most unhappy +year of her life was the one she spent in the society of this demon,”—turned +the newly-married couple out of her house.⁠<a id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> They took +refuge for a time with Madame de la Tour, a married sister of the +count’s—the young gendarme following the example of his wife, +had likewise assumed a title—but were finally obliged to rely on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>their own resources, which, as may be supposed, were of the +narrowest. De la Motte himself had nothing but his sword, and +the countess had not even her scanty pension to depend upon. +Now commenced with them that life of shifts and expedients, which +is certain in the long run to disappoint those who are unhappily +reduced to enter upon it, which subverts the principles, destroys +the best habits of even the firmest characters, and too frequently +culminates in crime. By borrowing money from friends and +neighbours so long as they were disposed to lend it, by occasional +loans from money-lenders at exorbitant rates of interest, by running +into debt with the tradespeople, and by certain small bounties +received from Paris, to assist the descendants of Henri II., in +answer to supplicatory letters written by the countess, the newly-married +couple dragged on as best they could.</p> + +<p>The count’s leave of absence having at length expired, he was +summoned back to garrison duty at Lunéville, a dull, decaying, +fortified town, composed of straight streets and regular buildings, +where in subsequent years the treaty of peace was signed between +France and Austria which gave to the former the coveted frontier +of the Rhine. The palace built by Philip, duke of Lorraine, +grandfather of Marie-Antoinette, was then, as now, a <i>caserne de +cavalerie</i>, and it was to this barrack that Count de la Motte took +his wife to share with him his incommodious quarters. Here madame’s +“lively complexion” and “excess of vivacity,” as she styles +them, were not long in exercising their sway over the more susceptible +of her husband’s comrades. In September of the following +year the count and his wife had determined upon proceeding +to Paris to urge the Marchioness de Boulainvilliers to interest herself +in their behalf, a project which was knocked on the head by +the count’s commanding officer, the Marquis d’Autichamp,—whose +too familiar intimacy with Madame de la Motte was the talk not +merely of the corps, but of the town,⁠<a id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> and who had himself contemplated +escorting madame on her journey to the capital,—peremptorily +refusing the count any further leave of absence. Just at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>this time intelligence reaches the De la Mottes that the Marquis +and Marchioness de Boulainvilliers are at Strasbourg, only some +threescore miles or so away. Commanding-officer d’Autichamp, we +suppose, relents; for the count gets a few days’ leave, and to Strasbourg +the pair hasten as fast as a French diligence of the eighteenth +century will carry them, which is, however, not fast enough, for on +their arrival they learn from the great charlatan of the age, Count +Cagliostro, who just then happens to be showing off in the capital +of Alsace, that the Marquis and Marchioness de Boulainvilliers +have departed for Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan’s Palace at +Saverne. There was nothing else but to give chase, so off the De +la Mottes start, and on their arrival in the vicinity of the episcopal +château, put up at some little inn, whence the countess writes to +Madame de Boulainvilliers, apprising her that she is in the neighbourhood, +and asking when she may be permitted to call upon her. +The next day she is honoured by a visit from the marquis, who +escorts her over to his wife. Some few days afterwards, while the +marchioness and madame are taking a carriage drive together, they +meet the Cardinal de Rohan, Grand Almoner of France, to whom +Madame de Boulainvilliers introduces her <i>protégée</i>, and strongly +recommends her to this powerful prelate’s kindly notice.⁠<a id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>On her return home to barrack quarters, if home indeed they +could be called, the countess harped, day after day, upon her +fancied claims to the three estates that formerly belonged to her +family, and no wonder if she at length came to the conclusion that +Paris and Versailles, rather than a dull garrison town like Lunéville, +were the proper spheres for her enterprise and ambition. To +Paris, therefore, she resolved to go; but, alas! how was she to +obtain the means of defraying the expenses of her journey and of +her sojourn in the capital? Commanding-officer d’Autichamp +would willingly escort her there, and pay all travelling expenses, +but just then her husband is jealous and cannot be brought to consent. +Fortunately for the countess, one of her Bar-sur-Aube +friends—the father of the M. Beugnot, of whom we have already +spoken—came to the rescue with a loan of one thousand livres, and +to her honour it may be recorded, that whenever afterwards she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>spoke of this service she was always much moved, and, what is +perhaps more to her credit, during the period of her dishonest +prosperity she paid the money, as she paid all the debts she had +contracted at Bar-sur-Aube, her adopted home. However corrupt +her general character may have been, she was certainly not wanting +in gratitude.</p> + +<p>This thousand livres she and her husband divided equally between +them, and they then set forth in different directions it is true, +but still with the same object at heart, namely, to procure the +restitution of the Saint-Remi estates. The countess went to Paris +to press her claims on the attention of those in power. The count +resigned his post in the gendarmerie, never to do, from that hour +forward, another day of honest work during the remainder of his +long life, and betook himself to Fontette to search for evidence on +the spot, and to ascertain the exact nature of the steps requisite to +be taken to recover possession of this and the adjacent Saint-Remi +domains. Arrived at his destination, he caused a <i>Te Deum</i> to be +chanted in the church, and, as the congregation were leaving, +scattered handfuls of silver among the gaping crowd, who, on experiencing +this mark of favour, did not hesitate to hail him as their +lord; and lord of Fontette he was by courtesy, so long as his +money lasted, which, unfortunately for the rustics of the place, was +not long. His last livre dissipated, the count was only too glad to +get back again to Bar-sur-Aube to such a home as his sister was +able to offer him.⁠<a id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess, on her part, so soon as she arrived in Paris, proceeded +to set to work. She wrote at once to young Beugnot, who +was then prosecuting his legal studies in the capital, informing him +that she had a letter for him from his father, and asking him to +call upon her. Beugnot lost no time in complying with her request, +and found the purport of the letter was to urge him +thoroughly to examine the countess’s claims to the Fontette, Essoyes, +and other estates, and see if there was any real foundation for +them. “I took the affair,” says Beugnot, “seriously in hand as +my father desired me, and readily enough found the letters patent +of Henri II. which conferred the domains in question on his natural +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>son, but I could not trace the various deeds diverting the possession +of them from the Saint-Remis into the hands of the different +proprietors who were in nowise connected with the family. One of +the latest of these, a M. Orceau de Fontette, superintendent of +Caen, had exchanged the lands held by him with the king. This +was a favourable circumstance for us in the prosecution of our +claim, as the king had only to forego his hold upon the property +to restore to the Saint-Remis one of the possessions of their forefathers.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The young lawyer now proceeded to compose a “Mémoire,” +wherein, in true French style, he spoke of his client’s case as “one +more insult of fortune to the Valois, the hard lot of a branch detached +from that ancient tree which had so long covered with its +royal shade France and other European states. I interspersed my +composition,” says Beugnot, “with those philosophical reflections +then so much in fashion, and asked the Bourbons to pay the +natural debt of those from whom they had received so magnificent +a heritage. I submitted my composition to M. Elie de Beaumont, +a celebrated advocate, and also a man of taste. ‘It is a pity,’ remarked +he, ‘that we cannot bring this business before the Parliament; +it would make your reputation.’ Alas! I did not even +receive for my labour the honours of print. People said it was +entirely a matter for the royal favour, and that to print the +‘Mémoire’ would be contrary to the respect due to the king.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> +Beugnot thereupon composed a new “Mémoire,” or rather petition +to the crown, which was in due course presented, though without +producing the result which the sanguine expectations of the countess +and her advocate anticipated from it.</p> + +<p>Early in November, 1781, either by previous invitation from the +marchioness or of her own accord, Madame de la Motte presented +herself at the Hôtel de Boulainvilliers, bent upon jogging the +marchioness’s memory with reference to a commission in the +dragoons which she had made a half promise to obtain for the +count, her husband, and intending to say a few words respecting +her own claim to the Saint-Remi estates, when, to her surprise and +grief, she found her benefactress lying dangerously ill. She remained +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>and tended her until her death, which took place in about +three weeks; yet, strange to say, she was unable to forego her +passion for intrigue even at a time like this, for she admits, while +the marchioness was lying past hope of recovery, having had a +<i>tête-à-tête</i> interview with the marquis, on the length of which she +was rallied by the gentlemen staying at the hôtel. During this +interview the marquis, she tells us, made her “a downright proposal” +to the effect that on his wife’s death she should reside with +him as his mistress, he engaging to procure for her husband a post +in some regiment which should “prevent him from troubling them +too often.” All this she calmly listened to, and when the marchioness +was dead still continued to reside under the same roof +with the man who had made this disgraceful proposition to her, +exposed, as she herself admits, to his daily persecutions. The old +reprobate, too, was always upbraiding her, she says, with “loving +other men better than him,” and openly accused her of carrying on +an intrigue beneath his roof with the old Bishop of Langres, who +visited her much more frequently than the marquis thought +necessary or prudent.</p> + +<p>After a while the count, who had been rusticating ever since his +Fontette expedition at Bar-sur-Aube, turned up at the Boulainvilliers +hôtel to look after his wife, when the marquis, in revenge, +as madame says, for the contempt with which she invariably +treated him, endeavoured to arouse the jealousy of her husband by +accusing her—falsely, of course—with being too intimate with his +son-in-law, and of sundry unbecoming familiarities with the count’s +cousin, who had pawned his watch to defray the expense of a three-days’ +frolic with the countess at Versailles. However, Count de +la Motte, according to his wife, “had too much good sense to give +any credit to these insinuations; he listened attentively, but did +not believe a single iota of them.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>While the countess was residing under the Boulainvilliers roof +she was constantly on the look-out to push her own or her husband’s +fortunes, and eventually succeeded in talking over the Baron +de Crussol, son-in-law of the Marquis de Boulainvilliers, to procure +M. de la Motte a post in the Count d’Artois’s body-guard. This +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>necessitated the count’s removal to Versailles; so, turning their +backs on the Hôtel de Boulainvilliers, where the marquis had for +some time past adopted an unpleasant system of retrenchment in +order to bring madame to “his way of thinking”—in other words, +had placed the descendant of the house of Valois and her tall and +hungry spouse on exceedingly short commons—the pair went forth +in search of whatever Fortune might please to send them.</p> + +<p>From certain hints dropped by the countess it is evident that she +had grown disgusted with the avarice and meanness rather than +with what she styles the “detested attentions” of the marquis, +who, had he only loosened his purse-strings, and dispensed his +bounty with a liberal hand, had been looked upon favourably +enough, and possibly had been the means of saving Cardinal Prince +de Rohan from getting entangled in the countess’s toils.</p> + +<p>It is not to be supposed that at this epoch of her career Madame +de la Motte had forgotten her introduction to this prelate, or that +she omitted to remind him of it, and of Madame de Boulainvilliers’ +recommendation of her to his notice and sympathy. Was he not, +in fact, Grand Almoner of France, and, by virtue of his office, +dispenser of the king’s and a nation’s bounties? and humiliating +though she might pretend it to be for one who had the blood of +the Valois in her veins to have to appeal to the servant of the +sovereign instead of to the throne itself, the pill, if a trifle bitter, +must nevertheless be swallowed.</p> + +<p>Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan, at this time in his eight-and-fortieth +year, is described as a tall, portly, handsome-looking man, +with a slightly ruddy complexion, bald forehead, and almost white +hair. There was a noble and easy bearing about him,⁠<a id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> and his +manners are said to have been singularly agreeable so long as he +kept his temper, of late grown exceedingly choleric, under restraint. +He was weak and vain, and credulous to a degree; anything +but devout, and mad after women.⁠<a id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> Unrestricted by his +priestly office, he led a notoriously dissolute life, which scandalized +even the loose moralists of that loose epoch; still, he was commonly +looked upon as a good-enough sort of man so far as little +acts of kindness and generosity were concerned, more especially, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>too, when the suppliant happened to be of the fair sex, and +youthful, and a beauty withal. It is not to be wondered at, +therefore, that he responded favourably to the countess’s first and +second appeals. This gave her hope; and, the better to profit by +the grand almoner’s liberality, and to secure his influence in +support of her claims, she took an apartment in Paris during the +summer of 1782 within a short distance of his hôtel. It was a +poor sort of a lodging, consisting merely of two ill-furnished rooms +on the topmost <i>étage</i> at the Hôtel de Reims, in the Rue de la +Verrerie, a narrow, ill-paved, irregularly-built street—devoted at +the present day, not to glass factories or warehouses, as its name +would imply, but to grocery, soap, candle and dried fruit stores, +and to locksmiths’ shops, every one of which hangs out its monster +red or golden key by way of sign—running from the Rue des +Lombards into the Rue de Bercy, which intersects the Rue Vieille-du-Temple, +where the Hôtel de Strasbourg, or Palais-Cardinal, as +it was sometimes called, in which for the moment all the countess’s +hopes are centred, was situated.</p> + +<p>This hôtel built in the year 1712 by Cardinal Constantine de +Rohan, uncle of the grand almoner, on a portion of the gardens of +the Hôtel de Soubise, is now the National Printing Office, and internally +retains no traces of what it was when Prince Louis de Rohan +lived here in state befitting the dignity of a prince of the German +empire and a cardinal of the Holy Roman Church. The entrance +gateway and the buildings forming the external boundaries of the +court in front of the hôtel are, with the exception of some evident +alterations, much the same as they were in the days when the +Countess de la Motte was a frequent visitor at the Palais-Cardinal. +The court itself is divided by parallel ranges of buildings at right +angles with the principal front, and a gateway on the right-hand +side leads to what was evidently the stable-court, where a noble +bas-relief by Couston, representing the watering of the horses of +the sun, with the animals full life-size, may be seen over one of the +arched entrances to the stables—those stables where the horse of +one of the cardinal’s heyducs dropped down dead on a memorable +occasion of which we shall by-and-by have to speak.</p> + +<p>The principal façade of the De Rohan hôtel has undergone only +some slight alteration since the grand almoner’s time, but it is far +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>different with the interior; the grand staircase has been removed, +and the magnificent <i>salons de réception</i> have been converted into +<i>bureaux</i> for the officials attached to the national printing establishment. +In the principal waiting-room are four paintings by Boucher, +said to have formed part of the original decorations of the Palais-Cardinal: +one represents Mars attiring for the wars, with Venus +holding his shield and Cupid handing him his helmet; another +shows Mars reposing, with Venus, who looks wonderfully like a +French marchioness of the eighteenth century, with even a scantier +allowance of drapery than usual, reclining beside him on a cloud; +a third portrays Juno with her peacock, the immortal Jove facing +her, and Boreas and Æolus at his feet, blowing as though they +would burst; while in the fourth subject we have Neptune ruling +the waves with his trident, and a trio of lusty sea-gods spurting +water out of long conch-shaped shells.</p> + +<p>The garden front of the Palais-Cardinal is far more elegant than +the one which looks upon the court; being decorated with lofty +columns surmounted with enriched capitals, and having sundry +emblems as well as the armorial bearings of the house of Rohan +sculptured on the projections of the façade. Only a small portion +of the palace garden now remains to it, the chief part being +covered over with long ranges of offices in which the workpeople +attached to the national printing establishment ply their several +callings.</p> + +<p>The Countess de la Motte was woman of the world enough to +know that much may be accomplished by personal solicitation when +written applications are of little or no avail. The Cardinal de +Rohan too had a reputation for gallantry; and as for the countess +herself, she tells us in her “Memoirs” that “her face, if not exactly +handsome, had a certain piquancy about it which, combined +with her vivacity (Beugnot admits her smile was perfectly enchanting), +supplied in her the want of beauty so far as to lay her open +to the importunities of designing men.” She therefore sought an +audience of the grand almoner, and, finding that this would be +accorded her, called upon young Beugnot the day before to beg +three things of him—his carriage, his servant to follow her, and +himself to accompany her. “All these,” said she, “are indispensable, +since there are only two good ways of asking alms—at the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>church door, and in a carriage.” “I did not,” observes Beugnot, +“raise any difficulties as to the first two points, but I peremptorily +refused my arm, as I could only have presented myself with her +before the Cardinal de Rohan in the character of her advocate, after +his eminence had been notified of my coming, and had given his +permission.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> Madame was, therefore, constrained to present herself +at the cardinal’s hôtel without any other escort beyond the footman +lent to her by her friend.</p> + +<p>At the first interview Madame de la Motte had with the cardinal, +the latter, as might have been expected from his well-known character +for gallantry, proved incapable of resisting the countess’s artful +allurements, and she, bent on completing the conquest which +she felt she had made, was careful on the occasion of subsequent +visits to the Hôtel de Strasbourg, to pay the utmost attention to +her toilet—decking herself out in her finest feathers, putting on +her most coquettish airs, and making the magnificent saloons of the +Rue Vielle-du-Temple redolent with the odour of her perfumes.⁠<a id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="VII">VII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1783.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">OSCILLATES BETWEEN PARIS AND VERSAILLES.—SENDS OUT BEGGING +LETTERS AND PETITIONS.—FAINTS IN MADAME’S SALLE D’ATTENTE.—DESPAIR.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>At the time the countess was engaged in setting her snares for the +Cardinal de Rohan, she dined one day with our young Bar-sur-Aube +advocate, who saw that she was in most excellent spirits, +which every now and then exhaled in malicious remarks respecting +their common acquaintances. “I tried in vain,” says Beugnot, +“to lead her to more serious talk. Irritated at last, I threatened +to abandon her entirely to her folly. She answered me gaily that +she no longer had need of me. My brow contracted; she saw that +she was likely to lose me, and took the trouble to explain to me +that I had been exceedingly useful to her in unravelling the +particulars of her claim, in composing ‘mémoires’ and petitions +for her—in a word, in all the duties of an advocate—but that she +had now arrived at a point where she required counsel of a +different kind. She wanted some one who could point out to her +the way of getting at the queen and the <i>contrôleur-général</i>, and +who knew equally well what was necessary to be done as to be left +undone—in a word, one who was alike capable of concocting a good +intrigue, and of carrying it successfully through. It was necessary +that I should now hear from her lips, without making an ugly +grimace with my own, that in an affair of this kind she looked +upon me as the most foolish of men; she had, indeed, already taken +several steps without asking my advice. Her husband’s condition, +she went on to say, was one of ridicule to all the world, and consequently +an obstacle to her advancement. She had made him enter +as supernumerary into the Count d’Artois’ body-guard, which +would give him a sort of standing, which the gendarmerie did not. +She had found means, moreover, to get him to Versailles to perform +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>his duties there, and where, at least, he would not be so sorry a +sight as he was in the country. She observed that she was about +to reside at Versailles herself, in order to secure an opportunity of +getting at the queen, and of interesting her majesty in her favour. +This was the first time,” remarks Beugnot, “that she pronounced +the name of her sovereign in my presence.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>At Versailles, which at this period was crowded with intriguers +and adventurers, living for the most part by their wits, the +countess resided, first of all with the widow Bourgeois, in the +Place Dauphine, whence she speedily removed to the Hôtel de +Jouy, in the Rue des Récollets, a long narrow street leading on to +the immense Place d’Armes, in front of the château. Some of its +houses—built in strict accordance with the edict promulgated by +the <i>grand monarque</i> at the time a new Versailles was springing up +in the neighbourhood of his vast palace, namely, only a single +storey high, with attics, and roofed with slate—evidently date back +to the days of Louis XIV. The Hôtel de Jouy, where the countess +had her quarters, is now an ordinary dwelling-house, lofty and +narrow, with a certain air of respectability about it, situated at the +far end of the street (No. 23),⁠<a id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> in an opposite direction to the +château.</p> + +<p>Having next to nothing to live upon, it is not to be wondered at +that the De la Mottes were soon deeply in debt The countess, it +is true, converted her apartment into a kind of office, whence she +periodically sent forth letters of supplication to the nobility for +relief, and petitions to the crown praying for the restoration of the +Saint-Remi domains; but although she urged her suit with +audacious pertinacity, the result seems to have fallen far short of +her expectations. Fortunately for her there was always the +Cardinal de Rohan to fall back upon, and the snares which she +laid for him appear to have been set to some purpose, for ere six +months had gone by, Madame de la Motte had so far improved her +acquaintance with the grand almoner, who even assisted her in +the composition of her petitions and memorials,⁠<a id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> as to become convinced—in +accordance with the rule she had laid down, that alms +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>could be only effectively asked for at the church-door or from a +carriage—that a more respectable lodging was indispensable to +enable her to profit by the opportunities which this intercourse +seemed to open out to her. There were, moreover, other and most +pressing reasons for quitting the Hôtel de Reims. The De la +Mottes were fifteen hundred and eighty francs in debt to their +landlord, who had latterly not only lodged, but boarded them; in +addition to which the countess had quarrelled with the landlady, +and had attempted, it was said, to throw her downstairs.⁠<a id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> The +result was a police case, and their ejectment from the premises. +A “spacious <i>appartement</i>” the rent of which was twelve hundred +francs, was therefore hired by them in Paris, in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles +(No. 13), at that time a quiet and very respectable +street leading out of the Rue Saint-Louis, now the Rue Turenne, +and consisting entirely of private houses, within sight, too, of the +Place Royale, where three centuries ago stood the ancient Palais +des Tournelles, at the tournament in front of which Madame de la +Motte’s royal ancestor, Henri de Valois, lost his life, and almost in +a direct line (in an opposite direction to the Rue de la Verrerie) +with the cardinal’s hôtel, from which it was distant only a couple +of short streets, or some five or six minutes’ walk. Owing to their +straitened means the De la Mottes were unable to furnish their +new <i>appartement</i> until the month of May, 1783, and in the meantime +madame, when not at Versailles, was obliged to live <i>au +cinquième</i> with the mother of her <i>femme de chambre</i>,⁠<a id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> and yet she +pretends that at this time she kept five servants, male and female, +and a couple of carriages.⁠<a id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>This was mere vain boasting. She was not yet in a position to +ask alms from a carriage, but was still obliged to send her begging +letters through the post, or be herself the bearer of them. One of +these missives, written at this particular epoch, and evidently +addressed to some person in an official position—possibly to M. +d’Ormesson, the then controller-general, or to M. de Breteuil, +minister of the king’s household—has been preserved, and furnishes +a fair specimen of her style of appeal to persons in power—a little +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>flattery, more or less hypocrisy, allusions to her high descent, and a +covert threat or two. We extract its main passages, which we have +translated as closely as the bad handwriting and worse spelling of +the original document admitted of our doing.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>“You have done me the honour, sir, of informing me that you +have caused to be remitted to M. Lenoir several notes which I have +sent you; but I believed that you, sir, would have had the goodness +to oblige me, who am more sensible than any one of the confidence +which the king has in you. You are too just to see any harm in +there being granted me so small a sum as has, to my knowledge, +just been accorded to a person who is not so much to be pitied as +I, nor with so much right. I cannot think who it is that has +usurped the place due to my misfortunes.... I know that M. +de Forge [intendant of the royal fisheries and forests, of which one +or more of the Valois estates was part] is very much opposed to my +having the estate which I ask by right; still I cannot conceive that +it matters to him whether I or another am tenant of the king.... +I have the honour of assuring you that I had yesterday only +a single livre (franc), consequently I may well hope to improve my +fortunes.... It is you, sir, and your good faith that console +me. I am very sensible that you are not unmindful of my misfortunes. +I believe that you told me you would speak to +M. de Vergennes. I have inquired if this matter is under his control, +and am assured it is on you alone that it depends. I recommend +myself, therefore, to your kindness.... It is not my intention +to offer a menace to any one in declaring that I shall end +by throwing myself at the feet of the king, and acquainting him +with all my misfortunes. If you, sir, cannot lend me your assistance, +I beg you to have the goodness to cause to be returned +to me the documents which I have had the honour to send you. I +shall see, on the day of the audience, whether it will not be possible +for me to change my lot, and for my efforts to get me accorded the +trifling sum I have asked. M. Lenoir sent me yesterday a safe conduct, +which M. Amelon requested of him on my behalf, for a large +sum which I have owed these two years past, but which has not +yet reduced me to sell my furniture, and thereby cause scandals +which would assuredly have been aimed at me. Nevertheless, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>there is no help for it; I shall be forced to make away with it so +that I may live. God has not yet determined my fate, and, if +Providence does not show pity on me, people will have to reproach +themselves at seeing me come to a most miserable end. I am not +ashamed to tell you, sir, that I am going out into the world to beg. +I have borrowed from the Baron de Clugny, of the Ministry of +Marine, three hundred livres to enable me to live, which, counting +on your goodness, I have promised to return him in a week’s time. +No one, sir, has so much reason to complain as I have—my +husband without a post, my sister for a long time on my hands, +has, of course, contributed to my debts. People may do as +they please with me; still, I say it is frightful to abandon a +relation of a king, whom he has himself recognised, and who is in +the most frightful position. You will, doubtless, sir, consider me +very unreasonable, but I cannot keep myself from complaining, +since not even the smallest grace is accorded me. I am no longer +surprised that so many people are driven into crime, and I can +say, moreover, that it is religion alone that keeps me from doing +wrong....</p> + +<p>“I have the honour to be, with all the attachment of which you +are deserving, Sir,</p> + +<p class="center">“Your very humble, very obedient Servant,</p> + +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Countess de Valois de la Motte</span>.</p> + +<p>“Paris, May 16th, 1783.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a>⁠</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Unless she desired to have a couple of strings to her bow, we +can hardly imagine the “safe conduct” referred to in the foregoing +letter being required by Madame de la Motte, since in her Memoirs +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>she tells us that the Countess de Provence interested herself to procure +for her an <i>arrêt de surséance</i>, or writ under the king’s sign +manual, which not only protected the person named in it from +arrest, but saved him or her from being harassed by suits at law +as well. Madame de la Motte at the same time obtained a “safe +conduct” for her husband, the count. Convenient documents, +both of these, for individuals of their stamp. The count’s “safe +conduct” was not procured before there was pressing need of it, +for at this time the ex-gendarme was hiding from his creditors in +a little <i>auberge</i> at Brie-Comte-Robert,⁠<a id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> famous now-a-days for its +beautiful roses, a score or so of miles from Paris on the Lyons road, +and close to the Abbey of Jarcy, where his sister-in-law, Mademoiselle +de Saint-Remi, afterwards went to reside. The chances +are that he had already lost his post in the Count d’Artois’ body-guard, +although Madame de la Motte pretended that the countess +was her protectress, and that the count used to notice her “in a +particular manner” whenever she went to church at Versailles—a +notice which, by the way, it has been insinuated, subsequently +ripened into a too familiar intimacy.⁠<a id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The furniture which, on the guarantee of a Jew, the De la Mottes +eventually succeeded in obtaining for their new <i>appartement</i> in the +Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, was far from splendid, and it was, moreover, +every now and then being sent to some neighbour, notably to +Burlandeux, the count’s barber, to save it from being taken in +execution,⁠<a id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> and not unfrequently to the pawnbrokers to provide the +family with meat and bread.⁠<a id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> The countess of course kept up +her intimacy with the cardinal, on whose liberality, or call it +charity if you will, she could to a certain extent depend. If we +believe the cardinal’s statement, the donations he bestowed upon +her at this period were far from being of that prodigal character +which the countess afterwards asserted them to have been, and +were more consistent with his character of priest and grand almoner +than that of lover and man of gallantry, which latter Madame de +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>la Motte openly insinuated was the nature of the cardinal’s then +relations towards her. The cardinal asserted that four or five louis +at a time, and at irregular and somewhat distant intervals, was the +extent of the benefactions she received from him; but he was forced +to admit that he had given her twenty-five louis on one occasion, +and it eventually oozed out that he had also made himself personally +liable to a Jew money-lender of Nancy for five thousand five +hundred livres (francs), a debt contracted by the count when he +was stationed at Lunéville, and which amount the cardinal of +course eventually had to pay.⁠<a id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> These facts would seem to prove +that at this period the countess had succeeded in ensnaring her +victim, preparatory to making him, as she afterwards did, her dupe +and then her instrument.</p> + +<p>Madame de la Motte was very much in the habit of exaggerating +the amount of the charitable gifts bestowed upon her by members +of the royal family and some few of the French nobility, and even +claimed to have received certain apocryphal sums from persons of +distinction who never once assisted her. The reason for this will +be apparent enough in the course of our narrative. In the +memorials and reports published in 1786 are various disclaimers on +the part of people of rank, among others the Duke de Chartres +(afterwards Orléans Égalité), the Duke de Penthièvre, the Duke +de Choiseul, the <i>contrôleur-général</i>, &c., showing that these exceedingly +liberal benefactors, as the countess had made them out +to be, had either given nothing at all, or else that a huge disparity +existed between the sum really given and the amount pretended to +have been received. Her friend, Beugnot, moreover, speaks at +this period of sundry treats of an evening on the Boulevards, consisting +of cakes and beer, a beverage for which she had a particular +liking, while, as regards cakes, she would devour two or three dozen +of these at a sitting, making it evident that she had dined but +lightly on these occasions, if, indeed, she had dined at all.⁠<a id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> She, +however, most astonished Beugnot by the voracity of her appetite +when she dined with him, as she every now and then did, at the +“<i>Cadran bleu</i>” a noted tavern in the Champs Élysées, whence on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>a memorable occasion, some eight years later, five hundred and +odd Marseillais, who had marched up to Paris in defence of their +fellow “patriots,” and whose march inspired the composition of +the world-renowned Marseillaise hymn, rushed forth on the grenadiers +of the Filles Saint-Thomas section, and drove them pell-mell +over the drawbridge of the Tuileries. Other friends of the countess’s +tell, too, of frequent loans of ten, fifteen, or twenty livres at +a time, all of which is tolerable evidence of semi-starvation and +penury rather than of an abundance or even a sufficiency of means.</p> + +<p>Spite, nevertheless, of the limited nature of their resources, there +is no doubt but that when the De la Mottes had regularly settled +down in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, they made pretensions to +something like display. They borrowed, for instance, a service of +silver plate of a friend—a M. de Vieilleville; and according to the +countess’s own statement, M. de Calonne, at one of the interviews +she succeeded in obtaining with him just after his appointment to +the office of <i>contrôleur-général</i>, plainly told her that she was only +“shamming poverty,” and commenced twitting her respecting her +hôtel at Paris, her cabriolet, her coach, her travelling-carriage, and +her servants in livery. To convince Calonne that whatever might +be her style of living, she was nevertheless in great pecuniary +difficulties, she took him one day the tickets for numerous articles +of furniture pledged by her at the Mont de Piété, and by this ruse +succeeded in securing some small amount of official sympathy, +which developed itself in a gift of six hundred livres from the +royal treasury, on the express condition, however, that she was to +make no further appeals.</p> + +<p>Soon after the countess had become regularly resident in the +Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, she was a frequent attendant at mass at a +convent of Minimes, on the opposite side of the way, which has +long since been demolished, and barracks for gendarmerie erected +on its site, but the remembrance of which is still preserved in the +nomenclature of several of the adjacent streets. A certain Father +Loth having his eye upon so interesting an addition to the common +fold, made her an offer of a key by means of which she might let +herself into the chapel to the ten o’clock mass, attended, as he explained +to her, only by persons of her own condition. The countess +accepted the offer, and a kind of acquaintanceship sprang up between +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>Father Loth and her, which resulted in the former becoming +a constant visitor at the De la Mottes, and insinuating himself +into the confidence of the family; and subsequently, when brighter +days dawned upon them, officiating as a sort of steward of their +household.</p> + +<p>Although the countess went constantly to Versailles, in the hope +of obtaining by some lucky chance access to the queen, she seems +to have been baffled in all her efforts. She had scraped acquaintance +with Desclos, one of the queen’s pages, at a man-midwife’s at +Versailles,⁠<a id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> and was on gossiping terms with the gatekeeper of +the Little Trianon, but could make no further advance at court, +until by a lucky chance she one day succeeded in penetrating into +the apartments of one of the princesses. Here, whilst waiting +among other visitors for her turn to be introduced, she suddenly +fell down like a person fainting from weakness, and otherwise exhibited +symptoms of great suffering. Her poverty being known, +there was instantly a rumour afoot that sheer hunger was the +cause of this debility. The incident produced considerable excitement +in the court circle, and news reaching the ears of the Countess +de Provence that a lady of rank had fainted in the <i>salle d’attente</i>, +from lack of sustenance, she flew to her assistance, and after treating +her with all the tenderness that humanity dictated, gave her +some twelve or fifteen louis to relieve her necessities. The countess, +much affected by the occurrence, is said to have mentioned it on +the following day to Marie-Antoinette, who was about to yield to +the impression it made upon her sensibility; but Louis XVI., who +had received so many of Madame de la Motte’s petitions, and had +been sufficiently bored thereby, had conceived a strong prejudice +against both her and her pretensions, and pronounced her swoon +to be a mere ruse to extort money. The result was that the queen +closed her purse-strings, and Madame de la Motte took little or +nothing by her move. Most persons in her situation, after this +signal failure, would have considered their struggle for court +favour as fairly concluded, but it was far from being so with her. +She was one of those indomitable spirits gifted with a pertinacity +which no mere rebuff could check, no disappointment discourage.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span></p> + +<p>For some time past the countess had made a point of laying +siege to one controller-general after another—first to M. Joly de +Fleury, then to M. d’Ormesson, and finally to M. de Calonne, in +whose antechamber she was a constant attendant, and whom she +so pestered with her petitions and memorials and personal appeals +for relief, spite of the understanding come to when the six hundred +livres were given to her, that she became at length a kind of +terror to the minister, who showered gold around him with easy +facility from a bankrupt exchequer, while, as a courtier said, “All +the world held out its hand, but I held out my hat.” To rid himself +of the countess’s importunities, and urged by Madame Elisabeth +and the Countess de Provence (who since the fainting scene had +taken some kind of interest in her) to do something towards her +relief, M. de Calonne obtained an augmentation of seven hundred +livres (twenty-eight pounds) to the De la Motte pension. Instead, +however, of feeling in any degree grateful for this act of favour, +the countess tells us that when the minister communicated the +intelligence to her she indignantly refused this “pitiful addition,” +as she called it, “to her income.” Visions of the restoration of +the Essoyes, Fontette and Verpilière estates had been floating +before her eyes, and in the heat of her passion she exclaimed, “I +will oblige you, sir, to speak of my demands to the king. Tell +him, sir, that I will fix myself in this house”—the palace of Versailles—“until +he thinks proper to provide me with another +home.” And the irate countess in accordance with her threat did +actually remain for several hours, but at last took her departure, +because, as she naïvely remarks, her further stay there “would +have answered no purpose.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It must have been about this period that the countess, harassed +by pecuniary difficulties, and determined to exhaust every chance +of relief that suggested itself, ventured upon an appeal to Madame +Dubarry, the late king’s banished mistress, who clung as close upon +the skirts of the Court as she dared do, residing in her charming +pavilion at Louveciennes, within eye-shot of Versailles. Thither +Madame de la Motte drove over one day ostensibly to offer herself +as <i>dame de compagnie</i> to the dowager queen, as she used ironically +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>to style the once all-powerful favourite of Louis the Well-Beloved; +but Madame Dubarry, judging from the absurd pretensions she put +forward with regard to her name and birth, thought her little fitted +for the post she sought to fill, and told her that she was not at that +moment in want of a companion, adding sarcastically that if she +were, she was not great lady enough to engage one of so high a +quality as a descendant of the house of Valois. Nothing disconcerted, +the countess called a second time a few days afterwards, and +made a pitiable appeal to the Dubarry to support her claims at +court, shedding floods of tears as she spoke. But as soon as her +back was turned, “La Faiblesse,” as Marie-Antoinette was accustomed +to style the Dubarry, whose heart was none of the most +susceptible, bored by the countess’s melting display, and caring not +a straw for the house of Valois or any of its bastard descendants, +flung both petition and memoir, which the countess had presented +to her, into the fire.⁠<a id="FNanchor_54" href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess now addressed herself to the well-known favourite +of Marie-Antoinette, the Duchess de Polignac, whose influence over +her royal mistress, whenever she chose to exercise it, was believed +to be supreme. The duchess, however, got rid of her once for all +with this freezing reply: “Madame the duchess is too much engaged +for other persons to oblige Madame de la Motte in any claim +which she may have to make of the king or the queen, who are +already fatigued with numberless applications.” The descendant +of the house of Valois was cut to the quick at the treatment she +received at the hands of “this imperious woman, whose haughty +demeanour sufficiently characterises her grovelling extraction. Was +this the woman,” she exclaims, “whom in my humble station of +mantua-maker’s apprentice I had so frequently waited upon from +Madame Boussel’s to obtain payment, and who then instead of +money could only pay me with courtesy and fair promises? Is this +she who before the smile of royal favour no tradesman chose to +trust, and even her mantua-maker refused to work for any longer, +and who had not even a dress in which she could be presented +at Court?”⁠<a id="FNanchor_55" href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span></p> + +<p>Sick at heart, weary almost unto death, the wretched woman saw +no escape from the pecuniary embarrassments that threatened to +overwhelm her, except in suicide. Providing herself, she tells us, +with a couple of loaded pistols she bent her steps towards a wood +about a league distant from Versailles, and passing through the +park, came to a large and deep pit, which had formerly been a +stone quarry. Here she prepared to carry her resolution into effect, +and had placed one of the pistols to her right ear when thoughts +of her husband stayed her hand. Flinging herself on the ground +she wept long and bitterly, and then offered up a fervent prayer. +On becoming more calm she returned home, still however mourning +her unhappy fate.⁠<a id="FNanchor_56" href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII">VIII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1781–1783.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE DIAMOND NECKLACE AGAIN.—STILL NOT SOLD.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>While the events narrated in the last chapter have been transpiring, +let us see how it has fared with our friends the crown +jewellers and their Diamond Necklace. M. Bassenge, after scouring +Europe through, and ascending and descending principal and +back staircases innumerable, and dancing wearying attendance in +court saloons and antechambers, has returned home without effecting +a sale. “Not a crowned head of them can spare the eighty +thousand pounds. The age of Chivalry is gone, and that of +Bankruptcy is come. A dull deep-presaging movement rocks all +thrones: Bankruptcy is beating down the gate, and no chancellor +can barricade her out. She will enter, and the shoreless fire-lava +of Democracy is at her back. Well may kings a second time ‘sit +still with awful eye,’ and think of far other things than necklaces.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_57" href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Bassenge’s mission having been without result, let us turn to M. +Böhmer, and see what kind of luck has attended his efforts. On +the 22nd of October, 1781, the Queen of France gave birth to a +dauphin. Böhmer, who felt this to be a favourable opportunity +for him to renew his application, flew to the palace with his casket +under his arm, and saw the king, at that moment the happiest +man in the land. Louis XVI. received the jeweller with much +condescension, and taking the casket from him, carried it to the +queen, telling her, with animated looks, that he had got a present +for her. But Marie-Antoinette had no sooner recognised the +gorgeous gem which she had formerly rejected than she refused +to receive it, even at the king’s hands; nor could the most earnest +solicitations on his part abate in the smallest degree the feeling of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>antipathy with which, guided by her prophetic instincts, she seems +to have regarded the fatal jewel.</p> + +<p>“Is it,” asked she, “that Böhmer may take girls covered with +diamonds to the opera, that you would pay him for his folly in +manufacturing this Necklace?”</p> + +<p>While uttering these words the queen was greatly excited. Her +nurse felt her pulse, and finding it very high begged the king not +to insist further. Louis XVI. withdrew completely disconcerted.⁠<a id="FNanchor_58" href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Now Böhmer, the crown jeweller, was a Saxon, and we all know +that the Saxons are a persevering race who do not readily desist +from a pursuit. Besides, he had gained a step; the king had as good +as sanctioned the purchase; he was won over, and in due time the +queen might be brought to relent and consent to become the possessor +of the most splendid set of brilliants in the world. Moreover +she was known at one time to have entertained a woman’s +partiality for costly jewels. What could be the reason of her +present antipathy? Was it natural in one so young and handsome? +Was it consistent? Was it, indeed, sincere?</p> + +<p>This persecution of Marie-Antoinette, which had begun in 1774, +was continued for ten years; and every time the palace guns +announced a new <i>accouchement</i> the indefatigable Böhmer, his casket +under his arm, was the first to carry his loyal congratulations to +the feet of his sovereign. In due time the crown jeweller became +noted for this kind of loyalty, so that whenever he was met with in +the streets of Versailles, certain wags used to point him out and ask +each other, “<i>Serait-ce la Reine qui accouche?</i>”</p> + +<p>Madame Campan, in her well-known work, assures us that this +persistent Saxon was for a long time the plague of the queen’s life. +She relates, among other instances of Böhmer’s persecution, that +he one day presented himself before her majesty, who had the +young princess her daughter with her at the time, in a state of +unusual excitement. Throwing himself at the queen’s feet, he +burst into tears, and exclaimed that he could put off his creditors no +longer, that he was a ruined man unless she took compassion on +him and became the purchaser of his Necklace, and that if she rejected +his appeal he would throw himself into the Seine, and so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>put an end to his misery. The queen reproved him mildly for his +rash threat, but at the same time told him that if he were madman +enough to put an end to his existence, it would not be she who was +responsible for the misfortune. She reminded him that she had +not given the order for the jewel, and advised him to extricate +himself from his difficulties by taking the Necklace to pieces and +disposing of the diamonds piecemeal.⁠<a id="FNanchor_59" href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Bertin, the queen’s milliner, asserts that at the +time she was engaged in preparing the wedding trousseau of the +bride of the Infant of Portugal, M. de Souza, the Portuguese +ambassador, confided to her that he was commissioned by his sovereign +to buy for the future Infanta the most magnificent present +which could be met with in all Paris, and that he had decided +upon purchasing the crown jewellers’ Diamond Necklace. Mademoiselle +Bertin mentioned the circumstance to Marie-Antoinette +the following day, while engaged with her at her toilette.</p> + +<p>“I am very glad of it,” observed the queen. “I shall send for +Böhmer, and will certainly thank M. de Souza for having relieved +me of this hateful Necklace.”</p> + +<p>When Böhmer entered, the queen took up a book and read for +some minutes before speaking, as her habit was when she wished +to evince her displeasure, which, on this occasion, must have been +the result either of inexplicable caprice or feminine jealousy at a +foreign princess becoming the possessor of that jewel to which the +negotiations and travels of Böhmer and Bassenge had given a kind +of European celebrity, and which had caused such a sensation +among queens and women. At length, laying down her book and +casting on Böhmer a severe glance, she observed:</p> + +<p>“I am very glad to hear, sir, that you have sold your Necklace.”</p> + +<p>“My Necklace, madame!” replied the astonished Böhmer.</p> + +<p>“Yes, your Necklace, that M. de Souza is about to send to +Lisbon.”</p> + +<p>Böhmer having given an emphatic denial to the story, the queen, +we are told, cast on Mdlle. Bertin a withering look as if to reproach +her for having needlessly alarmed her.</p> + +<p>There was a reception that day, and when M. de Souza appeared, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>the queen, contrary to all the rules of court etiquette, went straight +up to him and said, briskly:</p> + +<p>“I have to inform you, M. de Souza, that you will not have the +Necklace; it is sold.”</p> + +<p>M. de Souza appearing astonished,</p> + +<p>“You will not have it, sir,” continued she, in a tone of triumph. +“I am sorry for it.” Saying which she returned to her ladies.⁠<a id="FNanchor_60" href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Thus matters stood at the close of 1783, ten years after the +order for this ill-fated jewel had been given by the infatuated lover +of Madame Dubarry. Although all France was at this time wildly +rejoicing over the recently concluded peace between France and +England, there was gloom and depression at the Grand Balcony in +the Rue Vendôme, for creditors were still urgent and even threatening, +and the question again arose: “What is now to be done?”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="IX">IX.<br> +<span class="smcap">1784.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">SOI-DISANT CONFIDANT OF THE QUEEN.—AT VERSAILLES AND +LITTLE TRIANON.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>In the preceding chapters we have measured the period between +the year 1756, when Jeanne de Saint-Remi, now Countess de la +Motte of her own creation, was born, and the close of the year +1783, when she had reached the age of twenty-seven years. We +have witnessed the destitution of her early days, the dependence +of her youth on the kind bounty of a noble benefactress, and the +career of adventure and precarious means suddenly plunged into +to avoid a life of religious seclusion. We have seen her making +her escape from flagrant shame by an improvident marriage; have +seen the opening of her conjugal life darkened by a new term of +penury and privation, mitigated only by a system of constant +appeals for charity. We have also seen that a long and patient +probation in the same course had proved barren and abortive in +the end, her condition being then precisely the same as it was in +the beginning. We can readily conceive that her name and her +pretensions had at length come to be regarded as little else than a +by-word and a nuisance, and that the time was at hand when the +former would have no other influence beyond provoking indignation +and contempt.</p> + +<p>The family resources proved so far insufficient, that early in the +year 1784 household goods and wearing apparel were alike in +pawn at the Mont de Piété, which is hardly to be wondered at, as +the winter was one of unprecedented severity. Heavy and constant +falls of snow rendered any kind of traffic through the streets +of Paris impracticable. The Seine, too, was frozen over, so that +the transport of provisions and firewood to the capital was entirely +stopped.⁠<a id="FNanchor_61" href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> The times were of the hardest: the winter extended far +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>into the year, and in the month of April the countess solicited and +obtained permission to alienate her own and her brother’s pension—the +sister, we presume, was obstinate, and would not dispose of +hers, hence her being sent adrift to shift for herself, and becoming +an inmate of the Abbey of Jarcy—to a goldsmith and money-lender, +named Grenier, for the sum of nine thousand livres.⁠<a id="FNanchor_62" href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> This +amount, however, was insufficient to liquidate the whole of their +debts, and at midsummer the countess was forced to borrow three +hundred livres from Father Loth to pay her quarter’s rent.⁠<a id="FNanchor_63" href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> The +two pensions utterly gone, beggary and open vagrancy loom in the +distance, for the cardinal’s gifts, however handsome they may have +been at this period, go but a small way now that ever-increasing +debt is supplemented by habitual extravagance. In a few months +more the wretched adventurers will be forced to quit their +“spacious <i>appartement</i>” in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, and go +forth into the streets and highways, and in the name of Valois +again implore charity of the passing stranger. What remedy—what +desperate remedy could be devised to prevent this?</p> + +<p>The countess’s interview with the Countess de Provence, after +the fainting scene, had made some little noise, and reports were +spread to the effect that Madame Elisabeth, the king’s sister, had +since received her on several occasions, and had promised to +support her claim for the recovery of the Valois estates, and to +recommend her case again to the queen. We have no means of +judging whether these reports were true, but as Madame Campan +admits Madame Elisabeth to have been the countess’s “protectress,” +there was in all probability some real foundation for +them. Shortly afterwards, however, other reports, which were undoubted +fabrications, got into circulation. The purport of these +was, that Madame de la Motte had been honoured by the notice of +Marie-Antoinette, that she was received privately at the Petit +Trianon, and was rising rapidly in the royal favour. To give an +air of probability to this assertion, the countess, who had contrived +to scrape acquaintance with the gatekeeper of the Trianon, +managed to be seen occasionally stealing out from thence, as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>though returning from one of these pretended interviews with +royalty.</p> + +<p>No sooner did it get bruited abroad that the Countess de la +Motte had credit at court than she was applied to by that busy +and motley group of suitors—some of them in search of places and +appointments, others in quest of patronage for new inventions, or +on the look-out for opportunities to submit new schemes of taxation +and finance, and others again seeking redress of real or fancied +grievances—who gather together in the vicinage of royalty. The +daring woman saw her chance, and entering boldly on a career of +imposture, began to traffic on a credit that had no foundation, and +to sell an influence which she could not exercise. This new vocation +bid fair to prove a much readier source of emolument than +her state petitions for relief. People came to her of their own +accord, waited in <i>her</i> antechamber for an interview, conjured and +supplicated <i>her</i> to lend them her protection, and in the meantime +to permit them to show their gratitude by anticipation, and in a +substantial form.</p> + +<p>In this new line of business she was assisted by an old acquaintance +and former comrade of her husband’s in the <i>gendarmerie</i>, one +Rétaux de Villette, son of a late director-general of excise at +Lyons, and at this time about thirty years of age. Villette +left Lyons when a lad, and accompanied his mother to +Troyes, where he completed his education. His sister having +married a captain of artillery, and being himself inclined to +a military career, he followed his brother-in-law to the schools of +Douai and Bapaume, and when this latter establishment was suppressed, +entered the <i>gendarmerie</i>, where he formed a sort of intimacy +with M. de la Motte—an intimacy which was afterwards +renewed at Bar-sur-Aube, whither his mother had removed from +the neighbouring town of Troyes. Villette having exhausted the +paternal patrimony, had come to Paris to push his fortunes. His +ambition was to obtain a sub-lieutenancy in the marshalsea, still +he was not averse to turning his hand to anything that offered +itself. He was not deficient in talent, and had a certain facility of +expression; for he wrote smartish articles in the <i>Gazette</i>, could +compose pleasing enough verses, and was a very fair musician.⁠<a id="FNanchor_64" href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>Nevertheless he was one of those indolent, careless men, without +the slightest forethought, who cannot follow any regular calling, +because they are only stirred into activity by sudden caprices, and +who too often serve no other purpose beyond replenishing the +world’s stock of rascaldom, and doing their best to save it from +dying out. Finding that he was a suppliant for court favour, +Madame de la Motte first of all persuaded him that she could advance +his interests, then that she would procure for him some +better post than a sub-lieutenancy in the marshalsea, and finally +engaged him as her secretary, and by dint of “her piquant face, +her bright and piercing eyes, her white and transparent skin, her +fine teeth, her enchanting smile, her pretty hand and little foot, +her graceful manner, and natural wit,” soon enrolled him as one of +her lovers.⁠<a id="FNanchor_65" href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>We will here let the countess give her own account of her pretended +intimacy with Marie-Antoinette, an intimacy which it is +impossible to believe in for a single moment, since those who lived +in the queen’s service and society were unanimous in maintaining +that the countess was never once admitted to the queen’s presence, +nor seen in the company of any lady of her court.</p> + +<p>“One day,” she observes, “as I was paying my court to Madame +(the Countess de Provence), I was attacked with a sudden indisposition +(the fainting fit of which we have already spoken), which +made some noise at the palace; the queen, having become acquainted +with the incident, deigned to evince some interest in me; +her majesty even sent for Madame Patri, the principal <i>femme de +chambre</i> of Madame, to ascertain the particulars.</p> + +<p>“Nothing can escape the eyes of courtiers. They remarked +from that hour, that her majesty always distinguished me by a +gracious look, whenever I appeared in her presence. The cardinal +(de Rohan) surpassed everybody in giving full rein to his conjectures.</p> + +<p>“As I had received his benefits, the most natural gratitude +linked me to his fate ... for him I had no secrets; he had none +for me ... his ambition was to be prime minister, mine to be a +lady of influence at Fontette....</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span></p> + +<p>“Nothing could equal the astonishment into which I was thrown +one day, when having placed myself in the line of the queen’s +passage, her majesty condescended to honour me with one of those +smiles which are so hard to be resisted. I remember that the next +moment, having chanced to raise my eyes towards him (the cardinal), +I saw his own sparkle with delight. ‘Do you know, countess,’ +said he, ‘that my fortune is made? it is in your hands along with +your own.’... He told me I ought not to hesitate to throw myself +at the queen’s feet on the 2nd of February, during the procession +of the blue ribbons (the order of the Holy Ghost).... +Accustomed to be guided entirely by him, I promised to do what +he enjoined me.</p> + +<p>“The important day arrived.... I went to the palace in full +dress, and waited in one of the saloons for the return of the procession. +When the queen was passing, I flung myself at her feet, +and delivering my petition, said to her, in a few words, that I was +descended from the house of Valois; that as such I had been acknowledged +by the king; that the fortune of my ancestors not +having been transmitted to me along with their title, I had no other +resource than the king’s munificence; that having found every one +of the avenues leading to her majesty unrelentingly closed against +me, despair had driven me at last to take the present step.</p> + +<p>“The queen raised me up with kindness, took my petition, and, +perceiving that I trembled, deigned to bid me be of good cheer. +She then passed on, telling me to be at ease, and assured me that +due attention should be paid to the object of my request.”</p> + +<p>In the first private interview she pretends to have had with the +queen, the countess relates that Marie-Antoinette said to her:</p> + +<p>“‘I have read your memorial, the object of which is to urge the +minister to act and bestir himself with respect to the property +which belonged to your house. Having some private reasons not +to second your views ... I cannot reconcile the desire I may have +to serve you publicly, with the inclination I feel to see you in private ... +but I shall still be able to render you indirectly the +services you wish to obtain from me.’... Her majesty concluded +by presenting me with a purse.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_66" href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span></p> + +<p>A few days afterwards, she tells us, she was summoned to repair +to the Little Trianon, between eleven and twelve o’clock at night! +when she received fresh proofs of the queen’s generosity. “She +presented me at parting,” says the countess, “with a pocket-book +containing ten thousand livres (francs) on the <i>caisse d’escompte</i>, and +concluded by saying: ‘We shall meet again.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_67" href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> Madame de la +Motte then goes on to state that it is needless to tire the reader +with a repetition of the frequent interviews she had with the queen, +of whose munificence on these occasions she received numerous +proofs. “The Cardinal de Rohan,” she says, “marked her growing +favour, and insisting that his fortune was in her hands, conjured +her to let no opportunity slip of mentioning his name to his +sovereign.”</p> + +<p>Let us turn now to the other side of the picture, and see what +is said by persons likely to be well informed, as well as by Marie-Antoinette +herself, respecting this pretended intimacy.</p> + +<p>Lacretelle, whose truth and honesty are beyond question, says +“the Countess de Valois never had the least access to this +princess,” and that “one cannot read this libel (the countess’s +Memoirs) without being convinced that the queen never had any +kind of communication with these creatures, whose presence would +have defiled the throne.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_68" href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The Baron de Besenval speaks of the countess in his Memoirs +as “one of those creatures who live by intrigue and the sale of +their charms.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_69" href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> Was such a person likely to have been received +privately at the Trianon? The Baron de Besenval was a regular +visitor there himself, and would have heard of this strange and +familiar intercourse if it had ever existed.</p> + +<p>What does Madame Campan, first <i>femme de chambre</i> to the +queen, who enjoyed the confidence of her royal mistress, and was, +moreover, constantly in her company, and who, biased though she +may seem to be in her favour, invariably speaks what she believes to +be the truth—what does she say respecting this tissue of invention?</p> + +<p>“Neither the queen herself, nor any lady about her, ever had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>the slightest connection with the swindler, and during her prosecution +she could only point out one of the queen’s servants (a man +named Declos or Leclos), a page of the queen’s chamber, to whom +she pretended she had delivered Böhmer’s Necklace ... Declos,⁠<a id="FNanchor_70" href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> +on being confronted with the woman La Motte, proved that she +had never seen him but once, which was at the house of the wife +of a surgeon-accoucher at Versailles, and that she had not given +him the Necklace.” Madame Campan further states that the +countess “had never even been able to make her way into the +room appropriated to the queen’s women.” The same lady also +furnishes this additional piece of testimony:</p> + +<p>“The queen,” she says, “in vain endeavoured to call to mind the +features of this person, whom she had so often heard spoken of as +an intriguing woman, who came frequently on Sundays to the +gallery at Versailles; and at the time when all France was taken +up with the prosecution against the cardinal, and the portrait of +the Countess de la Motte-Valois was publicly sold, her majesty desired +me one day when I was going to Paris to buy her the engraving, +which was said to be a tolerable likeness, that she might +ascertain whether she could recollect in it any person whom she +had seen in the gallery.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_71" href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Marie-Antoinette herself, when questioned by Louis XVI. on the +subject of this intimate acquaintance, assured the king that she +had never seen the woman. In a few simple words she repeats her +denial when confronted with the Cardinal de Rohan, immediately +preceding his arrest. And in a private letter to her sister, written +at a time when the affair of the Diamond Necklace was making a +great noise throughout Europe, Marie-Antoinette thus denies all +previous knowledge of her pretended confidant:</p> + +<p>“I have never seen this woman La Motte; it seems she is an +adventuress of the lowest class, with a good address and a bold +air; she has been seen two or three times on the back staircase of +the Cour des Princes; this is a scheme agreed on to deceive her +dupes and to spread the belief that she is received in my closet. +The Duke de Nivernois on this occasion told me that an adventuress +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>from Paris had made her fortune in the days of Madame +de Maintenon by seating herself twice a week on the stairs; one +day she found the drawing-room of that lady open; she went in, +and seeing no one near she walked up to the balcony over the +Place d’Armes, thus proclaiming to every one that she was in +favour with Madame de Maintenon. We are surrounded in this +place by persons of that class.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_72" href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Again, at the very last, only a few hours before her head was +severed from her body by the guillotine, she still firmly repudiated +all knowledge of any such individual. Let us refer to the report +in the <i>Moniteur</i> of the “<i>Procès de Marie-Antoinette</i>,” and see what +transpired in reference to the matter.</p> + +<p>“<i>The president to the accused</i>: Was it not at the Little Trianon +that you first met with the woman La Motte?</p> + +<p>“<i>The accused</i>: I never once saw her.</p> + +<p>“<i>The president</i>: Was she not your victim in the business of the +famous Necklace?</p> + +<p>“<i>The accused</i>: She could not have been, since she was unknown +to me.</p> + +<p>“<i>The president</i>: So then you persist in denying that you were +acquainted with her?</p> + +<p>“<i>The accused</i>: Mine is not a system of denial; what I have +said is the truth, and that I will persist in.”</p> + +<p>Of course it was the truth; had it not been, Fouquier Tinville +had abundant means of proving the contrary; all France in these +days was overrun with spies and informers. The public accuser +had really no facts to allege against the prisoner in regard to +Madame de la Motte, and confessed he had not when ordered to +bring the queen to trial. Had there been the least particle of +evidence to prove Marie-Antoinette’s intimacy with so abandoned +a woman, the attorney-general of the Revolutionary Tribunal +would have been only too glad to have brought it forward. He +had not far to go, for among the witnesses actually produced were +the Count d’Estaing, formerly in command at Versailles, who +knew both the queen and the countess, and was a frequent dinner-guest +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>of the latter in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles; and Renée Sévin, +for six years under-<i>femme de chambre</i> to Marie-Antoinette, yet to +neither of these did he put a single question upon the subject. +Again, there was Reine Millot, another old servant at Versailles, +“<i>bonne citoyenne, excellente patriote</i>,” who did her best to sacrifice +her unhappy mistress, deposing that the Count de Coigny had told +her that the queen had sent two hundred million francs to her +brother, the Emperor Joseph, to enable him to make war upon the +Turks, and that she would end by ruining France; and further, +that she knew from different people that the queen had conceived +the design of assassinating the Duke d’Orléans, which when the +king heard of, he ordered her to be immediately searched, and two +pistols being found upon her, he commanded her to remain in her +own apartment for the space of fifteen days.⁠<a id="FNanchor_73" href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> A witness such as +this would have been only too eager to repeat all the scandal +current at Versailles respecting the Countess de la Motte and the +queen. Moreover, Count de la Motte himself was known to be +living at Bar-sur-Aube at the time of the queen’s trial, and could +have been readily enough produced, only Fouquier Tinville was +perfectly well aware that he could depose to nothing in the +slightest degree incriminatory of her whose death, though already +determined on, the revolutionary party would have been glad +enough to have justified on such a poor pretence even as complicity +in the Necklace fraud.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="X">X.<br> +<span class="smcap">1772–1774.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL, COMMENDATOR, GRAND ALMONER, PRINCE-BISHOP +LOUIS-RENÉ-ÉDOUARD DE ROHAN.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Among the tribe of solicitors who put faith in the report of Madame +de la Motte’s intimacy with Marie-Antoinette, and sought to turn +it to their own advantage, certainly by far the most sanguine of +them all, was her “friend” and benefactor, Louis-René-Édouard de +Rohan, Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, Bishop and Prince of +Strasbourg, Prince of Hildesheim, Landgrave of Alsace, Grand Almoner +of France, Commander of the Order of the Holy Ghost, +Commendator of St. Waast d’Arras, Superior-general of the Royal +Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, Abbé of the Chaise-Dieu, Master of +the Sorbonne, Member of the French Academy, &c., &c. The very +man who had been wont to bestow alms upon a descendant of the +house of Valois was now almost ready to cringe to the former recipient +of his bounty for favour and support. This dissolute and +intriguing prelate, who was destined to attain such unenviable +notoriety through his connection with the Countess de la Motte, +was born on the 27th of September, 1734, and at this period was +consequently verging on his fiftieth year. He was, as we have +already mentioned, a tall, stout, handsome-looking man, with a fresh-coloured +complexion, bald forehead, and whitish grey hair. His +manners were amiable; he was fluent in conversation, and though +his talents, as the upshot proves, were of a very inferior order, still +he was not deficient in that dexterity which goes a long way towards +fitting a man for the conduct of public business—he having, +with the help of his shrewd secretary, the Abbé Georgel, rather +cleverly filled the post of Ambassador at the court of Vienna for +between two and three years. He had been sent to that court in +January, 1772, to supersede the Baron de Breteuil, thereby making +a mortal enemy of that minister, now in high favour with the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>sovereign. But this was not all. He had also incurred the dislike, +and even hatred, of the Queen of France, partly in consequence +of having repeated to the Empress Maria Theresa certain +scandals current at the French court respecting the unbecoming +levity of her daughter, then dauphiness—who, by-the-way, by +virtue of his office of coadjutor at Strasbourg, he had had to receive +on the occasion of her first entry into France—and partly in consequence +of a letter written by him in an unguarded moment, wherein +he reflected strongly on the duplicity of the empress with respect +to Poland. In this letter he remarked that “Maria Theresa stands, +indeed, with a handkerchief in one hand, weeping for the woes of +Poland, but with a sword in the other, ready to cut Poland into +sections, and take her share,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_74" href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> an observation in which there was not +only point, but far too much truth for it to pass unregarded. This +letter was read and laughed over by Louis XV., and by him repeated +to the Countess Dubarry at one of her <i>petits soupers</i>, and the +countess, in her turn, gossiped about it, until at length the affair +became a court joke and reached the ears of the dauphiness, who, +whilst repressing her indignation at the time, did not fail to treasure +up the circumstance in her memory.</p> + +<p>In spite of the queen’s aversion, which, by-the-way, was fully +shared by Louis XVI., the cardinal, whose ambition led him to +covet the office of prime minister, fondly hoped, sooner or later, to +recover his ground. When therefore he heard, as very good care +was taken he very quickly should hear, that a lady who stood in +certain tender relations towards himself, and was under certain +pecuniary obligations to him, was in favour with the queen, the +credulous dotard suspected neither deception nor exaggeration in +the report; which perhaps was hardly surprising, for Nature, we +are told, had given the <i>soi-disant</i> new favourite a frank and honest +face in spite of her proficiency in the arts of deceit. “Without +possessing the full splendour of beauty,” observes the Abbé +Georgel, “the Countess de la Motte was gifted with all the graces +of youth, her countenance was intelligent and attractive, and she +expressed herself with fluency; moreover, the <i>air of truth that pervaded +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>her recitals invariably carried conviction along with it</i>.” The +cardinal, only too ready to be blinded and deluded, counselled his +<i>protégée</i> how to proceed in order to retain and improve the position +which he imagined she had already acquired, intending, without +doubt, to avail himself of her interest to recover the good +opinion of the queen, whose deep-rooted prejudice against him was +the bane of his life.</p> + +<p>Madame Campan speaks of the cardinal as a spendthrift, and a +man of the most immoral character, whose mission to Vienna +opened under the most unfavourable auspices, in consequence of +the nature of the reputation which preceded his arrival at that +court. “In want of money, and the house of Rohan being unable +to make him any considerable advances, he obtained a patent which +authorised him to borrow the sum of six hundred thousand livres +(twenty-four thousand pounds) upon his benefices; nevertheless he +ran into debt for upwards of another million, and thought to +dazzle the city and court of Vienna by the most indecent, and, at +the same time, the most ill-judged extravagance. He formed a +suite of eight or ten gentlemen of names sufficiently high sounding, +twelve pages equally well-born, a crowd of officers and servants, +together with a company of chamber musicians, and various other +retainers. But this idle pomp did not last; embarrassment and +distress soon showed themselves; his people, no longer receiving +pay, abused the ambassadorial privileges, and smuggled with so +much effrontery that Maria Theresa, to put a stop to it without +offending the court of France, was compelled to suppress the +privileges in this respect of the entire diplomatic corps.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_75" href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In those days an ambassador was not only required to be an +adept in duplicity, but he was expected, by means of bribery, or +other modes of corruption more or less dishonourable, to make +himself master of all the secrets of the court to which he was accredited. +The cardinal proved himself in this respect equal to the +mission with which he was intrusted. At the commencement of +the year 1774 he discovered that the Austrian minister, Prince von +Kaunitz, had succeeded in purchasing keys of the ciphers in which +the despatches that passed between the French king and himself +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>and the ambassadors at Constantinople, Stockholm, Dantzic, and +St. Petersburg were written. He also discovered that the court +of Vienna had obtained copies of and had deciphered all the despatches +sent by the Duke d’Aiguillon to the various representatives +of the court of Versailles throughout Northern Europe. He +learnt, too, that the main work of interception was done at Liege, +Brussels, Frankfort, and Ratisbon. At these places copies of +despatches were taken and forwarded to what was styled the +“Cabinet of Decipherers,” a department of which Baron Peckler +was the head.⁠<a id="FNanchor_76" href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>How it was that the cardinal came to make this important discovery +and to profit largely by it, as he eventually managed to do, +is quite a piece of romance. The Abbé Georgel, at that time +secretary to the French embassy at Vienna, shall tell the story in +his own words.</p> + +<p>“Returning one evening to the hôtel, the porter gave me a note +carefully sealed up, and addressed to me. I read in it as follows:—‘Be +to-night, between eleven and twelve, at a particular place upon +the ramparts, and you will be informed of matters of the very +highest importance.’ An anonymous note of this tenor, sent so +mysteriously, and the unseasonable hour appointed, might have appeared +to some persons altogether dangerous and suspicious. But +I was not aware that I had any enemies, and, desirous not to have +to reproach myself with having missed an opportunity that might +never occur again of promoting the king’s service, I determined to +attend at the appointed place. But I took some prudential +precautions, by placing within a certain distance, where they could +not be seen, two persons on whom I could rely, to come to my +assistance upon a signal agreed on. I found at the place of +meeting a man wrapped in a cloak, and masked. He put some +papers into my hands, and said in a feigned undertone: ‘You +have my confidence; I will therefore contribute to the success of +M. the Prince de Rohan’s embassy. These papers will inform you +of the very essential services which it is in my power to render you. +If you approve of them, come again to-morrow to’ another place +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>which he mentioned, ‘and bring me a thousand ducats.’ On my +return to the Hôtel de France, I hastened to examine the papers +confided to me. Their contents gave me the most agreeable +surprise. I saw that we had it in our power to procure twice +a week copies of all the discoveries made by the secret cabinet +of Vienna, which was the best served cabinet in Europe. This +secret cabinet possessed in the highest degree the art of deciphering +quickly the despatches of ambassadors and of the governments with +whom they corresponded. I was convinced by the deciphering of +our own despatches and the despatches of our court to us—even +those written in the most complicated and the newest ciphers—that +this cabinet had found means to intercept and obtain copies of +the despatches of several European courts, through the treachery +and audacity of the frontier directors and postmasters, bribed for +that purpose.</p> + +<p>“Furnished with these documents and armed with unquestionable +proofs of their authenticity, I instantly went post haste to communicate +them to the ambassador. I laid before him the samples +of the political magazine, from which we might supply ourselves. +The Prince de Rohan felt the value of it, especially to himself personally, +inasmuch as this important discovery must necessarily +efface the unpleasant impressions which the Duke d’Aiguillon had +not failed to make upon the king’s mind, by representing to him +that Prince Louis, too frivolous, and too much taken up with the +pursuits of pleasure, was not so watchful at Vienna as the service +of the state required.</p> + +<p>“I met the masked man the following night, and gave him the +thousand ducats: when he handed to me other papers of increasing +interest, and during my whole stay at Vienna he faithfully performed +his promise. Our meetings took place twice a week, and +always about midnight. The ambassador wisely decided that the +occupation arising from this discovery should be confined to him +and to myself, with an old secretary whose discretion we knew +would stand any trial. The secretary was employed in copying for +our court the papers of the masked man, to whom we were obliged +to return them.</p> + +<p>“A courier extraordinary was at once despatched to Versailles +with the first-fruits of our newly-discovered treasure. He was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>ordered not to go to bed on his way, and to carry about his person +the special packet of secret despatches to the very end of his +journey. A separate letter communicated the manner in which +this disclosure had been made to us. Our courier returned +promptly, the bearer of a despatch from the Duke d’Aiguillon, +which contained this acknowledgment of the cardinal’s services: +‘I sincerely and feelingly share,’ said the minister, ‘both in the +satisfaction with which the king acknowledges your services, and +the credit which this discovery throws upon your mission.’ From +the time of this discovery an extraordinary courier was sent off +to Versailles every fortnight with new communications, and always +with the same precautions as before.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_77" href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Soulavie tells us it was through the Austrian ambassador at +Versailles, who, like the rest of his fraternity, had a whole host of +traitorous officials in his pay, that the court of Vienna got scent of +what was going on. The Prince von Kaunitz, suspecting that the +treachery was perpetrated in his office, had the locks of his cabinet +changed, and made a point of intrusting all the most important +despatches to no one except his private secretary. He even went +the length of having one of his clerks, of whom he entertained +some suspicion, drowned in the Danube; but all was of no avail; +the masked man, according to the Abbé Georgel, redoubled his zeal +at each succeeding interview.</p> + +<p>Two months after the death of Louis XV. the cardinal was +superseded in his post. He had hurried off to pay his court to +the new king at Compiègne, where he was not long in becoming +acquainted with the fact that the queen was his avowed enemy. +He obtained an audience of Louis XVI., but it was brief, and by no +means satisfactory. The king listened for a few minutes to the +cardinal’s explanations, and then abruptly said, “I will let you +know my pleasure.” As for Marie-Antoinette, she positively +declined to receive him, although he had a letter from her mother +the empress to deliver. The only notice she took of him was to +desire that this letter might be sent to her. As a last resource he +addressed a written communication to the king, which Louis XVI. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>did not condescend to answer. The cardinal had now no longer +any doubt that his disgrace was determined upon.</p> + +<p>Although his downfall was really to be ascribed to the joint animosity +of Maria Theresa and her daughter, the grounds publicly +put forward for it were these. “First, the public gallantries (at +Vienna) of Prince Louis with women of the court and others of less +distinction; secondly, his surliness and haughtiness towards other +foreign ministers, which it was stated would have been attended +with more serious consequences if the empress herself had not interfered; +thirdly, his contempt for religion in a country where it +was particularly necessary to show respect for it (he had been seen +frequently to dress himself in clothes of different colours, assuming +the hunting uniforms of various noblemen whom he visited, with +so much publicity that one day in particular, during the <i>Fête Dieu</i>, +he and all his legation, in green uniforms laced with gold, broke +through a religious procession which impeded them, in order to +make their way to a hunting party at the Prince von Paar’s); and +fourthly, the immense debts contracted by him and his people, +which were tardily and only in part discharged.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_78" href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>After the cardinal’s return to Paris from his Viennese mission, +although his manners may have mended somewhat, his morals remained +as loose as ever. He is reported to have kept up in +different quarters of the city various small establishments to which, +it is said, he was in the habit of retiring to emulate in secret the +vices of the Roman emperors. His conduct in public appears to +have been hardly more reputable, for one day the king when hunting +with the Count d’Artois in the neighbourhood of Fontainebleau, +came upon Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan with a handsome young +abbé, his hair elegantly dressed and powdered, seated beside him +in his carriage. The king remarked to his brother that the abbé +only required a little rouge to pass for a woman, but the more +quick-sighted Count d’Artois had already discovered that the pretended +abbé was a woman in disguise—none other, in fact, than +one of the cardinal’s mistresses—the notorious Marquise de +Marigny.⁠<a id="FNanchor_79" href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XI">XI.<br> +<span class="smcap">1784.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">PRETENDED MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE CARDINAL AND THE QUEEN.—A +FORGER ON THE PREMISES.—BILLETS-DOUX BORDERED WITH +“VIGNETTES BLEUES.”</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Before the close of spring in the year 1784, the Countess de la +Motte has effectually built up her grand fabrication. Although +she neglects no opportunity of giving out that the queen desires +this pretended intimacy to be kept a profound secret, yet, like most +other profound secrets, it becomes pretty generally known; the +imposture is established as a reality, and the Grand Almoner of +France has been caught in the net. This singularly credulous individual, +weighed down with places and honours, but ambitious of +more, is led to believe, quite as much by his own folly as the +countess’s craft, that a channel has at length been opened for his +reinstatement in the queen’s favour, and his elevation to the office +of prime minister. All the machinery set in motion by the impostor +and her confederates to make money by the abuse of the +queen’s name is now directed with both energy and skill upon the +Prince de Rohan, whose paternal hand is employed to diffuse the +charities of a kingdom upon those suppliants who best understand +how to represent their wants, and whose own annual revenue exceeds +a million of livres (£40,000).</p> + +<p>Gradually, step by step, the vigilant schemer advances, her +dupe’s fancy and conceit outstepping the measured tread of the +inventor, whose falsehoods are not poured forth fast enough to +fill the wide throat of this insatiable gull. First she assures him +that she has spoken and interceded for him with the queen, who +listened to her with attention but evident suspicion; but that +after having heard of several instances of his benevolence to herself +and other persons, the royal prejudice had given way. The +cardinal of course takes heart at this assurance, and waits resignedly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>for the happy progress of a negotiation which had opened +so promisingly. The countess thus describes this pretended interview +with Marie-Antoinette in her Memoirs:</p> + +<p>“In one of my interviews with her majesty, the queen inquired +how I had supported myself before I was introduced to her. This +was the moment for naming my benefactor, but it required some +caution, lest the queen should discover that I was deeper in his +confidence and counsels than it was proper for me to appear. I +attempted, if possible, to avoid giving the least cause for suspicion, +and expatiated largely, in general terms, on the cardinal’s beneficence, +charity, and benevolence; enumerated the services he had +rendered to almost every one that applied; that from his generosity +he had acquired the esteem he merited; and spoke with a grateful +warmth of the favours he had heaped upon me.</p> + +<p>“Her majesty regarded me with a curious and penetrating eye: +she paused for some minutes, and appeared buried in thought. +This was the first moment of my mentioning the cardinal’s name, +and I had an opportunity of reading in her majesty’s face such a +degree of aversion that gave me a very unfavourable omen of success: +the strength of her antipathy I was then first acquainted +with. At length, awakening from her reverie, she expressed her +surprise at the information I had given her. She did not think +the cardinal capable of such actions.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_80" href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In due time the grand almoner is informed that majesty has at +last relented, having been of course won over by the countess’s +continuous praises of him, and by her assurances that he was far +less culpable than he was represented to be by his enemies; that +he was full of penitence and remorse for any errors he might have +committed; that her majesty’s aversion to him was his constant +affliction; and that his health was yielding to this sorrow.</p> + +<p>“I am authorised by the queen,” the countess one day calmly +said to him, “to request you to furnish her with a written explanation +of the faults imputed to you.”</p> + +<p>In compliance with this demand, the cardinal delivered to +Madame de la Motte a lengthy exculpatory statement, the main +purport of which was to accuse his niece, the Princess de +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>Guéménée, of having intrigued to add to his disgrace at court +while pretending to act as intercessor on his behalf. From time +to time the princess appears to have allured him with specious +promises of his ultimate restoration to royal favour, and the kind +of return she exacted for her pretended good offices may be judged +of from the following passage, which, as will presently appear, +Madame de la Motte did not fail to note and profit by: “The +princess was sensible of the excessive joy she gave me,⁠<a id="FNanchor_81" href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> and availed +herself of it <i>to request of me the loan of a pretty considerable sum</i>. +I would have parted with my whole fortune, thinking myself too +happy in being useful to a woman to whom I was so greatly beholden. +The easy compliance she had met with enticed her to +make further demands, which I could not refuse, she always knowing +how to accompany them with hopes, with soothing promises, +and at the same time with difficulties she would find ways to +overcome.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_82" href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> It is inconceivable how, after feeling convinced that +he had been the dupe of one designing woman, the cardinal could +have been such a dotard as to have been again deluded by an +<i>intrigante</i> who used precisely the same arts, and who exacted from +him precisely the same kind of return. Such, however, was the +case.</p> + +<p>About three weeks after the delivery of his written justification +into the hands of Madame de la Motte, the grand almoner received +a note, bordered with “<i>vignettes bleues</i>” and purporting to be +written by Marie-Antoinette. This stated that she had read with +indignation of the manner in which he had been deceived by his +niece, assured him that she had forgotten all that had passed, and +desired him never again to make the slightest allusion to a matter +so unpleasant—a convenient way of tabooing a subject, the discussion +of which might have proved extremely embarrassing to the +countess, and have sooner or later exposed the fraud then being +practised upon the cardinal. The note wound up with the following +passage, the motive of which the reader will be at no loss to +divine: “The account which the countess has given me of your +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>behaviour towards her has made a stronger impression on me than +all that you have written to me. I hope that you will never forget +that it is to her you are indebted for your pardon.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_83" href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The plot thickens: all at once we find ourselves in deeper water. +Before we had false rumours and reports; now we have forged +letters. The cardinal having received the first one as genuine, +what is to prevent the success of others? Nothing, it would seem, +so long as the countess exercises her customary discretion. Letters +and replies thereupon follow each other in quick succession, +amounting in course of time to something like a couple of hundred +in number. Of these the countess pretended she preserved copies +of thirty-one, which she subsequently printed by way of appendix +to her autobiography. Judging from these samples, the communications +which, according to her assertions, passed between the +queen and the cardinal, were not merely tender and familiar, but +occasionally touched upon subjects that were positively indelicate.⁠<a id="FNanchor_84" href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It is needless to inform the reader that, so far as the letters attributed +to Marie-Antoinette are concerned, they were one and all +of them vile fabrications. They were penned, in fact, by the +prospective sub-lieutenant of the marshalsea, of whom we have +already spoken, Rétaux de Villette, who was attached to the +countess in the double capacity of “<i>cavalier servente</i>” and secretary, +and whose chief occupation seems to have consisted in forging +letters on gilt-edged paper, or paper bordered with blue flowers +(<i>vignettes bleues</i>). His <i>cabinet de travail</i> was madame’s bedchamber, +and he worked at a little table by the bedside, on which was a +writing-case with a stock of note-paper, such as the queen was +known to be in the habit of using.⁠<a id="FNanchor_85" href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> Monsieur de Villette resided +regularly under the De la Motte roof, for Jeanne de Saint-Remi, +Countess de Valois de la Motte, having considerable traffic in +forgery, found it necessary to keep a forger on the premises, just +as other people find it requisite to keep a secretary or a clerk.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span></p> + +<p>If we glance behind the scenes, we cannot help being impressed +by this daring woman’s strength of mind, which enables her to +work so calmly and leisurely while all the time the wolf is at the +door. Not only has she her idle husband and herself to support, +but there is at times her brother, whose pension she has sold, and +her “secretary,” and she not possessed of a single sou of regular +income! To add to all this, she is in debt to the landlord, the +tax-gatherer, and the tradespeople; duns are calling upon her +every hour—duns are even waiting in the ante-room while she is +dictating forged letters to Villette. Her own pension and that of +her brother being utterly gone, the family have literally no bread +to eat but that of charity, and the bread of charity is so scanty +and bitter that the descendant of the house of Valois has become a +liar and a forger, and is preparing to become a thief, in order to +add to and sweeten it. And all this while, with her thread of life +drawn, so to speak, to a single hair, she is the emblem of composure, +advancing “stealthily, steadfastly, with Argus eye and +ever-ready brain—with nerve of iron, on shoes of felt!” whilst +Cardinal Prince de Rohan, her father in years, who lives in palaces +surrounded by every luxury, holds one of the highest offices in the +state, is superior of numerous important religious establishments +and seigneur of countless manors, and has a revenue of upwards +of a million livres, is feverish with impatience.</p> + +<p>According to his usual practice, the Cardinal, with Versailles +and the Little Trianon closed against him, is spending the sultry +summer-time in retirement at his stately palace of Saverne, a huge +building of red sandstone in the Italian style of architecture, for +the most part newly erected by himself in place of a former edifice +consumed by fire a few years previously. At Saverne the Cardinal +Prince Louis de Rohan exercises all the authority of a petty sovereign, +and keeps up a well-nigh regal state. Gentlemen of high +birth do not disdain his service; and such is the prodigality that +rules in his establishment, that he has no less than fourteen +<i>maîtres d’hôtel</i> and twenty-five <i>valets de chambre</i>!⁠<a id="FNanchor_86" href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> Situated at the +foot of the eastern slope of the Vosges, and almost within sight of +the valley of the Rhine, Saverne has its upper and lower towns, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>in the former of which are situated the cathedral, the <i>chancellerie</i>, +the <i>hôtel de la régence</i>, the ancient château, and, adjoining this last, +the palatial residence of the once all-powerful De Rohans. The +principal front of this vast building looked over charming gardens, +laid out in the French style, with handsome terraces and arcades, +geometrically-shaped beds of brilliant flowers, trees trimmed to +pattern, green shady alleys, trellises covered with vines, arbours, +statues, fountains, rivulets, broad sheets of water, islands, grottos, +and kiosques, while beyond all this extended a beautiful park, at +the outskirts of which was a pheasantry, bounded by a dense +forest, whose glades in the pleasant autumn months were alive +with <i>piqueurs</i> and packs of dogs and sportsmen in the great gold +uniform of the cardinal, while the huntsman’s horn might be heard +incessantly resounding.</p> + +<p>The palace, on the garden side, presented one long façade +ornamented with fluted Corinthian pilasters and richly-carved +cornices and mouldings, and having countless windows of a uniform +character. Its somewhat unpleasing regularity was broken by a +projecting centre part with a row of open columns and balustrades, +which formed a kind of gallery, handsomely decorated in its different +stages with ornamental friezes, statues and bas-reliefs, and +having the elaborately-sculptured armorial bearings of the family +of De Rohan and its many alliances prominently displayed at +either end.⁠<a id="FNanchor_87" href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The principal entrance to the episcopal palace conducted to a +handsome vestibule, from whence the grand staircase led to the +magnificent suite of reception rooms where the Prince de Rohan, +banished from Versailles, assembled around him a little court of +his own, composed of some few members of the old nobility related +to his house, discontented courtiers who disliked the young queen, +certain too complaisant beauties, and <i>petits-maîtres</i> from the Paris +<i>salons</i>, philosophers, prelates, and provincial magnates, military +officers from the neighbouring garrison at Strasbourg, and the +usual complement of fools and flatterers that invariably dance +attendance on the powerful and the wealthy.</p> + +<p>The once stately palace of Saverne is now-a-days divested of all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>its former splendour. It serves alike for the <i>mairie</i>, the court of +the justice of the peace, and the corn-market; and as barracks, +guard-house, forage-stores, farriery, and stables for the troops composing +the garrison of the town.⁠<a id="FNanchor_88" href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In the summer of the year 1784 couriers bound for Paris would +every now and then sally forth from the palace gates with bags of +letters, among which there was invariably one elaborately-sealed +packet addressed to the Countess de la Motte. Enclosed in this +would be a letter for the queen, begging, entreating, praying for an +interview at which the writer might plead his cause and regain +complete possession of his royal mistress’s favour. Days and weeks +go by while he is waiting and watching for a response. Judge +however, of the cardinal’s agitation when one day the countess +herself arrives unexpectedly at Saverne—having travelled post all +the way from Paris—and announces to him that the long and +eagerly-sought interview is at length accorded to him; that the +queen has consented to a midnight meeting with him in the Park +of Versailles. The countess thought, and thought rightly, that a +journey of nearly three hundred miles, undertaken on purpose to +be the bearer of this welcome intelligence, would give it all the +greater weight, and would effectually dispel any unpleasant doubts +that might perchance by this time have taken possession of the +cardinal’s mind.⁠<a id="FNanchor_89" href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XII">XII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1784. June–July.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE COUNTERFEIT QUEEN.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Counterfeit <i>billets-doux</i> having been palmed off on the infatuated +cardinal as genuine with such complete success, the countess now +ventures on a singularly bold step, nothing less than the personation +of majesty itself, and actually succeeds in foisting upon the +purblind prelate <i>une belle courtisane</i> of the Palais Royal as the +beautiful, high-born Marie-Antoinette.</p> + +<p>This incident of the nocturnal interview—the most daring of the +many daring schemes of which the long intrigue was composed—is +so fully and clearly, and, moreover, so artlessly, described by the +“<i>fille du monde</i>,” who was bribed to perform the character of +Marie-Antoinette on the occasion, in her memorial published at the +time of the Necklace trial, as to completely exonerate the queen +from having been in any way a party to it. Prior, however, to +laying this statement before the reader, we have something to say +respecting the new character whom we are about to introduce upon +the scene.</p> + +<p>This young person, commonly known as Mademoiselle d’Oliva, +but whose real name was Leguay Designy, was born in Paris +in 1761, and was consequently younger than the queen by seven +years. Although her reputation was anything but spotless, she was +by no means the common creature she is ordinarily represented to +have been. M. Leguay Designy, her father, had been a respectable +citizen, who at his death was found to have saved money, and when +her mother died, a few years before the event which rendered the +daughter an object of so much notoriety, Mademoiselle Leguay +Designy was left with a competent provision deposited for her in +the hands of trustees. These guardians however abused their +trust, and after dissipating the bulk of the young woman’s property, +compromised the matter by the payment of four thousand +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>livres, which money she received in the early part of 1784, only a +few months before the day rendered memorable by the midnight +meeting in the park of Versailles.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Leguay Designy, in her memorial, drawn up by her +advocate, M. Blondel—who, perceiving that the very simplicity of +his client was her best defence, had the sagacity to let her tell her +story in her own way—thus describes how it was that she first became +acquainted with the De la Mottes, husband and wife.</p> + +<p>“In the month of June, 1784, I lodged,” she says, “in a small +apartment in the Rue du Jour, in the Quartier St. Eustache.⁠<a id="FNanchor_90" href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> I +was not very far from the Palais Royal, where I used frequently to +go of an afternoon for two or three hours with a neighbour’s child, +about four years old, of whom I was very fond.</p> + +<p>“One afternoon, in the month of July, when I was sitting in the +Palais Royal, this child being along with me, I observed a stranger +pass by several times; he was a tall young man, and quite alone. +He looked at me fixedly, and I noticed as he came near to me that +he slackened his pace as if to survey me more attentively. There +was a vacant chair two or three feet from mine, in which he seated +himself.</p> + +<p>“I could not avoid bestowing my attention upon him, for his +eyes kept repeatedly wandering over my person. The expression +of his countenance becomes grave and earnest, and he appears +agitated by a painful and anxious curiosity as he scans my entire +figure very narrowly, whilst not a feature of my face escapes him.</p> + +<p>“We met in this way in the gardens of the Palais Royal for +several successive days, until at last he addressed me, and I committed +the error of replying to him.</p> + +<p>“One evening on leaving him I returned home, when I found +that he had followed me without my perceiving it. Suddenly he +stood before me in my apartment. He introduced himself with +every sign of respectful politeness, and requested me to allow him +occasionally to visit me. I could not take upon myself to deny his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>request, and after obtaining my consent, he was most assiduous in +his calls. But I had no reason to complain of these visits, for the +young man never passed the limits of propriety. He questioned +me, however, with the kindest concern respecting my income and +future prospects, taking a lively interest in my fate. He also +spoke of powerful protectors of his own, to whom he could recommend +me, and who might be able to serve me.</p> + +<p>“Doubtless you are eager to know who this stranger was. It is +time to name him; it was M. de la Motte, who represented himself +to be an officer of distinguished rank, with great expectations, and +supported by illustrious patrons.⁠<a id="FNanchor_91" href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“It was, I think, on the occasion of his ninth visit, one morning +at the beginning of August, 1784,⁠<a id="FNanchor_92" href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> that I observed his countenance +overspread with joy and satisfaction, such as he had never +exhibited before. He had, he said, the most agreeable, the most +interesting things to tell me.</p> + +<p>“‘I have just left,’ continued he, ‘a person of very great +distinction, who spoke a great deal about you. I shall bring the +lady to see you this evening.’</p> + +<p>“I awaited that evening with eagerness, counting every hour +and every moment, for I longed to see this lady of very great distinction.</p> + +<p>“M. de la Motte returned at night, telling me that in a few +moments I should see the person about whom he had spoken in +the morning. Whereupon, and without any further explanation, +he withdrew.</p> + +<p>“Scarcely had he left me, before I saw a lady enter my chamber; +she was all alone—no servant was attending her. She approached +me with politeness, and with looks full of affability.</p> + +<p>“‘Madame,’ said she, smiling, ‘you must be rather surprised +at my visit, unknown to you as I am.’</p> + +<p>“I replied that the surprise could not be otherwise than agreeable +to me.</p> + +<p>“This person was the wife of my pretended patron; she was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>Madame de la Motte, but she took good care not to say so then. I +offered the lady a chair, she drew it herself close to my own, and +sat down. Then leaning over towards me, with a look at once +cautious and confiding, whilst her eye appeared to gleam with an +expression of benevolent regard, she said to me, in a low voice, +what I am about to relate.</p> + +<p>“‘Confide, my dear pet, in what I am going to say, I am a +gentlewoman belonging to the court.’</p> + +<p>“At the same time she drew out a pocket-book, and having +opened it, showed me several letters, which she declared to me +were written to her by the queen.</p> + +<p>“‘But, madame,’ answered I, ‘all this is a mystery to me; I +cannot understand it.’</p> + +<p>“‘You will soon understand it, my pet. I possess the queen’s +full confidence; we are like hand and glove together. She has +just given me another proof of this trust, by commissioning me to +find her a person to do something which will be explained at the +proper time. I have made choice of you, and, if you like to +undertake it, I will make you a present of 15,000 livres (francs); +but the present that you will receive from the queen will be much +more considerable. I cannot tell you my name just yet, but you +shall soon be informed who I am. If, however, you do not think +my word sufficient, and desire to have security for the 15,000 +livres, we will go directly to a notary’s.’”</p> + +<p>[In the following paragraph the pen of the advocate has +evidently been at work.]</p> + +<p>“Ye simple and trustful hearts, pause for a moment after reading +this artful speech from the boldest and most audacious +intriguer that ever lived. Fancy yourselves in my place, deign +to consider what my feelings must have been, what I must +have thought and imagined, I, a poor girl of twenty-three, unacquainted +with either intrigue or business. What would you +have said? What would you have done under similar circumstances?</p> + +<p>“From that moment I was no longer myself. I answered +Madame de la Motte that I should be proud to be able to do anything +that would be agreeable to the queen, without any motive of +personal interest to prompt me.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span></p> + +<p>“She replied immediately, ‘The Count de la Motte will call for +you to-morrow evening in a carriage, and will carry you to Versailles.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_93" href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The reader will not fail to observe the precision with which the +countess enters on her course of action; the quickness with which +she manages to come to the point. Her husband takes a fortnight +to bring about the introduction of his wife, while she settles everything +at a single interview.</p> + +<p>The next day the count, who is accompanied by Rétaux de +Villette, takes Mademoiselle Leguay to Versailles at the appointed +time, and leaves her with his wife in their apartments at the Hôtel +de la Belle Image, kept by the Sieur Gobert, and situated in the +Place Dauphine, at that time one of the most aristocratic quarters +of the royal town. This place is octagonal in shape, and the +houses, which range from four to five storeys high, all have some +sort of pretension about them; they have either open balustrades +running along the parapets, or carved cornices with enriched +mouldings surmounting the windows, or ornamental iron balconies. +Most of them too have large <i>portes cochères</i>. The Place, which in +Madame de la Motte’s days was a large open space, where the +public sedan-chairs—the <i>chaises bleues</i> and the <i>brouettes</i>—used to +ply for hire, is to-day laid out as a flower garden, and has in the +centre a bronze statue of General Hoche, after whom the Place is +now named. The house where the countess lodged was formerly +known as “La Belle Image,” but it no longer preserves its sign. +It is, however, easily recognisable, being the first house (No. 8)⁠<a id="FNanchor_94" href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> in +the angle on the right hand, on entering the Place from the Rue +Hoche. All the apartments, with the exception of the attics, must +have been of a superior class. Now-a-days the ground floor is +appropriated to a “Magasin Anglais,” where English cutlery, and +needles and pins, and reels and balls of cotton, and patent +medicines and pickles, and old brown Windsor soap, and biscuits +are exposed for sale. To return, however, to Mademoiselle +Leguay, whose memorial thus proceeds:</p> + +<p>“It was only then I learnt the name and condition of Madame +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>de la Motte, that she was the wife of Count de la Motte, that she +went by the title of Countess de Valois at Versailles, and that the +queen used to write to her in that name.”</p> + +<p>The <i>belle courtisane</i> of the Palais Royal, whose resemblance to +Marie-Antoinette is said to have been singularly striking,—she was +remarkable for the elegance of her figure, had blue eyes and chestnut-coloured +hair⁠<a id="FNanchor_95" href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a>⁠—is now dressed and tricked out in coquettish +<i>négligé</i>—a white robe <i>en chemise</i>, bordered and lined with rose +colour, and a white lace hood—for the famous interview which the +Cardinal de Rohan had so earnestly solicited of the queen, with +whom the miserable dupe flattered himself he had been all this while +corresponding. The memorial continues:</p> + +<p>“Madame de la Motte delivered to me a small note, folded in the +usual way, but without telling me either what it contained or to +whom it was addressed, or even by whom it was written. Neither +she nor her husband spoke to me on the subject. Madame de la +Motte merely said, ‘I will take you this evening into the park, +and you will deliver this letter to a great nobleman whom you +will meet there.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_96" href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIII">XIII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1784. July.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE MIDNIGHT INTERVIEW.—“YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS.”</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The memorial of the Demoiselle Leguay Designy thus proceeds:—</p> + +<p>“Between eleven and twelve o’clock I went out with Monsieur +and Madame de la Motte. I had on a white mantle and a white lace +hood. I do not remember whether I carried a fan in my hand or not; +I cannot say for certain. The small note was in my pocket.</p> + +<p>“They took me into the park; there a rose was put into my +hand by Madame de la Motte, who said to me: ‘You will give this +rose, along with the letter, to the person who shall present himself +to you, and say to him these words:—You know what this means? +The queen will be there to see how your meeting passes off; she +will speak to you. She is there yonder, and will be close behind +you. You shall presently speak to her yourself.’</p> + +<p>“These last words made such an impression on me, that I +trembled from head to foot. I could not help telling them so: I +observed to them that I did not know I was to speak to the queen. +I asked them, in a stammering voice, what was the proper mode of +form of speech.... M. de la Motte answered me: ‘You must always +say, Your majesty.’</p> + +<p>“I need hardly, I think, break off here to declare that, far from +having had the honour of speaking to the queen, or her having +done me the honour to speak to me, I did not even see her at all....</p> + +<p>“We were still walking along when M. de la Motte met a man, +to whom he said: ‘Ah! is that you?’... Afterwards, when I +dined with the La Mottes, I recognised in Villette, their friend, +the same person who was thus addressed by M. de la Motte....</p> + +<p>“Madame de la Motte then accompanied me to a hedge of yoke +elms, leaving me there whilst she went to fetch the great nobleman +to whom I was to speak.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span></p> + +<p>“I remained waiting.... The noble unknown came up, bowing as +he approached me, whilst Madame de la Motte stood aside a few paces +off, and appeared to watch the scene. I knew not who the great nobleman +was, and although the Cardinal de Rohan now acknowledges +that he was the person, I am still ignorant upon the point.</p> + +<p>“It was a dull night, not a speck of moonlight; nor could I distinguish +anything but those persons and objects which were familiar +to me. It would be quite impossible for me to describe the state +I was in. I was so agitated, so excited, so disconcerted, and so +tremulous, that I cannot conceive how I was able to accomplish even +half of what I had been instructed to do.</p> + +<p>“I offered the rose to the great nobleman, and said to him, ‘You +know what this means,’ or something very similar. I cannot affirm +whether he took it or let it fall. As for the letter it remained in +my pocket; I had entirely forgotten it.</p> + +<p>“As soon as I had spoken, Madame de la Motte came running up +to us, saying in a low hurried voice: ‘Quick, quick, come away!’</p> + +<p>“I left the stranger, and after proceeding a few steps found myself +with M. de la Motte, whilst his wife and the unknown went off +together and were lost to our view. Count de la Motte conducted +me back to the hotel, where we sat talking together until the return +of his lady.</p> + +<p>“She came home about two in the morning, when I explained to +her that I had forgotten to give the note. I was afraid she would +have scolded me for this negligence, but instead of doing so she +evinced the greatest satisfaction, assuring me she had just left the +queen, and that her majesty was in the highest degree delighted +with my performance.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_97" href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Such appears to have been the famous scene in the park of +Versailles at midnight, when the Prince de Rohan, deluded by an +artful woman, was fain to believe that he had been honoured with +an interview with the Queen of France, and might soon expect to +be openly received at court. The countess knew perfectly well +that the cheat would run the risk of being detected if the dialogue +were suffered to proceed too far, she therefore frightened away her +dupes almost as soon as she had brought them together.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span></p> + +<p>The Countess de la Motte’s own account of this interview in the +park of Versailles, though at variance with that given by Mademoiselle +d’Oliva, nevertheless agrees sufficiently with it to prove +that the statement of the latter was perfectly sincere. The +countess alleges that the idea of practising this deception upon the +cardinal originated with Marie-Antoinette herself—that the choice +of the actress who was to personate her, the place appointed for the +interview, the young girl’s embarrassment before the meeting, were +all known at the time to the queen, who was present in an adjoining +arbour.</p> + +<p>Nay, more. According to the same account, the Cardinal de +Rohan was also privy to the trick played upon himself, and +connived at the deceit in order to humour her majesty. Madame +de la Motte’s narrative of the transaction is too long to be +transcribed throughout, but it concludes in this manner:—</p> + +<p>“The poor girl was dressed and adorned like a shrine.... +Judging from the questions she had put to me since her arrival at +Versailles, it was easy to see that she expected some great adventure, +and had made her preparations accordingly.... Nothing +could be more diverting than the embarrassment of this creature, +whose real anxiety was about the issue, since she knew she was going +to play her part before the queen.</p> + +<p>“The scene was the arbour at the lower end of the grass-plot. +This arbour is encompassed on its left-hand path by a hedge of +hornbeam, supported by a strong lattice-work fence. At a distance +of three feet from the inner part of the arbour is a second hedge, +and the space between the two quicksets forms a walk which leads +round the enclosure without conducting to the arbour itself.</p> + +<p>“At the hour appointed I gave the signal by putting into +Mademoiselle d’Oliva’s hand the rose which Marie-Antoinette had +told me to deliver to the cardinal through her means. Having +placed her at her post, I withdrew. The queen was not ten paces +from me. I was distressed by d’Oliva’s timidity, and the queen +doubtless experienced the same feeling, for in spite of all her +reserve and watchfulness she could not contain herself, but cried out: +‘Take courage. Don’t be afraid!’ D’Oliva admitted this in her examination. +The cardinal having come up, the conversation began.</p> + +<p>“The cardinal, whose mind was at ease, since he was in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>secret, exerted himself to compose the poor girl, by putting none +but simple questions to her, and saying courteous things. What +chiefly disconcerted her was, that he spoke of former errors forgiven, +of his gratitude, and made fine promises for the future. Of +all this she understood nothing, answering Yes or No at random. +But the cardinal took advantage of these monosyllables to dwell +upon his happiness with exaggeration, saying the prettiest things +in the world ... raising her foot at the close of this speech, and +respectfully kissing it. It was then Mademoiselle d’Oliva gave him +the rose, which he placed against his heart, protesting that he +would preserve this token all his life, and calling it the rose of +happiness.</p> + +<p>“Everything having been said that was to be said, I came +forward hurriedly, and announced that Madame and the Countess +d’Artois were approaching the spot. Every one vanished with +lightning-like rapidity. D’Oliva returned to the seat where my +husband was expecting her, the cardinal having rejoined the +Baron de Planta, whom he had left at some distance on the watch, +came, accompanied by him, to me, and induced me to follow him +beyond the avenue, behind which he stopped to see the queen pass. +Having caught sight of her as she was stealing out from the corner +of the grass-plot and taking the walk leading to the terrace, he +urged me to follow her majesty, and try to ascertain whether she +was satisfied. Accordingly I did follow her, with light measured +steps, and having overtaken her at the entrance to the château, +she made me go in along with her, told me in substance that she +had been much diverted, paid me a few compliments on my own +account, and enjoined me not to tell the cardinal that I had seen +her that evening.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_98" href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In this account there is much that is false, and but little that is +true. A counterfeit queen, and no other, was present at the interview. +The cardinal was imposed upon by the trick to which of +course he was not privy; and having left the park with the full +conviction that he had spoken to his sovereign, was committed +to the tender mercies of the countess and her confederates, who +quickly proceeded to plunder him of his money.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIV">XIV.<br> +<span class="smcap">1784. July–Nov.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">A GOLDEN HARVEST.—HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF.—BARONESS D’OLIVA +IS GIVEN THE COLD SHOULDER.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The evening following that on which the cardinal was so cleverly +duped, young Beugnot happening to find himself in the neighbourhood +of the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, looked in at the countess’s +hôtel on the chance of finding her at home. At this period it was +no longer a spacious <i>appartement</i> that she rented, but the entire +house; and yet, with the view of deceiving the cardinal, on whose +bounty she was now in a large measure dependent, whenever he +called upon her she used invariably to receive him in some mean +apartment on one of the upper floors.⁠<a id="FNanchor_99" href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> “I was told,” says Beugnot, +“that the master and mistress were absent, and that only Mademoiselle +Colson was within. This made me the more inclined to +stay. Mademoiselle Colson was a relation of Madame de la Motte’s, +whom madame had qualified for and raised to the rank of <i>dame de +compagnie</i>. She was wanting neither in wit nor malice, and whenever +I met her we always made a point of laughing together at the +foolishness and extravagance of the heads of the house. They used +to tell her nothing; nevertheless she managed to find out everything. +‘I think,’ she remarked to me on this occasion, ‘that their +royal highnesses are occupied with some grand project. They pass +their time in secret counsels, to which the first secretary (Villette) +is alone admitted. His reverence the second secretary (Father +Loth) is consequently reduced to listening at the door: he makes +three journeys a day to the Rue Vieille-du-Temple (to the Palais-Cardinal), +without guessing a single word of the messages they +confide to him. The monk is inconsolable at this, since he is as +curious as an old devotee.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span></p> + +<p>“We passed two hours in thus slandering our neighbours and in +making guesses and prophesying. When I wished to leave, Mademoiselle +Colson pointed to the clock: it was midnight, and there +was no chance of finding a <i>voiture</i> on the stand. Since I had remained +so long, the only thing to do now, she said, was to await +the return of Madame de la Motte, who would send me home in +her carriage. I consented. Between twelve and one o’clock we +heard the sound of a vehicle entering the court, and saw alight +from it Monsieur and Madame de la Motte, Villette, and a woman +from twenty-five to thirty years of age—a blonde, very pretty, and +of a remarkably fine figure. The two women were dressed with +elegance, but simplicity; the men wore <i>dress-coats</i>, and had the +air of having just returned from a country party. They began by +joking me on my <i>tête-à-tête</i> with Mademoiselle Colson, and spoke +of the regret we must both have felt at having been so soon disturbed. +They talked any amount of nonsense together, laughed, +hummed, and seemed as if they could not keep their legs still. +The stranger shared the common mirth, but she restrained herself +within due bounds, and displayed a certain timidity. They seated +themselves at table, the merriment continued, it increased, and +finally became noisy. Mademoiselle Colson and I wore dull and +astonished looks, such as one is forced to put on in the presence of +very gay people when one is ignorant of what they are laughing at. +Meanwhile the party indulging in this excess of hilarity seemed inconvenienced +by our presence, as it prevented them from speaking +openly of the subject of their mirth. M. de la Motte consulted +Villette as to whether there would be any risk in speaking. +Villette replied that ‘he did not admit the truth of the adage that +one is betrayed only by one’s own people; in fact, anybody and +everybody were ready to betray you, and discretion——’ Here +Madame de la Motte, by whose side the first secretary was sitting +at table, suddenly put her hand on his mouth, and said in an imperative +tone: ‘Hold your tongue; M. Beugnot is too upright a +man for your confidence.’ I give her own words without changing +a syllable. The compliment would have been a flattering one if +the countess had not been ordinarily in the habit of using the +words ‘upright man’ and ‘fool’ as though they were synonymous.</p> + +<p>“Madame de la Motte, following her usual practice whenever I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>was present, turned the conversation upon Bar-sur-Aube and on +my family, and inquired when I contemplated returning thither. +Every one was wishing the supper to come to an end. I asked +Madame de la Motte to lend me her horses to take me home. +She raised only a slight difficulty: it was necessary that she +should send home the stranger, and eventually decided that the +one living farthest off should set down the other on the way. I +objected to this arrangement, and asked permission of the lady to +escort her to whatever quarter she lived in, expressing my regret +at the same time that however distant this might be, it would still +be too near. This woman’s countenance had at the first glance +caused me that kind of uneasiness which one feels when one is +conscious of having seen a person before, but cannot remember +when or where. I addressed several questions to her on our way, +but was unable to draw anything out of her; either Madame de +la Motte, who had spoken to her in private before her departure, +had recommended her to be discreet with me, or, what seemed +more probable, she had naturally more inclination for holding her +tongue than for talking. I set down my silent companion in the +Rue de Cléry. The uneasiness which I felt in her presence was, I +afterwards called to mind, due to her striking resemblance to the +queen. The lady proved to be no other than Mademoiselle d’Oliva, +and the mirth of my companions was occasioned by the complete +success of the knavish trick which they had played off only the +night before in the park of Versailles upon the Cardinal de +Rohan.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_100" href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>This meeting, at which the cardinal was so cleverly fooled, took +place, be it remembered, either at the end of July—the countess +fixes it on the 28th—or at the commencement of August. His +eminence the cardinal was so much elated with his good fortune, +in having thus recovered, as he hoped, the favour of the queen, +and felt so well assured that he was now in a fair way of becoming +prime minister, the great object of his ambition, that the Countess +de la Motte resolved at once to reap the first-fruits of his fond +hallucination. So great was her decision of character, so thorough +her assurance, so precise and prompt her mode of action, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>that before many days had elapsed she had applied for, by means +of a billet bordered with <i>vignettes bleues</i>, penned of course by the +forger Villette—and obtained the moderate sum of 50,000 livres, +in the queen’s name, assuring her dupe that the queen required +the loan for certain charitable purposes.⁠<a id="FNanchor_101" href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a> Ere another three +months had gone by, by the aid of another forged billet purporting +to have been penned by the queen, madame succeeded in obtaining +100,000 livres more. Both these amounts she received at the +hands of the cardinal’s equerry, the Baron de Planta. Thus the +Prince de Rohan, who in the month of July had been duped by an +interview with a counterfeit queen, had been swindled, ere the +year had gone by, out of no less a sum than 150,000 livres, or +£6,000 sterling.</p> + +<p>This is all the more extraordinary, and only proves the intensity +of the infatuation under which the old dotard must have been +labouring, for no very long time previously there had been much +talk within the purlieus of the court of a daring act of swindling, +perpetrated by means of a scandalous misuse of the queen’s name, +which ought to have put him on his guard. It seems that one +Béranger, a <i>fermier-général</i> had been induced to advance a sum of +200,000 livres, to a certain Madame Cahouet de Villers, a lady +said to be in attendance on the queen, for the use as he believed +of her royal mistress. When first the lady applied to him, M. +Béranger observed that he should be proud to furnish the sum required, +provided her majesty would condescend to say one word to +him—only one little word. But the lady only laughed at his unreasonable +demand. If the queen, she said, chose to apply in so +open a manner, of course the contents of every strong box in the +kingdom would be at her disposal. Then where would be the +merit of lending so small a sum on such security?</p> + +<p>Poor Béranger was ashamed of himself for having been so unreasonable, +and consented to lend the money if the queen would +only show him by a look, or even by a nod, that she desired it. +This compact was agreed upon.</p> + +<p>A few days afterwards, therefore, when the queen with her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>train of ladies had to pass along the famous Galérie des Glaces at +Versailles on some occasion of pleasure, the cautious <i>fermier-général</i> +posted himself in a quiet corner where he could be seen, +and by-and-by Marie-Antoinette swept by full of “nods and becks +and wreathed smiles,”—cunningly provoked by some smart observations +made by Madame Cahouet de Villers, and which the +delighted financier applied entirely to himself. A few hours +afterwards the two hundred thousand francs were handed to the +lady in question. The duped <i>fermier-général</i>, who, when the affair +came to be commonly known, was toasted as a gallant financier at +all parties and in all societies for a month or two afterwards, +ultimately put the affair into the hands of the police, and my lady +was arrested and sent to Sainte-Pélagie, whilst her husband was +brought to ruin through having to reimburse the <i>fermier-général</i> +the amount of which he had been defrauded.</p> + +<p>The above transpired in 1777. Five years later another imposture +of a somewhat similar character was brought to light, but +owing to its having been comparatively harmless in its results, it +did not make any particular noise. A female boasted that she was +honoured with the confidence of the queen, and exhibited letters—sealed +with a seal belonging to Marie-Antoinette which had been +stolen off a table in the apartment of the Duchess de Polignac—inviting +her to Trianon. She gave out that she could influence +the favour of the Princess de Lamballe, and pretended that she +had been the means of disarming the resentment of the Princess +de Guéménée (the Cardinal de Rohan’s niece) and Madame de +Chimay against Madame de Roquefeuille. Here we have the same +falsehoods, the same sort of dupes, the same farce, and, what is +strangest of all, the same name; for the impostor of 1782 was also +named De la Motte!—Marie-Josephe-Françoise Waldburg-Frohberg, +wife of Stanislas-Henri-Pierre de la Motte, formerly administrator +and inspector of the royal college of La Flèche.⁠<a id="FNanchor_102" href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> Thus does +history, even in its most insignificant byways, repeat itself.</p> + +<p>For some time after the incident of the midnight interview, +Mademoiselle Leguay Designy was a constant visitor at the De la +Mottes’ both at Paris and Versailles, and subsequently at their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>country house at Charonne; for immediately the countess had +gathered the first-fruits of her successful fraud a <i>petite maison de +campagne</i> was added to their other establishments. The demoiselle +of the Palais Royal was presented to the somewhat mixed company +she met on these occasions under the title of the Baroness d’Oliva, +which the countess had herself conferred upon her, deriving, it is supposed, +“Oliva” from “Olisva,” an anagram of “Valois.” We learn +from her that at the De la Motte table, which was served, by-the-way, +by footmen in elegant liveries, there were to be seen officers +of rank, such as the Baron de Villeroy, chevaliers of St.-Louis and +of Malta, retired notaries and their wives, a relative of madame’s, +one Valois, a bootmaker, Rétaux de Villette, the countess’s secretary, +and Father Loth, her <i>homme d’affaires</i>,—altogether a +tolerably free-and-easy sort of society, we have no manner of +doubt.</p> + +<p>On one occasion the Baroness d’Oliva accompanied the Countess +de la Motte, the Baron de Villeroy, and Rétaux de Villette to the +Théâtre Français to see Beaumarchais’ comedy, “The Marriage of +Figaro,” then running its hundred nights; but as time wore on, +the countess became less pressing in her invitations, and the intercourse +between the two ladies grew gradually less intimate, until +some time in the ensuing November, when the Countess de la +Motte and the Baroness d’Oliva were no longer on visiting terms. +With regard to the 15,000 livres which the counterfeit queen was +to have received for her single night’s performance, and on the +strength of which brilliant engagement she had contracted debts +which were a source of great future embarrassment to her, this is +what she says to the countess in her “Mémoire:”—</p> + +<p>“Some days after your return from Versailles, you and your +husband came at midnight in a <i>voiture de place</i> to the Rue de Jour, +and gave me four hundred livres on account.</p> + +<p>“On another day you came to me in the evening in your carriage, +having only your footman with you, and gave me seven +golden louis.</p> + +<p>“Another day you drove up to my door in your carriage and +sent your footman to inquire for me. I came down and saw Father +Loth and the Baron de Villeroy with you in the carriage. I asked +you for four hundred livres, which I wanted to pay to Gentil, my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>upholsterer. Some days afterwards, Father Loth called for me, and +we went together to Gentil and paid him the money.</p> + +<p>“On another occasion your friend Villette brought me three +hundred livres from you.</p> + +<p>“Another day I sent my servant to you, according to previous +arrangement, when you paid her three thousand francs in notes of +one thousand francs each.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_103" href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Thus it will be seen that she was only paid 4,268 of the 15,000 +livres promised to her, and that by bit-by-bit instalments. Schemers +and sharpers, if they had gold mines at their disposal, would never +pay in any other way.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XV">XV.<br> +<span class="smcap">1784. Nov.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">GRAND DOINGS AT BAR-SUR-AUBE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The sudden possession of a large sum of money produced in the +countess an invincible desire to return for a time to Bar-sur-Aube, +where a few years previously she had suffered so much poverty, but +where she could now display a little pomp. Late in the autumn of +1784, young Beugnot received a very amiable letter from Madame +de la Motte, in which she announced to him that having several +days to spare, she was about to spend them at Bar-sur-Aube with +her friends. “She informed me, in an easy off-hand manner,” observes +the count, “that she had sent in advance her carriage and +saddle-horses, which would be five days on the road, as she had been +recommended not to fatigue them, and that she herself would +arrive two days afterwards. She apprised her sister-in-law, Madame +de la Tour, of her coming in much the same terms, and gave her +certain particular directions as to the lodging of herself and suite. +Madame de la Tour came to me quite bewildered, and asked me +what it all meant, to which I replied that I was as much in the +dark as she was. Having compared letters, we agreed that there +was a mystification of the worst kind about the affair, but resolved +that we would not be duped, and that no preparations should be +made for lodging the princess and her suite, and moreover that we +would both preserve strict silence with reference to the letters we +had received.</p> + +<p>“How great was our joint astonishment when on the appointed +day we beheld a large heavily-laden waggon, drawn by a fine +team, and followed by two led horses of great value, drive into +the town. A steward who arrived with the waggon instantly gave +orders for more provisions than would have sufficed to victual the +best house in the town for a period of six months. People stared +at each other when they met in the streets, and wondered what this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>new chapter in the ‘Arabian Nights’ could possibly mean, and +were still wondering when the Count and Countess de la Motte, +preceded by two outriders in handsome liveries, drove leisurely +through the main street of Bar-sur-Aube in a very elegant <i>berline</i>.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_104" href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> +Two years before they had left the place with borrowed +money and no other clothes but those they had on; now they +returned in their own carriage, with their couriers and saddle-horses, +and actually required a waggon to convey their wardrobe!</p> + +<p>The town of Bar-sur-Aube, on the banks of the river, the name +of which it bears, is built partly on the slope of a mountain and +partly in a valley, and has on its mountain side the remains of +some extensive Roman fortifications said to have been constructed +by Cæsar during his invasion of Gaul. In by-gone times the town +was encompassed by a massive stone wall, and had its moats, ramparts, +and four ancient gateways, with a garrison of arquebusiers +and militiamen. Its fortifications, however, have been long since +demolished, and pleasant gardens now occupy their site. At the +present day Bar-sur-Aube boasts several ancient churches and +chapels containing handsome carved altar-pieces, and many curious +antique monuments, and has also its convents, hospitals, college, +and theatre.</p> + +<p>The one object of historical interest that commonly attracts the +attention of strangers is the little Gothic chapel in the centre of the +old stone bridge of seven arches which spans the river Aube, built +to mark the spot where, upwards of four centuries since, Charles +VII. caused the Bastard de Bourbon, chief of the gang of <i>écorcheurs</i> +(flayers)—so called because they stripped the unfortunate +wretches that chanced to fall into their hands of every particle of +clothing, and who had for a long time ravaged the Champagne—to +be sewn up in a sack and drowned in the river beneath. In the old +parts of the town the houses are chiefly of wood, and some of the +more picturesque among them have large figures of saints forming +their supports. Most of those erected during the last eighty or +ninety years, however, are built entirely of stone. The outskirts +of Bar-sur-Aube are planted with trees, and laid out in public +walks, gardens, and orchards; beyond which a chain of low hills, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>covered with vines or dense plantations of foliage, gives a picturesque +aspect to the surrounding country. Owing to the favourable +situation of the town and the productive nature of the adjacent +districts, Bar-sur-Aube does an extensive trade in various kinds of +grain, horses, cattle, wine, brandy, fruit, wool, leather, linen, iron, +glass, pottery, and stone and timber for building purposes.</p> + +<p>Bar-sur-Aube has something of a history of its own, for it has +been the scene of several stirring historical events. It was occupied +by the Romans during their invasion of Gaul, was ravaged by +Attila, and was pillaged by our own Edward III. in 1360. About +four centuries later the inhabitants of Bar-sur-Aube welcomed with +great display Louis the Well-Beloved when he passed through the +town on his return from the siege of Fribourg. In January, 1814, +the Allies, then marching upon Paris, appeared before Bar-sur-Aube, +and after a series of hard-fought engagements forced Marshal +Mortier, who held the town, to beat a rapid retreat under cover of +the night. While in the occupation of the Allies, a conference of +the ministers of the different powers was held at Bar-sur-Aube, +when Lord Castlereagh resolutely refused all subsidies to the vacillating +Bernadotte unless he agreed to support Marshal Blucher with +two <i>corps d’armée</i>, and so enable the Allies to continue their march +upon Paris. At this period there were three crowned heads, the +Emperors of Russia and Austria, and the King of Prussia, installed +in comparatively humble lodgings in this second-rate provincial +town. After the battle of Montmirail, on the 11th of February, +the Allies, who were retreating, turned and made a stand, and +compelled the French army to retire across the river Aube. On +this occasion the town was twice taken and retaken after several +severe engagements. In the year following, about three weeks +after the battle of Waterloo, the Allies, to the number of 200,000 +strong, again appeared before Bar-sur-Aube. This time there was +no enemy to face them, so they quietly took possession of the +place, and levied heavy contributions on the inhabitants, leaving a +garrison of a couple of thousand men behind them, when they pursued +their unopposed march upon Paris.⁠<a id="FNanchor_105" href="#Footnote_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span></p> + +<p>The De la Mottes spend several weeks at Bar-sur-Aube, give +grand dinner and supper parties to those who consent to visit them, +discharge all their debts with the cardinal’s money, and assume all +the airs of genuine nobility. Most of the inhabitants eat their +meat and drink their wine without instituting any curious inquiries +as to the source of their strange prosperity; but there was +one whose piercing intelligence penetrated every outward vanity, +whose keen eye discerned the truth then more distinctly than +others have done since, after the exposure of a long trial by the +Court of Parliament, and the still more searching investigations of +fifty historians. This sagacious man was M. de la Tour, who had +married the count’s sister. When he dined at the De la Motte +table, the countess herself, to whom all others submitted, quailed +beneath his cutting sarcasms.</p> + +<p>“I chanced to be alone with M. de la Tour,” says Beugnot, +“on the day of Madame de la Motte’s arrival. ‘Am I not a +thousand times right,’ said he to me, ‘when I assert that Paris +contains the worst persons in the world? In what other place, I +ask you, would this little vixen and her big lanky husband have +been able to obtain by swindling the things which they are displaying +before our astonished eyes? Your good father excepted’—Beugnot’s +father, it will be remembered, had lent the De la +Mottes a thousand livres a few years previously—‘whom would +they have found here willing to lend them a crown? and yet in +half an hour they have unpacked more silver plate than there is +in the whole town besides, not even excepting the chalices and +ornaments of the altar.’... ‘Do you not know,’ remarked I, +‘that Madame de la Motte is protected by the queen?’ ‘I’ll say +nothing as to the queen’s protection,’ replied La Tour. ‘Between +you and me, the wife of our lord the king is not the most prudent +person in the world; still she is not such a fool as to have anything +to do with people of their stamp, I warrant.’”</p> + +<p>The evening after the De la Mottes’ arrival they gave a supper +to a few intimate friends, which, according to Beugnot, would have +been considered magnificent for any kind of guests even in Paris. +“Although the town of Bar-sur-Aube,” observes he, “is one of the +most ancient cities of the Gauls, never perhaps had such luxury +been seen in it before, not even when Cæsar did it the honour of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>stopping there to hang—as they say—the mayor and councillors +of that epoch. Faithful to an understanding we had previously +come to, La Tour and I ate with good appetites, and without taking +particular notice of anything, as though, in fact, we were both +accustomed to such festivities. We kept the conversation in our +own hands, taking care to confine it to subjects which rendered it +difficult for the most expert talker to interpose a remark in praise +of any of the things spread before us. M. de la Motte did not like +this; he wished to make us admire the dinner-service, which was +of a new pattern, and of very fine workmanship. La Tour contended +that services of this kind had been known for a very long +time, but had gone out on account of their clumsiness. The <i>nil +admirari</i> was persevered in with respect to everything, and to the +very end.</p> + +<p>“At last Madame de la Motte thought she had found grace in +our eyes in praising a fowl, one of the finest which had just been +removed from the table, informing us at the same time that she +had ordered the courier to bring her a supply of this kind of +poultry so long as she remained at Bar-sur-Aube, because to her +taste ordinary country fowls were not eatable. ‘I ask your +pardon, madam,’ interposed La Tour, in a serious tone, ‘but I +am by no means of your opinion. I consider a country capon such +as you have been speaking of, when properly fattened, to be vastly +superior to all your Normandy and Mans cocks and pullets, the +flesh of which is soft, insipid, and dripping with fat. But after the +capon has been fed on a good plan, it must be roasted in a proper +manner, and for this purpose I care little about the jack. I very +much prefer to have the spit turned by a boy of the family, or even +by a dog.’</p> + +<p>“Madame de la Motte lost patience at the sort of honour paid +to her by her husband’s relation before four tall footmen who had +been brought from Paris clothed in liveries covered with gold lace. +‘Sir,’ said she to La Tour, in a spiteful manner, ‘I feel edified at +your preference; it is the result of a country taste which we know +you carry to its fullest extent.’ ‘I agree with you there, madam,’ +replied La Tour; ‘country taste or family taste are much the +same, and you know, madam, I value one just as much as I do the +other.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span></p> + +<p>“This conversation shortened supper. ‘How do you think I +have paid my score?’ inquired La Tour of me in a low tone of +voice. ‘You have been almost too liberal,’ replied I. ‘Not at +all; only I was resolved to put down both husband and wife should +they have the impertinence to ask me to admire anything. The +masquerade which has commenced this evening is a sort of triumph +for these people, and I reserve for myself the part of the soldier +who on the way tells wholesome truths to the hero of the festival!’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_106" href="#Footnote_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Madame de la Motte called Beugnot into her room, and began +complaining to him of the insolence of her husband’s brother-in-law. +“She told me,” says Beugnot, “that her fortune had changed, that +she was now in a good position, both as regarded herself and those +belonging to her, and that we were all interested in adopting a +different manner towards her. She hinted something of the very +high connection she was keeping up at Versailles, and ended by +remarking that she did not think she could remain with us the +fortnight she had promised herself. I proffered her a first example +of the new style of behaviour which she desired by not asking her +a single question. I merely undertook to beg her brother-in-law +to be more prudent for the future, without, however, anticipating +much success from my intervention.”</p> + +<p>The third day of the countess’s sojourn at Bar-sur-Aube was +occupied by her in paying visits to people in the neighbourhood. +She dressed herself out with all the taste which can result from an +excess of magnificence, her robes being of the finest Lyons embroidery, +and she herself sparkling with diamonds. She had, moreover, +a complete set of topazes, which she also took care to display. +“She made herself,” says Beugnot, “almost ridiculously engaging +and familiar with the neighbouring nobility and gentry. Great +and small were alike enchanted with her. They returned her +visits, but when she wished to go further, and give some little fêtes, +the respectable women of the place excused themselves under various +pretexts, and Madame de la Motte found herself reduced to the +young men and the women of her husband’s family, so thorough +was the respect for manners at this time in a little provincial town. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>‘Madame de la Motte,’ said these good ladies to me, ‘is a charming +woman, and we like her very much; but why do you wish us to +give our girls ideas of which they have no need, and which will +perhaps awaken in them desires they can never gratify?’</p> + +<p>“I was wanting,” resumes Beugnot, “neither in respect nor discretion +towards Madame de la Motte. She seemed to have +completely forgotten our old relations, and on this point I was in +unison with her. I had become to her simply a well-bred man with +whom she could speak on any subject. She told me of the secret +vexations she endured through the deplorable position of her +husband’s family. I consoled her as well as I could, always +observing to her that a residence in a little town was in her case +quite a mistake—that she ought to have an hôtel at Paris and +a château in the country. She replied that she did not wish +to buy land, because she was about to obtain the estates belonging +to her family, on which she proposed to build. The hôtel in Paris +she allowed to pass without notice, but she admitted that she +wished to possess one at Bar-sur-Aube, where she could spend the +summer months until her projected château was built. I took the +liberty of opposing this idea of purchasing a house at Bar-sur-Aube, +and maintained that it would be in far better taste to +inhabit a cottage while the château was being built by its side; +but Madame de la Motte, who had already received many valuable +lessons on this subject, did not the less persist in her desire to +display her magnificence in those places which had been witnesses +of her former misery. She purchased, in spite of my remonstrances, +a house at Bar-sur-Aube, for which she paid twice as much as it +was worth, and then gave it up to architects, who considered it +their duty to commit all the stupidities which the property admitted +of, and a few more.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_107" href="#Footnote_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“As the period of the countess’s sojourn at Bar-sur-Aube drew +to a close, people grew angry with those who had held aloof from +visiting her. M. de la Tour alone underwent no change. I had +begged of him to consider the notable alteration which opulence, +though sudden, had wrought in the manners and behaviour of both +the count and countess. ‘I half agree with you,’ replied he. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>‘The wife is a hussy who has gained in penetration; but the +husband has lost in every way—he left us a fool and comes back +to us a coxcomb. I persist in thinking badly of them, and even in +speaking badly of them, so long as they do not reveal to me +by what honest means they have acquired in the short space of six +months what we now know them to be possessed of. Whom will +they or you persuade that the king, the queen, the Count d’Artois, +the <i>contrôleur-général</i>—in a word, I know not what powerful +persons—have thrown heaps of gold to people who simply asked +for bread? The age I know is fertile in extravagance, but not +exactly of this kind. Husband and wife have spread a little report +around that madame is in favour with the queen. I have noticed +them at this for the last fortnight, and if they had mentioned +a single word of it in my presence, I had a little story ready +for them about the Countess de Gazon⁠<a id="FNanchor_108" href="#Footnote_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> and the Queen of Congo +with which I should have made all the lookers-on laugh at their +expense.</p> + +<p>“‘My dear friend,’ continued La Tour, ‘they are altogether +far too impertinent, and it is really shameful that people should +be duped so cheaply. Believe every word they say if you please, +but for my part I adhere to what I know. Now I know, through +you, that madame has relations with the Cardinal de Rohan, +since she has been conveyed five or six times to his eminence’s +hôtel at your expense. Possibly she has since been transported +there on her own light foot. Of all the acquaintances of this fine +lady, the Cardinal de Rohan is the only one to whom prodigality +on a grand scale is not impossible. There are then two conclusions—either +he has supplied the money for all that we see, or +else it has been stolen from him. I ask your pardon for the +second horn of my dilemma, but only on condition that you grant +me the first; and yet I confess I can only with great difficulty +understand how a little village hussy like her can have succeeded +in seducing a prince, a prelate, and a scape-grace of such importance.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_109" href="#Footnote_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>A few days before her departure from Bar-sur-Aube the countess +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>placed in the hands of young Beugnot a rouleau of fifty louis in +discharge of certain small loans which he had at various times +accommodated her with. “I explained to her,” remarks Beugnot, +“that I could not say exactly what she owed me, but that I was +quite certain the amount was below 1200 livres.⁠<a id="FNanchor_110" href="#Footnote_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> ‘Nevertheless +take it,’ replied she; ‘and if there is anything over, give it to your +mother for her poor pensioners.’” Beugnot, on making up the +account, found he had been paid twenty louis too many, which in +accordance with the countess’s instructions he handed over to his +mother. So favourable and lasting an impression did this act of +generosity make on Madame Beugnot, that she could never afterwards +be brought to believe in the truth of any of the crimes +charged against this unhappy woman.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="illus2" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus2.jpg" alt="The Diamond Necklace + (The Stones one-third their natural size) From a facsimile of the + Original Drawing made for Böhmer and Bassenge, jewellers to the + French Crown."> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVI">XVI.<br> +<span class="smcap">Dec. 1784–Jan. 1785.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS SOLD AT LAST.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The countess and her husband, the steward and the four tall footmen, +the led horses and the baggage waggon, the outriders and the +elegant <i>berline</i>, returned to Paris at the close of November, 1784, +when the De la Mottes proceeded, after all their desperate +struggles towards this end, to enter at last into the coveted gaieties +of the rank and fashion of the most brilliant capital in Europe. +At the outset they did not share their good fortune with their +sister, who was still passing a dull time of it at the Abbey of Jarcy. +All they seem to have done was to resign to her the right of petitioning +in the name of Valois, for on the 30th of November in this +same year we find her making one of those stereotyped appeals for +assistance, for which the family had now become notorious, to the +Abbé Bourbon, natural son of Louis XV.⁠<a id="FNanchor_111" href="#Footnote_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> Irritated no doubt at +her having refused to part with her pension, husband and wife determined +to leave her to herself to enjoy in retirement its extremely +slender benefits.</p> + +<p>Suddenly grown rich in the queen’s name, after having successfully +established a very general belief in her pretended intimacy +with royalty, the countess’s instinctive tact led her to perceive +that a new style of living was indispensable on her part to maintain +the delusion, and keep alive that credit which she intended +employing as the basis of still larger operations. The very extravagance +to which she was naturally inclined became consequently +one of the chief elements in her system of deceit. It was +no longer “alms” that she contemplated asking from a carriage, +since she had made the discovery that credulity was a mine which, +properly worked, would furnish a far richer yield than charity was +ever likely to do.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span></p> + +<p>Beugnot tells us that on his return to Paris he was confirmed +in his opinion that the opulence of Madame de la Motte was due +to her intimate connection with the Cardinal de Rohan, and that +he regulated his conduct towards her accordingly. “I presented +myself,” remarks he, “at her door with discretion: I went to dine +at her house only when she did me the honour of inviting me; +and I took care to put her at her ease by affecting respect towards +her. On her part she made me acquainted with her various projects, +setting them out before me with that negligence which presupposes +the certainty of success. She intended, for instance, to +withdraw her brother from the navy—an ungrateful and stupid +service in times of peace; a regiment had been promised her for +him. As for her husband, she had purchased him a step which +would at once give him captain’s rank, and she would by-and-by +see if she could not get him named second colonel. With regard +to her sister, she would not hear of her doing as she herself had +done—in other words, contracting some stupid marriage. If agreeable +to her, she should be canoness at Douxières or Poulangy, as +all the places at Remiremont were bespoken for ten years to come. +‘If,’ remarked she, ‘I had espoused a man of name, and one who +frequented the court, that would have been of some use to me. I +should then have got on much quicker; as it is, my husband is to +me rather an obstacle than a means. It is necessary that I should +do something to make my name rank before his, which is, you +know, contrary to all decorum.’</p> + +<p>“When I visited Madame de la Motte, she never failed to introduce +me to the company as a young magistrate, and always placed +me immediately after the titled people. The tone of the house +was, at least in those days, that of good company. I met there +the Marquis de Saisseval, then a great gambler, rich, and currying +favour with the court; the Abbé de Cabres, councillor in the Paris +Parliament; Rouillé d’Orfeuil, intendant of the Champagne; the +Count d’Estaing, one of the heroes of the American war, and +subsequently in command of the National Guards of Versailles, +when the château was stormed by the mob; the Baron de Villeroy, +an officer of the king’s body-guard; the receiver-general Dorcy; +and Lecoulteux de la Noraye, who, while aspiring to the post of +director of the countess’s affairs and finances, dreamed of being one +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>day appointed <i>contrôleur-général</i> of the finances of the nation, and +who considered himself altogether ‘a most important personage, +though he had only just wit enough to be nothing worse than a +fool.’” La Noraye was no favourite with Beugnot, who in after +years knocked him down on a particular occasion for playing him +some shabby trick when they were fellow-prisoners in La Force during +the days of the Terror.⁠<a id="FNanchor_112" href="#Footnote_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>All the while that madame and her husband were showing off at +Bar-sur-Aube, the cardinal was moping at Saverne, fretfully pacing +up and down a favourite walk in the episcopal pleasure-grounds, +which he had named the “Promenade de la Rose,” in honour of the +gracious gift of counterfeit royalty at the midnight interview in +the park of Versailles. This walk, which led from the palace to +the neighbouring woods, had gone by the name of the “Route de +Bonheur” (road of happiness), until the cardinal, to whom happiness +still seemed hovering in the future, gave it its new designation.⁠<a id="FNanchor_113" href="#Footnote_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> +He had been banished to Saverne in remote Alsace by one +of those billets bordered with <i>vignettes bleues</i>, penned by the forger +Villette, so that he might be out of the way while the De la Mottes +were enjoying themselves in their country retreat.</p> + +<p>On the countess’s return to Paris, the correspondence between +the cardinal and the phantom queen is speedily resumed. The +letters that are now interchanged are more familiar and are even +tender. The amatory prelate, we may be certain, complained that +the last meeting was too brief, implored permission to return to the +capital, and begged for another interview. Replies were doubtless +sent, exhorting him to be discreet, and promising to comply with +his request at some future period. One thing, however, is quite +certain: it was at this time that madame applied for and obtained +in the queen’s name from the cardinal the 100,000 livres, of which +we have already spoken, for of the 50,000 livres received in August +last every sou of course was spent.</p> + +<p>All this while plans are being perfected for the successful carrying +out of that grand scheme of fraud, which not only caused the +greatest commotion throughout France, but may be said to have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>startled the entire civilized world by its audacity. The first incidents +of the new intrigue appear to have been congenial. Some +hanger-on of the countess’s would seem to have sought out an +emissary of the crown jewellers, employed to find a purchaser for +the famed Diamond Necklace with the prospect of a commission for +himself, and whispered in his ear that the Countess de la Motte was +privately received by the queen, with whom she had both credit +and influence, but that unusual reasons existed for not speaking +publicly of this intimacy. He thought, however, that the countess, +if she could only be induced to undertake the negotiation, was a +very likely person to prevail upon the queen to buy the Necklace. +This suggestion was duly reported to Böhmer and Bassenge, after +which it appears the former waited on Madame de la Motte at her +own house and exhibited the matchless jewel. Everything else +followed in due course.</p> + +<p>Though evidently interwoven with those strange fabrications in +which the countess delighted to indulge, her own relation of this +first stage in the great fraud has a certain air of probability about +it, and furnishes us with the ends of some of the threads in this +entangled web. After citing the name of a speculator and schemer +named Laporte, who was always hatching new projects for making +money, and whom she had been the means of introducing to the +cardinal with the view of drawing him into some of Laporte’s grand +undertakings, she observes: “This Laporte was a very active +person, and constantly at my house; I had stood godmother to one +of his children. Achette, his father-in-law, was an intimate friend +of Böhmer’s. One day, when the two latter were at Versailles, +Achette said to Böhmer, ‘Are you still saddled with your Necklace?’ +‘Unfortunately I am,’ answered Böhmer; ‘it is a heavy +burden to me—I would gladly give a thousand louis to any one +who could find me a purchaser for it.’ It is most probable that +from the date of this conversation my name was mentioned, Achette +explaining to Böhmer how his son-in-law, Laporte, had access to +me, and through me to the cardinal.</p> + +<p>“One day Laporte having dined at my house, mentioned to me, +for the first time, the fatal Necklace, observing that he rested all +his hopes on me; that if I would only say a word to the queen, he +was convinced her majesty would make the purchase, and that the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>jewellers were ready to enter into any arrangements that might be +agreeable to her.”</p> + +<p>On this occasion, as well as on a subsequent one, the countess +informs us that she declined to interfere, and though urgently +pressed, would not listen to the suggestion. A third attempt to +induce her to undertake the negotiation was afterwards made, she +tells us, when Böhmer came to her house with Achette, bringing +the Necklace along with him.</p> + +<p>“‘Is it not a pity,’ said Achette to me, ‘that so magnificent a +jewel should leave the kingdom whilst we have a queen whom it +would so well become, and whom, I am sure, must at heart long to +possess it?’</p> + +<p>“‘I don’t know that,’ answered I; ‘nor can I understand why +you have applied to me to transmit your proposals to her majesty. +I protest to you I have no opportunity of submitting them to her, +not having the honour of approaching her.’</p> + +<p>“‘Madame,’ replied Achette, with a look full of meaning, ‘we +are not come hither to pry into your secrets, still less to evince any +doubt respecting what you do us the honour to tell us; but believe +me I am well acquainted with Versailles; I know what is going on +there; and when I took the liberty of introducing my friend to +you, it was because I felt convinced that if you would honour him +with your support, nobody at court is better able to render him the +service we make bold to solicit.’</p> + +<p>“Böhmer’s mouth was open: I saw he was going to speak to me +of his gratitude; so, to get rid of them both, I told them I would +see if, by means of my connections, I could contrive indirectly to +render them some service.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_114" href="#Footnote_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>These visits took place at the end of December. In January, +1785, the countess contrives to insinuate to the crown jewellers, +through some of her high-class connections, that the queen really +does desire to have the Necklace. She openly states as much to +the cardinal, whom, in the very depth of a bitterly-cold winter, she +has summoned to Paris by the aid of a courier armed with one of +those well-known and highly-prized billets, gilt-edged, or bordered +with <i>vignettes bleues</i>, in which the queen is made to say: “The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>wished-for moment has not yet arrived, but I desire to hasten your +return on account of a secret negotiation which interests me personally, +and which I am unwilling to confide to any one but yourself. +The Countess de la Motte will explain the meaning of this +enigma.”</p> + +<p>After reading this letter the cardinal longed for wings; still he +was obliged to content himself with such fleet coursers as the +<i>maîtres de poste</i> along the line of road to the capital could provide +him with. So, well wrapped up in furs, and snugly ensconced in +the corner of a comfortable close travelling carriage, he is soon +rolling rapidly over the two hundred and eighty miles of frost-bound +road that intervene between the episcopal palace of Saverne +and the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles; and, no sooner has he learned the +solution of the enigma, and procured from the countess the address +of the crown jewellers—at the sign of the “Grand Balcony,” Rue +Vendôme—than, puffed up with the importance of the commission +intrusted to him, he hies to Böhmer and Bassenge to open negotiations +with them for the purchase of the costly gem. The cardinal +had not far to go, for the Rue Vendôme (now the Rue Béranger) +was only some ten minutes’ walk from his hôtel, being situated +but a single street from the junction of the Rue Vieille-du-Temple +with the Rue St. Louis (now the Rue Turenne). At the present +day many of the houses have been rebuilt, and of those which were +in existence at the time of our narrative⁠<a id="FNanchor_115" href="#Footnote_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> only a couple in any way +answer to the sign “<i>Au Grand Balcon</i>,” adopted by the crown +jewellers. These are Nos. 11 and 22; the former—for the time +being the Mairie of the 3rd Arrondissement—is a handsome building +with an ornamental ironwork balcony in front, and having +before it an open court, which one has no difficulty in picturing +filled with the grand equipages and liveried lacqueys of the +customers of our friends Böhmer and Bassenge.</p> + +<p>In the excitement of conversation the grand almoner indiscreetly +blurted out what he believed to be the fact, although he had been +strictly enjoined to keep it secret, namely, that the queen was the +actual purchaser of the jewel, but her name was on no account to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>transpire in the business. The price eventually agreed upon for +the Necklace was 1,600,000 livres (£64,000), to be paid in four +instalments of equal amount at intervals of six months: the first +instalment of 400,000 livres to fall due in August. But the +crown jewellers, who had been advised to be cautious in dealing +with the cardinal, required that the contract should be authorized +by the royal signature. To account for this demand, they explained +to the cardinal that they had heavy debts and liabilities +which prevented them from parting with an asset of so much +value without replacing it with adequate vouchers to satisfy their +creditors—notably M. Baudard de Saint-James, treasurer-general +of the navy, to whom they were indebted in no less a sum than +800,000 livres,⁠<a id="FNanchor_116" href="#Footnote_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a> and who had waited so long and so patiently.</p> + +<p>Strange to say, the person who had cautioned the jewellers to +act so guardedly was the great <i>intrigante</i> herself. Accompanied +by her husband she had called upon Böhmer and Bassenge at +seven o’clock on a raw January morning, a couple of hours or so +before the cardinal, to announce his coming, when, after having +reminded them that she had been no party to the transaction, she +proceeded to recommend them not to come to terms without +binding down the cardinal in such a manner as to make themselves +secure.⁠<a id="FNanchor_117" href="#Footnote_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> That she took this step, so likely to frustrate her own +object, was afterwards proved at the trial. Most persons would +have thought that the probability of such a proceeding being fatal +to her plans would have prevented her, if she meditated a fraud, +acting in the way she did; but does not the reader perceive that +this most subtle of impostors had thereby secured, by anticipation, +a strong plea in her favour to disprove her guilt?</p> + +<p>The obtaining the queen’s signature to the contract necessarily +gave rise to some delay. The cardinal sent the deed as he +believed to Marie-Antoinette through Madame de la Motte, with +the intimation that it was only a form, and would be merely +shown to the jewellers, and not delivered up to them. The +countess, however, returns with the deed unsigned. Royalty is in +dudgeon at its sacred name having been made use of. The grand +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>almoner was greatly distressed at this new obstacle, which he +thought her majesty was inclined to aggravate; but what was to +be done?</p> + +<p>Madame de la Motte returns a second time from Versailles, and +pretends to have had a second audience with Marie-Antoinette. +The queen, she says, was very angry with the cardinal for having +introduced her name into the transaction, but had insinuated:</p> + +<p>“If inspiring confidence is all that is requisite, could not the +cardinal have devised some other mode? The cardinal is perhaps +not aware of it, but I may tell you that I have bound myself by a +formal engagement with the king not to sign any deed without his +knowledge. So the thing you see is impossible. Contrive between +you what you can do, or else renounce the purchase altogether.... +It seems to me that, as this document is only a formality, and +as these people do not know my handwriting.... But you will +reflect upon it; still, once for all, I cannot sign it. At all events, +tell the cardinal that the first time I shall see him I will communicate +to him the arrangements I intend to make with him.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_118" href="#Footnote_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess then explains that, returning home after this interview, +and not reflecting on the serious consequences of using +the queen’s name in the manner suggested, she resolves to counterfeit +the royal signature, and for that purpose applies to Rétaux de +Villette, the forger of the letters which to the last the countess +always maintained to be genuine.</p> + +<p>“I explained to M. de Villette,” she says, “the new aspect +which this affair had assumed, the cardinal’s perplexity, the queen’s +dissatisfaction, the interview I had had with her majesty, and the +meaning I attached to her expression that the jewellers were unacquainted +with her handwriting.</p> + +<p>“Villette said, if I was certain that the queen had made use of +the express words I had just repeated, it would appear to him, as +it had appeared to me, that she wished me to understand it did +not much signify whose hand inscribed the attestation, since the +jewellers did not know her handwriting. ‘But,’ added he, +‘neither the queen nor yourself suspect the risk a person runs by +counterfeiting writings. That is an act which the law has included +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>in the list of crimes under the name of forgery. We can +however do this. Taking for granted the statement of the queen, +that these people do not know her handwriting, it may be fairly +supposed that they are equally ignorant of her form of signature. +To sign <i>Marie-Antoinette</i> alone, according to your idea, would be a +positive forgery; but the metamorphosis of an Austrian princess +into a French one—to say, for instance, <i>Marie-Antoinette de France</i>—would +really be unmeaning. If our object was to obtain this +Necklace by a swindle, when the imposture came to be exposed +such a signature would serve as a proof of it; but as we have +no reasonable doubt but that the jewellers will be paid, since they +will have the cardinal’s guarantee privately supported by that of +the queen, I think we may, without much fear of committing ourselves, +submit to the necessity; I will therefore do what I now +explain to you.</p> + +<p>“‘First, I shall not disguise my own writing; and, secondly, I +will give the queen the incorrect title of <i>Marie-Antoinette de +France</i>. The contract being exhibited by the cardinal to Böhmer +and Bassenge, they will not examine it too minutely, I’ll be bound; +and you must promise me to burn it in my presence when the +jewellers have been paid and the matter is at end.’</p> + +<p>“I gave him my word of honour that I would do this, and he +signed the deed according to our covenant. I left him directly +afterwards and drove at once to the cardinal. At first I intended +to give him the contract approved and signed, without telling him +how I had settled matters; but I reflected that Villette and I +were not the safest judges; that the affair might be more serious +than we imagined, and that if such were the case the cardinal +might be placed in an embarrassing position. So I resolved to +tell him all.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon, according to Madame de la Motte’s version, the +cardinal was informed of the forgery, and of the <i>incorrectness</i> of the +signature, after he had seen the contract without detecting either. +He acquiesced, we are told by the countess, in the fraud, merely +observing that “since he had been deceived by it, it would be the +same with the jewellers.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_119" href="#Footnote_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span></p> + +<p>Such is the specious explanation given by Madame de la Motte +of the forgery of the queen’s signature to the contract. But +amidst this farrago of falsehood—for there can be no doubt the +queen’s signature was appended in the absurd form described, owing +to the ignorance of this pair of sharpers⁠<a id="FNanchor_120" href="#Footnote_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a> the simple truth remains +that the deluded cardinal, hoping thereby to please the queen, had +bought the Necklace of the jewellers on his own guarantee for one +million six hundred thousand francs, backed with this fraudulent +signature of Marie-Antoinette’s. The contract had been drawn up +with great care by the cardinal himself, and was written with his +own hand, since the matter was of course of too secret a nature to +be intrusted to a professional engrosser; and, after having been +exhibited to Böhmer and Bassenge for their private satisfaction, it +was left in the cardinal’s keeping. The unfortunate dupe of +course believed he still held possession of the royal guarantee, the +grotesque inventions to the contrary of Madame de la Motte, +which we have just laid before the reader, being of no further +moment than to expose her own duplicity. The confidence and +mental satisfaction of the jewellers when they read the contract, +ratified by majesty itself, was equal to that felt by the cardinal. +“They read it,” says the Rohan memorial, “and appeared full of +joy; they then returned it, but the cardinal requested them to +take a copy of it, which they had not thought of doing. This +copy they made themselves without the slightest doubt being +raised in their minds by the strangeness of the signature.”</p> + +<p>We may instance as another proof of the countess’s prompt +mode of action, that by the end of January, 1785, the whole affair +was settled—in fact within six weeks after she had promised “to +see if she could not contrive indirectly to render the jewellers +some service;” the famous Diamond Necklace which had been to +them a source of grave anxiety for years was off their hands.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVII">XVII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1781–1785.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">CHARLATAN COUNT CAGLIOSTRO.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>When, in the autumn of the year 1781, the De la Mottes were +chasing the Marchioness de Boulainvilliers, who they had heard +was at Strasbourg, the notorious Cagliostro was astonishing the +good people of that famous town as much by his singular conduct +as by the extraordinary cures he was represented to have performed. +“Curious to behold so remarkable a personage, the +cardinal,” who was then at his episcopal palace of Saverne, “went +over to Strasbourg, but found it necessary to use interest to get +admitted into the presence of the illustrious charlatan. ‘If monseigneur +the cardinal is sick,’ said he, ‘let him come to me and I +will cure him. If he is well, he has no business with me nor I +with him.’ This reply, far from offending the cardinal’s vanity, +only increased the desire he had to become acquainted with this +new Esculapius. Having at length gained admission to his sanctuary, +the cardinal fancied he saw impressed on the countenance +of this mysterious and taciturn individual, a dignity so imposing +that he felt himself penetrated with an almost religious awe, and +the very first words he uttered were inspired by reverence. The +interview, which was but brief, excited more strongly than ever in +the mind of the cardinal the desire of a more intimate acquaintance. +This gradually came about, the crafty empiric timing his +conduct and his advances so skilfully, that without seeming to desire +it he gained the grand almoner’s entire confidence, and obtained +the greatest ascendency over him.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_121" href="#Footnote_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>During the next two years or so, Cagliostro seems to have made +the episcopal palace at Saverne his home whenever he felt so +inclined. When the cardinal happened to be there, the count +amused him by performing experiments in the laboratory which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>had been fitted up in a private part of the palace for his especial +use—making, so the cardinal maintained, not only gold, but diamonds, +under his very eyes.⁠<a id="FNanchor_122" href="#Footnote_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> But when the cardinal was away +the crucibles were no longer in request, and the count would indulge +in carousals, prolonged far into the night, with the Baron de +Planta, the cardinal’s equerry and confidant, and a black sheep of +the choicest breed, carousals at which his eminence’s matchless +Tokay flowed like water.⁠<a id="FNanchor_123" href="#Footnote_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In the memorial published in his behalf at the time of the +Necklace trial, Cagliostro gives a most romantic account of himself. +He is ignorant, he says, of the place of his birth, but was brought +up while a child in the city of Medina, where he went by the name +of Acharat, and lived attended by servants in a style of great +splendour in apartments in the palace of the Mufti Salahayn, the +chief of the Mussulmans. From Medina, he pretends, he was +taken when quite a youth to Mecca, where he remained for three +years petted by the scherif. He is next taken to Egypt, visits the +chief cities of Africa and Asia, and eventually sails from Rhodes +for Malta, where apartments are provided for him in the palace of +the grand master. Here, he says, he assumed the name of Cagliostro +and the title of count. From Malta he proceeds to Sicily +and Naples, thence to Rome, where he makes the acquaintance of +several cardinals, and is admitted to frequent audiences of the +Pope. He professes to have next visited Spain, Portugal, Holland, +Russia, and Poland, and gives a list of the nobles of these countries +with whom he had become acquainted. At length, in September, +1780, he goes to Strasbourg, where his fame as a physician +had already preceded him. Here, he asserts, with perfect truth, +he cured the poor generally, and particularly sick soldiers and +prisoners, without fee or reward. Strasbourg was soon crowded +with strangers, who came either to see him or to consult him. It +is now that he makes the acquaintance of the Cardinal de Rohan, +whom he accompanies to Paris to prescribe for the Prince de +Soubise, suffering at the time from an accident to his leg. After +a short sojourn in the capital he returns to Strasbourg, when being +persecuted by a party in the town, it is quite certain that letters +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>are written to the authorities in his behalf by the Count de Vergennes, +minister for foreign affairs, the Marquis de Miroménil, +keeper of the seals, and the Marquis de Ségur, minister of war, who +desire that every protection shall be afforded him.</p> + +<p>Cagliostro’s story about his residence in Medina and Mecca, and +Egypt, Rhodes and Malta, was a tissue of impudent lies. The +truth is, his real name was Joseph Balsamo, and he was the son of +a small tradesman of Palermo, in which city he was born in 1743. +The family were of Jewish origin, and he derived the name of Cagliostro +from a great uncle. In his early youth he belonged to the +religious order of Charitable Brethren, and as he grew older became +remarkable for his intelligence, cleverness, and cunning. +Later on, he appears to have studied medicine with advantage.</p> + +<p>Growing tired of the obscurity of his lot, he forged the title-deed +to some considerable estate, and on the fraud being discovered +precipitately embarked for Catalonia where he married a young +and pretty girl. With her he proceeded to Rome, and having conferred +on himself the title of Prince Pellegrini, with that audacity +which never deserted him, he returned to Palermo under this assumed +appellation. There a genuine prince became infatuated +with Donna Lorenza and took her husband under his powerful protection. +The false Pellegrini, however, was soon recognised as the +escaped forger and arrested. But on the day appointed for his +examination, his friend the prince forced the doors of the tribunal, +assaulted the counsel for the prosecution, and overwhelmed the +president with reproaches. The consequence was that the terrified +court set the prisoner at liberty, and Cagliostro, leaving his wife in +the care of the prince, again started on his travels,⁠<a id="FNanchor_124" href="#Footnote_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a> in the course +of which he visited many of the chief cities of the Continent. +He was picked up, it is commonly asserted, while still a young +man—being little over thirty years of age—by the sect of Illuminati, +who thought, and correctly thought, that they had discovered +in him a willing and able instrument for the dissemination of their +doctrines. His initiation into the mysteries of Illuminism took +place in a cave some little distance from Frankfort-on-the-Main, +when he learnt for the first time that the object of the society of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>which he was now a member, was to overturn the thrones of +Europe, and that the first blow was to be struck in France; that +after the fall of the French monarchy it was proposed to attack +Rome; that the society had extensive resources, and was in the +possession of enormous funds, dispersed among the banks of Amsterdam, +Rotterdam, Basle, Lyons, London, Venice, and Genoa, the +proceeds of the annual subscriptions of its members. A considerable +sum of money, which he afterwards pretended he had acquired +by the practice of alchemy, was at once placed at his disposal, to +enable him to propagate the doctrines of the sect in France. +This was the origin of his first visit to Strasbourg in the autumn of +the year 1780, when he adopted for his device the letters L. P. D. +signifying <i>Lilia pedibus destrue</i>—Trample the lilies under foot.⁠<a id="FNanchor_125" href="#Footnote_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Cagliostro was one of those individuals who, for reasons of their +own, envelop themselves in a maze of mystery, and are rarely seen +through during their lives, because they address themselves to +men’s imaginations alone. By exciting wonder they disarm +reason. He laid claim to many gifts and acquirements; had studied +medicine, was an adept at alchemy, and knew something of natural +magic. The acts which he performed were so contrived by his +arts and wiles, that all his visitors (and they comprised persons of +the highest rank and the utmost intellectual attainments) considered +them to be marvellous, whilst the gaping multitude magnified +every feat until it went far beyond this ideal. He set no price +on his public exhibitions, and darted looks of wounded honour at +those who, he pretended, degraded him by offering him gold; +whilst his hand was constantly open to the indigent, whom he +waited on in their humble homes with advice, medicine, and money. +His widespread acts of benevolence, and the luxurious style in +which he lived, proved him to be rich, and yet none were able to +discover the sources of his wealth. The houses of the most opulent +citizens were thrown open to him, and without seeking the +great, but seeming rather to avoid them, he constantly found himself +in their company. Among this class he had many proselytes, +but none who believed in him so implicitly as the Cardinal Prince +de Rohan, who, spite of the count’s “perfect quack face,” seems to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>have worshipped him as a being something more than human. Indeed +in one of the <i>salons</i> of the Palais-Cardinal there was a marble +bust of Cagliostro, with a Latin inscription on the pedestal signifying +“God of the Earth.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_126" href="#Footnote_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>A friend of the grand almoner’s, the Baroness d’Oberkirche, who +met Cagliostro at Saverne at this epoch, sketches his portrait for +us in her “Memoirs,” and furnishes us with convincing proofs of +the singular influence which the count had succeeded in acquiring +over his credulous patron. “Cagliostro was anything but handsome,” +she observes, “still I have never seen a more remarkable +physiognomy; above all, he had a penetrating look which seemed +almost supernatural. I know not how to describe the expression +of his eyes: it was at once fire and ice; attracted and repelled you +at the same time; made you afraid and inspired you with an irrepressible +curiosity. One might draw two different portraits of +him, both resembling him, and yet totally dissimilar. He wore on +his shirt-front, on his watch-chain, and on his fingers, diamonds of +large size, and apparently of the purest water. If they were not +paste, they were worth a king’s ransom. He pretended that he had +made them himself. All this frippery showed the charlatan miles +off.</p> + +<p>“When Cagliostro perceived me he saluted me very respectfully. +I returned his salutation without affecting either hauteur or condescension. +There were fifteen of us at dinner; nevertheless, the +cardinal occupied himself almost exclusively with me, using a sort +of refined coquetry to bring me over to his way of thinking with +regard to Cagliostro, with whom he was perfectly infatuated. I +was placed on the cardinal’s right hand, and during dinner he tried +by every means to enforce his convictions upon me. I resisted, +politely but firmly; he grew impatient, and on leaving table volunteered +me his confidence. Had I not heard him with my own ears +I could never have believed that a prince of the Roman church, a +Rohan, an intelligent and honourable man in so many respects, +could have allowed himself to be brought to the point of abjuring +both his dignity and free will at the bidding of a <i>chevalier d’industrie</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span></p> + +<p>“‘In truth, baroness, you are very hard to convince,’ remarked +the cardinal; ‘what! has not all that he has told you, all that I +have just related, satisfied you? I must then avow everything. +Understand, at least, that I am about to confide to you a secret of +importance.’ I was greatly embarrassed. I did not wish to be +the depositary of any of the cardinal’s secrets, and was about to +excuse myself when, divining my intention, the prince exclaimed: +‘Do not say no! but listen to me. You see this?’</p> + +<p>“The cardinal showed me a large solitaire which he had on his +little finger, engraved with the arms of the house of Rohan; it was +a ring worth 20,000 francs at least. ‘It is a fine stone, my lord,’ +observed I; ‘I have been already admiring it.’ ‘Well, it was he +who made it; created it out of nothing. I saw him myself. I +was present, with eyes fixed upon the crucible, and assisted at the +operation. Is this science? What do you think of it, baroness? +They tell me that he is only luring me on, that he cheats me; the +jeweller and engraver have valued this brilliant at 25,000 francs. +You will at least admit that he is a strange sort of sharper to make +such presents as this.’</p> + +<p>“I acknowledge I was stupefied. The Prince de Rohan perceived +it, and continued, certain of his victory: ‘But this is not +all: he makes gold; he has made in my presence, in the crucibles +of the palace, five or six thousand francs’ worth. I shall have +more of it—I shall, in fact, have any quantity—he will make me +the richest prince in Europe. These are not dreams, madam, +these are certainties. Think, too, of his prophecies fulfilled; of +the miraculous cures he has performed. I tell you that he is not +only a most extraordinary, but a sublime man, and one whose +goodness has never been equalled; the charities he bestows, the +benefits he confers, pass all imagination.’</p> + +<p>“‘Am I to understand your eminence,’ inquired I, ‘that you +have given him nothing for all this—have not made him the smallest +advance, have made him no promise, given him no written +document which compromises you? Pardon my curiosity, but +since you wish to make me a confidant of these mysteries, I——’ +‘You are right, madam,’ replied the prince, ‘but I can assure you +that he has asked nothing, has received nothing from me.’ ‘Ah! +my lord,’ I exclaimed, ‘it must be that this man reckons on obtaining +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>from you many dangerous sacrifices since he buys your unbounded +confidence so dearly. Were I in your place I should be +extremely cautious; one of these days he will lead you too far.’ +The cardinal only answered by an incredulous smile; but I am +certain that later, at the time of the Necklace affair, when Cagliostro +and the Countess de la Motte had cast him to the bottom of +the abyss, he recalled my words.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_127" href="#Footnote_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Singularly enough, Cagliostro arrived in Paris just at the time +the cardinal was making the final arrangements with the crown +jewellers for the purchase of the Necklace. Whether or no he +was summoned thither by the cardinal himself we are unable to +say, but if the Abbé Georgel’s statement is to be relied on, it is +quite certain that the grand almoner consulted Cagliostro respecting +the business of the Necklace prior to concluding the negotiations. +The abbé says: “This Python mounted his tripod; the +Egyptian invocations were made at night in the cardinal’s own +saloon, which was illuminated by an immense number of wax tapers. +The oracle, under the inspiration of its familiar demon, pronounced +that the negotiation was worthy of the prince, that it would be +crowned with success, that it would raise the goodness of the +queen to its height, and bring to light that happy day which would +unfold the rare talents of the cardinal for the benefit of France +and of the human race.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_128" href="#Footnote_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The Countess de la Motte, who it will be remembered had formerly +met Cagliostro at Strasbourg, renewed her acquaintance +with him in the <i>salons</i> of the Palais-Cardinal, where she was now +a constant visitor. For a time it was an affair of diamond cut +diamond between them. She flattered the arch impostor with the +finest art, appeared to be his dupe, and broke out into loud exclamations +of surprise when he performed his tricks and practised his +delusions in her presence. The crafty cheat was himself cheated. +By degrees he became persuaded that she was really a confidant of +the French queen, that she had credit at court, and would soon +have power. Fully convinced of her influence, and perceiving, as +he thought, that his patron the cardinal would by her assistance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>retrieve his political fortune, he encouraged that sanguine prelate, +and worked, as we have seen, upon his imagination, with a view to +dispel any lingering doubt he might chance to entertain. So infatuated +did Cagliostro become under the influence of his own delusions +on the one side, and the spell of this enchantress on the +other, that the countess would appear to have controlled the crafty +necromancer even in the performance of his own spells.⁠<a id="FNanchor_129" href="#Footnote_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Cagliostro, after he was regularly settled in Paris, became a frequent +visitor at the countess’s house—he and madame, we are told, +were like two fingers on one hand—where he was received with +an amount of respect verging on to reverence. The De la Mottes +and he were close neighbours, for he lived at the Hôtel de Chavigny, +in the Rue Saint-Claude, only a couple of streets off. “The +house which he occupied, and which was afterwards the residence +of Barras, was one of the most elegant of the quarter.⁠<a id="FNanchor_130" href="#Footnote_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> In the +<i>salon</i>, decorated with oriental luxury, and bathed in a kind of semi-daylight +when it was not resplendent with the blaze of a hundred +lights, the pursuits of the philosopher and conspirator might be +divined by the side of the projects of the quack. There one saw +the bust of Hippocrates, and, in a black frame, inscribed in letters +of gold, a literal translation of Pope’s Universal Prayer.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_131" href="#Footnote_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> Here +Cagliostro lived in state, giving balls, assemblies, and audiences at +which he insolently offered his hand to his fair disciples to kiss, +while he treated his male visitors, and at times even the cardinal +himself, with marked disdain.⁠<a id="FNanchor_132" href="#Footnote_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Young Beugnot, who met Cagliostro at one of Madame de la +Motte’s <i>petits soupers</i>, tells us that the countess previously warned +him that she would be obliged to disarm the inquietude of Cagliostro, +who, for no reason whatever, invariably refused to sup if he +thought that any one had been invited to meet him. Moreover, +she begged Beugnot to ask him no questions, not to interrupt him +when he was speaking, and to answer with readiness any inquiries +he had addressed to him. “I subscribed,” says Beugnot, “to +these conditions, and would have accepted even harder ones to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>gratify my curiosity. At half-past ten the folding doors were +thrown open, and the Count de Cagliostro was announced. Madame +de la Motte precipitately quitted her arm-chair, rushed up to him +and drew him into a corner of the <i>salon</i>, where I presume she +begged him to pardon my presence. Cagliostro advanced towards +me and bowed, without appearing at all embarrassed at perceiving +a stranger. He was of medium height, rather stout, had a very +short neck, and a round face ornamented with two large eyes +sunken in his head, and a broad turn-up nose; his complexion was +of an olive tinge; his <i>coiffure</i> was new in France, his hair being +divided into several little tresses, which, uniting at the back of the +head, were tied up in the form known as the ‘club.’ He wore a +French cut coat of iron grey embroidered with gold lace, and +carried his sword stuck in the skirts, a scarlet vest trimmed with +<i>point d’Espagne</i>, red breeches, and a hat edged with a white feather. +This last article of dress was still necessary to mountebanks, +dentists, and other medical <i>artistes</i> who made speeches and sold +their drugs out of doors. Cagliostro’s costume was relieved by +lace ruffles, several costly rings, and shoe-buckles of an old pattern +but brilliant enough to pass for very fine diamonds.</p> + +<p>“There were at supper only the members of the family, among +whom I include Father Loth, <i>minime</i> of the Place Royale, who +reconciled, I know not how, his sacred functions with the place of +second secretary to Madame de la Motte. He used to say mass +for her on Sundays, and charged himself during the rest of the +week with commissions at the Palais-Cardinal which the first secretary +thought beneath his dignity. Neither must I count as a +stranger the Chevalier de Montbreul, a veteran of the green rooms, +and still a good conversationalist, who was prepared to affirm almost +any mortal thing, and was found, as if by chance, wherever Cagliostro +appeared, ready to bear witness to the marvels he had performed, +and to offer himself as a positive example miraculously +cured of I know not how many diseases, of which the names alone +were sufficiently startling.</p> + +<p>“There were then nine or ten of us at table; Madame de la +Motte had on one side of her Cagliostro and Montbreul, and I was +on her other side, facing the former, whom I made a point of examining +by stealth, and still did not know what to think of him; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>the face, the style of dressing the hair, the whole of the man, impressed +me in spite of myself. I waited for him to open his mouth. +He spoke I know not what jargon, half Italian, half French, plentifully +interlarded with quotations in an unknown tongue, which +passed with the unlearned for Arabic. He had all the talking to +himself, and found time to go over at least twenty different subjects +in the course of the evening, simply because he gave to them +merely that extent of development which seemed good to him. +Every moment he was inquiring if he was understood, whereupon +everybody bowed in turn to assure him that he was. When starting +a subject he seemed like one transported, raised his voice to +the highest pitch and indulged in the most extravagant gesticulations. +The subjects of his discourse were the heavens, the stars, +the grand <i>arcanum</i>, Memphis, transcendental chemistry, giants, +and the extinct monsters of the animal kingdom. He spoke, moreover, +of a city in the interior of Africa ten times as large as Paris, +and where he pretended he had correspondents.” Beugnot further +mentions, that in between his rhapsodies he would chatter the +most frivolous nonsense to the Countess de la Motte, whom he designated +his dove, his gazelle, and his white swan. After supper +he addressed numerous questions to Beugnot, one following another +with extraordinary rapidity. To all the count’s catechising the +young advocate invariably replied by a respectful avowal of his +ignorance, and subsequently was surprised to learn from Madame +de la Motte that Cagliostro had conceived a most favourable +opinion, not merely of his deportment, but likewise of his knowledge.⁠<a id="FNanchor_133" href="#Footnote_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVIII">XVIII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785. Feb.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE DIAMOND NECKLACE IS DELIVERED.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The Cardinal de Rohan obtained possession of the Necklace early +on the morning of the 1st of February, 1785, and had not long to +wait ere he was honoured with the queen’s commands to deliver +it into her royal custody. We shall give two accounts of how this +delivery was effected—namely, the story told by the countess, and +the statement made by the cardinal in his memorial.</p> + +<p>The cardinal of course expected, from having rendered the queen +a service for which she could not feel otherwise than grateful, that +he would have been permitted to deliver the rich jewel to Marie-Antoinette +in person, and when he received from Madame de la +Motte the following note, purporting to be written by the queen, +he imagined his expectations were on the point of being realized:—</p> + +<p>“This evening (Feb. 1), at nine o’clock, you must be at the +countess’s house (at Versailles) with the casket and in the usual +costume. Do not leave until you hear from me.”</p> + +<p>The countess lodged, as the reader will remember, at “La Belle +Image,” in the Place Dauphine, and thither, on this sharp winter’s +night—it was a hard frost, and the ground was almost like glass—the +cardinal proceeded, wrapped up in a long great-coat, and +wearing a slouched hat that concealed his features. One can +imagine the countess’s nervous state on this eventful evening—can +see her posted at the window on the watch, peering through the +frost on the panes into the dark and almost silent Place, eager for +a glimpse of the grand almoner with the coveted treasure. At last +two figures are seen crossing the broad square from the Rue de la +Pompe, at the end of which is the Hôtel de Rohan—one is the +cardinal, the other a man-servant he has brought with him, who +carries the casket, and whom he dismisses a few doors off “La +Belle Image.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span></p> + +<p>“At half-past eight o’clock,” says Madame de la Motte, “the +cardinal called upon me in his disguise, carrying under his arm the +casket containing the Necklace, which he set down on a chest of +drawers. At half-past nine Lesclos,⁠<a id="FNanchor_134" href="#Footnote_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> that faithful messenger of +her majesty, whom she so often employed in delicate missions—Lesclos, +a man perfectly well known to the cardinal, and the necessary +confidant of all the little irregularities mentioned in the +correspondence between him and the queen—called upon me with +a letter from her majesty which ran thus:—</p> + +<p>“‘The minister (the king) is at present with me, and I cannot +tell how long he will stay. You know the person I send. Deliver +the casket to him, and stay where you are. I do not despair of +seeing <i>thee</i> to-day.’”</p> + +<p>“The cardinal,” continues the countess, “having read this note, +delivered to the faithful Lesclos, with his own hands, the casket +containing the Necklace which he had himself deposited on the +chest of drawers. Lesclos went out.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_135" href="#Footnote_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Such is Madame de la Motte’s statement. Let us compare it +with the cardinal’s, which we extract from one of the memorials +produced in his defence at the trial:—</p> + +<p>“On his (the cardinal’s) arrival at Versailles he called upon +Madame de la Motte, who was living in the Place Dauphine; he +took with him Schreibert, his <i>valet de chambre</i>, who had charge of +the casket. The cardinal, when they had reached the house, took +it from him and went up-stairs by himself. He found Madame de +la Motte alone, and presented to her the rich burden he was +carrying.</p> + +<p>“Some time after a man, who announced himself as a messenger +from the queen, entered the apartment. The cardinal withdrew +cautiously into an alcove which was half open. The man delivered +a note. Madame de la Motte sent him for a moment outside the +room, then came towards the cardinal and read to him the letter containing +the order for delivering up the casket to the bearer. The +man was then called in again, the casket was given into his hands, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>and he took his departure.... Who was that man? To the +cardinal he seemed to be the same that he had descried in the park +of Versailles on the night of the 11th of August, 1784, close to +Mademoiselle d’Oliva.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_136" href="#Footnote_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>We will undertake to answer the cardinal’s interrogatory. The +messenger was an accomplice of the countess’s: none other than +the forger Rétaux de Villette, made up for the occasion “with large +black eyebrows, and pale face,” and the letter of which he was the +bearer was one of his own numerous forgeries. At any rate the +countess’s <i>femme de chambre</i>, Rosalie Briffaut, deposed to having +opened the door to him at the precise hour on that particular night, +when he immediately entered the countess’s apartment.</p> + +<p>Success is attained at last! The great fraud is consummated! +The woman who when a child we have seen running along the +streets with naked feet, the tatters of poverty her only covering, +and begging of lords and ladies to “bestow a few sous on a +descendant of Henry II. of Valois, King of France,” has at length +obtained possession of the famed Diamond Necklace, valued at +1,600,000, livres, or £64,000, sterling! The jewellers, delighted at +having got the troublesome piece of <i>bijouterie</i> off their hands, invite +the countess to a grand dinner, and madame being pleased to +accept the invitation, the affair came off on the 12th of February, +when doubtless both the countess and her absent friend the +cardinal were toasted in bumpers of the choicest Burgundy, and +more than one fine speech was made which, had it been accurately +reported, would have read rather curiously a few months afterwards.</p> + +<p>It had been arranged, it seems, between the jewellers and +Laporte, Achette, some baron—name unknown, but said to be a +relative of the cardinal’s—and a money-lending goldsmith named +Grenier,⁠<a id="FNanchor_137" href="#Footnote_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a> the same who had purchased the De la Motte pension, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>and who, we expect, had got mixed up in the Necklace affair +through his connection with the countess, that a commission of +200,000 livres was to be paid to the negotiators, of which amount +madame says it was proposed she should receive one-half in articles +of jewellery, such as diamond rings and earrings, a couple of solitaires, +a locket set with diamonds, and a watch and chain for herself, +with a couple of diamond rings and a watch and chain set with +diamonds for her husband. When Laporte sent her a written +memorandum of these conditions, and begged her acceptance of +them, she declined, and desired him to say no more on the subject, +as she had done so little towards effecting the sale of the Necklace, +and as, moreover, it was not her habit to receive presents for +services rendered!⁠<a id="FNanchor_138" href="#Footnote_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>When the count, who had not yet been let into the secret of his +wife’s intention with regard to the Necklace, came to hear of this +refusal, he blamed her very much, and it was arranged with Grenier +that he should inform the other negotiators of the countess’s willingness +to accept the proposed presents. It does not appear, +however, that she ever received them. The commission was +probably dependent on the payment of the purchase-money for the +Necklace, and as this was never paid, the arrangement with regard +to the commission most likely fell to the ground.</p> + +<p>Baudard de Saint-James, treasurer-general of the navy, and +principal creditor of the crown jewellers, is equally delighted with +the latter at the Necklace being at last sold. He has now before +him the pleasant prospect of receiving twenty-four livres in the +louis on his large debt, and from a feeling of gratitude presses, +through Böhmer and Bassenge, the offer of his services upon the +cardinal, to whom, he said, he should be proud to be of use. The +cardinal, who, with all his large resources, is continually in want +of money, knew, we suppose, what this meant, for he forthwith +borrowed 50,000 livres from the treasurer-general of the navy on +his simple note of hand.⁠<a id="FNanchor_139" href="#Footnote_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>This celebrated financier’s real name was Baudard; but when he +had grown rich he made an addition to it, and called himself Saint-James, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>after the village from whence he came. This name he in +his turn bestowed on a celebrated château and park still existing +at the end of the Avenue de Neuilly, the same in which the Duke +of Wellington and his staff took up their quarters when the Allies +entered Paris after the battle of Waterloo. It had formerly been +the residence of the famous Cardinal de Retz, afterwards of Le +Normand (uncle of Madame de Maintenon, and the richest <i>fermier-général</i> +of his time), by whom the château was rebuilt, and subsequently +of our treasurer-general of the navy, who dissipated his +immense fortune upon it in fancies of the wildest kind. He first +enlarged the château, then redecorated and furnished it in the +most magnificent style; next extended and relaid out the park, +planted miniature woods, constructed artificial grottos and waterfalls, +erected Chinese temples and Turkish kiosques, and formed a +superb winter-garden, in which he accumulated all the rare flora +of Asia and America. The feature of the park, however, was its +grand rock, the quarrying and transit of which is said to have +cost Saint-James the incredible sum of 1,600,000 livres, or +£64,000⁠<a id="FNanchor_140" href="#Footnote_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a>⁠—exactly the price of the Diamond Necklace—and +which is known even at the present day by the name of “Saint-James’s +Folly.” What with his reckless expenditure upon this +château and park, his expensive mistresses, his jobbing in the +funds, his allowing himself to be drawn into all manner of wild +undertakings, the promoters of which, knowing alike his stupidity +and his greed, invariably had recourse to him, and his subsequent +losses by Böhmer and Bassenge and others, it is not to be +wondered at that Baudard de Saint-James came to grief at last—failed, +in fact, for a million sterling, got sent to the Bastille, and +only left it to die of poverty and grief a short time afterwards.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIX">XIX.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785. Feb.–Aug.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE DIAMOND NECKLACE VANISHES!</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The gigantic swindle it must be confessed had been effected in a +masterly manner. Weeks, and even months, passed by, and no +one seemed to entertain the slightest suspicion that any fraud had +been perpetrated. But this was only the calm that precedes the +storm. The crown jewellers, Böhmer and Bassenge, made it no +secret that they had succeeded in disposing of their Necklace. +They, however, gave out that it had been purchased by the Sultan +of Turkey for a favourite sultana. Böhmer afterwards stated that +they did this at the request of the cardinal, who had received the +queen’s commands to that effect. Of course Madame de la Motte +was the real person who caused this report to be spread to allay +impertinent curiosity. The cardinal, flattering himself that he had +placed his sovereign under an obligation, was expecting both +favour and power, and was confiding these hopes rather incautiously +to his friends. The De la Mottes were openly living in almost +Oriental luxury. Nobody would have supposed that any great +wrong had been done.</p> + +<p>On the 3rd of February, two days after the Necklace had been +delivered to the cardinal, he met Böhmer and Bassenge at +Versailles. “Well,” said he to them, “have you made your very +humble acknowledgments to her majesty for having purchased +your Necklace?” The jewellers, careless upon this point now the +Necklace was fairly off their hands, had not done so; the cardinal +upbraided them with their neglect, a fact admitted at the trial.⁠<a id="FNanchor_141" href="#Footnote_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Months glide by without the slightest suspicion arising, although +the grand almoner is somewhat puzzled at the queen never wearing +the Necklace in public. Every time he meets the jewellers +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>he repeats his inquiry whether they have humbly thanked the +queen, and renews his very earnest recommendation for them to do +so. At length, in the last week of June, after the countess has +more than once hinted to him that the queen thinks the Necklace +dear, the cardinal receives a letter written in her majesty’s name +by the forger Villette, complaining of the excessive price of the +jewel, and demanding a reduction of 200,000 livres, in which case +700,000 instead of 400,000 livres would be paid on the 1st of +August, “otherwise,” the letter went on to say, “the article will +be returned.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_142" href="#Footnote_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a> The crown jewellers murmur, as well they might, +at this unexpected demand, but rather than be again burthened +with the Necklace, after consulting with Saint-James, they give an +unwilling consent to the new arrangement. When all is finally +settled, by the advice of the cardinal they address to the queen the +following letter, the very words of which are dictated by the grand +almoner himself:</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="noindent">“Madame,</p> + +<p>“We are extremely happy to think that the last +arrangements which have been proposed to us, and to which we +have submitted with respectful zeal, will be received as a new instance +of our submission and devotedness to your majesty’s commands, +and we feel truly rejoiced to think that the most beautiful +set of diamonds in the world will be worn by the best and greatest +of queens.</p> + +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Böhmer and Bassenge.</span></p> + +<p>“July 12, 1785.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_143" href="#Footnote_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a>⁠</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>When the above letter was written, some slight feelings of uneasiness +respecting the Necklace had taken possession of the minds +of the two partners; for Marie-Antoinette had appeared in public +on several occasions when such an ornament might very properly +have been worn, but without displaying it. Böhmer had sought +interviews with the queen, who had carefully avoided him, fearing +to be again pestered with his importunities, and, since his threat of +committing suicide, regarding him as partially deranged.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span></p> + +<p>The cardinal, as we have already remarked, was perplexed by +the circumstance that the queen did not wear the Necklace, and +still more so by the freezing aversion she continued to manifest +whenever they met in public. The fictitious letters too had become +more rare, as well as much briefer than heretofore, and very +cold. The apprehension mutually shared by the cardinal and the +crown jewellers may be traced in the letter just quoted, in which +“the most beautiful set of diamonds in the world” is pointedly +alluded to, and something like a hint given that they ought to be +“worn by the best and greatest of queens.”</p> + +<p>This letter was delivered by Böhmer to Marie-Antoinette with a +diamond epaulette and buckles which the king had ordered of the +crown jewellers as presents to the Duke d’Angoulême on the day +of his christening. The queen, who had just returned from mass, +went at once into her library, where Madame Campan was present. +“She held the note in her hand; she read it to me,” says Madame +Campan, “observing that as I had in the morning guessed the +enigmas in the <i>Mercure</i>, I could no doubt discover the meaning of +this, which that madman Böhmer had just handed to her. These +were her very words. The note contained a request not to forget +him,⁠<a id="FNanchor_144" href="#Footnote_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a> and expressions of his happiness at seeing her in possession +of the most beautiful diamonds that could be found in Europe. +As she finished reading the note she twisted it up and burnt it at +a taper which was standing lighted in her library for sealing letters, +and merely recommended me, when I should see Böhmer, to request +an explanation of it. ‘Has he assorted some new ornaments?’⁠<a id="FNanchor_145" href="#Footnote_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a> +added the queen. ‘I should be very vexed if he has +done so, for I don’t intend to make use of his services any longer.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_146" href="#Footnote_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span></p> + +<p>In the middle of the month of July, but a very short time before +the first instalment fell due, the countess, feeling the necessity for +gaining time, called upon the Cardinal de Rohan, and told him that +the queen would be constrained to devote the 700,000 livres, which +she had put aside for the payment of the moiety of the purchase-money +due on the 1st of August, to other purposes. She begged +that the cardinal would see the jewellers and obtain a postponement, +which the queen thought could not be at all difficult,⁠<a id="FNanchor_147" href="#Footnote_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a> until +the 1st of October. The cardinal received this message with +evident consternation, whereupon Madame de la Motte, to reassure +him, told him that she had seen in the queen’s hands notes to the +amount of 700,000 livres, which her majesty had designed for the +payment of the instalment in question, and a day or two afterwards +she would appear to have brought him a letter from the queen on +the subject.⁠<a id="FNanchor_148" href="#Footnote_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a> There is no help for it—for needs must when such a +charioteer as the countess drives—so the cardinal does as he is bid, +somewhat out of temper, it is true, by this time with her majesty’s +unbusiness-like ways, which bid fair, he tells the jewellers, “to turn +his head.” Böhmer and Bassenge show such evident signs of dissatisfaction +at this new variation of the contract, that to quiet them +the prince feels constrained to tell them a fib, namely, that he had +<i>himself</i> seen in the queen’s hands the 700,000 livres in question. +This statement he repeats to Baudard de Saint-James, whose +interest in the matter we know, and who makes it his business to +be kept informed of any hitches that arise in this troublesome +Necklace affair. Prompted, no doubt, by Madame de la Motte, the +cardinal seems to have hinted to the financier that it would be a +good opportunity for him to secure the queen’s favour, and with it +the <i>cordon rouge</i>, of which Saint-James was particularly ambitious, +by lending her majesty this 700,000 livres, for the payment of the +first instalment. Saint-James was not unwilling; still he was over +cautious, and said that on hearing one word from the queen the +amount should be forthcoming.⁠<a id="FNanchor_149" href="#Footnote_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a> Georgel says that the reason the +affair fell through was because the forger Villette was, as will afterwards +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>appear, away at that particular juncture at Bar-sur-Aube, +and the written word consequently was not forthcoming until it was +too late,⁠<a id="FNanchor_150" href="#Footnote_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a> owing to which lucky accident Saint-James saved his +700,000 livres, which the countess would certainly have spirited +away in her usual fashion if the chance had only been afforded her.</p> + +<p>After consulting with their most pressing creditors, Böhmer and +Bassenge gave a reluctant consent to the postponement asked for; +but while the affair is still under consideration, the countess, getting +alarmed, brings the cardinal 30,000 livres, which she tells him +the queen has sent as interest on the retarded payment. Thirty +thousand francs as interest on seven hundred thousand francs for +two months, or at the rate of nearly twenty-six per cent., and the +client, too, a queen! Madame de la Motte had evidently foreseen +the famous axiom of Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington, though +in an inverted form. With her, bad security implied high interest.</p> + +<p>This 30,000 livres, we are told by the Abbé Georgel, only confirmed +the most credulous of mortals in the conviction he entertained +of the entire truth of all that Madame de la Motte had +asserted. He at once hastened to the jewellers, who accepted the +amount, not as interest, but on account of the principal. A few +days afterwards, namely, on the 3rd of August, Böhmer, who +occasionally visited the father-in-law of Madame Campan, went +down to his country-house at Crespy—whether or not by invitation +from Madame Campan does not appear—when Madame Campan +repeated to him all that the queen had desired her to say. Böhmer, +she tells us, seemed petrified, and asked how it was that the queen +had been unable to understand the meaning of the letter he had +presented to her.</p> + +<p>“I read it myself,” replied Madame Campan, “and I could make +nothing of it.”</p> + +<p>Böhmer observed that he was not surprised at that, as there was +a certain mystery in the affair respecting which she was ignorant, +but of which he would inform her fully if she would accord him a +private interview.</p> + +<p>“When I had got rid of the persons who required my presence +in the drawing-room,” says Madame Campan, “I went with Böhmer +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>down one of the garden-walks.” Here the promised explanation +was given, on hearing which Madame Campan was “so struck with +horror,” “so absorbed in grief,” that a storm of thunder and rain +came on while they were talking together without exciting her attention. +During this conversation Böhmer stated that the queen, +having changed her mind respecting his “grand Necklace,” and +having determined to purchase it, had employed the Cardinal de +Rohan as her agent in the transaction.</p> + +<p>Madame Campan at once told the crown jeweller that he was deceived, +for the queen had never spoken to the cardinal since his +return from Vienna, and there was not an individual at court less +favourably looked upon than the grand almoner.</p> + +<p>“You are deceived yourself, madame,” replied Böhmer; “the +queen must see him in private, for it was to his eminence that she +gave 30,000 livres which were paid me on account; she took them +in his presence⁠<a id="FNanchor_151" href="#Footnote_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a> out of the little <i>secrétaire</i> of Sèvres porcelain next +the fireplace in her boudoir. This the cardinal told me himself.”</p> + +<p>Böhmer further stated that he had in his possession all the notes +signed by the queen, and that he had even been obliged to show +these to various bankers in order to induce them to grant him an +extension of time for his payments.</p> + +<p>Madame Campan, thunderstruck at what she heard, assured +poor Böhmer that he was the victim of a detestable plot; whereupon +the jeweller confessed that he began to feel alarmed, as the +cardinal had declared to him that the queen would be certain to +wear the Necklace on Whit Sunday, and he, Böhmer, was greatly +astonished when he saw that she did not have it on. On asking +Madame Campan what she thought he ought to do, she advised +him to go at once to the Baron de Breteuil, and tell him candidly +all that had passed, and be ruled entirely by him. Instead of doing +this Böhmer hurried off to the cardinal. What transpired at this +interview is not known, but the following memorandum, in the +grand almoner’s handwriting, was said to have been found in a +drawer at the Hôtel de Strasbourg at the time a search was made +for the cardinal’s papers:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span></p> + +<p>“On this day, 3rd August, Böhmer went to Madame Campan’s +country house, and she told him that the queen had never had the +Necklace, and that he had been cheated.”</p> + +<p>Böhmer must have spoken to the cardinal beforehand of his contemplated +visit to Crespy, for the cardinal admitted that, having +regard to the queen’s injunction to keep her name a perfect secret +in the affair of the Necklace, he had urged Böhmer not to speak to +Madame Campan on the subject, and in the event of any questions +being asked him to say the Necklace had been sent abroad.⁠<a id="FNanchor_152" href="#Footnote_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The half-crazy jeweller next hastened to the Little Trianon, but +failed in obtaining an interview with Marie-Antoinette. A day or +two afterwards, the queen having sent for Madame Campan to +rehearse with her the part of <i>Rosina</i>, which she was to play in +Beaumarchais’ comedy, “The Barber of Seville,” at her private +theatre at the Little Trianon, took an opportunity of asking her +why she had sent Böhmer to her (who had been to speak to her, +saying that he came at Madame Campan’s request), when she did +not wish to see him.</p> + +<p>“The expression,” remarks Madame Campan, “which this man’s +name produced on my features must have been very marked, for +the queen observed it, and commenced questioning me. I begged +her to see him; I assured her that it was necessary to her tranquillity; +that an intrigue was being carried on of which she was +ignorant; that it was a grave one, since agreements signed by her +had been shown to people who had lent money to Böhmer. Her +surprise and annoyance were great. She made me relate several +times the whole of my conversation with him, and complained +bitterly of the vexation she felt at the circulation of forged notes +signed with her name; but she could not conceive how the cardinal +could be involved in the affair. This was a labyrinth to her, and +her mind was lost in it. She ordered me to remain at Trianon, +while she sent off a courier to Paris, under a pretext which I have +now forgotten. He returned the next morning, the very day of +the representation of the comedy, which was the last amusement +the queen allowed herself in this retreat.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_153" href="#Footnote_153" class="fnanchor">[153]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XX">XX.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785. Feb.–June.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE DIAMONDS ARE DISPERSED.—COUNT DE LA MOTTE GOES TO +ENGLAND ON BUSINESS.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The De la Mottes had spirited away the Necklace it is true, but +how were they to turn it into hard cash? Every working jeweller +in France knew this famed piece of <i>bijouterie</i> by repute almost as +well as if he had had a hand in its manufacture. The only plan, +therefore, was for them, somehow or other, to remove the diamonds +from their settings, and to dispose of them piecemeal. The first +the De la Mottes contrived to do after a fashion by means of a +knife or some such instrument; the last they found a difficult and +even dangerous undertaking.</p> + +<p>On the 15th of February⁠<a id="FNanchor_154" href="#Footnote_154" class="fnanchor">[154]</a> the countess’s first secretary and the +forger of the queen’s signature to the contract with the jewellers, +Rétaux de Villette, who was of course as deep in the plot as the +De la Mottes themselves, was intrusted with about forty of the +smaller stones to sell to two Jew diamond-merchants named Adam +and Vidal for four hundred francs a-piece. Vidal, believing the +diamonds to be stolen, gave information to the police, and the consequence +was that Villette was arrested and subjected to an +examination, in the course of which he was constrained to give up +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>the name of the Countess de la Motte as that of the person who +had intrusted him with the diamonds to sell. Madame being well +known of old to M. Lenoir, lieutenant-general of police, to whom it +will be remembered one of her begging letters was referred,⁠<a id="FNanchor_155" href="#Footnote_155" class="fnanchor">[155]</a> and +her reputation being of the shadiest in her particular “<i>quartier</i>” +M. Lenoir gave directions to the inspector who had arrested +Villette to make diligent search at the “<i>Bureau de Sureté</i>” for information +respecting any recent robbery of diamonds. Nothing +whatever being discovered to implicate Villette in the least degree, +he was discharged, and the diamonds were restored to him.⁠<a id="FNanchor_156" href="#Footnote_156" class="fnanchor">[156]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>This was a narrow escape for Villette, who naturally enough declined +putting his liberty in jeopardy a second time. The consequence +was that, burdened though the De la Mottes now were with +diamonds, they were unable to turn them to profitable account. +If attempting to dispose of a few of the smallest stones excited all +this suspicion, whatever would come to pass, thought they, if any +quantity of the larger brilliants were publicly offered in the +market? The thieves are for the moment at their wits’ ends, and +do not appear to have been particularly fertile in their expedients, +for what next suggests itself to them is to get hold of a young +fellow of dubious character calling himself Jean-Charles-Vincent de +Bette d’Étienville, whom Rétaux de Villette has met with at some +café—singularly enough the Café Valois—and under the assumed +characters of the Dame de Courville, personated by Madame de la +Motte, the Sieur Augeard, her steward, personated by Villette, and +the Councillor Marsilly, personated by the Count de la Motte, to +make him their pretended confidant in a cock-and-bull story about +the lady desiring with a view of legitimatizing a child she has had +by some very great nobleman, to get married to some gentleman of +title, to whom a bonus of one hundred thousand livres would be +given on the day of the wedding. They represented, however, +that before this arrangement could be carried into effect, it would +be necessary to dispose of the lady’s diamonds, which were valued +at four hundred and thirty-two thousand livres; and it was proposed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>to Bette that he should take them to Holland, and sell +them to the diamond merchants of Amsterdam—madame of course +either accompanying him, or dogging his footsteps to ensure his +not giving them the slip. Bette, although he found out a gentleman +of title ready and willing to save a lady’s reputation at the +price of one hundred thousand livres, cash down, seems to have +drawn back at this latter suggestion, which foreboded danger he +fancied; and all madame’s powers of fascination and persuasion +proving of no avail, this abortive scheme had to be abandoned.⁠<a id="FNanchor_157" href="#Footnote_157" class="fnanchor">[157]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>All this was of course very disheartening. To have plotted and +schemed, and watched and waited, and after doubts and misgivings, +and positive fears and dangers, to have at length achieved success, +and then for success to prove barren, was something awful. For +the moment it seemed as though there was nothing to be done except +to barter away as many diamonds as they could, and to have +others reset to wear as personal ornaments. It was certainly no +use hiding so much brilliancy under a bushel. At the commencement +of March we find the Count de la Motte strolling into the shop +of Furet, clockmaker to the king, Rue Saint-Honoré, with whom +he had had previous dealings, and buying from him three clocks, +price three thousand seven hundred and twenty livres, and giving +him a couple of diamonds, which the jeweller values at two +thousand seven hundred livres, on account. A day or two afterwards +madame herself calls with a number of diamonds, which she +wishes to have mounted encircling a watch; but Furet explains +to her that the stones are too large for this purpose, and suggests +mounting them as bracelets.⁠<a id="FNanchor_158" href="#Footnote_158" class="fnanchor">[158]</a> She also exchanges a diamond with +a Jew for a couple of china pomade pots, and pays a visit to the +goldsmith Regnier—of whom she had bought a pair of diamond +bracelets and the handsome service of silver plate with which it +will be remembered she astonished her Bar-sur-Aube connections +in the preceding year, paying for the same with the cardinal’s +money—and commissions him to set a couple of large diamonds, +which she brings with her, in rings, one for herself and the other +for her husband.⁠<a id="FNanchor_159" href="#Footnote_159" class="fnanchor">[159]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span></p> + +<p>Transactions of this character, however, did not put them in +possession of the one thing needful—namely, ready cash. +Diamonds were with them as plentiful as blackberries, but +diamonds are not meat and drink, and are at best but an indifferent +circulating medium, and the De la Mottes were getting +painfully hard up. The countess, however, proved herself as +usual equal to the occasion.</p> + +<p>Unknown to her husband, she sells a parcel of twenty-two +diamonds to one Paris, a jeweller—to whom she had been introduced +by M. Filleul, a lawyer of Bar-sur-Aube, and an occasional +visitor at the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles—for the sum of fifteen +thousand livres, and subsequently disposes of sixteen more +diamonds to the same person for the sum of sixteen thousand +livres.⁠<a id="FNanchor_160" href="#Footnote_160" class="fnanchor">[160]</a> This furnished her with sufficient funds to pack the +Count de la Motte over to England with a letter of credit for a +couple of thousand crowns,⁠<a id="FNanchor_161" href="#Footnote_161" class="fnanchor">[161]</a> and the bulk of the larger diamonds +belonging to the Necklace. These diamonds, which the countess +had first declared were sold at the request and on behalf of the +Cardinal de Rohan, she afterwards pretended she had received as +a gift from the queen, and it will be noticed at the outset of the +following narrative that the count takes up this cue, although he +stated to the English jewellers that the gems were a family heirloom. +This narrative of the count’s is not wanting in circumstantiality, +still, like everything else emanating from the De la +Motte mint, it has the customary false stamp upon it, more particularly +in that portion relating to the amount said to have been +received for the diamonds which the count succeeded in disposing +of, as we shall by-and-by show. It should be remembered that +this statement was not made public until long after the fact of the +sale and purchase of the diamonds in question had been proved +beyond a shadow of doubt by the English jewellers concerned in +the transaction.</p> + +<p>“I arrived in London,” says the count, “on the 17th of April, +1785, with the Chevalier O’Neil, who was perfectly acquainted +with the object of my journey. As he knew the countess was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>admitted to the queen, I made no mystery to him <i>of the present +she had received from her majesty</i>, nor of my motive for parting +with the diamonds in London. I had a letter of credit on Messrs. +Morland and Co., to whom I went the day after my arrival. On +making inquiry for the most noted jewellers, I was directed to +Jefferys and to Gray; I first saw Jefferys, who lived in Piccadilly, +told him I had some diamonds to dispose of, and left him my +address. The next morning he came to my lodgings, where I +showed him the eighteen oval stones that belonged to the Necklace, +and acquainted him with the price <i>which the cardinal had fixed</i>. +He requested me to let him take them home in order to examine +them, and offered me his acknowledgment, which I accepted. +He promised to bring me an answer in four days; the next day I +set out with the Chevalier O’Neil for Newmarket. During five +days that we remained there, I gained by betting nine hundred +and sixty guineas, sixty of which I expended in travelling expenses, +the purchase of clothes, and various other articles.</p> + +<p>“On my return to London, I went to Jefferys, who told me that +a gentleman had offered four thousand pounds sterling; that he +could not pay ready money, but would give notes at six and +twelve months’ date, and would find ample security. I told him +I would consider of it, took back my diamonds, and returned him +his acknowledgment. The same day I went to Gray’s in New Bond +Street,⁠<a id="FNanchor_162" href="#Footnote_162" class="fnanchor">[162]</a> left with him the largest oval stone, and directed him to +come to me the next day, when I would let him see a greater +quantity; the same day I purchased of him a self-winding watch. +The next day he came with a Jew named Eliason. I intrusted +him with the same stones I had left in Jefferys’ hands; he told me +he had already examined them, and that a broker whom Jefferys +employed had brought them to him. I then let him know the +offer that Jefferys had made me, and the terms of payment, adding, +that not knowing Jefferys, nor the person he had recommended to +me, I did not choose to part with so considerable a property upon +credit. That besides, I proposed staying but a few days in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>London, whither I might probably never again return, and that I +did not think proper to leave anything behind me that might +create any anxiety.</p> + +<p>“He answered that I was perfectly in the right, and that if we +agreed on the price he would pay me ready money. I told him +my price: he took away the diamonds, and promised to bring an +answer the following day; which he did, but still accompanied by +Gray. He made me an offer of three thousand guineas, which I +would not accept. After pointing out stones that had flaws and +other defects they left me, with an assurance that the offer they +made me for ready money was very adequate; and that I should +not meet with a more eligible one. I let them go away, telling +them I would keep my diamonds rather than part with them at +that price.</p> + +<p>“Next morning they returned, and asked to inspect the +diamonds a second time: I permitted them. O’Neil was present, +as well as my <i>valet de chambre</i>. Eliason then drew out of his +pocket a pearl necklace, consisting of two very beautiful rows, a +snuff-box set with brilliants and pearls, with a medallion on the +lid, and several parcels of pearl seed. He valued these several +articles at about five hundred and sixty pounds sterling. I said +that if he would give me four thousand pounds, together with +those articles, the bargain was struck. He exclaimed loudly, and +then made a motion to go, offering three thousand pounds and the +articles I had selected—a proposal which I rejected.</p> + +<p>“In the interim Jefferys made a second application; I told him +my resolution was to sell them for ready money only. I then +delivered to him thirteen stones of the first quality I possessed; +the two finest, which belonged to the Necklace, not having been +given to the countess; and no doubt but the queen made a present +of them to Mademoiselle Dorvat, or some other woman in her intimacy, +for there were several which were similar. I had selected +two, one intended to be set in a ring for the countess, the other for +myself. Regnier, my jeweller at Paris, set them before my departure +for London.⁠<a id="FNanchor_163" href="#Footnote_163" class="fnanchor">[163]</a> Both myself and the countess commonly +wore them. The cardinal has seen them both.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span></p> + +<p>“I called the next day at Gray’s to purchase several articles in +steel; there I found Eliason, who told me I was over-tenacious, +that his offer was a very fair one. He showed me some very fine +pearls for a pair of bracelets, and a ring forming a neck-button; +I went into a separate apartment, where we entered into a bargain. +After two hours’ difficulty on both sides we at length agreed +upon a price for the eighteen oval stones, viz., three thousand +pounds sterling ready money; the pearl necklace of two rows, +valued at two hundred pounds, the snuff-box one hundred and +forty, the pearl-seed one hundred and twenty, and a diamond star +which I took in Gray’s shop, valued at three hundred.</p> + +<p>“This was the first bargain. When I had received the money +and jewels, he told me that Jefferys’ broker had brought him other +diamonds which were no doubt my property; that if I chose to +sell them, I had better do business with him than with another: +that I should gain by it the commission and some ready money. +I went the same day and took out of Jefferys’ hands the thirteen +stones I had left in his possession. He had come to the knowledge +of my dealing with Gray, and being vexed at having missed the +opportunity of making the purchase himself, he upon that account +pretended, as will be seen hereafter, that he had acted respecting +the diamonds with more propriety than Gray, for that he, Jefferys, +surmising the diamonds to have been stolen, had given notice at a +police office (which in fact was a falsehood⁠<a id="FNanchor_164" href="#Footnote_164" class="fnanchor">[164]</a>⁠), and had refused to +buy them. He afterwards the more readily made a declaration to +this purpose before a certain notary named Dubourg, at the request +of M. de Carbonnières, agent for the cardinal, as he said he believed +me to be in Turkey, and depended upon never seeing me +again in England. His behaviour to me when I returned to +London will show how <i>delicate</i> this Jefferys was in his conduct; +since he came to me after judgment was passed to ask me whether +I had not any diamonds to dispose of, telling me he would be the +purchaser, and allow me a greater advantage than Gray would. It +will soon be seen what answer I made him, and the method I took +in order to make apparent what the justificatory writings produced +by the cardinal consisted in.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span></p> + +<p>“The thirteen stones taken from Jefferys I carried to Gray, telling +him I would come the next day to his shop myself, and that +he might appoint Eliason to be there at the same hour. The +departure of the Chevalier O’Neil prevented my keeping the appointment. +He had received a letter from his brother and another from +his colonel, requiring his return with all possible speed to join his +regiment by the 15th of May. He had not been able to obtain a +longer leave of absence as he hoped; the troops the emperor was +then marching towards Holland were the occasion of the orders he +had received: he was therefore forced to leave me in London. He +took charge of several purchases I had made, and of the parcel of +pearls I had got in exchange. As he went by the coach, he took +his place the day before at Mr. Guyon’s office, where he found the +Capuchin McDermott, a professed spy, who for the things made +known to me by his own confession (and those certainly are the +most harmless) deserves to be made an example of. The Capuchin +knew the Chevalier O’Neil, with whom he renewed acquaintance; +and finding in the course of conversation he had come over with +me, he begged he would introduce him to me, which the chevalier +did. He told me that as I did not understand English he would +be my interpreter, and do me all the little services in his power. +I accepted his obliging offer, and that day he dined with me. He +had been procurator of his order at Vassy, six leagues distant from +Bar-sur-Aube; he knew my family, and had seen me, by his +account, a child.</p> + +<p>“In this, my first interview, I did not communicate to him anything +relative to my having diamonds to dispose of; in short, I +acquainted him with no particulars beyond that I had money to +remit to Paris. He answered that he knew a merchant in the City +named Motteaux, that if I negotiated through his means he would +allow me the same advantage as to traders, whereas Mr. Hammersly +would deal with me as with a nobleman. He calculated the benefit I +should reap by placing that sum with Mr. Motteaux, and as it seemed +to me rather considerable, and he persuaded me that Mr. Hammersly +would not make me the same allowance, I determined to go to +Mr. Motteaux, whither he accompanied me. I delivered to him +the three thousand pounds sterling I had already received on the +former bargain.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span></p> + +<p>McDermott, it seems, when he and the Count de la Motte were +taking a stroll together in Kensington Gardens, questioned the +count, in an off-hand Irish way, as to the sources of his wealth, +and hinted that he must have made some lucky coups at the +gaming-table—one had not to know the count long to discover +that he was a practised gambler—whereupon the count replied, in +the coolest manner possible, that he was not partial to “play.” +“The truth is,” said he, “I married Madame de la Motte, with +her slender income of eight hundred francs, against the wishes of +my family, as I had not a single franc of my own; but we came +up to Paris, when Madame and the Countess d’Artois recommended +us to several of the ministers, who in their turn recommended the +countess to lay her case before the queen. She did so, was taken +into favour, and hence our present affluence.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_165" href="#Footnote_165" class="fnanchor">[165]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“Let us return now to the thirteen diamonds I had left with +Gray. When the Chevalier O’Neil was gone I went to that +jeweller, who immediately sent into the City to let Eliason know +I waited for him at his house. He came, but we made no bargain; +eight or ten days passed away in fruitless meetings and considerations. +They often told me they wondered how a gentleman +should have such a knowledge of diamonds as to ascertain the +exact value of them; but that I certainly must be sensible that +such articles were difficult to dispose of; that they should perhaps +be obliged to keep them two or three years upon their hands, during +which time the interest of the money was lost, and other things to +the same purport. At length, after much trouble and delay, we +came to a settlement for the thirteen stones, for the sum of two +thousand pounds sterling, ready money; a ring, convertible into a +neck button, valued at two hundred pounds sterling, and for which +I lately got but one hundred; a parcel of very fine pearls for the +mounting of a pair of bracelets, valued at a hundred and fifty +pounds; another parcel of pearls for sixty pounds, and a pair +of girandole earrings, valued at five hundred pounds. Such were +the two bargains I made with Eliason in presence of Gray. Six +diamonds, which formed the trefoil of two oval ones, I exchanged +at Gray’s for a medallion set round with brilliants, two steel swords, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>a shirt-pin, a pair of asparagus tongs, and a wine syphon. Four +more diamonds which were between the rose and the four tassels +were likewise exchanged at Gray’s for a ring, still in my possession, +a small hoop of diamond-seeds, a lady’s pocket-case, in satin +and gold, with all its fittings, a pair of steel buckles, and a +miniature.</p> + +<p>“I had sixty diamonds left, arising from the tassels, twenty-two +from the festoons, and the stone which formed the button. Out +of the sixty I selected twenty-eight, which I gave to Gray to set in +drop earrings; and the two-and-twenty of the festoons to make +into a necklace of one single row. I then had left only thirty-two +stones arising from the tassels, and stone forming the button. I +chose the sixteen finest, which I kept unmounted, and the remaining +sixteen I parted with to Gray, at the rate of eighty livres the +carat, out of which I bought in his shop sundry small matters not +worth mentioning. Thus terminated all my negotiations for diamonds +in London.</p> + +<p>“I had still remaining the button stone, which I showed to Mr. +Morland, asking him whether he could not find an opportunity of +selling it to my advantage. He said he would let an acquaintance +inspect it, and let me know his answer in two or three days. +He did so by telling me he had the stone in his bank, and that one +thousand guineas had been offered for it, which he believed might +be increased to twelve hundred. He proposed my calling in Pall +Mall to take the diamond, and from thence go into the city to Mr. +Duval’s, the person who made the offer; but that he believed it +was not for himself. We met with Mr. Duval, who showed me +several articles in jewellery. I told him my design was not to purchase +any, since I was, on the contrary, come to treat with him +about a diamond which Mr. Morland had given him to inspect. +After surveying it a second time, he told me that the person to +whom he had shown it offered but one thousand pounds, which he +(Duval) looked upon to be its full value. I took back the diamond, +and resolved to keep it till I found a means to dispose of it +more advantageously. The same day I gave it to Gray to set in a +ring.</p> + +<p>“Let us now proceed to the enumeration of those stones that +were sold and exchanged in Paris. Before my departure for England, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>the countess had delivered to M. Filleul some diamonds, +which she had kept privately, that had formed part of the festoons +and knots of the tassels; she desired him to sell them for her, and +pay her the money, charging him not to make me acquainted with +it. He sold the whole parcel to one Paris, a jeweller, for the sum +of twenty-eight thousand French livres (francs). Two stones, part +of the festoons, were exchanged by me for two pendulum clocks at +one Furet’s, in the Rue St. Honoré, with twenty-five louis-d’or in +addition. One diamond, in like manner from the festoons, was set +in a ring by Regnier, my jeweller. I had a chain in small brilliants +which Franks the Jew had sold me; that I gave to Regnier, adding +a few small diamonds which belonged to the knots of the tassels, +the whole of which he made into a chain, which the cardinal’s +counsel valued at forty thousand livres. I with much difficulty +parted with it for <i>sixty pounds sterling</i> in London. It was nearly +the same with every particular; they were, in order to obtain their +ends, obliged to multiply the price for which every article sold in +a like proportion; and thus, from this false estimation, endeavour +to prove that the <i>whole</i> of the Necklace had been in my possession.</p> + +<p>“I had now left in all sixteen diamonds which I had brought +back from London, four-and-twenty very small ones, which were on +the sides of each oval stone at the bottom of the tassels, twenty-eight +encircling the two large oval stones, two small ones on each +side of the button, eighteen of the small size, six of which held the +two oval stones between the festoon, and the twelve others which +were immediately adjoining to the ribbon at top. The rose and +what held the tassels were not yet taken to pieces. I delivered +the whole to Regnier, out of all which he selected the best diamonds, +and nearly of an equality, to encircle the top of a bonbonnière +and mount a small pair of drop earrings which the countess +wanted to make a present of. The remainder I directed him to +sell, for which he got thirteen or fourteen thousand livres. These +made up the number of what I sold, as well at Paris as at London. +Let us now recapitulate.</p> + +<p>“I received in ready money in London <i>five thousand pounds</i> +sterling from Mr. Eliason, and fifty or sixty pounds from Mr. Gray.</p> + +<p>“In exchange I received a medallion, a pair of girandole +earrings, a ring, a shirt-pin, a hoop, two steel swords, a pair of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>steel buckles, one pound of pearl-seed, two rows of pearls forming +a necklace, a mount for bracelets, a small parcel of pearls, a neck-button +convertible into a ring, a snuff-box, a pair of asparagus +tongs, a wine syphon, a lady’s pocket-case in satin and gold with +its fittings, a miniature, and a pen-case of roses valued at sixty +pounds sterling.⁠<a id="FNanchor_166" href="#Footnote_166" class="fnanchor">[166]</a> Some few other small articles I had from Gray’s +shop, as needles, knives, steel forks, spring-pincers, scissors, a pair +of silver buckles, an opera glass, a small steel watch-chain.</p> + +<p>“I sold at Paris to M. Paris several diamonds to the amount of +twenty-eight thousand livres, and I received nearly fifty louis-d’or +for a part of the pearl-seed carried from London by the Chevalier +O’Neil. The remainder of the pearl-seed was sold to Mordecai, a +Jew residing in the Rue aux Ours.</p> + +<p>“I have already said I had delivered to Gray twenty-two stones +to set in a necklace, and twenty-six⁠<a id="FNanchor_167" href="#Footnote_167" class="fnanchor">[167]</a> for drop earrings. I had acquainted +him with the day of my departure, and he had promised +the work should be completed; yet the day previous thereto he +showed me all the pieces, only sketched, assuring me there was a +great deal more work than he had at first imagined, and that if I +would leave them with him he had an opportunity of conveying +them to Paris within a fortnight. I left him the diamonds with +my address, and set out upon my journey on a Sunday morning +with the Capuchin McDermott, who attended me as far as Dover. +At parting with him I made him a present of a snuff-box with a +very handsome painting on the lid, and defrayed his journey back +to London.</p> + +<p>“When I left Paris I had taken credit for two thousand crowns; +I won at Newmarket near a thousand pounds sterling: out of both +which sums I expended a hundred guineas in saddlery, harness, +and race-horse body-cloths, a hundred guineas more for a phaeton, +a hundred and fifty guineas in English stuffs and clothes for myself +and servants; the rest was spent in travelling, and during my six +weeks’ stay in London, which will not appear extraordinary when +it is known I had taken up my residence at one of the principal +hotels in that town, that I kept two servants, a hired coach, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>two saddle horses, that I often gave entertainments, and that +keeping the most fashionable company, I was obliged to play and +enter into expensive pleasures.</p> + +<p>“All I now had left of the famous Necklace were two rings—one +for myself, the other belonging to the countess—a small +diamond mounted on a plum-coloured stone, a pair of drop earrings, +and a circle on a black tortoiseshell-box, and what I had left +with Gray—namely, the necklace of twenty-two stones and the +earrings.</p> + +<p>“Thus I have given a minute detail of the diamonds I possessed +and of the manner in which I had disposed of them.</p> + +<p>“From the account I have kept and have just set forth of all +the diamonds I had in my possession or that of the countess belonging +to the Necklace, and by comparing it with an exact representation +thereof engraved on a scale of the size of the diamonds, +it appears that the queen had kept <i>two hundred and fifty-six diamonds</i> +of the same magnitude, <i>ninety-eight</i> smaller ones of the +same form, and the <i>two finest diamonds</i> of the first size. The two +hundred and fifty-six diamonds were what composed the most +beautiful part of the Necklace, on account of the assemblage and +the regularity of so great a number of stones.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_168" href="#Footnote_168" class="fnanchor">[168]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for the count’s reputation for accuracy, a sworn +affidavit of Gray’s, setting forth a true extract from his ledger, and +produced at the time of the trial, gives the following version of his +dealings with the count. This not only shows a considerable +variation of price in respect to several articles received in exchange, +but yields in round numbers a total of nearly three thousand +pounds in excess of the amount admitted by the count to have +been received:—</p> + +<p class="right"><i>Monsieur le Comte de Valois, of London</i>,<br> +<span style="margin-right: 5.0em;"><span class="smcap">Dr.</span> to <span class="smcap">Robert Gray</span>.</span><br> +<span style="margin-right: 7.0em;"><i>May 20th, 1785.</i></span></p> + +<table> + <tr> + <th></th> + <th>£</th> + <th><i>s.</i></th> + <th><i>d.</i></th> + <th colspan="3" class="bl">Prices quoted<br>by Count de<br>la Motte.</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A medallion set with diamonds</td> + <td class="tdpg">230</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A diamond ring</td> + <td class="tdpg">94</td> + <td class="tdpg">10</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A pearl knot for a lady</td> + <td class="tdpg">52</td> + <td class="tdpg">10</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>A hand fire-screen</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">4</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A funnel and glass</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">6</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A purse</td> + <td class="tdpg">4</td> + <td class="tdpg">14</td> + <td class="tdpg">6</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A handsome steel sword</td> + <td class="tdpg">100</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Ditto ditto</td> + <td class="tdpg">45</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Two toothpick-cases</td> + <td class="tdpg">12</td> + <td class="tdpg">12</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A carving-knife and fork</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">4</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A pair of blue steel buckles</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">18</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>2000 needles</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">10</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A strong casket</td> + <td class="tdpg">5</td> + <td class="tdpg">5</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A diamond hoop ring</td> + <td class="tdpg">13</td> + <td class="tdpg">13</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Four razors</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Setting a diamond ring</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">8</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A ring-case</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">8</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A silk pocket-case, with fittings complete</td> + <td class="tdpg">12</td> + <td class="tdpg">12</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A corkscrew</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">12</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A handsome star-shaped diamond brooch</td> + <td class="tdpg">400</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">300</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A pair of asparagus tongs</td> + <td class="tdpg">2</td> + <td class="tdpg">12</td> + <td class="tdpg">6</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A gold watch</td> + <td class="tdpg">38</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A purse</td> + <td class="tdpg">4</td> + <td class="tdpg">14</td> + <td class="tdpg">6</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A cord for a cane</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A pair of scales for diamonds</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A wine syphon</td> + <td class="tdpg">5</td> + <td class="tdpg">5</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A pair of spring pincers</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">10</td> + <td class="tdpg">6</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A pearl necklace</td> + <td class="tdpg">170</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">200</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>1800 pearls</td> + <td class="tdpg">270</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">120</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A diamond aigrette in the form of a rose</td> + <td class="tdpg">60</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">60</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A pair of steel buckles</td> + <td class="tdpg">18</td> + <td class="tdpg">18</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A watch-chain</td> + <td class="tdpg">6</td> + <td class="tdpg">16</td> + <td class="tdpg">6</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A handsome pair of diamond girandole earrings</td> + <td class="tdpg">600</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">500</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A brilliant ring</td> + <td class="tdpg">100</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">200</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A diamond snuff-box</td> + <td class="tdpg">120</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">140</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A diamond shirt-button</td> + <td class="tdpg">28</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A pair of buckles</td> + <td class="tdpg">7</td> + <td class="tdpg">7</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Ditto ditto</td> + <td class="tdpg">3</td> + <td class="tdpg">13</td> + <td class="tdpg">6</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>A parcel of pearl-seed and other pearls, for embroidery</td> + <td class="tdpg">1890</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">210</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Paid in cash</td> + <td class="tdpg">6090</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl">5060</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + <td class="tdpg">0</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">Total</td> + <td class="tdpg total">£10,371</td> + <td class="tdpg total">6</td> + <td class="tdpg total">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">Credit by value received in various diamonds</td> + <td class="tdpg total">£10,371</td> + <td class="tdpg total">6</td> + <td class="tdpg total">0</td> + <td class="tdpg bl"><a id="FNanchor_169" href="#Footnote_169" class="fnanchor">[169]</a></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + <td class="tdpg"></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span></p> + +<p>While the count was away leading a life of ease and pleasure—bargaining, +it is true, about diamonds to-day, but “betting at +Newmarket” on the morrow, riding about town in his “hired +coach” or on his “saddle horse,” with his groom behind, giving +“occasional entertainments at the principal hotels,” “keeping the +most fashionable company,” “playing deeply,” and “entering into +the most expensive pleasures,”—while all this was going on, +madame the countess was putting off troublesome inquiries respecting +her husband’s whereabouts as best she could, saying one +day that he was in Berry looking after a legacy, at another time +that he was in Poictou, and finally that he was in England, where +he had won £1000 on a horse-race.⁠<a id="FNanchor_170" href="#Footnote_170" class="fnanchor">[170]</a> Still she managed to enjoy +herself after her own fashion. Cardinal Prince de Rohan reluctantly +admitted that she visited him at the episcopal palace at +Saverne at the end of May, dressed in man’s clothes, and moreover, +that he had sent one of the episcopal carriages to fetch her.⁠<a id="FNanchor_171" href="#Footnote_171" class="fnanchor">[171]</a> One +can fancy the high jinks between the countess and Cagliostro, and +black-sheep Baron de Planta, and the Prince de Rohan, and “<i>la +petite comtesse</i>,” as Cagliostro’s wife was called, over the cardinal’s +matchless Tokay on this notable occasion.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXI">XXI.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785. June 22–Aug. 6.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE GATHERING OF THE STORM.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>On the 22nd of June, Count de la Motte finds himself in Paris +again, with a letter of credit for the sum of 122,896 livres in his +pocket-book on Perregaux the banker—the same shrewd Perregaux +who, according to the popular story, after refusing the services of +young Jacques Lafitte, engaged him the instant afterwards from +observing him pick up and carefully preserve a common pin as in +dejected mood he crossed the courtyard of the banker’s hôtel, and +who subsequently took him into partnership and gave him his +daughter in marriage, and so enabled him to found the great house +of Lafitte and Co., of which he was so many years the distinguished +head.</p> + +<p>The count turns his letter of credit into hard cash on the following +day,⁠<a id="FNanchor_172" href="#Footnote_172" class="fnanchor">[172]</a> and then calls upon Regnier with some of the stones he +had failed to get rid of in England, commissions him to mount the +best of them round the lid of a circular box (a <i>bonbonnière</i>), to set +others for a small pair of drop earrings which the countess intends +making a present of,⁠<a id="FNanchor_173" href="#Footnote_173" class="fnanchor">[173]</a> and sells him the remainder—namely, +twenty brilliants, weighing in the aggregate forty-two carats, one +weighing four and a quarter carats, and thirty-nine weighing fifty-nine +and a half carats—for 27,000 livres, discharging at the same time +Regnier’s claim for setting the two diamond rings for himself +and madame, and also an old debt due for either jewellery or +plate.⁠<a id="FNanchor_174" href="#Footnote_174" class="fnanchor">[174]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The De la Mottes now make no secret of the affluence which, +after years of watching and waiting, is theirs at last. Madame, +they confidentially admit, is in high favour with the queen, who, +they insinuate, showers gifts upon her confidant with no niggard +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>hand. The countess’s ambition was to be lady of the manor of +Fontette. She has the means of gratifying it now; nevertheless, +it is not to Fontette that she goes, but to Bar-sur-Aube, which, +with its somewhat free and pleasant society, has greater charms +for her. On retirement for a time to Bar-sur-Aube, her heart is +fixed. She and the count had been long looking forward to spending +the present autumn in their new abode, which by the aid of +the Parisian decorator, who for months past had been exercising +his talents upon the principal apartments, was rapidly becoming a +model of elegance and taste.</p> + +<p>One little thing, however, was somewhat troubling the De la +Mottes at this moment and casting its shadow across their anticipated +enjoyment—namely, the affair of the Necklace, the first +instalment in respect of which would soon be falling due. Still +the countess, having accomplished what she had, would surely +find it no very difficult task to arrange a postponement which +would leave her husband and herself at liberty to enjoy their +autumn holiday in peace and quietude. It is with this view that +the countess calls upon the cardinal, as we have already stated, +while the count, looking upon the affair as good as settled, hies +down to Bar-sur-Aube to await the arrival of several waggon-loads +of furniture which were on their way from Paris. Among these +we may be certain there were some handsome suites of the very +latest fashion, supplied, we know, by Héricourt, Fournier, and +Gervais, the crack upholsterers of the period, at the cost of 50,000 +livres. There was no lack of clocks too from Furet, of marble +groups from Adams and Chevalier, nor of mirrors, and chandeliers, +and table-glass, and Wedgwood ware, then getting into fashion in +Paris, from Sikes.⁠<a id="FNanchor_175" href="#Footnote_175" class="fnanchor">[175]</a> A little automaton bird too, that flew about +the room all alone, and for which madame had given 1500 livres,⁠<a id="FNanchor_176" href="#Footnote_176" class="fnanchor">[176]</a> +would certainly not be forgotten.</p> + +<p>It must have been at this particular juncture that the cardinal +chanced to see some two or three letters actually written by +Marie-Antoinette, and that, struck by the dissimilarity of the +handwriting of these letters and those received from Madame de +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>la Motte, he communicated his doubts upon the subject to the +countess.⁠<a id="FNanchor_177" href="#Footnote_177" class="fnanchor">[177]</a> She, with her active brain and ever ready tongue, had +of course a hundred reasons to prove to the credulous cardinal +that he was mistaken, and so set his mind at rest. Not so as regarded +her own; she felt none of that confidence with which she +could so readily inspire her dupe. She feared the mine was on the +point of being sprung, and that the explosion would take place before +she could make good her retreat. To reassure alike +the cardinal and the jewellers she goes with her casket of +jewels,—which Regnier tells her are worth 100,000 livres to her +notary, one Mainguet, with whom she pawns them for a loan of +35,000 livres, 30,000 of which she takes to the Prince de Rohan +to give to Böhmer and Bassenge. Then she packs off Rétaux de +Villette post-haste to Bar-sur-Aube, and so much is she taken up +with these urgent matters that she neither dines nor sups nor sleeps +at home on that day.⁠<a id="FNanchor_178" href="#Footnote_178" class="fnanchor">[178]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>One can imagine the consternation of the Count de la Motte as, +while superintending the arrangement of the new furniture and +chatting with the decorator respecting the extremely satisfactory +effect of the <i>tout ensemble</i> of madame’s boudoir, he catches sight of +Villette driving up to the house in hot haste, and looking far more +grave than is the fellow’s wont. The count rushes down the steps +to meet him—they turn aside for a few minutes’ conversation, and +after a hurried lunch, and some hasty instructions to the workpeople, +the order is given to put fresh horses to the carriage, and +the pair are soon rattling over the road to Paris. By dint of +handsome “<i>pourboires</i>” to postillions, and considerable wear and +tear of horseflesh, the hundred and forty miles that intervene between +them and the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles are got over in less +than the four-and-twenty hours. At noon on the following day +(August 3) a council is held, at which it is decided that madame +shall send a message to Bassenge, requesting him to favour her +with a call. The jeweller, in the belief that the summons can only +refer to the Necklace, takes the Hôtel de Strasbourg in his way, +sees the cardinal, speaks to him of his own and his partner’s inquietude +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>at the queen having taken no notice whatever of the +firm’s letter of July 12, and informs him of the message he has received +from Madame de la Motte, to whom he now hastens. +Bassenge finds the countess alone, with no other furniture in the +apartment beyond a bedstead and a couch, and everything about +the house betokening a sudden “flitting.” The jeweller simply +thought he was dreaming when, after the ordinary compliments +had passed between them, madame, with the calmest +of countenances and the firmest of voices, said to him: “I +have sent for you to let you know that you have been deceived—the +word ‘<i>approuvé</i>’ and the signature attached to the paper containing +the conditions of sale of the Necklace are forgeries—the +queen’s handwriting has been counterfeited. As for the rest, the +cardinal, you know, is very rich; you had better look to him, and +insist upon his rendering himself personally liable.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_179" href="#Footnote_179" class="fnanchor">[179]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Bassenge, as soon as he recovered his self-possession, hurried +home to communicate to his partner the astounding intelligence he +had just received, but Böhmer, it will be remembered, was at +Crespy with Madame Campan on this very day.⁠<a id="FNanchor_180" href="#Footnote_180" class="fnanchor">[180]</a> The jeweller +therefore resolved to look in again on the cardinal, and ask an explanation +from him. The Prince de Rohan, on being apprised of +what the countess had said, shared in the fears of the jeweller, +though he dared not avow as much. He hesitated for some time +ere he made a reply; then he strove to reassure Bassenge by affirming +that he had in his own possession a written agreement of the +queen’s, and he bade the jeweller go home and make himself perfectly +easy; and home, and somewhat easier in his mind, Bassenge +went. Great stress was laid at the trial on this mis-statement of +the cardinal’s, still we can very well understand it to have been +nothing more than an exaggeration of the fact that he was in +possession of letters which he believed to be written by the queen, +authorising the purchase of the Necklace on her behalf.</p> + +<p>When Böhmer returns home from Crespy on the following day, +the two partners compare notes, and decide that the queen ought +to be seen without a moment’s delay. To Versailles, therefore, +Böhmer hastens, but, as we have already stated, is refused an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>audience by Marie-Antoinette. A day or two afterwards, however, +he finds himself summoned by courier to wait upon the queen, who +has by this time learnt from Madame Campan the result of her +conversation at Crespy with the crown jeweller, and is anxious to +hear the astounding recital from his own lips. Böhmer, disregarding +all that Madame Campan has told him, and in the full belief +that the cardinal holds the queen’s written agreement for the purchase +of the Necklace, proceeds to Versailles in all confidence, determined +to be no longer trifled with, even by royalty itself. On +his arrival he is ushered into the queen’s private cabinet, when +Marie-Antoinette at once inquires of him: “By what fatality it is +that she is still doomed to hear of his foolish pretensions about +selling her an article which she had steadily refused for several +years?” Böhmer, reassured by what the cardinal had told Bassenge, +no longer felt any doubt as to the queen being really a +party to the purchase of the Necklace, and replied, “that he was +compelled, being unable to pacify his creditors any longer.” +“What are your creditors to me?” inquired the queen. Böhmer +then related to her seriatim all that, according to his deluded +imagination, had passed between them through the intervention of +the Cardinal de Rohan. She was equally thunderstruck, incensed, +and surprised at everything she heard. In vain did she speak; the +jeweller, alike importunate and dangerous, repeated incessantly: +“Madame, this is no time for feigning; deign to confess that you +have my Necklace, and order me some assistance, or else a bankruptcy +will soon bring the whole affair to light.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_181" href="#Footnote_181" class="fnanchor">[181]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Marie-Antoinette, driven almost frantic by this flagrant imposture +and by the wanton manner in which her name had been abused and +trifled with, immediately sent for the Abbé de Vermond, “her private +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>secretary, her confidant, and her counsellor;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_182" href="#Footnote_182" class="fnanchor">[182]</a> and subsequently +for the Baron de Breteuil—the cardinal’s two bitterest enemies. +Delighted at the prospect they saw of crushing the grand almoner, +not merely by effecting his utter ruin at court, but by disgracing +him in the eyes of all Europe, they never for a moment thought of +the consequences of permitting the name of the second personage +in the kingdom to be mixed up in a swindling transaction and +associated with those of a profligate ecclesiastic, a wholesale forger, +a Palais Royal courtesan, a sharper, and an abandoned woman and +thief.</p> + +<p>Hardly had Böhmer made his partner acquainted with what +transpired at his interview with the queen, ere another courier in +the royal livery dashes up to the door of the jewellers’ establishment—“Au +Grand Balcon,” in the Rue Vendôme—this time with +a letter from the Baron de Breteuil, minister of justice and of the +king’s household, and the Prince de Rohan’s declared enemy, again +requiring Böhmer’s attendance at Versailles. On the receipt of +this new summons, Böhmer hurries off to the cardinal for instructions +and finds his eminence by this time pretty well crazed with +this same Necklace business. Nevertheless he enjoins the jeweller +not to breathe a word about the queen, for should the minister discover +that her majesty had purchased the detested jewel, he would +certainly inform the king, and they would all be involved in one +common disgrace. Should the Baron de Breteuil question him as +to the meaning of the letter which the firm had sent to the queen, +he had better reply that it referred to some new set of diamonds +which they desired to sell to her majesty.</p> + +<p>Primed with these equivocal instructions, the crown jeweller +proceeds nervously to his interview with the minister; but +whether he was as reticent as the cardinal bade him be on the subject +of the sale of the Necklace we have our doubts. Böhmer’s +object was to get his money; but then he dared not fly in face of +the instructions he received from the minister. He therefore +played fast and loose with the cardinal, not daring to break with +him for fear he should loose his 1,400,000 livres, but betraying him, +so far as he thought he might safely venture to do, to his acknowledged +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>enemy. The result was that a few days afterwards, on the +recommendation of the Baron de Breteuil, who assured the jewellers +that they should be paid for the Necklace, a memorial was drawn +up and forwarded to the queen by the crown jewellers, wherein was +set forth a complete history of the negotiations which had been +entered into with the cardinal, and which had resulted in the sale +to him of the Necklace, as they believed, on her majesty’s account.</p> + +<p>At this point the arch <i>intrigante</i> seems to have lost her head, +for on the morning of the 4th, the day after she had made her +damaging admission to Bassenge respecting the signature to the +contract, she sends her maid to the Hôtel de Strasbourg to beg +the cardinal to call upon her. He does so, when she receives him +seemingly all in tears, and tells him that she is a victim to the +malevolence of the courtiers of Versailles, who are jealous of the +favour shown her by the queen; that she is obliged to fly to avoid +their attacks, and entreats of him to afford her an asylum until +she can provide herself with some safe retreat. The stupid +cardinal, not even yet convinced that he has been duped, or, if so, +fearing to admit as much, hesitates at first, but eventually consents +to receive her, her husband, and her maid at his hôtel.⁠<a id="FNanchor_183" href="#Footnote_183" class="fnanchor">[183]</a> The +countess afterwards pretended that it was the cardinal who sent +for her and the count; that he kept them almost prisoners, and +used every argument to induce them to cross the frontier into +Germany with all speed, so as to be out of the way when the +storm burst forth. She even went so far as to say that the count +was obliged to threaten to use force ere he could get released.⁠<a id="FNanchor_184" href="#Footnote_184" class="fnanchor">[184]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Only one motive can be suggested for the countess taking refuge +at the Palais-Cardinal. She knew, or she suspected, that the +police were watching her house and tracking her footsteps, and +she did not know how soon the outstretched hand of justice might +be upraised to strike, and she may have thought from the cardinal’s +high position, and the power and influence of his friends and connections, +that the police would not dare to violate the sanctity of +the episcopal domicile. For two entire days the De la Mottes +remained in close seclusion at the Hôtel de Strasbourg, when +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>finding the confinement irksome, or thinking possibly that the +affair would be certain to be hushed up, or that the law if put in +force would not trouble itself about a couple of fugitives hidden in +some far-away country town in the Champagne, they left the +cardinal’s on the evening of the 5th of August for their own house +in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles.</p> + +<p>Arrived there the De la Mottes without a moment’s loss of time +appear to have made arrangements for sending the forger Villette +out of the way. Madame, calling him aside, confides to him +what he is already well aware of, namely, that her affairs are +somewhat embarrassed, and that she and the count propose retiring +to Bar-sur-Aube until the storm has blown over and the +atmosphere is a trifle clearer. Placing 4000 livres in bank-notes +in her faithful secretary’s hand, “Go you,” said she, “to Italy for +a time;” and then to console the lover, whom hard necessity forced +her to abandon, she added, “I will soon recall you near me again.” +The docile Villette promised to do as he was bid. A cabriolet +seems to have been in waiting for him in the courtyard of the +countess’s house, and into it Villette got, and a little after two +o’clock in the morning he was presumed to be on his way to self-exile.⁠<a id="FNanchor_185" href="#Footnote_185" class="fnanchor">[185]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The following morning, while the count was giving some +directions respecting the last van-load of furniture, which was +then being packed in the courtyard of the hôtel, Bassenge looked +in, and in answer to his inquiries after madame’s health was informed +by the count that she had been at Versailles for the last +three days pleading for the cardinal. De la Motte added that he +had only returned from Bar-sur-Aube three days before, when he +heard about the Necklace business for the first time. “If,” remarked +he in a jocular way, “the queen should ask you the +meaning of the letter of thanks which I hear you have addressed +to her, why not say it merely meant that the Necklace had always +been at her disposition, and that it was only a renewal of the +offers of it which had been previously made?”⁠<a id="FNanchor_186" href="#Footnote_186" class="fnanchor">[186]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span></p> + +<p>No sooner had the count seen the last van-load of furniture +safely off than he went with Father Loth to Mainguet the notary, +paid him his 35,000 livres, and took away the jewels which +madame had deposited with him a few days previously.⁠<a id="FNanchor_187" href="#Footnote_187" class="fnanchor">[187]</a> These +were necessary to the coming display which the De la Mottes were +bent upon making at Bar-sur-Aube. Determined to lose no +further time, the count and countess set out the same evening for +their country retreat; and it is said that at the moment the +countess stepped into the carriage she consoled the cardinal by +promising to return the very instant he should have need of her.⁠<a id="FNanchor_188" href="#Footnote_188" class="fnanchor">[188]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXII">XXII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785. August 8–17.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">TWELVE DAYS’ STATE AT BAR-SUR-AUBE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The countess had informed Beugnot, who had called upon her a +short time previously to inquire if she had any commands for Bar-sur-Aube, +whither he was about returning to spend his holidays, +that it would not be until the commencement of October, that she +would again have the pleasure of seeing him. “I was therefore +very much surprised,” observes he, “to see Madame de la Motte +arrive at Bar-sur-Aube in the early part of August, bringing with +her her entire establishment, husband included. Villette alone remained +in Paris as a forlorn sentinel, and, what appeared most +strange, every day there arrived waggons loaded with furniture—a +far larger quantity in fact than the house would hold—and +magnificent furniture too. There were numerous handsome +mirrors and looking-glasses with which the walls of the <i>salon</i>, +already resplendent with a profusion of gilding, were decorated; +the chairs and couches, covered with beautiful tapestry, were also +gilt.⁠<a id="FNanchor_189" href="#Footnote_189" class="fnanchor">[189]</a> Furet’s clocks, and Adams and Chevalier’s marble groups +and bronzes ornamented the mantelpieces, and scattered about the +<i>salon</i> were some of those costly fancies with which the arts contrive +to tempt the extremest opulence, such as a pair of automatic +canaries that sang a duet together, and another automaton bird, +which flew about the room of itself. There were likewise two gold +musical boxes—things which have become common enough since, +but were still rare at that time; and clocks which by means of +certain mechanical arrangements displayed different scenes every +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>hour they struck. On seeing these things, one divined that they +could only have been bought by people tired of their money and +anxious for the first opportunity of flinging it out of window. In +the dining-room were two magnificent buffets on which were displayed +a profusion of valuable porcelain and two complete services +of silver plate.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_190" href="#Footnote_190" class="fnanchor">[190]</a> The hangings of the countess’s bed were of +crimson velvet trimmed with gold lace and fringe and embroidered +with gold and spangles, while the counterpane was worked all over +with pearls⁠<a id="FNanchor_191" href="#Footnote_191" class="fnanchor">[191]</a> brought, it will be remembered, by the count from +England, and for which Gray had charged him over two thousand +two hundred pounds, and which, according to the countess, were +reported in the neighbourhood to be of the value of one hundred +and fifty thousand livres. “As a consummation of imprudence,” +remarks Beugnot, “the De la Mottes exhibited a casket containing +more than two hundred thousand livres worth of diamonds, the +count himself being supplied with a far larger quantity than +seemed proper for an honest man.”</p> + +<p>“In the De la Mottes’ stables were twelve splendid horses, and +in their coach-house no fewer than five or six handsome carriages, +made in England,” says Beugnot, “with a care and intelligence +which showed that expense was the last thing these people troubled +themselves about.” Among these vehicles was a light and beautiful +cabriolet in the form of a balloon, and upwards of ten feet high. +In this singular vehicle the Count de la Motte used to drive about +the neighbourhood, stared at by the gaping peasants and townspeople.⁠<a id="FNanchor_192" href="#Footnote_192" class="fnanchor">[192]</a> +The countess when paying visits of ceremony rode in a +carriage drawn by six horses with little silver bells jingling at their +collars and foxes’ brushes flopping at their ears. She was invariably +preceded by a couple of outriders, and one day greatly +astonished the Abbot of Clairvaux—who, though a little king in +these parts, only sported four horses himself—by driving up to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>abbey gateway in this unwonted state. The number of servants +on the De la Motte establishment was considerable, and their +liveries were as a matter of course extremely rich. Among them +was one of those little negro pages called “jokeis,” then much in +fashion, engaged for madame’s special service. In short, the count +and countess at this period of their career displayed in all their +appointments a magnificence and a profusion more than rivalling +that of the wealthiest families in France.</p> + +<p>Madame’s superb embroidered robes and her valuable point lace +were only in keeping with the splendour of her household display. +As for her jewels, she no longer depended on a pair of diamond +bracelets to attract attention, for had she not now the magnificent +pair of girandole earrings for which Gray the jeweller had charged +the count six hundred pounds sterling, and the diamond star-shaped +brooch which had cost another four hundred pounds, and one of +the handsomest diamonds in the whole Necklace set as a ring by +Regnier, besides other diamond rings innumerable? The necklace, +formed of “twenty-two of the very finest diamonds from the festoons,” +which Gray had mounted in accordance with the count’s +instructions, was flashing at this moment in the jeweller’s shop +window, 13, New Bond Street, dazzling the eyes of Piccadilly and +Bond Street loungers, and exciting the envy of high-born English +beauties; for Gray, hard man that he was, would not part with the +handsome jewel to the Capuchin McDermott—whom the count had +commissioned to procure it, and who had made application for it to +Gray on the count’s behalf—until he had been paid the expense of +setting.</p> + +<p>“We used to think,” remarks Beugnot, “that the Cardinal de +Rohan paid for all this brilliant extravagance, and we admired the +good use which his eminence made of the funds of the grand almonry. +The first representation we had witnessed of the magnificence +of the De la Motte household had astonished us; at this +fresh display we felt uneasy and well nigh indignant. Neither +husband nor wife showed the least inquietude. Their dinners were +excellent; and fête followed upon fête. They endeavoured to attract +the neighbourhood to their house and get invited out in return, +and to a certain extent they succeeded.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_193" href="#Footnote_193" class="fnanchor">[193]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span></p> + +<p>Within about ten miles or so of Bar-sur-Aube is Brienne, famous +for its military school, where the young Bonaparte it will be remembered +studied mathematics and the art of war; and where, in +the neighbouring château, lived Louis Loménie de Brienne, last +Count of Brienne, who was brother of the Archbishop of Sens, +prime minister of France just before the outbreak of the Revolution, +and himself war minister for a time under Louis XVI. The ends +of both brothers were alike untimely. One, the archbishop, died +from a midnight carouse in which he was forced to join by the +Jacobin emissaries who came to carry him off from his palace at +Sens to the guillotine; the other by the guillotine itself, going +thither in the same set of tumbrils as Madame Elisabeth, the king’s +sister. At the Château de Brienne—a splendid edifice built by the +count with the large fortune he received with his wife, the daughter +of a rich <i>fermier-général</i>—as at almost every other château of importance +at this period, private theatricals appear to have been in vogue.</p> + +<p>“M. de la Motte one day mentioned to me,” remarks Beugnot, +“that he had received an invitation to one of these entertainments +at the Château de Brienne, and would be pleased if I would accompany +him and accept of a seat in his carriage. Being well known to +M. de Brienne, I acceded to the count’s request without hesitation, +and on the appointed day we set forth in a gorgeous equipage +drawn by four splendidly-caparisoned horses, and with three footmen +behind us. Prior to our starting I felt strongly inclined to +recede, as I foresaw that I should have to undergo my share of +ridicule for this ostentatious display. On our arrival at the château +we alighted to the great scandal of those who saw us arrive. +Happily for us the preparations for the play absorbed almost everybody’s +attention, and among others that of the master and mistress +of the house. We entered the <i>salon</i> so that we might be seen, and +passed from thence into the <i>salle de spectacle</i>. I was seated by the +side of M. de la Motte, and soon perceived that he was the object +of malevolent glasses, which were passed from hand to hand with +shruggings of shoulders and mocking smiles. He certainly +furnished a good subject for them, for he was dressed in a most +singular style, and, what was in the worst of taste, diamonds were +displayed in every part of his toilette at a period when the greatest +simplicity already reigned in male attire.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span></p> + +<p>One can picture the count with one side of his three-cornered +hat looped up with the magnificent diamond aigrette which he had +bought of Gray, and with the medallion set with diamonds for +which he had given two hundred and thirty pounds attached to a +ribbon round his neck; with his diamond watch-chain, his various +diamond rings, and his diamond snuff-box, value one hundred and +twenty pounds; and with one or other of the very handsome steel +swords which he had brought over with him from England swinging +at his side.</p> + +<p>“The count wore a dress coat of sky-blue cloth, a white waistcoat +embroidered all over, and breeches of canary-colour taffeta. +Still this only indicated the somewhat antiquated elegant; but here +is what completed the absurdity. Madame de la Motte had taken +it into her head to have the left facing of her husband’s coat embroidered +over with a fine bouquet of lilies and roses intermixed. +Nothing of the kind had been worn by any one up to that time, +and most certainly not since. Everybody was asking what it could +possibly mean: there were some who professed to see in it a sort of +parody upon the united escutcheons of monsieur and madame, one +of which contained <i>fleurs-de-lis</i>, the other roses. Stupidity and +self-conceit could hardly have gone further.</p> + +<p>“When the play was over we returned to the <i>salon</i>. The +assembly was composed of the distinguished families of the neighbourhood +and of men of letters from Paris—of the Abbé Morellet, +la Harpe, Masson de Morvilliers, &c. I saluted Madame de +Brienne, who scarcely condescended to nod to me in return, and +then turned her back upon me. My reception by the master of +the house was reduced to a ‘Good evening, sir,’ uttered in a dry +tone. One feels ill at ease in the midst of a numerous circle after +having been coldly received by the host and hostess. I continued +standing, not knowing whither to bend my steps in the midst of +this hostile camp, when my good star brought to the <i>salon</i> the +Count de Dampierre, a great bore, who relieved me of my difficulty +by at once seizing hold of me. He profited by the opportunity to +speak to me of innovations of every kind which were already fermenting +in his brain; and under the circumstances it was quite a +treat to me to listen to him. In order that we might not be +separated during supper, he dragged me at once to table, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>seated me by his side, when he offered me in his own person the +example of an individual capable of speaking with warmth and eating +with avidity at one and the same moment. I was occasionally a +trifle inattentive, owing to my desire to observe how my travelling-companion +was faring; but M. de Dampierre always brought me +back to the subject of his discourse. ‘Never mind him,’ he would +say, ‘he’s only some poor devil of a swell at whose expense people +have been amusing themselves for the last two hours. Do you +know him?’</p> + +<p>“‘Yes, a little.’</p> + +<p>“‘Well, what is he? Is he one of us? Does he know where +we are?’</p> + +<p>“‘Not the least in the world.’</p> + +<p>“‘Well, then, let them do what they please with him;’ and M. +de Dampierre forthwith resumed his dissertation.</p> + +<p>“I only knew from the tales told by some of the guests of the +tricks which had been played upon M. de la Motte at the supper-table. +It seems that in spite of the splendid repast spread before +his eyes he had been debarred from partaking of the slightest +nourishment, and that he rose from the table as badly ballasted +as Sancho Panza at the conclusion of the first feast served to him +under his own government. This could only have been brought +about by a concert of ‘good turns,’ the success of which enraptured +the originators who came to relate the affair to us. The +Count de Dampierre inveighed against this interruption:</p> + +<p>“‘Ah! well, well! but leave us alone; we have neither diamonds +nor canary-coloured breeches, nor bouquets embroidered at +our button-holes. There is your man cowering in the chimney-corner: +go and laugh at his expense, since he is in the humour to +submit to it, and permit us to talk sense!’</p> + +<p>“After a time M. de la Motte grew bold, and came to me to +propose that we should leave. I consented with all my heart; +but there still remained a dreg at the bottom of the cup for me to +swallow.</p> + +<p>“When I went in all humility to salute M. de Brienne, and to +ask him almost tremblingly if he had any commands to give me +for Bar-sur-Aube, he signalled to me to advance, so that in getting +clear of the hands of M. de Dampierre I fell into those of M. de +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>Brienne, who was quite M. de Dampierre’s equal in holding fast to +a good listener. M. de Brienne had not been at table, and had +had of course nothing to do with the practical jokes of which M. de +la Motte had been the victim. Indeed, he had listened with suppressed +anger to the account which had been given him of the +tricks played off upon the count, still he did not approve of my +having presented myself at his house in such company. I excused +myself as well as I could, assuring him M. de la Motte had informed +me that he was invited for that particular day. M. de +Brienne proved to me that whether M. de la Motte was invited or +not, I did very wrong to accompany him. I agreed with him, and +asked his pardon, as the shortest way of terminating the discussion, +whereupon he immediately opened a conversation upon +another subject. There were scarcely any affairs in the commune +in which M. de Brienne did not take a lively interest, and he did +me the honour to consult me upon many of them, consequently +there were plenty of materials for a lengthened conversation.</p> + +<p>“Poor M. de la Motte remained at a distance, watching our +gestures, and awaiting the moment when I should be at liberty. +During all this time people passed and repassed him with expressions +of contempt or pity. I did not dare utter his name, though +I had observed he had been waiting for me fully an hour. I risked +a first salute to M. de Brienne, as if about to take my leave, but +he paid no attention whatever to it, and continued speaking. A +few minutes afterwards I made a new attempt to release myself, +whereupon my host proposed to me to sleep at Brienne. As our +discussion continued I could see that my travelling-companion was +on live coals. At last, by a courageous effort, I succeeded in disengaging +myself, and left with M. de la Motte. We stepped into +his magnificent carriage, having behind us two footmen with lighted +torches, and a negro covered from head to foot with silver lace. +The windows of the <i>salon</i> looked out upon the court of honour of +the château; Madame de Brienne and every one present were at +the windows to observe the magnificence of our departure, and +saluted us by clapping their hands, laughing, and indulging in +mocking remarks which distinctly reached our ears. The carriage +only rolled on the faster.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_194" href="#Footnote_194" class="fnanchor">[194]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span></p> + +<p>A day or two afterwards Madame de la Motte proposed to Beugnot +to accompany her on a visit she was about to pay to the Duke +de Penthièvre, but Beugnot, not wishing to place himself in a +ridiculous position a second time, very decidedly declined the honour. +He however accepted the countess’s offer to set him down at Clairvaux, +where he had been invited, and which was on the road from +Bar-sur-Aube to Château-Villain, and to call and fetch him on her +return in the evening.</p> + +<p>“In accordance with this arrangement,” says Beugnot, “we left +Bar-sur-Aube at eight o’clock in the morning of the 17th of August, +1785, a day I shall never forget. Madame de la Motte having set +me down at Clairvaux, as had been agreed, went on to Château-Villain, +where she dined and met with a reception which astonished +those who composed the Penthièvre court. The duke himself re-conducted +the countess at her departure to the door of the <i>salon</i> +opening on to the grand staircase, an honour which he did not pay +even to duchesses, but reserved exclusively for princesses of the +blood-royal, so strongly were the lessons of Madame de Maintenon +on the honours to be paid to illegitimacy impressed upon his +mind.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_195" href="#Footnote_195" class="fnanchor">[195]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIII">XXIII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785. August 15–23.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">LETTRES-DE-CACHET IN THE ŒIL-DE-BŒUF—IN THE RUE SAINT-CLAUDE—AND +AT BAR-SUR-AUBE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>At noon on the 15th of August, 1785, on the festival of the Assumption, +and the fête-day of Marie-Antoinette, the Cardinal de Rohan, +attired in his sacerdotal robes, was waiting in the Salle de l’Œil-de-Bœuf +the arrival of the king and queen, before whom he was about +to celebrate high mass in the chapel of the Château of Versailles. +Conspicuous among the cardinal’s vestments was his gorgeously-embroidered +alb—worn by him only upon grand occasions, and +valued at upwards of one hundred thousand livres, with his arms +and device, in the form of medallions, crowning the larger and more +brilliant flowers of which the rich and elaborate design was composed.⁠<a id="FNanchor_196" href="#Footnote_196" class="fnanchor">[196]</a> +The handsome Salle de l’Œil-de-Bœuf, which takes its +name from the two bull’s-eye windows level with the ceiling, was +thronged, according to custom, with noblemen of every degree of +rank, grand court ladies, great officers of State, soldiers and +dignitaries of the Church, all watching for the doors communicating +with the royal apartments to be thrown open, and for the king +and queen to make their appearance. As it was in the days of the +Grand Monarque—as it was in Louis XVI.’s time—as it was on +that eventful morning of October 7, 1789, when the château was +stormed and the terror-stricken Marie-Antoinette fled across it for +life, when the loud cry arose of “Save the queen”—so the Salle de +l’Œil-de-Bœuf is now. Round the ceiling, from which hang suspended +three magnificent chandeliers of rock-crystal, runs a handsome +deep-gilt frieze of cupids, some with hunting-horns, and dogs +engaged in the chase; others either reaping or binding sheaves of +corn, or snaring birds or playing at see-saw. At the sides of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>doorway leading into the grand looking-glass gallery, where those +not having the <i>entrée</i> of the Œil-de-Bœuf were accustomed to congregate +to see the royal procession pass, are two equestrian portraits, +the one of Louis XIV. in the costume of a Roman warrior, +wearing, however, his customary full-bottomed wig, with Fame +crowning him with a wreath of laurel; the other of the king’s +brother, the Duke d’Orléans. Facing the same doorway is an +elaborate mythological picture representing the Grand Monarque +surrounded by his family, all being robed in exceedingly scanty +draperies, the wigs of the men forming their principal article of +attire, and all having that unpleasant leer in the eyes which the +painters of the seventeenth century seemed to have considered +peculiarly bewitching, if not quite becoming.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the doors are flung open, but, instead of the tall <i>suisse</i> +shouting out the customary announcement, “<i>Messieurs, le Roi!</i>” +the Cardinal Prince de Rohan is summoned to attend the king in +his private cabinet.</p> + +<p>On proceeding thither, the grand almoner found the king and +queen together. Louis XVI., without any preliminary observations, +thus abruptly addressed him:</p> + +<p>“I hear you have purchased some diamonds of Böhmer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sire,” replied the cardinal.</p> + +<p>“Pray, what have you done with them?” inquired the king.</p> + +<p>“I thought they had been delivered to her majesty.”</p> + +<p>“Who commissioned you to make the purchase?”</p> + +<p>“A lady called the Countess de la Motte-Valois, who handed +me a letter from the queen, and I thought I was performing my +duty to her majesty when I undertook this negotiation.”</p> + +<p>“How, sir,” exclaimed the queen, “could you believe that I +should select you, to whom I have not spoken these eight years, +to negotiate anything for me, and especially through the mediation +of such a woman—a woman, too, whom I do not even know?”</p> + +<p>“I see plainly that I have been cruelly duped,” replied the +grand almoner, darting upon the queen as he said so a look of indignation +and disdain.⁠<a id="FNanchor_197" href="#Footnote_197" class="fnanchor">[197]</a> “I will pay for the Necklace: my desire +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>to be of service to your majesty blinded me. I suspected no trick +in the affair, and I am sorry for it.”</p> + +<p>The cardinal then took from his pocket-book a letter purporting +to be written by the queen to Madame de la Motte, and intrusting +her with the commission. This letter he handed to the king, who +after looking at it held it towards the cardinal, saying: “This is +neither written nor signed by the queen. How could a prince of +the house of Rohan, and a grand almoner of France, ever think +that the queen would sign herself <i>Marie-Antoinette de France</i>? +Everybody knows that queens sign their baptismal names only.”</p> + +<p>Louis XVI. then produced the copy of a letter sent by the +cardinal to Böhmer, and inquired whether he had ever written such +a letter. After glancing over it, the grand almoner replied that +he had no recollection of having done so; but when the king asked +him what he would say if the original letter, signed by himself, +were shown to him, the cardinal could not but confess that the +letter was genuine.</p> + +<p>“‘If this be the case,’ observed the king, ‘explain to me the +whole of this enigma. I do not wish to believe you guilty; I had +rather you would justify your conduct. Account, therefore, for +these manœuvres with Böhmer, these securities, and these notes.’</p> + +<p>“In reply to the king’s remarks, the grand almoner, who was +extremely confused, kept continually repeating: ‘I have been deceived, +sire. I will pay for the Necklace. I ask pardon of your +majesties.’ Then turning pale, and leaning against the table, he +said: ‘Sire, I am too much agitated to answer your majesty in a +way——’</p> + +<p>“‘Compose yourself,’ interposed the king, ‘and retire into the +adjoining closet. You will there find pens, ink, and paper; write +down what you have to say to me.’</p> + +<p>“The grand almoner retired as directed, and returned in about a +quarter of an hour with a written statement of a somewhat incoherent +character. After receiving it, Louis XVI. commanded him +to withdraw.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_198" href="#Footnote_198" class="fnanchor">[198]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span></p> + +<p>De Besenval says that at this moment the king warned the cardinal +he was about to be arrested. “Oh, sire!” exclaimed the +prince, “I shall always obey the orders of your majesty, but deign +to spare me the shame of being arrested in my pontifical habit +before the eyes of the entire court.” “It is necessary it should be +so,” replied the king. The cardinal wished to insist, but the king +abruptly quitted him.⁠<a id="FNanchor_199" href="#Footnote_199" class="fnanchor">[199]</a> On leaving the royal cabinet the grand +almoner encountered his deadly enemy, the Baron de Breteuil, who +had been lying in wait for him, and who at once called out to a +sub-lieutenant of his majesty’s body-guard, “In the king’s name, +follow me! Arrest the Cardinal de Rohan!” The officer proceeded +to take charge of his prisoner, who, precipitated as it were in a +moment from his high pinnacle of fortune, was conducted on foot +in his rich pontifical vestments, guarded on all sides, and pressed +upon by an amazed crowd of court idlers and hangers-on, to his +hôtel looking upon the north wing of the château. The distance +he had to go was not great, through the long looking-glass gallery—every +eye in the immense throng with which it was lined being +turned inquisitively upon him—through a few apartments and down +the marble staircase, and across the marble court and the broad +“Cour Royale,” with the noonday sun shedding its burning rays +upon his head, and gilding as it were his gorgeous vestments; past +the gaudy, gilded, and over-decorated chapel in which he, Grand +Almoner of France, was never more to officiate with a king and +queen and a brilliant court appearing to give ear to his ministrations; +thence through the iron gate leading into the Rue des Réservoirs, +where the Hôtel de Rohan—a singularly plain-looking +building, with rather a pretty garden approached from a balustraded +terrace in the rear, and easily identified at the present day +from the circumstance of its being the residence of the receiver-general +of the district—was situated.⁠<a id="FNanchor_200" href="#Footnote_200" class="fnanchor">[200]</a> So soon as the necessary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>preparations could be made, the cardinal, guarded like a common +criminal, was whisked off to Paris to the Hôtel de Strasbourg, +from whence he was speedily transferred to the Bastille.</p> + +<p>Ere, however, he quitted the palace of Versailles, “notwithstanding +the escort that surrounded him, and favoured by the attendant +crowd, the grand almoner stopped for a few moments, and +stooping down with his face towards the wall, as if to fasten his +buckle or his garter, snatched out his pencil and hastily wrote a few +words on a scrap of paper placed under his hand in his square red +cap. He rose again and proceeded. On entering his hôtel he contrived +to slip this paper unperceived into the hand of a confidential +‘heyduc’ who waited for him at the door of his apartment.” The +heyduc posts off to Paris, and arrives at the Palais-Cardinal early +in the afternoon. His horse falls dead in the stable, and he himself +swoons in the apartment of the Abbé Georgel after exclaiming +wildly, “All is lost; the prince is arrested.” The slip of paper +which drops from his hand is caught up and read with eagerness +by the abbé, and in accordance with the instructions contained in +it, the scarlet portfolio which held all the cardinal’s secret correspondence, +including the letters—gilt-edged or bordered with <i>vignettes +bleues</i>—penned by the phantom queen, and on which the +Prince de Rohan set such store, is forthwith committed to the +flames.⁠<a id="FNanchor_201" href="#Footnote_201" class="fnanchor">[201]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>While the foregoing events were transpiring the Count and +Countess de la Motte were receiving and returning visits in tranquil +security at Bar-sur-Aube. It was two days after the arrest of +the cardinal that the countess set out on her visit to the Duke de +Penthièvre at Château-Villain, and Beugnot was awaiting her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>arrival at Clairvaux in the evening. The abbot had pressed the +young lawyer to pass three days there if the ensuing fête of Saint-Bernard +would not frighten him, and had promised him as a reward +that he should hear the famous Abbé Maury from Paris preach the +saint’s panegyric. “I agreed,” says Beugnot, “with all my heart. +The day of Saint-Bernard was a grand affair at Clairvaux. The +poor who presented themselves at the door of the abbey received +charity, and the <i>bourgeoisie</i> of Bar-sur-Aube and its environs were +entertained at dinner in the refectory, at which the abbot presided. +I desired to be present at this banquet to laugh at the abbot, who +had spoken to me of this old custom as a piece of tomfoolery he +was about to suppress, and had mentioned with contempt the +guests who would be present at it.</p> + +<p>“The Abbot of Clairvaux was above the middle height, and of a +fine and graceful figure. When after his election he had the +honour of being presented to the king at Versailles, the queen, +struck with his handsome person and the dignity with which he +wore the costume of his order, could not refrain exclaiming, ‘What +a handsome monk!’ Dom Rocourt was polite with men and +gallant with women, and with all this, or in spite of it, very +stupid. I was never able,” says Beugnot, “to make him comprehend +when the Revolution arrived that the age had done with him, +his abbey, and his monks, who would have been only too happy to +abandon him.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_202" href="#Footnote_202" class="fnanchor">[202]</a> The Abbey of Clairvaux, founded in the year +1114, was one of the richest and most magnificent abbeys in +France. Its annual revenue was between three and four hundred +thousand francs. Situated in a picturesque glen, the conventual +buildings comprised the abbot’s residence, a handsome church, said +not to have been inferior to Nôtre Dame de Paris, and where +several early French kings and princes lay buried, with a treasury +for its ornaments and relics, an infirmary, a refectory and dormitories: +besides which there were a valuable library and beautiful +gardens.⁠<a id="FNanchor_203" href="#Footnote_203" class="fnanchor">[203]</a> Lastly, one must not forget its gigantic wine-vat, which +held upwards of 200,000 gallons. To-day the abbey is a house of +detention for criminals; the site of its magnificent church—demolished +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>during the first year of the Restoration—being now a +prison-yard. The abbot usually drove out with four horses to his +carriage, and had an outrider to precede him. He caused himself +to be addressed as “my lord” by his monks and dependents, and +by the many persons who had need of his assistance. He governed +despotically numerous convents of monks and nuns that were +dependent on his abbey, and it is said that he took especial pleasure +in visiting the nunneries subject to his sway.⁠<a id="FNanchor_204" href="#Footnote_204" class="fnanchor">[204]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>We left Beugnot at Clairvaux waiting Madame de la Motte’s +return. Soon after eight o’clock she made her appearance, when +he at once acquainted her with the engagement he had entered +into. She wished to share it and remain for the fête of Saint-Bernard, +but the abbot excused himself, explaining to her that the +fête was altogether a religious one, and that the ladies who +commonly inhabited Clairvaux fled from it on that day, abandoning +it to the religious of Saint-Bernard and to their children. +They returned, however, on the following day, and the abbot, who +was lost in reverence and adoration of Madame de la Motte, pressed +her to augment their number. He was no doubt aware of the +intimate connection which existed between the countess and the +Cardinal de Rohan, and he treated her accordingly like a princess +of the church.</p> + +<p>A large company was assembled at the abbey on this particular +evening in anticipation of meeting the Abbé Maury, whose arrival +from Paris was now momentarily expected. The clock having +struck nine without the looked-for guest making his appearance, +the company sat down to the supper-table. Scarcely had they +taken their seats, however, before the sound of carriage-wheels +announced some new arrival. This proved to be the Abbé Maury, +with “his Jesuitic eyes, his impassive brazen face, image of all +the cardinal sins,” who, after being welcomed by his brother +ecclesiastic, and introduced to the guests in the supper-room, +without being allowed time to change his travelling-dress, took his +seat at table, when, as a matter of course, he was at once assailed +by the inquiry as to whether there was anything stirring in Paris—in +fact, any news.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span></p> + +<p>“‘What mean you?—any news?’ replied the Abbé Maury; +‘why, where do you all come from? There is a piece of news +which none can understand, which has astonished and bewildered +all Paris. The Cardinal de Rohan, Grand Almoner of France, was +arrested last Tuesday, the festival of the Assumption, in his +pontifical vestments, as he was leaving the king’s cabinet. They +talk of a Diamond Necklace which he was to have bought for the +queen, but which he did not buy at all. Is it not inconceivable +that for such a bauble as this a grand almoner of France should +have been arrested in his pontifical vestments—do you understand, +in his pontifical vestments?—and on leaving the king’s cabinet?’</p> + +<p>“As soon as this intelligence reached my ear,” says Count +Beugnot, whose narrative we are quoting, “I glanced at Madame +de la Motte, whose napkin had fallen from her hand, and whose +pale and rigid face seemed as it were immovably fixed above her +plate. After the first shock was over she made an effort and +rushed out of the room, followed by one of the chief attendants. +In the course of a few minutes I left the table and joined her. +The horses were already put to her carriage, so we at once set forth.”</p> + +<p>“‘I have perhaps done wrong in leaving so suddenly, above all +in the presence of the Abbé Maury,’ remarked Madame de la Motte. +‘Not at all,’ replied I; ‘your relations with the cardinal are +known, and almost avowed. He may have to forfeit his life perhaps; +your plan is to run away in advance of couriers, letters, or +news. You would have done wrong in losing time by supping at +Clairvaux—but can you explain this arrest to yourself?’ ‘No,—at +least only through some trick of Cagliostro’s: the cardinal is infatuated +with him: it is not my fault, I have warned him a +hundred times.’ ‘So much the better,’ remarked I; ‘but what is +this story about a Necklace which the cardinal has been buying for +the queen? How is it that a cardinal is charged with such a +purchase? and how comes it about that the queen should choose +for such a commission Prince Louis, whom she openly detests?’ +‘I repeat to you, it is all Cagliostro.’ ‘But you have received this +charlatan at your house. Are you not compromised in any way +with him?’ ‘Absolutely not in the least, and I am perfectly +tranquil; I did very wrong to leave the supper-table.’ ‘It was +not wrong. If you are tranquil on your own account, you ought +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>not to be so on account of an unfortunate friend.’ ‘Ah! bah! you +do not know him; only see him in a difficulty; he is capable of +abusing a hundred persons, of saying a hundred foolish things to +get himself out of it.’ ‘Madame de la Motte,’ replied I, ‘you have +just said more than I wished to hear; I have a last service to propose +to you; it is now ten o’clock at night, we are approaching +Bayet. I am going to leave you there in care of a friend for +whom you know I can answer. I will return with your carriage +to Bar-sur-Aube, and will warn M. de la Motte, who in an hour’s +time can come and fetch you in a post-chaise drawn by your best +pair of horses. He will take charge of your most valuable effects, +and you will together take, this very night, the road to Châlons, +since that to Troyes would not be safe for you. Do not go to +Boulogne, Calais, or Dieppe, at which places instructions perhaps +have been already given to stop you; between these ports there +are twenty places where for ten louis they will land you in England.’ +‘Sir,’ replied Madame de la Motte, ‘you are wearying me; +I have allowed you to go on to the end because I was thinking of +something else. Is it necessary to repeat to you ten times running +that I have nothing to do with this affair? I repeat it, I am very +sorry at having left the table, as though I were an accomplice in +your cardinal’s fooleries.’ ‘Madame,’ observed I, ‘let us say no +more on the subject. Still I should like to add once more—after +your avowal—that you will repent not having followed my advice. +May Heaven grant in this case that your repentance may not be +more poignant than usual.’</p> + +<p>“We drove along in silence for half a hour. As we entered the +town I entreated her to at least burn any papers which might compromise +her or the cardinal. ‘It is,’ said I, ‘a measure dictated by +honour on the one side and by prudence on the other.’ She consented; +I offered to assist her, and as she did not refuse, on leaving +the carriage I accompanied her to her room. Her husband, +who had left home early in the morning to join a hunting party, had +not yet returned. We opened a large chest of sandal-wood filled +with papers of all colours and dimensions. Being nervously +anxious to make quick work of the matter, I inquired if there were +amongst them any bills of exchange, bonds, bank-notes, or drafts, +and on receiving an answer in the negative I proposed to throw the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>entire heap into the fire. She insisted on at least a cursory +examination being made of them. We proceeded with it, very +slowly on her part, very precipitately on mine. It was whilst +casting furtive glances upon some of the hundreds of letters from +the Cardinal de Rohan, that I saw with pity the ravages which the +delirium of love, aided by that of ambition, had wrought in the +mind of this unhappy man. It is fortunate for the cardinal’s +memory that these letters were destroyed, but it is a loss for the +history of human passions. What must have been the state of +society when a prince of the church did not hesitate to write, to +sign, and to address to a woman letters which in our days a man +who respects himself the least in the world might commence reading, +but would certainly never finish?</p> + +<p>“Among these motley papers there were invoices, offers of estates +for sale, prospectuses and advertisements of new inventions, &c. +Some of the letters were from Böhmer and Bassenge, and made +mention of the Necklace, spoke of terms expired, acknowledged the +receipt of certain sums, and asked for larger ones. I consulted +Madame de la Motte as to what should be done with them. Finding +her hesitate, I took the shortest course, and threw them all +into the fire. The affair occupied a considerable time. When it +was over I took my leave of Madame de la Motte, urging her more +strongly than ever to depart. She only answered me by promising +to go to bed immediately. I then quitted her apartments, the +atmosphere of which was poisoned by the odour arising from burning +paper and wax impregnated with twenty different perfumes. +It was three o’clock in the morning; at four o’clock she was +arrested, and at half-past four was on her way to the Bastille. +The examination which I had made of her papers, although a superficial +one, had settled my doubts. I had observed so much extravagance +in the letters of the cardinal, that I believed both he +and the countess lost, and the one through the other.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_205" href="#Footnote_205" class="fnanchor">[205]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess was sound asleep when the officers of justice +arrived. An inspector of police drew aside the bed curtains, and +arousing her, showed her the <i>lettre-de-cachet</i> for her arrest.⁠<a id="FNanchor_206" href="#Footnote_206" class="fnanchor">[206]</a> From +this moment until her departure from Bar-sur-Aube the countess +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>was closely guarded by <i>exempts</i> and cavalry of the marshalsea, +while other <i>exempts</i> compelled her husband, who had returned home +in the meantime, to accompany them while they made a strict search +throughout the house.⁠<a id="FNanchor_207" href="#Footnote_207" class="fnanchor">[207]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“M. de la Motte,” observes Beugnot, “was very little affected at +the arrest of his wife. He had been hunting the day before, and +contemplated devoting several more days to this amusement. He +called on me at six o’clock in the morning, and told me in a quiet, +confidential sort of way, of the countess’s arrest. He assumed a +calmness in my presence that surprised me. ‘Madame,’ said he, +‘will only be away for three or four days at the utmost. She is +going to give the minister some explanations which he requires of +her. I reckon that she will return on Wednesday or Thursday, +when we will go and meet her, and bring her home in triumph.’ +‘Sir,’ I replied to him, ‘you are I dare say unaware that last night +I advised your wife to start at once for England, and by the quickest +route. Had she followed my counsel, she would not be as she now +is, on the high road to Bastille. I now advise you to follow the +course I suggested to her, which will be much safer for you than +losing precious time and deceiving yourself by vain illusions.’ The +count shrugged his shoulders and left me, humming a tune. On +the same day he took his place in the diligence, and gained England +without delay. It was on the 18th of August that he left. +Four days afterwards the police came to arrest him,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_208" href="#Footnote_208" class="fnanchor">[208]</a> but found +their bird had flown.</p> + +<p>Neither the forger Villette nor the counterfeit queen D’Oliva +were objects of suspicion even until several weeks had elapsed; +but eight days after the arrest of the cardinal, the Count de Cagliostro +and his wife were arrested and sent to join the grand almoner +and the Countess de la Motte in the Bastille. In a +memorial prepared by Cagliostro, wherein he puts forward a claim +for damages on account of the losses sustained by him in consequence +of this arrest, he says: “On August 23, 1785, the Commissary +Chénon came to my house, attended by a bailiff and eight +police-officers. He told me that he had orders to escort me to the +lieutenant of police. He asked me for my keys, and obliged me to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>open my escritoire, which contained various medicines, amongst +others six bottles of precious balsam. The bailiff in my presence +seized upon the articles he chose to take, and particularly four +bottles of the balsam. The <i>sbirri</i> that accompanied him followed +their chief’s example, and the pillage began.”</p> + +<p>The count then proceeds to estimate the amount of this pillage +item by item, and ends by bringing it up to the considerable sum +of 100,000 livres (£4000 sterling). Amongst these items he cites +a green pocket-book containing forty-seven bank notes of 1000 livres +each, besides which he asserts there were gold and silver coin—double-louis, +sequins, and Spanish quadruples—plate, jewels, diamonds, +&c., taken away.⁠<a id="FNanchor_209" href="#Footnote_209" class="fnanchor">[209]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The cardinal’s equerry and particular confidant, the Baron de +Planta—a man of shady character, who had held a commission in +a Swiss regiment in France, had been broke for some misconduct, +and had been for years under a cloud at the time he was picked +up by the Prince de Rohan during his Vienna embassy—was likewise +arrested, but had the luck to get released after undergoing a +brief examination.⁠<a id="FNanchor_210" href="#Footnote_210" class="fnanchor">[210]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIV">XXIV.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785. Aug. 19–Sept. 13.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">A DREARY DAY AND NIGHT’S DRIVE.—THE BASTILLE.—A “VALOIS” +SERVED OFF PEWTER.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>As we have already mentioned, the Cardinal de Rohan immediately +after his arrest was conducted, closely guarded, to his hotel at +Versailles. In the afternoon of the same day he was removed to +Paris, to the Palais-Cardinal, where he remained during the night; +the officer commanding the escort of royal body-guards, having +been solemnly cautioned to that effect, slept in the same apartment +as his prisoner, whom he never trusted out of his sight for a single +instant.</p> + +<p>The day following the Marquis de Launay, governor of the +Bastille, came to receive the grand almoner into his custody, and +to transfer him to the iron grip of that mysterious state prison +which rarely rendered up its victims until they were snatched away +by the icy hand of Death. The cardinal wished to go thither on +foot under cover of the night, so as to be free from observation. +This favour was granted him, and, what is far more remarkable, +he was allowed to take with him a couple of <i>valets de chambre</i> and +a secretary, and was informed that he would be permitted to see +his friends at stated times in the hall of this gloomy fortress.⁠<a id="FNanchor_211" href="#Footnote_211" class="fnanchor">[211]</a> At +a later period of his confinement, he was allowed to drive of an +evening along the Boulevards in the Governor’s carriage, strictly +guarded of course, and to give grand dinners in his rooms.⁠<a id="FNanchor_212" href="#Footnote_212" class="fnanchor">[212]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The Countess de la Motte was arrested, it will be remembered, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>at four o’clock on the morning of the 18th of August, and was at +once hurried off to Paris, distant about one hundred and forty miles +from Bar-sur-Aube, “entirely ignorant,” she remarks, “whither I +was intended to be conveyed, and so little anticipating the event +that I was dozing in the carriage. In the course of our journey the +vehicle was stopped, and questions asked by some person without, +to whom the person within said: ‘Don’t you know this carriage?’ +‘Oh, yes,’ replied the other. ‘Don’t stop us then; we have nothing +but a state prisoner;’ upon which the vehicle proceeded. Hearing +this conversation I awoke; the termination of it roused all my +faculties. ‘What do you say?’ exclaimed I in a tone of extreme +agitation. ‘A state prisoner! alas! then am I a state prisoner?’ +‘Oh, no, madame, no such thing;’ and these people swore that I +was not one. But there is some excuse for them; they belonged +to the police, and perjury and bearing false witness is no small part +of their employment. Yet they used such kind expressions that, +knowing my innocence, I flattered myself I was not deceived. One +of them said to me: ‘Madame, it is so very early, I’m afraid we +shall not be able to get an interview with the Baron de Breteuil, +who has given me orders if we arrived too early to conduct you to +my house, and to wait upon him about eleven; therefore be composed +and try to sleep a little.’ All this time I remained upon my +seat; but soon after, they desired me to conceal myself in the +bottom of the vehicle; this was when we arrived at the Porte St.-Antoine, +where they endeavoured as much as possible to place themselves +in such positions before me that I might neither be seen by +any one nor observe the turning of the Bastille. Finding myself +rather warm, ‘Let me see,’ said I; and looking out I discovered +the Bastille. ‘How!’ exclaimed I, with agitated surprise; ‘is it to +the Bastille then that I am going? Oh! you are all impostors!’ +They endeavoured to pacify me, and begged me not to make a disturbance; +told me that they were not their own masters; that they +had received their orders, but that they were absolutely ignorant of +the motive for which I was taken to the Bastille, and that they were +persuaded in a very few days I should be liberated.</p> + +<p>“By this time we arrived at the first bridge leading to the +governor’s house. The postillion knocked, and many <i>invalides</i> came +out. The post-chaise belonging to the police drove up to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>governor’s door, who came out himself in a <i>robe de chambre</i> to the +carriage to give me his hand, begging me at the same time to excuse +his <i>déshabille</i>. He then conducted me into a large hall. Soon +afterwards, the king’s lieutenant arrived with a large book, wherein +he entered the date of my arrival, and afterwards presented it to me +to sign my name, which request I complied with. During this +ceremony, which only occupied a few minutes, the governor was in +the court with the <i>exempts</i>, who were giving him an account of +every circumstance which occurred in the execution of their orders. +This over, the governor returned, and asked me if I would take any +refreshment, adding: ‘We shall take great care of you, madame.’ +I then asked him into which apartment I should go to receive the +Baron de Breteuil, remarking at the same time that I hoped he +would come at eleven, as the <i>exempts</i> had informed me. ‘Oh, there +is not the least doubt of it, madame,’ replied the governor. He +then called Saint-Jean, the turnkey, to whom he gave my papers, +to place them, as I have since heard, in the archives; after which +the governor desired the king’s lieutenant to conduct me to my +apartment. Some little conversation passed relative to the place +of my destination, of which the lieutenant seemed uncertain. +‘Oh,’ said the governor, ‘<i>La Comtée</i> is the best; it is very light.’ +He then put me in charge of the king’s lieutenant, whose arm I +took, persuaded that I should be shown into some other apartment, +and for a far different purpose. As I went along I saw some soldiers +(<i>invalides</i>) enveloped in blue cloaks, with large hoods over their +heads, and long bands hanging down. As I passed them I was not +a little surprised to see them turn their backs towards me, it being +the rule when any prisoner arrives for them to turn themselves +round lest they should take too much notice. I began to laugh +with the lieutenant at the novelty of this, and particularly at these +grotesque figures in their masquerade....</p> + +<p>“We passed on till we arrived at the court, the staircase of +which led to the tower of <i>La Comtée</i>. After ascending this we +arrived at the apartment destined for my reception, all the gates of +which were very large, and moreover open. St. Jean, who was to +be my turnkey, attended me thither.</p> + +<p>“Struck with such a dismal change of situation, so very different +from what I had ever been accustomed to, I could not help expressing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>my dissatisfaction to the lieutenant. ‘If this is the place,’ said +I, ‘which the governor pleases to call my apartment, be sure I am +greatly obliged to him.’ I then went to look at the bed, which was +indeed a wretched one; told him that it would be impossible for +me to sleep in so miserable a bed as that, and demanded if he could +not accommodate me with one as good as the cardinal’s? He replied, +very politely, that he really did not comprehend my meaning....</p> + +<p>“My disapprobation of the bed, however, was attended with +favourable results, for the turnkey substituted for the one which I +had great reason to complain of an excellent feather bed with fine +sheets and curtains. Thus accommodated, and extremely fatigued, +I attempted to get some rest; but I was scarce in bed when the +lieutenant, with my own and another turnkey, arrived. The two +turnkeys examined my clothes and my pockets, out of which they +took all the contents, consisting of several little articles, particularly +a gold <i>étui</i> set with pearls, another of tortoiseshell, a small +ivory box ornamented with gold, having on its lid a miniature +with a gold rim, containing a small mirror and some rouge, an +English pocket-knife, a knife with a tortoiseshell handle and gold +blade, my purse, containing eighteen louis and about nineteen +livres, and a gold repeating watch with a diamond chain.</p> + +<p>“Indignant at such humiliating treatment, which I could not +patiently endure, I remonstrated with some asperity, and threatened +to inform the Baron de Breteuil, whom I was simple enough +to believe I should see. They were, however, regardless of my +threats, and having executed their orders, departed through those +dreadful doors which with their horrid bolts were closed upon me, +and the sound pierced my very soul....</p> + +<p>“About eight o’clock the turnkey came to my door. I spoke +to him, but he paid no attention to me, and departed without +saying a word. I rose to examine my dismal habitation, and +traversed the room in every direction backwards and forwards. I +opened the window to see if I could discover anybody, or make +myself sufficiently conspicuous for any one to see me. I climbed +upon the sill, and held my face close to the bars, but I could discover +nothing; as for people, it was impossible to distinguish +them.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_213" href="#Footnote_213" class="fnanchor">[213]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span></p> + +<p>At noon the lieutenant of the Bastille came to fetch the countess +to an interview, as she asserts she thought, with the Baron de +Breteuil, instead of which she was conducted into the presence of +the lieutenant of police and the Commissary Chénon, who commenced +examining her respecting the Diamond Necklace, and +ended by accusing her of having first obtained possession of, and +afterwards absconding to a foreign country with the missing +jewel. Madame de la Motte, perfectly unabashed, says that she +laughed outright in the commissary’s face at what she styles the +“ridiculous absurdity” of such an accusation. Her examination +was continued day by day, and when completed, the commissary, +as the countess artfully states, “gabbled over something which she +scarce understood,” but which she nevertheless signed. “It was +this cunning dissembler,” she remarks, “who made me sign those +odious things which I was supposed to have said myself, and +which were so detestable that when they were read by his majesty +he spat upon them, saying, ‘Fie upon the filthy creature!’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_214" href="#Footnote_214" class="fnanchor">[214]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess, who in early life was glad to feed upon broken +victuals passed through a trap-hole in the miserable hovel that +sheltered the Saint-Remi family at Fontette, appears not to have +entirely approved of the <i>cuisine</i> of the Bastille. What more particularly +annoyed her, however, was that she, who had been latterly +accustomed to gold and silver plate, should now be expected to +dine off vulgar pewter. According to her own account, she preferred +enduring the pangs of hunger to submitting to such an +indignity, and sent the dishes away untouched. The turnkey, she +tells us, somewhat surprised at this proceeding, “said in a rude +manner, ‘So then you don’t choose to eat, don’t you?’ ‘No,’ +replied I, ‘I don’t choose to eat, and I desire to know if you serve +the cardinal off pewter? Inform the governor that the Valois are +quite as nice as and entitled to equal respect with the Rohans.’ +The turnkey was astounded. He looked at me respectfully, and +mildly answered that he was ignorant who I was; then begging +my pardon he departed, and returned shortly afterwards with a +better dinner served in beautiful dishes with silver covers.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_215" href="#Footnote_215" class="fnanchor">[215]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Poor Madame de la Tour, Count de la Motte’s sister, having +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>applied to the Marquis de Launay for permission to visit the countess +in the Bastille, was arrested by two <i>exempts</i> on leaving the +governor’s house, and forthwith conducted to a cell in the gloomy +old fortress, where she was kept confined for a period of six months, +in spite of the efforts of her husband and family to procure her +release. This was paying rather a heavy penalty for her feelings +of sympathy towards an incriminated sister-in-law.</p> + +<p>Before the countess had been immured in the Bastille a fortnight, +we find her attempting a rambling exculpation of herself in +a document which bears no address, but was no doubt intended +to produce an impression on the Baron de Breteuil, and which she +describes as “Explanatory reflections on the accusations made by +Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohan.”</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>“Does Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohan believe me ass +enough not to have disappeared immediately if I had desired to +retain the Necklace under some pretext, as he accuses me of +doing?</p> + +<p>“Does Monseigneur le Cardinal believe that I caused the Necklace +to be sold here under the eyes both of the vendor and of +himself, and that I should have been able, had I been guilty, to +have so far deluded them as to remain at Paris so tranquilly as I +did, knowing all the while the date of payment? Should I not +rather have taken a safe departure before the moment of payment +arrived? Monseigneur le Cardinal de Rohan was at Saverne for +six weeks. Could not I have profited by his absence to join my +husband in England, with my whole household and have remained +there?</p> + +<p>“Instead of which my husband was there by his orders, and returned +as agreed upon with Monseigneur le Cardinal. Would it +have been possible, with me living almost at his door, for him not +to have given me something during four years, or at least to have +taken care of me and mine, since all I had was my pension of 800 +livres? The expenses of my house were always heavy enough to +make it requisite for the cardinal to give me large sums to keep it +up; and at this time I solicited more than ever both at Versailles +and at Paris. Every day I required <i>voitures de remise</i>, which were +very dear; I had, too, a house at Versailles to reside in when +there. How, moreover, let me ask, should I have done the bidding +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>of a sovereign without anticipating great returns from it, since +sooner or later this intimacy would certainly have been discovered? +How could I have exercised so little precaution, I say, as to remain +in Paris, where, if guilty, I should have taken the utmost care on +the contrary to appear more at my ease than under ordinary circumstances, +fearful of being suspected by Monseigneur le Cardinal, +whose people, and especially M. le Baron de Planta (whom he also +brought as a witness against me), came continually to my house?</p> + +<p>“Will Monseigneur le Cardinal dare to deny all the facts which I +have advanced in my examination, and which will at least convince +him that I have been forced to this, and that it has only been in +self-defence? But he accuses me wrongfully. I must tell the +truth to prove my innocence, and to prove that he was not in a +position to use me as a servant, as Monseigneur le Cardinal pretends, +in an affair of such importance, since it concerned the +person of the queen. Moreover I do not know any one who is +attached to her.</p> + +<p class="center">“I have the honour to be, with submission,</p> + +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Comtesse de Valois de la Motte de la Pénicière</span>.</p> + +<p>“At the Bastille this Monday, 29th August, 1785.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_216" href="#Footnote_216" class="fnanchor">[216]</a>⁠</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Another letter is extant, bearing date Sept. 13, 1785, evidently +written by the countess during her confinement in the Bastille, though +it has no signature to it, and which, couched in terms of extreme +familiarity, is addressed to the Duke de Guines, a very grand +gentleman of the court, and, what is more, one of the queen’s most +intimate friends. In this letter, in the midst of the most absurd +and nonsensical details, the countess introduces the names of her +sister and of Cagliostro and his wife, on the two last of whom she +seeks to turn the accusation directed against herself.⁠<a id="FNanchor_217" href="#Footnote_217" class="fnanchor">[217]</a> The duke, +who pretended not to understand the drift of the letter, sent it to +the Baron de Breteuil.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXV">XXV.<br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">EFFECT PRODUCED ON THE PUBLIC MIND BY THESE ARRESTS.—THE +ENEMIES OF THE QUEEN.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>It is impossible to conceive the sensation produced throughout +France, and indeed throughout Europe generally, by these arrests +and the extravagant rumours to which they gave rise. Marie-Antoinette +in various ways had unfortunately made numerous +enemies—through her persistent efforts, for instance, to get the +Duke de Choiseul appointed prime minister; through her too decided +partiality for particular favourites, for whom she secured +both places and pensions; and through what was affectedly styled +her want of prudence—in other words, her open disregard of the +rigid formalities of French court etiquette. Arrayed against her +were many of the oldest families in France, each of whom +cherished some particular grievance of its own. The consequence +was, there were many hostile interests at work intent upon +destroying her reputation and bringing about her ruin if need be, +even at the expense of the monarchy itself, so that the great fraud +of the Diamond Necklace was altogether regarded in the light of +a political event, and no time was lost by the different inimical +factions in twisting it to serve their own purposes, without the +slightest regard being paid by any one of them to the real character +of the act itself.</p> + +<p>We will here interrupt the course of our narrative to examine at +some length into the origin of this widespread animosity against +the queen, and to trace the causes of its rapid extensions through +all classes of French society. To do this it will be necessary for +us to go back to the very outset of her career.</p> + +<p>When Marie-Antoinette, then a young girl of fifteen, first set +foot on French soil, nothing could exceed the enthusiasm with +which she was welcomed. Her progress from Strasbourg to Versailles +was one long ovation. At Versailles, save the dauphin’s old +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>maiden aunts, who made themselves sufficiently disagreeable, and +the king’s mistress, Madame Dubarry, who could not tolerate this +fair and pure young spirit, every one was more or less charmed +with her. The old king, worn out by excesses, and weary of the +deceptive flattery which he daily had to listen to, was captivated, +not merely by her personal graces, but by her frank and lively +nature, her open unaffected ways. The women may have secretly +envied her, but the men could not help adoring her. She far excelled +the young female members of the royal family in beauty. +At the time of her marriage her form was not fully developed: her +stature was short, and her figure altogether small, though perfectly +proportioned; her arm was finely rounded and of a dazzling whiteness, +her hand plump, her fingers tapering, her nails transparent +and rose-coloured, her foot charming. When she grew taller and +stouter the foot and hand remained perfect, her figure only became +a little inelegant, and her chest a trifle too broad. Her face +formed a rather long oval; her complexion, which was really dazzling, +displayed the most tender shades of colour, from pearly white +to delicate rose tint; her eyes were blue, soft, and animated, and +shaded by long, full lashes; her nose was aquiline, and slightly +tapered at the end; her mouth was small and delicate and well +arched, her lower lip prominent, after the Austrian type; her neck +was slender and a trifle long, but well set; her forehead was convex, +and furnished with too little of her beautiful chestnut-colour +hair. The <i>coiffure</i> of the empire would have accomplished marvels +for her, for the hair turned down over her forehead would have +given to her face a regular beauty.⁠<a id="FNanchor_218" href="#Footnote_218" class="fnanchor">[218]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Though the young dauphiness was addicted to reverie, and displayed +a fondness for retirement in the society of a few chosen +friends, she was far from being of a reserved disposition; indeed, +she was a good deal given to gaiety of that light, playful, almost +pert character which imparts movement and life to all around. +She forced every one to laugh with her. She cared nothing for +the restraints imposed by the barriers of etiquette. If it did not +please her to walk in stately fashion, she would run and skip +about, regardless of her train or her ladies of honour. In winter-time +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>she would scamper over the slippery ground, dragging after +her the youngest lady of her court, whose duty it was to hold up +her train, and delighted while glancing behind at the score of +racing trains which etiquette required should follow in procession. +In the old king’s days she was known to have even laughed out +loud in the royal box at Preville’s funny face, to the great scandal +of those who only deigned to smile.⁠<a id="FNanchor_219" href="#Footnote_219" class="fnanchor">[219]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>At the very first court she held after she became queen, provoked +by some pleasantries on the part of one of her ladies, and the +ridiculous figures cut by certain ancient court dames who had come +to pay their respects to her, she could not refrain from laughing at +them behind her fan. This naturally enough gave great offence +to these antiquated dowagers, who vowed the queen had mocked +at them, that she had not a proper respect for age, and was utterly +wanting in propriety. The name of “<i>moqueuse</i>” was given to her +in consequence.⁠<a id="FNanchor_220" href="#Footnote_220" class="fnanchor">[220]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The young queen, with the full sanction of her husband, went +early one morning to see the sun rise from the highest point of +Marly gardens—a harmless enough proceeding, one would think, +but which nevertheless gave rise to most disgraceful calumnies. +On another occasion she displayed her skill as a charioteer, by +driving about Marly in a cabriolet, preceded merely by a single +officer of the king’s body-guard. This spectacle astonished the +old courtiers, who had never seen a queen handle the reins before, +and who therefore pronounced the proceeding highly unbecoming, +if not, indeed, improper. At Marly, too, Marie-Antoinette +established a kind of <i>café</i>, to which the lords and ladies of the +court betook themselves in their morning gowns. All etiquette +was set aside, and people enjoyed here the same kind of liberty +which was ordinarily to be met with in establishments of this class. +Every one had his own little table, at which he was served with +whatever he asked for.⁠<a id="FNanchor_221" href="#Footnote_221" class="fnanchor">[221]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Marie-Antoinette, who was fond of dancing, organized a series of +fancy dress balls in the <i>Salle de Comédie</i> at Versailles, into the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>spirit of which her brothers-in-law and their young wives entered +most heartily. Being herself a good dancer, she was glad to secure +good dancers for these entertainments, but had to undergo no end +of reproaches because she, a young queen of twenty years of age, +had appealed to the minister of war to grant leave of absence to +certain officers, favourites at these fêtes, who had been ordered to +rejoin their regiments. Everything she did was wrong. She was +blamed for being present at the summer promenades on the terrace +of the château of Versailles, then open to the general public, when, +attired in a plain white cambric dress and a simple straw hat, she +and Madame Elisabeth, and perhaps her married sisters-in-law, +would mix unobserved among the crowd, or seated on a bench, +would listen to the music performed by the king’s guards; watching +and commenting meanwhile on the secret flirtations which +under cover of the night were carried on on these occasions.</p> + +<p>The foregoing incidents seem to have been harmless enough, but +the same can hardly be said of her excursions to the <i>bals de l’opéra</i>, +when “lost in their vortex, she was happy or trembling under her +mask,” and whither she would resort attended merely by a single +lady of the court and with her servants in undress grey liveries. +On one of these occasions her carriage broke down, and she was +obliged to have recourse to a public vehicle. On entering the +theatre she is reported to have exclaimed to her friends, “It is I, +come in a <i>fiacre</i>! Isn’t it droll?” One can well conceive an incident +like this giving rise to much unpleasant scandal, and can +sympathise in the reproaches which her brother the Emperor +Joseph addressed to her on her frequent presence at these entertainments.</p> + +<p>It was the misfortune of Marie-Antoinette to have made for herself +a host of enemies almost from the very first day she was called +upon to share a throne. Among others, of her brother-in-law, the +Count de Provence, who, attached to her at the outset of her career, +took to quizzing her, and criticising her conduct, and even to +caricaturing her, while preserving an outward appearance of friendship +towards her, soon after she became a queen. The Prince de +Condé, allied to the Cardinal de Rohan by marriage, was embittered +against her because she very properly declined to receive his mistress, +Madame de Monaco, at court. A warm friendship had sprung +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>up between Marie-Antoinette and the young Duke de Chartres, +afterwards Orléans <i>Égalité</i>, on her first arrival in France; but after +a time, Louis XVI., who disliked the duke, and made a point of +insulting his friends whenever he got the chance, availed himself +of the duke’s known immorality to forbid the queen associating +with him on the same familiar terms as heretofore. The consequence +was, the duke, who was unaware of the real cause of his +disgrace, conceived a strong dislike for the queen, who on her part +retaliated by saying many spiteful things respecting him. Dislike +grew into hatred, and hatred grew bitter and more bitter, until at +last the duke pursued Marie-Antoinette with a relentless vengeance +that was positively diabolic, and which only terminated with her +life. Dissolute, gouty old De Maurepas, prime minister, and all +his kin, and more particularly his nephew, the Duke d’Aiguillon, a +former creature of the Dubarry’s, and now a creature of the Duke +d’Orléans, and whose disgrace at court had been brought about by +the queen’s influence, were arrayed against her on account of the +persistent exertions she made to get her favourite, De Choiseul—whom +Catherine of Russia used to style the coachman of Europe, +as when in power he directed all the cabinets—appointed prime +minister in De Maurepas’ stead. M. de Vergennes too, whose +handsome Greek wife the queen would not consent to receive, +cherished a steady hatred of her—all the more dangerous because +it was concealed—and even wrote regular reports respecting her to +Louis XVI, which the king kept secret, and which only came to +light on the discovery of the famous “<i>armoire de fer</i>” in the wall +of the royal closet in the Tuileries, a few months before the king’s +death.</p> + +<p>At the head of the enemies the queen had succeeded in making +among her own sex were, Mesdames Adelaide and Louise, two of +the king’s aunts, the former of whom had for a while exercised a +control over her nephew, and was now jealous and irritated beyond +measure at the influence which the young queen had acquired over +her husband. Since their exile to Lorraine, however, these old +ladies had been comparatively powerless for mischief. The partiality +which Marie-Antoinette displayed for the society of the Countess +Jules de Polignac, had had the effect of estranging her sisters-in-law +from her. Count d’Artois, wishing to bring about a reconciliation, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>said one day to the queen, on kissing her hand, “My little +sister, for a very long time you have slighted your sisters-in-law, +who are much attached to you, and who feel much afflicted at your +behaviour. I beg you to bestow on them your warmest friendship, +for they are worthy of it.” The queen replied somewhat petulantly, +“These ladies do not render me the deference which is my +due; they ought to remember that I am queen, and, moreover, that +I belong to the House of Austria, which takes precedence of all.” +The Count d’Artois could not help smiling, and, pressing the +queen’s hand, said, “My little sister, since you jest about the affair, +I am enchanted, as it proves to me that, whatever rancour may +exist at present, will not last long.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_222" href="#Footnote_222" class="fnanchor">[222]</a> The count, however, did not +prove himself a true prophet, for the ladies never became completely +reconciled, and showed merely a distant regard for each +other. Perhaps the most dangerous enemy the queen had was the +stiff old Countess de Marsan—herself a Rohan, and cousin of the +cardinal, for whom in past years she had secured the post of grand +almoner—who during the late reign had been governess to the +king’s grandchildren, and who had been from the very first greatly +scandalized at Marie-Antoinette’s freedom of manners: the dauphiness’s +most innocent acts being magnified by this old prude into +crimes. If she glanced at any one, it was set down to coquetry; +if she chanced to laugh, it was either unbecoming, or else her +gaiety was all forced; if she wore her hair loose, she was compared +to a bacchante; and even her simple white muslin dresses were +pronounced to be stage costumes, worn solely to create an effect. +The Duchess de Noailles, who had been Marie-Antoinette’s chief +lady of honour from the moment of her arrival in France, and +Madame de Cossé, her lady of the bedchamber, threw up their +posts on the Princess de Lamballe being appointed mistress of the +queen’s household, and both enlisted themselves among the malcontents, +which comprised, in addition to those we have already +mentioned, the powerful families of Conti, Montmorency, Clermont-Tonnerre, +La Rochefoucauld, and Crillon.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVI">XXVI.<br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">LITTLE TRIANON, AND THE QUEEN’S SOCIETY THERE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The enemies of the queen at the moment the Necklace scandal +burst upon the public were many and formidable; the real friends +that she had capable of defending her were but few. The Baron +de Breteuil was well enough disposed towards her, still it was not +so much the shielding of the queen’s reputation as compassing the +downfall of his enemy, the Cardinal de Rohan, that he had at +heart. The Abbé de Vermond, who had been Marie-Antoinette’s +instructor, and was now a sort of secretary to her, had only his +fidelity to recommend him. He could influence the queen, but +wanted the head to direct her wisely. Specious M. de Calonne +was too busy raising new loans to supply a continually emptying +royal exchequer to trouble himself about necklaces or cardinals; +besides, no particular friendship existed now between the queen +and him. He no longer gallantly told her that if what she required +was simply difficult it was already done, and that if it was +impossible, it should be done. The Duke de Choiseul had been +dead these several months past. Those intimate friends of Marie-Antoinette’s +with whom her daily life was chiefly spent, and who +formed what was styled her society, shared her unpopularity to +some extent, for it was the favours heaped upon certain members +of the Trianon set which had estranged so many of the old nobility +from her. Moreover, with the exception of the Count d’Artois +and the Duke de Coigny, there was not a man of influence among +them who could do her real service in the hour of need.</p> + +<p>The <i>habitués</i> of the Little Trianon—“the queen’s society,” as +they were styled—comprised, first, her youngest brother-in-law, +the Count d’Artois, who danced with her, hunted with her, acted +with her, and entered generally into the spirit of her amusements; +then there was his wife, the countess, exceedingly short of stature, +with a complexion as fresh as a rose, and a prepossessing if not a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>pretty face, yet with a nose which, as Marie-Antoinette wickedly +remarked, had never been finished; at one time, too, there were +the Count and Countess de Provence, the latter an elder sister of +the Countess d’Artois, and the reverse of good-looking. Louis +XVI. in his blunt way once told his brother that his wife was by +no means handsome, to which the Count de Provence quietly replied, +“Sire, I find her to my taste, and that is quite sufficient.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_223" href="#Footnote_223" class="fnanchor">[223]</a> +Then there was the queen’s sister-in-law, Madame Elisabeth, her +true and loving friend until death; next there were the Polignacs, +foremost among whom was the Countess Jules, the queen’s most +particular favourite, who was very handsome, with expressive blue +eyes, a ravishing mouth, beautiful small white teeth, a nose just a +trifle <i>retroussé</i>, a forehead perhaps a little too high, magnificent +brown hair, a skin almost as white as alabaster, low shoulders and +a well set neck which seemed to give height to her small figure. +A touching sweetness formed the foundation of her physiognomy—looks, +features, smiles, everything with her partook of the angelic. +She had, moreover, wit and grace, and a natural ease and <i>abandon</i> +which were positively charming. Negligence was her coquetry, +dishabille her full dress. It has been said of her that she never +looked better than when in a loose morning gown, and with a simple +rose, perhaps, in her hair. When the queen first took notice +of her, she and her husband, with their two young children, were +living in a very humble style (we have heard what Madame de la +Motte had to say of her poverty)⁠<a id="FNanchor_224" href="#Footnote_224" class="fnanchor">[224]</a> on a miserable income of three +hundred and twenty pounds a year. A pension of six thousand +livres was immediately granted her, and ere long she was +appointed governess of the royal children, with a salary of fifty +thousand livres and her husband named postmaster-general, and +master of the horse to the queen, with a salary of eighty thousand +livres; in addition to which a joint pension of eighty thousand +livres was conferred upon them, besides other considerable emoluments +which brought their income almost up to three hundred +thousand livres.⁠<a id="FNanchor_225" href="#Footnote_225" class="fnanchor">[225]</a> The count, who through the influence of the +queen had been raised to the dignity of a duke, seems to have been +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>an amiable sort of man, very generally liked, for he had not +allowed his good fortune to spoil him. His sister, the Countess +Diane, one of Madame Elisabeth’s ladies of honour, was given, we +are told, to gallantry and intrigue; her son by the Marquis +d’Autichamp—the same wicked rake who was so anxious to escort +Madame de la Motte from Lunéville to Paris—entered the Russian +service, and was killed at the battle of Austerlitz.⁠<a id="FNanchor_226" href="#Footnote_226" class="fnanchor">[226]</a> Her personal +appearance was the very reverse of engaging. She was compared +to a brown owl (she was a southern brunette), with all its feathers +in disorder, and to a paroquet, with a crooked beak and round eyes +surrounded by dark circles.⁠<a id="FNanchor_227" href="#Footnote_227" class="fnanchor">[227]</a> Nevertheless, she had only to open +her mouth to have face, form, toilette, the little she had received +from nature, and the little that she herself did to render herself +pretty, entirely forgotten. It was impossible to know her and not +to be prepossessed in her favour. Her arch way of looking at a +subject, her piquant turn of thought, which was almost epigrammatic, +her sudden changes from gaiety to sadness, from irony to +sensibility, her audacity, which nothing could intimidate, her +daring and contagious recklessness, made her a general favourite +in the society over which she to some extent dominated. A +woman like her was invaluable to a court already depressed with +melancholy, to put life into the conversation, to dissipate dull +thoughts, to defy alarm, to prophesy fine weather, and display a +perfect disregard for the future.</p> + +<p>The young Princess de Lamballe, one of the earliest friends +Marie-Antoinette made in France, ranked next to the Countess +Jules de Polignac in her favour. She was a trifle jealous at having +been supplanted by her rival, and rather held aloof from the +Trianon <i>coterie</i>. Extremely beautiful, as amiable as she was +handsome, and left a widow when she was only eighteen—her +husband, son of the old Duke de Penthièvre, who received Madame +de la Motte so courteously at Château-Villain, having fallen a +victim to early debauchery—a peculiar interest attached to her. +A native of the sunny south, she nevertheless possessed all the +northern graces. The sweet serenity of her countenance was its +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>great charm: there was tranquillity even in the flash of her eye. +On her beautiful forehead, shaded by her long fair hair, not a +cloud, not a trace existed of the early grief she had been called +upon to suffer. Her mind had all the serene beauty of her face. +She was gentle, affectionate, full of caresses, always just, always +ready to make sacrifices, devoted even in trifles, and disinterested +above everything. Who has not felt pity for her subsequent unhappy +fate?</p> + +<p>No one occupied a more prominent position in the queen’s +society at the Little Trianon than the Baron de Besenval, a handsome-looking +man past middle age, tall and well proportioned, +with sharply-defined profile and large well-formed nose, quick, +intelligent eye, and a small mouth curled up in a mocking and disdainful +pout. Of cultivated tastes, full of insolent grace, perfectly +content with himself and ever ready to laugh at others, pleasure +was the sole pursuit of his life until the death of Louis XV. brought +him into closer contact with the Count d’Artois, colonel-general of +the Swiss guards, in which corps Besenval, himself a Swiss, held a +command. Of the count he made a friend, got presented through +his influence to the queen, whose confidence he secured and +whom he almost directed; was appointed lieutenant-general of the +army, grand cross commander of St.-Louis, and inspector-general of +the Swiss guards, without seeming at all astonished at his good +fortune. In the hour of danger, however, he was found singularly +wanting, and it was soon evident that he was not the man to save +the monarchy or stem the tide of revolution. His conduct while +in command of the army of Paris has been very generally and +deservedly condemned.</p> + +<p>M. de Vaudreuil was another prominent member of the Trianon +<i>coterie</i>, who, entering early in life the highest and most exclusive +society of Versailles, had come to the conclusion that human +nature, as it was to be found in courts, was neither so very beautiful +nor so very great as was commonly represented. Intellect +charmed him, and above all that intellect which sparkled with wit. +He was the friend of all clever men, spoke but rarely himself, but +would lie in wait behind the hubbub of the talkers and suddenly +discharge his arrow right at the mark. What made him a +favourite with the queen was the fact of his being the best private +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>actor of his day. When young he had been remarkably handsome, +but the small-pox had destroyed his good looks. Suffering from +disease of the lungs, and subject to nervous twitchings of the +body and to frequent fits of depression, he had all the immunities +of a sick person accorded him. The good nature of the Duchess +de Polignac and the indulgence of his friends caused them to +tolerate his caprices and whims. His disposition changed daily +according to his bodily ailments; still he was not without certain +vigorous virtues, for he was noble, generous, frank, loyal, and a +devoted and constant friend.</p> + +<p>Next on the list of the queen’s favourites comes M. d’Adhémar, +whose musical skill and admirable voice had procured him the +applause of the master of the king’s music. He wrote verses and +songs, acted well, and accompanied himself on the harpsichord. +His was but a little mind; nevertheless, under a guise of modesty +and humility he nourished grand schemes of ambition, and eventually +succeeded in securing for himself the English embassy, in connection +with which we shall hear of him again. His complaisance +was proverbial; he courted every one, offended no one, made +innocent jokes in an undertone of voice, and never lost his temper. +It will be understood what manner of man he was when we remark, +that the women spoke to him when they had nothing to say, +the men when they had nothing to do. Harmless as he appears +to have been, he did not escape the notice of the lampooners of +the time, who characterized him as—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Un marquis de hasard, ha, ha, ha, ha!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Chevalier d’industrie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Major d’infanterie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Colin de comédie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">C’est Monsieur d’Adhémar, a, a, a, a.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_228" href="#Footnote_228" class="fnanchor">[228]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>The remaining <i>habitués</i> of the Little Trianon were the three +Coignys: the Duke de Coigny, the queen’s most constant friend, +whom the Trianon set desired to make her lover, which the Duke +d’Orléans maintained he already was—styling the young dauphin +“<i>Le fils de Coigny</i>;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_229" href="#Footnote_229" class="fnanchor">[229]</a> the Count de Coigny, a big, good-tempered +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>man; and the Chevalier de Coigny, an agreeable flatterer, whom +all the women strove to secure to themselves, and who was a +favourite wherever he went; the Duke de Guines, the “Versailles +Journal,” as he was styled, who knew and repeated all the scandal +of the court, ridiculed everybody, and was consequently disliked +by everybody, who was an excellent musician, and prided himself +immensely on having played the flute with the great Frederick; +the Prince d’Henin, a philanthropist at court like a fish out of +water; the Bailli du Crussol, who made jokes with a most serious +air; the Count de Polastron, who played the violin in a ravishing +style, and his pale and languishing wife—the amiable “Goddess of +Melancholy,” as she was called; the Count and Countess de +Châlons; the Count and Countess d’Andlau; the sensible, witty, +and good-natured Madame de Coigny; the Duke de Guiche, +captain of the king’s guards, and his young and lovely duchess, +daughter of the Duchess Jules de Polignac.⁠<a id="FNanchor_230" href="#Footnote_230" class="fnanchor">[230]</a> Besides the foregoing, +there were a few distinguished foreigners, such as Prince +Esterhazy, the Prince de Ligne, the Count de Fersen, a prominent +member of the Swedish aristocracy, who was styled by the women +the “Beau Fersen,” and who in subsequent years drove the <i>berline</i> +in which the royal family sought to escape from France, and +eventually lost his life in an <i>émeute</i> at Stockholm in the year 1810; +and the Baron de Stedingk, the intimate friend of Fersen and a +great favourite with Marie-Antoinette, who said to him, on parting +with him in 1787: “Remember, M. de Stedingk, that under no +circumstances can any harm happen to you;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_231" href="#Footnote_231" class="fnanchor">[231]</a> implying that her +influence, which she believed to be paramount, would be exercised +for his protection in whatever quarter of the world he might chance +to be, and little dreaming that in a very few years there would not +be another woman in all France so powerless as she.</p> + +<p>Having made acquaintance with the queen’s society at the +Trianon, let us now see what the Trianon itself was like; that +Little Trianon to which Marie-Antoinette retired to escape the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>splendours, the restraints, the intrigues, and, most of all, the +slanders of the court, and enjoy the society of friends of her own +choosing; a retirement which unhappily gave rise to new calumnies—calumnies +which it does not seem in nature for one woman to +invent or propagate of another, but which Madame de la Motte more +than insinuates in her lying “Mémoires Justificatifs,” and which +have outlived the other hideous slanders of which Marie-Antoinette +was the victim; that Little Trianon, where Madame de la Motte +asserts most of her pretended interviews with the queen took place, +and where she affirms Marie-Antoinette was accustomed to receive +the Cardinal de Rohan, who, according to the countess’s statements, +would come late at night disguised as a valet, and spend hour after +hour with the queen in a small pavilion in the gardens while she +remained outside on the watch.⁠<a id="FNanchor_232" href="#Footnote_232" class="fnanchor">[232]</a> On one occasion the Cardinal de +Rohan certainly did go to the Little Trianon, and in a partial disguise, +but it was by bribing the gatekeeper that he gained admission +to the grounds. It was at the time when both building and gardens +were brilliantly illuminated in honour of the visit of the Grand +Duke Paul of Russia—afterwards the mad and luckless Emperor +Paul—and his Grand Duchess, who were travelling about Europe +under the titles of Count and Countess du Nord. The cardinal, +who professed great anxiety to see these illuminations, promised +the gatekeeper to remain in his lodge until all the company had left +for Versailles; instead of which, when the man’s back was turned, +he slunk into the gardens, and, with his cardinal’s red stockings +showing below his overcoat, took up the most prominent position +he could select, where he waited for the royal family and its suite +to pass. The queen saw him and recognised him, and next day +gave orders for the instant dismissal of the gatekeeper; but +Madame Campan, who had been informed of all the circumstances, +appealed to Marie-Antoinette in the man’s behalf, and succeeded in +getting him retained in his post.⁠<a id="FNanchor_233" href="#Footnote_233" class="fnanchor">[233]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>To console Marie-Antoinette for not having appointed her +favourite, the Duke de Choiseul, prime minister, Louis XVI. is +said to have given her the Little Trianon, which skirts the park of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>Versailles and adjoins the gardens of the Great Trianon, to do as +she pleased with. “You love flowers,” said he: “ah! well, I have +a bouquet for you—the Little Trianon.”</p> + +<p>The repairing and embellishing of this miniature palace, the +alteration and enlargement of its grounds, with a host of artists +and gardeners subject to her sway, was for the next year or two +Marie-Antoinette’s greatest delight. The building, erected by the +architect Gabriel, for Louis XV., is of a square form, and each of +its sides has a frontage of only seventy feet. It is in the Italian +style, and its different façades are ornamented with Corinthian +columns or pilasters and enriched friezes and cornices. The depraved +old king in the last years of his life was enamoured with +this “little corner of his grand Versailles.” It was to his taste, for +here he could live in retirement and at his ease. In addition to its +flower garden, laid out in the formal French style, there was a +botanical garden, which Louis XIV., at the time he lived at the +Great Trianon, caused to be planted with exotic trees and shrubs +of multifarious tints and perfumes then almost unknown in +France.</p> + +<p>The principal entrance to the Little Trianon leads immediately +to the grand staircase with its handsome gilded balustrade, in the +interlacings of which the initials M. A. are prominently displayed. +Facing the landing, as if in menace, is a head of the Medusa, +which proved powerless however to keep out scandal. After a +small antechamber comes the <i>salle-à-manger</i>, decorated with +paintings of the four seasons by Dejeune, and bathing and fishing +subjects by Pater, and the re-joined <i>parquet</i> of which shows traces +of the opening through which Loriot’s flying table was accustomed +to ascend at the orgies of Louis XV. In this apartment commence +the ornaments upon the panelling—crossed quivers surmounted +by wreaths of roses and garlands of flowers—executed by order of +Marie-Antoinette. The little <i>salon</i> near the <i>salle-à-manger</i> displays +in relief upon its sides emblems of the vintage and the attributes +of the genius of comedy. Hanging from festoons of grapes are +bunches and baskets of fruit, masks and tambourines, flutes and +guitars, and beneath the marble beards of the goats that support +the mantelpiece more bunches of grapes are entwined. At the +four corners of the cornice of the grand <i>salon</i> are groups of cupids +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>at play. Each panel, surmounted by the emblems of literature +and the arts, springs from a stalk of triple flowering lilies, garlanded +with laurel and with a wreath of full-blown roses by way of +crest. Four paintings by Watteau—of those graceful Decameron-like +subjects in which he excelled—are on the walls of this +apartment. In the little cabinet which precedes the queen’s bedchamber +the finest arabesques run over the woodwork; here are +cupids bearing cornucopias overflowing with flowers, cooing doves, +smoking tripods, and crossed bows and arrows hanging to ribbons. +Bouquets of poppies intermingled with thousands of small flowers, +all most delicately rendered, are scattered over the panels of the +bedroom; the bed with its light blue silk hangings, the chairs +and couches <i>en suite</i>, and the console tables, looking-glasses, clock +and chandeliers being, it is said, much as they were in the days +of Marie-Antoinette.</p> + +<p>The most elegant façade of the little palace, with its four fluted +Corinthian columns and its four flights of steps in the form of an +Italian terrace, looks over the French garden, with its flower beds +of geometric form and the flowers themselves planted in straight +lines. In the centre of this garden, which is bordered by cool +green arcades formed of trees clipped into shape, is a small pavilion +with groups of cupids surmounting each of its four entrances. This +was the summer dining-room of both Louis XV. and Marie-Antoinette. +At the end of one of these leafy arcades is the theatre, +where the queen and her friends performed alike comedies and +operas. Sculptured in high relief above the principal entrance is a +cupid grasping a lyre and a crown of laurel, with torches, trumpets, +and rolls of music lying at his feet. The interior decorations of +the theatre are white and gold; the orchestra stalls and fronts of +the boxes are covered with blue velvet, the panels being decorated +with cupids suspending garlands of flowers. On either side of the +stage two gilded nymphs gracefully twist themselves into candelabra, +and above the curtain two other nymphs support the +escutcheon of Marie-Antoinette.</p> + +<p>At the back and to the right of the little palace is the queen’s +production, the English garden as it is called, laid out with an +absence of formality which almost rivals the productions of +Nature’s self. The waters apparently wind according to their own +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>fancy, the trees and shrubs seem to have been sown at the will of +the wind. Nearly a thousand varieties of trees, some among them +being most rare, join their shade and mingle the different tints of +their leaves, which vary from the lightest and deepest greens to +dark purple and cherry red. The flowers appear to have been +planted at hazard; the ground rises and falls at its will; paths +wind and go out of the way with provoking pertinacity; stones +have been converted into rocks, and small patches of grass made to +resemble meadows.</p> + +<p>From a hillock in the midst of a thicket of roses, jasmine, and +myrtle, rises a belvidere, from whence the queen was accustomed +to take in a view of the whole of her domain. This octangular +pavilion, with its four windows and its four doors, and its eight +sphinxes crouching upon the steps, has repeated eight times over, +in figures upon its skirtings and in emblems over its entrances, +the allegory of the four seasons, carved by perhaps the cleverest +chisel of the century. The interior is paved with coloured marbles, +and coloured arabesques run along its walls, with more bows and +arrows and quivers, more bouquets and garlands of flowers and +musical instruments, together with cameos and cages hanging +from ribbons, and little monkeys and squirrels that scratch the +sides of a crystal vase or play with the fishes. In the centre of +the pavilion, a table, from which hang three rings, rests upon three +claws of gilt bronze; this is the table at which Marie-Antoinette +breakfasted, for this belvidere was her morning <i>salle-à-manger</i>.</p> + +<p>From here she could overlook her grotto and the group of +artificial rocks; the waterfall, and the trembling bridge thrown +across the little torrent; the lake, and, under the shade of the +shrubs, the embarking and landing-places, with the galley dotted +all over with <i>fleurs-de-lis</i>; the temple of love open to all the winds, +with its statue, by Bouchardon, of Cupid trying to trim for himself +a bow out of the massive club of Hercules; the groves that skirt the +river’s bank; and, finally, at the most remote part of the garden—the +background, so to speak, of the picture—the hamlet where +Marie-Antoinette had the king disguised as a miller, and the Count +de Provence as a schoolmaster. Here are the little houses of the +village nestled together like members of one family. The queen’s +is the prettiest of them all, for it has vases filled with flowers, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>grape-vines in front of it. On the opposite side of the lake, and +near to the water’s edge, is the white marble dairy, with its four +goat’s-head fountains, and close beside it, and near to a weeping-willow +planted by the queen’s own hand, is the tower of Marlborough, +so called from the nursery song which the young +dauphin’s <i>bonne</i> used to sing to him. Nothing is wanting to this +pretty village of the stage, neither the curé’s house nor that of the +bailiff; nor the mill, with its wheel which actually turns; neither +the farmhouse, with the stone troughs for the cattle, and the little +barns to store away the corn; nor the thatched roofs, the wooden +balconies, the little diamond-paned windows, and the flights of +steps at the sides of the cottages. Marie-Antoinette and Hubert +Robert, the painter, had thought of everything, even of painting +rents in the stone work, cracks in the plaster, with here and there +beams and bricks jutting out of place, as if time would not wither +with sufficient rapidity this pleasantry of a queen.⁠<a id="FNanchor_234" href="#Footnote_234" class="fnanchor">[234]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Marie-Antoinette put aside all regal authority at the Trianon. +Here she was no longer queen, but merely the mistress of the +establishment, which was like an ordinary country-house, with its +small retinue of servants and all its unrestrained habits. When +the queen entered the <i>salon</i>, the ladies neither quitted the piano +nor their embroidery-frames, nor the men their games at billiards +or backgammon. The king would come to Trianon on foot, and +unattended. The queen’s guests arrived at two o’clock to dinner, +and returned to Versailles at midnight. Marie-Antoinette’s occupations +and amusements were exclusively those of a country life. +Attired in a white muslin dress, a lace shawl, and a straw hat, she +would run about the gardens, or visit her farm, where she would +take her guests to drink her milk and eat her new-laid eggs; or +she would conduct the king to a summer-house, where he could +read his book undisturbed until she summoned him to a lunch on +the grass; after which she would amuse herself by watching the +milking of her cows, or with fishing in the lake, or, seated on a +rustic seat, would occupy herself by winding up the distaff of +some young villager. Now and then she would give some grand +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>ball, to which all the courtiers from Versailles would be invited, +when dancing would go on under a large tent on the lawn in the +day-time until the sun set, and at night-time almost until it rose +again.</p> + +<p>All this must have been a great relief from Versailles and Marly +and the troop of intriguing courtiers that migrated backwards and +forwards according as royalty pitched its tent at one château or +the other. There was something too morally foul in the atmosphere +of both these places. Most of the evenings not given up to +dancing were spent at play, which some letters of court gossip of +the time characteristically describe as being “murderous.” The +Count d’Artois, after losing two million francs, was exiled by the +king to Fontainebleau. On one occasion a certain M. de Chalabre +lost as much as 42,000 louis at a sitting, and being without sufficient +ready cash to discharge the whole of his obligations, had to +hand over debts due to him from the Countesses de Provence and +d’Artois, for fifty thousand and twenty-five thousand crowns respectively. +The queen, who was a winner of 7000 louis of poor +Chalabre’s money, sent the next day, we are told, for Mdlle. +Bertin, her milliner, and paid her account. Among the persons of +rank and position admitted to these assembles there seem to have +been both sharpers and pickpockets, for on one occasion a rouleau +of fifty counterfeit louis was placed on a card by M. du Luc +d’Andilly, an ex-mousquetaire, and son of Count du Luc of +Picardy. On the cheat being discovered, the king ordered the +culprit to be degraded from his nobility and declared incapable of +serving him in future. At another time, Count Arthur Dillon, one +of the queen’s intimate friends, had his pocket picked of his purse +filled with bank notes. It was suggested that everybody in the +<i>salon</i>—some forty in number—should be searched, but nothing +was done, and the count never saw his purse again.⁠<a id="FNanchor_235" href="#Footnote_235" class="fnanchor">[235]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Private theatricals were at this time in great favour with the +queen, whose Trianon <i>troupe</i> comprised the Count d’Artois, who is +said to have danced passably well on the tight rope, but only acted +in a manner that was just bearable,⁠<a id="FNanchor_236" href="#Footnote_236" class="fnanchor">[236]</a> M. de Vaudreuil, M. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>d’Adhémar, the Duke and Duchess de Guiche, the Countess +Diane de Polignac, and M. de Crussol: occasionally the Baron de +Besenval, the Countess de Polastron, and Counts Esterhazy and +de Coigny had parts assigned them. The Count de Provence and +his wife considered these diversions beneath their rank, and the +king, moreover, disapproved of them. Out of politeness to the +queen, he was now and then present at the representations, when +he habitually hissed the actors. On one occasion, when the +“Devin du Village” was being played, and the queen was singing +an air with more than her accustomed taste, all at once a whistle +was heard from the back of one of the boxes. Marie-Antoinette +soon perceived that it was from the king himself that this interruption +proceeded. Advancing to the footlights, she bowed profoundly, +and said, with a smile: “Sir, if you are dissatisfied with +the performers you can leave, and your money will be returned to +you.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_237" href="#Footnote_237" class="fnanchor">[237]</a> She then resumed her song, which she was permitted to +finish without further interruption. Beaumarchais’ comedy of the +“Barbier de Seville,” for which, Madame Campan tells us, Marie-Antoinette +was studying her part at the time she made the disclosure +to her of the conversation she had had with Böhmer +respecting the Necklace, was the last piece performed by this +aristocratic <i>troupe</i>. It was played on the 19th of August, 1785, +the very day on which the Countess de la Motte was lodged in the +Bastille.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVII">XXVII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">CALUMNIES AGAINST THE QUEEN.—HER ANIMOSITY AGAINST THE +CARDINAL DE ROHAN.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>From the day she became queen, to the very hour of her death, +and even after the grave had closed over her headless corse, the +unhappy Marie-Antoinette was fated to be the victim of calumny. +Her youthful levity was magnified into natural vice. Her most +innocent amusements were made the objects of dark suspicion. +Her friendships were so many criminal attachments. From Marly +to Versailles, and from Versailles to Marly, slander pursued her. +It penetrated the groves of Trianon, and insinuated that secret +orgies, rivalling those of the “Parc aux cerfs,” were carried on in this +now favourite retreat. Indecent pamphlets referring to her, written +by hireling scribes, were circulated all over France. Libels against +her were even forged in the police bureau. Scandalous songs were +thrown at the king’s feet, in the “Œil-de-Bœuf.” Scandalous libels +were placed under his dinner-napkin. Courtiers repeated the last +foul epigram, the last lying report against the queen, in the royal +antechambers, whispered it and chuckled over it even in the +queen’s presence; carried it from Versailles or Marly, post haste +to Paris, to the different hostile <i>salons</i>, to the green-rooms of the +theatre and the opera, and to the <i>cafés</i>, thence to be disseminated +all over the capital, even to the <i>halles</i>; carried it to their country +châteaux, and laughed over it at their dinner-tables, whence it +spread among their tenantry and the inhabitants of the adjacent +towns:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“And they who told it added something new,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And they who heard it made enlargement too,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In ev’ry ear it spread, on every tongue it grew.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Fancy what a perfect fund of scandal this affair of the Necklace, +enveloped as it was at first in such an impenetrable mystery, provided +for these despicable minds! What an arsenal for defamation +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>and calumny it furnished to the avowed enemies of Marie-Antoinette! +The Orléans faction professed to look upon it as a state +crime, pretending to believe that the real culprit was the queen, +who had secured the Necklace through the medium of the cardinal, +he having been her dupe in the first instance, and afterwards her +victim. They gave out, through their herd of itinerant agents—men +without characters, without homes, without bread, without +settled occupations, fitted only for scandalous adventures, and living +only by dishonourable expedients—that it was Marie-Antoinette +herself, “<i>la louve Autrichienne</i>,” as they styled her, who had met +the grand almoner in the park of Versailles at midnight; that it +was she who had heard his exculpation, and had listened to his new +promises of fealty, which had been sealed by embraces and the gift +of a rose; and further, that she had subsequently granted him +several secret interviews at the Little Trianon. On this false basis +they raised their broad superstructure of defamation, and pursued +the queen with every species of malignant slander in pasquinades, +epigrams, and songs,⁠<a id="FNanchor_238" href="#Footnote_238" class="fnanchor">[238]</a> “unfit for print or pen, the brutality of which +nothing can exceed; but which, nevertheless, found believers—increase +of believers, in the public exasperation—and did the queen, +say all her historians, incalculable damage,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_239" href="#Footnote_239" class="fnanchor">[239]</a> until finally the hideous +fabrications culminated in the epithet of Messalina, hurled +at her by the furies of the <i>halles</i> on her way to the guillotine.</p> + +<p>To this body of antagonists must be added those retailers of +gossip and small talk who, in a country like France, where most +men are mixed up in intrigues, (and no reputation is too sacred for +the inuendo, the smart sally, and the <i>bon-mot</i>,) delight and revel in +scandals enveloped in some degree of mystery. There was certainly +no lack of mystery in the affair of the Necklace, and these quick-witted +individuals, thinking only of the entangled web offered them +to unravel, displayed their ingenuity in suggesting clue after clue, +regardless as to whether this or that clever explanation which they +put forward compromised the queen or no, for the old loyal feeling +of the nation was by this time utterly dead.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span></p> + +<p>The lower classes of society in France had for some time past +been brought to believe, and not without reason, that kings and +queens were their natural enemies; that they despised, if they did +not hate, their poorer subjects, whom they only valued as so much +food for powder, or for what they could furnish to the exchequer +through the hard extortion of the tax-gatherer. Marie-Antoinette +was deservedly blamed for her thoughtless acquisition of the +château of St. Cloud, at an outlay of six million francs, at this +particular period when several bad harvests had imposed new hardships +on the people; when provisions were frightfully scarce, prices +correspondingly high, and tillage employment, save as “statute +labour,” hardly to be had. The peasants in certain parts had even +been reduced to live “on meal, husks, and boiled grass.” In the +towns, the distress, if not so great, was still considerable, and large +numbers of men were out of work. Crowds of idlers, as a matter +of course, filled the cafés and cabarets—men with fermenting minds, +and only too ready to believe any new calumny against the objects +of their disaffection, and to lend their busy tongues to circulate the +foulest slanders through the land. Upon the quick fancies of these +thoughtless men, who never paused to examine what they heard, +the enemies of Marie-Antoinette, who went about inflaming the discontented, +encouraging the angry, and imposing on the thoughtless +and the credulous, made a lasting and fatal impression.</p> + +<p>Whilst the numerous enemies of the queen were thus at work +turning the Necklace scandal to the best account, the Baron de +Breteuil, whose hatred of the cardinal knew no bounds, was straining +every nerve to convert it into an instrument for the effectual +ruin of his enemy. The Abbé Georgel assures us that this animosity +went so far as to induce the minister to promise Böhmer—who, +according to some accounts, had in the first instance been +arrested in conjunction with Saint-James and others on suspicion of +being privy to the abuse of the queen’s name⁠<a id="FNanchor_240" href="#Footnote_240" class="fnanchor">[240]</a>⁠—full payment for +the Necklace if he would aggravate his evidence against the cardinal. +De Breteuil also sent emissaries to the Bastille, to communicate +with Madame de la Motte, offering to save her if she would +furnish sufficient proof to inculpate his old enemy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span></p> + +<p>Beugnot, at this period a rising young barrister of four-and-twenty, +understood to be an intimate acquaintance of the De la +Mottes, and known to have been the person last in company with +the countess previous to her arrest, fully expected to be sent to join +her in the Bastille. The Baron de Breteuil, however, far from +ordering Beugnot’s arrest, instructed M. de Crosne,—recently appointed +lieutenant of police in place of M. Lenoir, promoted to the +presidency of the administration of finances—to send privately for +the young barrister, when, playing on his vanity, he recommended +him to take the countess’s brief, as the trial was certain to attract +the eyes of all men, and could hardly fail to push forward a young +advocate in his career. But Beugnot, who knew his proposed client +too well, declined to avail himself of the opportunity. “The next +day,” observes he, “I received a new message from M. de Crosne, +which involved another visit on my part. The lieutenant of police +gave me an opened letter of Madame de la Motte’s, who, not understanding +the difficulties which I felt in charging myself with her +defence, begged me to come and see her. M. de Crosne backed up +her request with some pressing solicitations of his own; then judging +from my obstinate refusal, or possibly from something that +Madame de la Motte had said to him, that I thought there was +danger attached to the post proposed to me, he sought to reassure +me on this point, and urged me to see the Baron de Breteuil. I +declined. ‘I could say nothing to the minister,’ I remarked, +‘which I had not already said to him, neither would the former +obtain from me what I had refused to the lieutenant of police.’ +M. de Crosne insisted still more strongly, and gave me to understand +that more condescension on my part to the views of the authorities +would be neither prejudicial to my professional advancement nor +to my fortune; his favourite refrain always being—‘See the Baron +de Breteuil.’ I gave M. de Crosne to understand that I should not +have that honour, since I did not see to what it could lead, and I +left him, after obtaining permission to address to him a letter in reply +to the one he had delivered to me.</p> + +<p>“When recalling this scene, I can scarcely doubt the nature of +the political interest which the Baron de Breteuil took in Madame +de la Motte. He knew from one of his confidential emissaries, with +whom I had been conversing, that I treated the stealing of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>Necklace as comparatively a pitiful incident; but that I regarded +the scene in the park almost in the light of a capital crime. This +was apparently in precise accordance with his own views, and made +him anxious that Madame de la Motte’s counsel should share to the +fullest extent in his opinions. In replying to the countess’s letter, +I grounded my refusal on my want of talent and experience for so +grave a business, and I added, that it would be useless for her to +insist further, as my refusal being dictated to me by my conscience, +nothing she could urge would induce me to revoke it.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_241" href="#Footnote_241" class="fnanchor">[241]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>On her side, Marie-Antoinette, deeply and very naturally incensed +against the Prince de Rohan, and, truth to tell, quite as +eager for his destruction as the minister Breteuil, refused likewise +to look elsewhere for a culprit. Both she and the king believed the +grand almoner to be guilty of the peculation of the Necklace, and +of an impertinent abuse of the queen’s name. They knew he had +contracted enormous debts; they knew, too, that he had been +charged with tampering with the funds of a rich hospital, the +Quinze-Vingts, of which he was treasurer, and that he had hitherto +led a most dissolute life. Was he not, therefore, precisely the man +who would be likely to perpetrate such a crime? Already branded +in public opinion for an alleged malversation of a million of francs +in the matter of the Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, his office of +grand almoner, and his dignity as a prince of the Church, could not +raise him above suspicion. The aversion first excited in the queen’s +mind by the cardinal’s private letter against her mother, and his +injurious representations respecting herself at the court of Vienna, +was increased to positive hatred by the description of the scene in +the park of Versailles, by the frequent association of her own name +with his in people’s mouths, as well as by the offensive commentaries +provoked by that association. This burning abhorrence, +continually fed by fresh reports similar in character to the foregoing, +so blinded Marie-Antoinette to the strict rules and rigid +formalities of justice, that in her first moments of passion she is +said to have demanded the cardinal’s life of the king, and the king, +moreover, is believed to have promised her that he should not +escape the scaffold.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVIII">XXVIII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1785. Sept.–Oct.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">PREPARATIONS FOR THE TRIAL.—CAPTURE OF THE COUNTERFEIT +QUEEN.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The Cardinal de Rohan, who in the first instance was looked upon +as the grand criminal in the Necklace affair, was no sooner in safe +keeping than the somewhat difficult question arose what should be +done with him. It is true that the queen, in her first moments of +anger, urged on by her adviser, the Abbé Vermond, and the +cardinal’s enemy, the Baron de Breteuil, was for doing swift execution +upon the grand almoner; but fortunately for the latter there +were certain tedious forms of law to be gone through before a +prince of the holy Roman Church could be consigned to the scaffold. +Irresolute Louis XVI. had, of course, no opinion of his own upon the +subject, and it is quite certain that much indecision on the subject +prevailed among his chief advisers. Phlegmatic M. de Vergennes, +though no friend of the queen, seems to have thought it +best to hush the matter up, and let the scandal die out if it +would, and he well-nigh convinced the king that this would be the +proper course to pursue. While the affair was under discussion, +Louis XVI. wrote to M. de Vergennes as follows:</p> + +<p>“I thank you, sir, for your new interview with M. de Breteuil. +I have weighed your reasons; come to-morrow before mass, and I +will hear you upon this subject once more. It is necessary that a +decision should be arrived at, so as to end with this intrigue of a +needy man, who has so scandalously compromised the queen, and +who, in order to clear himself, has no other recourse than to allege +his connection with an adventuress of the worst kind. He dishonours +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>his ecclesiastical character. Being a cardinal, he is none +the less a subject of my crown.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_242" href="#Footnote_242" class="fnanchor">[242]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>This interview seems to have resulted in a proposal to the cardinal, +offering him the option of throwing himself upon the clemency +of the king, or of being arraigned before the parliament, not +doubting that he would be only too ready to accept the first of +these two alternatives. The cardinal, however, decided upon consulting +his friends and advocates; and among the latter were two +of the ablest members of the Paris bar, the one, M. Target, robust +of brain and body, pompous in speech, learned as intense study +could render him, versed in the treasures of literature, fiery, impetuous, +an athlete redoubtable to all,⁠<a id="FNanchor_243" href="#Footnote_243" class="fnanchor">[243]</a> who, as member of the +National Assembly, subsequently busied himself a good deal in +framing the constitution, and was in after years applied to to undertake +the defence of Louis XVI. himself—a duty which he declined +on the plea that he was getting old; the other, M. Tronchet, who, +though ten years older than Target, did undertake to defend the +king, although he knew he was engaging in a hopeless cause—Tronchet, +whose natural phlegm disposed him to listen with attention, +and whom a healthy judgment directed aright even in the +most difficult matters.⁠<a id="FNanchor_244" href="#Footnote_244" class="fnanchor">[244]</a> The cardinal’s friends were all of them +in favour of the parliament; while his advocates were divided +in opinion. Nevertheless, by the parliament he decided he would +be judged, and made known his election to the king in the following +terms:</p> + +<p>“Sire,—I respectfully thank your majesty for the alternative +you have been pleased to offer me. I have no hesitation in preferring +the parliament, as affording me the surest way of unmasking +the intrigue of which I am the victim, and of proving my +innocence before the world.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_245" href="#Footnote_245" class="fnanchor">[245]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>On receiving this reply, and exactly three weeks after the +cardinal’s arrest, the king issued his royal letters patent, addressed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>to the Parliament of Paris, formally apprising it of the great fraud +that had been committed in the queen’s name, and of the arrest of +the supposed authors of it, and requiring the parliament to investigate +and judge the affair. The cardinal having selected the +parliament as the tribunal before which he desired to be arraigned, +now protested, in his character of bishop and prince of the holy +Roman Church, in a somewhat mild way, against the competency +of the judges he had himself chosen, and humbly besought the +parliament that he might be tried by an ecclesiastical tribunal, +composed of his peers or brethren in the episcopacy, in accordance +with the recognised rights and privileges of the Catholic Church. +This request being refused, the cardinal had no option but to +accept the tribunal named by the king. On the pope hearing of +this, he summoned a consistory, which unanimously declared that +the Cardinal de Rohan had acted contrary to his dignity as a +member of the sacred college in recognizing the authority of the +parliament, and at once directed his ecclesiastical suspension for a +period of six months, at the end of which time, in the event of his +persisting in his course, he was to be struck off the list of +cardinals.⁠<a id="FNanchor_246" href="#Footnote_246" class="fnanchor">[246]</a> In this dilemma, the Abbé Lemoine was despatched to +Rome by the cardinal’s friends, and succeeded in proving to the +pope that the Prince de Rohan had made the protests which his +dignity required, though without avail, and that he only accepted +a secular tribunal because he was compelled to subscribe to the +will of the king. The interdict was thereupon removed, and the +cardinal reinstated in all his functions.</p> + +<p>While these formalities were being discussed, and the affair still +partook of the character of a political contest between the adherents +and friends of the house of Rohan united with the enemies +of Marie-Antoinette on the one hand, and the court and government +and partizans of the crown on the other;—while people were +eagerly devouring the statements circulated on behalf of the +accused, and were now blaming, now seeking to exculpate the +cardinal, and were either attacking or sympathising with Madame +de la Motte, and ridiculing Cagliostro,—an individual whom no +one was particularly regarding, was silently, but none the less +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>earnestly, labouring to overthrow the cold calculations of political +animosity, and dissolve all those dreams of private vengeance of +which the Prince de Rohan was the object. This was the Abbé +Georgel, the cardinal’s vicar-general, who had taken upon himself +the task of disentangling the threads of this complicated affair. +With the sanction of the grand almoner, he went first of all to the +jewellers, and arranged with them that they should receive payment +for the Necklace in full, with all interest then due or that +might hereafter accrue, and he gave them as security an assignment +under the cardinal’s hand, of the revenues of the Abbey of +St. Waast, to the amount of three hundred thousand livres per +annum. Thus this able man of business, by a single wrench, so to +speak, drew out the most envenomed shaft, converting the +jewellers from enemies, if not into friends, at any rate into very +harmless antagonists. The cardinal’s other creditors, whose claims +amounted to nearly two millions of livres, on hearing of this +assignment, became clamorous, and had also to be successfully +arranged with.⁠<a id="FNanchor_247" href="#Footnote_247" class="fnanchor">[247]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The abbé directed his attention to the state prosecution, in +order to see whether it could not be diverted from the cardinal, +the actual victim of the fraud, to the countess and her confederates, +the perpetrators of it. Night and day, with the pertinacity of the +true Jesuit, did the Abbé Georgel pursue his plan; now visiting +the Bastille and interrogating the cardinal next examining his +friends, his visitors, and his domestics, and then again the different +individuals to whom these referred him, and taking notes of every +scrap of information he obtained. For many weeks his industry +seemed to yield him no result, for as yet he was without anything +like a positive clue. At length, from hints given him by the Abbé +de Juncker, he tracked out Father Loth, one of the countess’s +minor instruments, and so far privy to, if not an actual accomplice +in, her misdeeds as to judge it prudent on his part to keep entirely +in the background until the Necklace inquiry was brought to a +close.⁠<a id="FNanchor_248" href="#Footnote_248" class="fnanchor">[248]</a> For a long time he was a most unwilling witness, but +eventually the Abbé Georgel skilfully extracted from him all that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>he knew, and learned for the first time the names of Mademoiselle +d’Oliva and of Rétaux de Villette, and the <i>rôles</i> they had been engaged +to play. The announcement of this discovery demolished +in a moment the subtle political intrigue, the object of which had +been to send the Cardinal de Rohan to the scaffold.</p> + +<p>Encouraged by this stroke of good fortune, the abbé proceeded to +track the fugitives, for Mademoiselle d’Oliva, and Rétaux de +Villette, had both turned their backs upon Paris soon after the +countess’s arrest. Through the good offices of the Count de Vergennes, +who prevailed on the king to consent to a demand being made +in his name, for the surrender of the “<i>jolie demoiselle</i>” of the Palais +Royal she was arrested at Brussels on the 16th of October in the +middle of the night by the sub-lieutenant of police, three civic officers, +a greffier, and some half-dozen of the town guard—rather a formidable +force to take an unprotected female of four-and-twenty into +custody. It is supposed to have been owing to the exertions of Marie-Antoinette’s +sister, the Duchess of Saxe-Teschen, then <i>gouvernante</i> +of the Austrian Netherlands, that the Demoiselle d’Oliva and her +lover, a certain M. de Beausire, formerly attached to the household +of the Count d’Artois, were routed out. In a letter of the queen’s, +written to her sister, she says, “Your government, I am certain, +will second me in searching for the woman who played the part in +the garden scene, and who has taken refuge with you.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_249" href="#Footnote_249" class="fnanchor">[249]</a> D’Oliva +was at once brought to Paris, and lodged in the Bastille. She, +however, knew nothing beyond what related to the nocturnal scene +in the park of Versailles, when she had been tricked out to play +the part of queen.</p> + +<p>Yet what Mademoiselle d’Oliva did know she told with frankness +and with an air of perfect truth. A memorial, ostensibly on +her behalf, was brought out by the indefatigable abbé, containing +the announcement of the important fact, now proved beyond a +doubt, that it was the humble individual now in custody, and not +the Queen of France, who took part in the famous interview which +had given rise to so much scandal. The story was so clear, the +incident so fully explained, that the malice of ten thousand +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>tongues was in a moment deprived of its nutriment, and the great +figure of Marie-Antoinette was suddenly withdrawn from the scene—too +late, alas! for her subsequent reputation,—while the innocence +of the cardinal was everywhere beginning to be felt.</p> + +<p>Before D’Oliva’s memorial made its appearance, however, and indeed, +before the counterfeit queen’s capture, Madame de la Motte +had been engaged in furnishing her counsel with the materials for +a memorial on her own behalf, which was made public early in +November, when, in all probability, she had not heard of D’Oliva’s +arrest. This formed number one of that series of lying +“Mémoires” issued by the countess, which, in their endeavour to +explain away certain new evidence that had come to light, contradicted +former statements made by her, contradicted each other, and +at times contradicted themselves. The countess avers that so +great was the excitement on the occasion of the issue of her first +memorial, that M. Doillot, her advocate, was obliged to have a +guard at his house during the distribution of the copies, six +thousand of which were sold in the course of a day or two.⁠<a id="FNanchor_250" href="#Footnote_250" class="fnanchor">[250]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess, who had been in the Bastille for several months, +feeling by no means dissatisfied with the turn her case was +apparently taking, and contenting herself with denying all knowledge +of the Necklace, experienced a certain degree of disquiet on +learning of the arrest of Mademoiselle d’Oliva; still, her fertile +brain was soon at work to concoct some kind of explanation of the +circumstances to which this new witness might be expected to depose. +Besides, if it came to the worst, could she not fall back +upon her system of general denial? and was not D’Oliva a person +of notoriously bad character, whose word would weigh as nothing +against that of a descendant of the house of Valois? It must have +been about this time that she would have also heard from her +counsel of the rumours afloat respecting the depositions which +Carbonnières, intendant of the cardinal’s household, had procured +in England from the jewellers Gray and Jefferys, and have seen +how necessary it was that the more complete story which she would +now be constrained to tell should fit in all its parts with this new +and unexpected evidence. It was more than ever requisite that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>she should be wakeful, since she had heard, like the rest of the +world, that the prosecution would be a contest between the queen +and the Baron de Breteuil on the one hand, and the Prince de +Rohan and his powerful partisans on the other; and there are +strong reasons for believing that the home secretary and other +enemies of the cardinal had insinuated to her, through various +channels, that if she could only produce good evidence against the +grand almoner, no other victim would be required. If we can believe +her own statement, that “mercenary hireling,” as she calls +him, Commissary Chénon, “made use of every argument to exasperate +me against the cardinal,” and wound up by saying, “He +indeed may lay all manner of things to your charge, but make +yourself easy, we shall take care to saddle him with everything.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIX">XXIX.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786. Jan.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE TRIAL: EXAMINATION OF THE ACCUSED.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>At length, after the law had exhausted its customary period of +delay, the examination of the accused commenced. The Cardinal +de Rohan was first questioned, and told his story much the same +as the reader has already gathered it from the preceding pages. +Mademoiselle d’Oliva was next examined, and simply confirmed all +that she had stated in her published memorial, from which we have +quoted the chief passages. Pecuniary embarrassment, she said, +was the sole reason of her leaving Paris within a few weeks of the +time that Madame de la Motte was arrested, for it was then that +her creditors began to press her for payment of their claims. She +went to Brussels by the recommendation of a person who lived in +the same house that she did, and whom she knew to be a native of +that place. It was now the countess’s turn, for as yet Rétaux de +Villette had proved more than a match for the sleuth-hounds of +the Abbé Georgel, and was still skulking in some safe retreat. As +for Cagliostro, his examination was to be deferred until after the +countess’s had been brought to a close.</p> + +<p>Madame de la Motte commenced by detailing the chief incidents +in her career, from the time she was taken notice of by the Marchioness +de Boulainvilliers until the moment of her first introduction +to the Cardinal de Rohan, with something like a regard for +truth. When questioned respecting her pretended intimacy with the +queen, she said she had not the honour of being known to her, and +denied ever having represented that she had access to her; averred +that she had never shown any letters purporting to be from her +majesty; that she had never been honoured with letters from her, +and consequently could not have shown any such letters.</p> + +<p>With regard to Mademoiselle d’Oliva, the countess stated that all +she knew of her arose from casually meeting her in the Palais Royal, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>when she learnt from her that her husband, who was a friend of +Monsieur de Choiseul, had left her, and gone to America. Compassionating +her lonely condition, and finding her to be, to all +appearances, a well-conducted young person, she had asked her to +her house, “and had taken her on one occasion to Versailles, where +she stayed with her for three days.” When asked if she had not +told D’Oliva that she was a lady of the court, on terms of close +intimacy with the queen, by whom she was charged to find a person +who would render her majesty some service, for which a reward of +fifteen thousand francs would be given, she ridiculed the entire +affair. She maintained it to be an invention on the part of the +cardinal and Father Loth, who both knew of the unpleasantness +that had arisen between her husband and herself with regard to +the woman D’Oliva, whom she afterwards found by her behaviour +to be anything but the respectable person she represented herself, +being, in fact, a common courtesan who had been receiving the visits +of Count de la Motte for some time past. She admitted that +D’Oliva walked in the park of Versailles with her husband and +Villette, on some evening in July of the year 1784, while she was +promenading with the Cardinal de Rohan, but she utterly denied +the whole story of dressing her up to personate the queen, and then +conducting her to the park and instructing her what she was to say +on being addressed by a great personage to whom she was to hand +a letter and a rose. The countess protested that she felt highly +indignant at the mere suggestion of these “numerous falsehoods,” +these “horrible reports;” that “the entire thing was most absurd, +and nothing but a foolish and incredible fable, most wretchedly +concocted by its author, the Prince de Rohan.” She said, of course +it was false that she had ever told D’Oliva that the queen was +pleased at the way in which she had acquitted herself, or that she +had read a letter to her, purporting to be from the queen, saying the +same thing; and as for having given D’Oliva one thousand or three +thousand livres, or any money whatever, after this affair, she had +certainly done nothing of the kind.</p> + +<p>When asked if she had obtained from the Cardinal de Rohan two +sums of 50,000 livres and 100,000 livres, in the months of August +and November, 1784, in the queen’s name, she simply ridiculed the +suggestion, and pertinently asked, was it likely the cardinal would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>have been so mad as to have handed over to her such considerable +amounts as these without receiving orders perfectly well known to +have come from the queen, or, at any rate, without taking some kind +of acknowledgment from her for them?</p> + +<p>On being questioned with respect to the Necklace, the countess +denied having had anything whatever to do with its purchase. +She said she only saw the jewellers once before it was sold to the +cardinal, on which occasion she peremptorily declined meddling in +the affair. When asked if she had carried or had shown to the +cardinal a letter purporting to be from the queen, wherein the +queen expressed a wish to possess the Necklace, she ingeniously +observed, that if it were intended to be suggested that she had been +the bearer of any such letter as that alluded to, she desired the +letter might be produced, for it was the cardinal’s duty to have +preserved a document of such importance. She admitted having +casually spoken to the cardinal about the Necklace the day +after the jewellers had shown it to her, but the cardinal appeared +to pay no attention to what she said, although he afterwards sent +to her for the jewellers’ address. She certainly showed his note +to Böhmer and Bassenge, but never said or hinted to them that +he was acting on behalf of the queen, whose name was never once +mentioned. With regard to the actual purchase of the Necklace +she knew positively nothing until several days afterwards, when +the cardinal told her that he had bought it for the queen.</p> + +<p>As to the contract, the countess declared it had not been given +to her to show to the queen, and consequently she could not have +returned it to the cardinal “approved” and signed. When the +contract was first shown to her she immediately recognised the +body of it as being in the cardinal’s handwriting, but she did not +know the writing of the signature: she positively denied having +written it herself, or that it had been signed by any person she +knew.⁠<a id="FNanchor_251" href="#Footnote_251" class="fnanchor">[251]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In reply to further questions, Madame de la Motte stated that +she did not know when the Necklace was handed over, and could +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>not say whether she saw the cardinal at Versailles on the 1st of +February, 1785, although she saw him most days when he was +there. She had no hesitation in declaring the story about the +cardinal bringing the Necklace to her house, and the casket being +handed over to a person who came with a note from the queen, to +be absolutely false from beginning to end. The countess indignantly +denied ever having had the Necklace in her possession, or +having had it taken to pieces; but, knowing well enough that +there was evidence forthcoming of her and her husband having +sold some of the diamonds forming part of it, she endeavoured to +make her admission fit, as it were, with the evidence she thought +likely to be brought forward. She maintained, however, that she +was merely acting as agent for the cardinal, who, she said, sent her +first of all twenty-two diamonds in a little box, with a note bidding +her sell them as soon as she could. Subsequently he sent her a +second box, containing a number of small diamonds which she was +likewise to dispose of. The first parcel of diamonds Villette, she +said, endeavoured to sell, but was unsuccessful, and they were +eventually sold to the jeweller Paris for fifteen thousand livres, by +recommendation of Monsieur Filleul,⁠<a id="FNanchor_252" href="#Footnote_252" class="fnanchor">[252]</a> advocate of Bar-sur-Aube, +and this amount she duly remitted to the cardinal, who afterwards +sent her sixteen other diamonds, which she sold to the same person +for sixteen thousand livres, and forwarded the amount to the +cardinal in the early part of May. The small diamonds, she said, +she sold to Regnier, together with one of larger size which the +cardinal had given her, for the sum of five thousand five hundred +and forty francs. The two diamond rings which, it will be remembered, +were set by Regnier, were set, she said, for the cardinal, +and she asserted the same with respect to a <i>bonbonnière</i> which +Regnier had encircled with diamonds for the count.</p> + +<p>During the same month, while the Cardinal de Rohan was at +Saverne, she said, one Carbonnières, a member of the cardinal’s +household, came to her in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Gilles, at six +o’clock in the morning, and inquired if it would be possible for her +to undertake a journey to Saverne in four days’ time, some urgent +business which he had in hand preventing him from going himself. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>He had something of great value and importance to transmit to +the cardinal, who, he knew, would be very much pleased with her +if she but did what he asked. At the expiration of the four days, +Carbonnières, she said, brought her a large sealed packet, and lent +her his walking-cane, and directed the coachman to proceed by +the Porte St. Martin as far as Pantin, the first stage. On reaching +Saverne she put up at an inn, and apprised the cardinal of her +arrival, whereupon he sent over one of his own carriages to fetch +her. Immediately she saw the cardinal she gave him the sealed +packet, and he asked her to stay and dine with him, but as she +was dressed in man’s clothes she was obliged to decline. The +cardinal, after thanking her for the trouble she had been at on his +account, then made her a present of the <i>bonbonnière</i> which Regnier +had mounted with diamonds for him. “Open it,” he said, “and +you will find something.” She did as directed, and saw it was full +of unset diamonds. On leaving the cardinal intrusted her with a +packet of letters for Carbonnières, which, on her arrival at Paris, +she duly forwarded to the Hôtel de Strasbourg, together with the +walking-cane which had been lent to her.</p> + +<p>At this point of her examination the countess essayed what she +thought would prove a grand <i>coup</i>, which, bewildering and +astonishing her judges, would make her innocence apparent with +due melodramatic effect. She stated that in the month of March +of the year before she went, accompanied by her niece, a little girl +of ten or twelve years of age, daughter of Madame de la Tour, to +the Hôtel de Strasbourg to meet that great, that extraordinary +man, as the cardinal invariably called him, the Count de Cagliostro, +whom she had seen at Strasbourg four years previously, and who +was on the present occasion to exhibit some of his marvellous performances. +She and her niece were conducted to the cardinal’s +sleeping apartment, which was lighted up with twenty or thirty +candles, when Count Cagliostro, calling her niece to him, took her +upon his knee, and made her promise never to reveal to any one +what she was about to see. He then dressed her out with +a blue, green, and black ribbon, and also a white ribbon, to +which was attached a cross and a star, and put on her a white +apron covered over with different orders, and ornamented with +beautiful silver lace. He next placed his naked sword upon her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>head, and pronounced these words: “I command thee, in the +name of the Great Cofte and of the angels Michael and Raphael +to show me what I shall presently tell thee;” and, taking her +niece by the hand, he led her behind a screen where there was a +table and a bottle of very clear water, on which he made her place +her hand. The count then passed to the other side of the screen, +where Madame de la Motte and the cardinal were seated, and +commanded them to keep strict silence. He then pronounced +certain words, of the meaning of which she understood nothing—but +which the cardinal told her were to drive away the evil spirit—and +said to her niece: “Say, ‘I command thee to make me see +all that I desire.’ Strike! What dost thou see? Hold thy hand +always upon the bottle. What dost thou see?” “Nothing, +monsieur.” “Strike again. Strike! strike! What dost thou +see? Dost thou not see a woman dressed in white, with a long +fair face?” “Yes, monsieur.” “Who is it? Dost thou not see +the queen? Dost thou know her?” “Yes, monsieur; it is the +queen.” “Say again, ‘In the name of the Great Cofte I command +thee to show me all that I shall desire.’ Strike! What dost thou +see, little one? Seest thou not an angel on thy right, who turns +towards thee as though to embrace thee? Seest thou?” “Yes, +monsieur.” “Ah well! embrace him!”</p> + +<p>Some days afterwards the Count de Cagliostro, who was not +satisfied with this <i>séance</i>, at which all had not been made visible +that he desired, directed that her niece should be dressed entirely +in white, with her hair hanging loosely down, when he recommenced +the same ceremony. The cardinal, on this occasion, forced +her to go behind the screen, and Cagliostro made her and her +niece go upon their knees, after which he said to the latter: “I +ordain thee, &c. What seest thou, little one? Look at the point +of my sword. Dost thou not see some one kneeling? Who is it? +Name them!” “It is my lord cardinal and my aunt.” “What +does my lord do?” “He takes a crown of six livres from a snuff-box +which you hold in your hand.” “What further does he do?” +“He takes a crown of three livres out of the same box.” “What +more dost thou see at the point of my sword? Dost thou not see +a magnificent palace and gardens?” “Yes, monsieur.” “Whom +dost thou see there?” “No one, monsieur.” “Look again; look +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>well.” “I see nothing, monsieur.” Then Cagliostro, finding that +she saw nothing, said to the cardinal: “She is too old, she is not +pure. I must have another child.” To which the cardinal remarked: +“I understand, one of those you know well.”</p> + +<p>Eight days afterwards, Cagliostro went through a similar performance +with two young children by turns, and in the following +month there was another <i>séance</i> at the cardinal’s hôtel, when Cagliostro +directed a table to be taken to one end of the saloon, and a +large number of lighted candles to be placed upon it. He then +laid his naked sword, crossing it with a poignard, in the centre, +and arranged around it a quantity of medals, and the crosses of +Jerusalem and St. Andrew, and commanded the countess to lay her +hands upon them, and swear that she would never divulge what she +was about to see and hear, and what was going to be proposed to +her. Then, turning to the cardinal, Cagliostro said to him: +“Prince, go now; go now, prince.” They spoke together in a low +tone, and the cardinal went to his secretary, which stood by the +side of his cabinet, and brought from it a rather large oval-shaped +box of white wood, whereupon Cagliostro said to him: “There is +still another; bring it forth.” On opening these boxes they were +both found to be full of diamonds, and the cardinal then said to +her: “Will your husband go to England if I send him? I will +give him two thousand crowns, which he can place with some +banker here for a draft upon London.” Whereupon she asked the +cardinal the name of this banker and his address, to which he replied: +“It is Bergaud (Perregaux), Rue du Sentier; he is my +ordinary banker. Here, take the diamonds; I will settle the price. +Impress upon your husband on no account to sell them without +first of all having them set, and tell him he must not bring any +unset ones back with him.”</p> + +<p>The count went to England as the cardinal had suggested, and +shortly afterwards the cardinal said to her, “Write to your husband +to send me what money he has received, for I have some pressing +payments to make. You remember seeing a lady with me during +Holy week. I have promised her five hundred thousand livres. +She is a German, and is about to marry a gentleman of Versailles +so as to legitimatise a child of which I am the father.” On being +written to, her husband hastened home again, bringing with him +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>drafts upon Bergaud (Perregaux) for 121,000 livres, a medallion +set with brilliants valued at one thousand crowns, a pair of girandole +earrings valued at two thousand crowns, a diamond pin, and +two large diamond rings, which, together with the drafts for one +hundred and twenty-one thousand livres, were handed to the cardinal, +who returned the earrings, the pin, and the medallion, saying, +“Here, keep these for your trouble.” She told the cardinal that +her husband had left behind him, in England, a quantity of diamonds +to be sold or else set, to which the cardinal replied, that he +would prefer their being sold, but would see about this on his return +from Saverne.⁠<a id="FNanchor_253" href="#Footnote_253" class="fnanchor">[253]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>One can very well understand that on the conclusion of this +marvellous narrative the sitting of the court was adjourned, and +that on the following day Madame de la Motte was asked by her +judges what witnesses she could bring forward in support of the +extraordinary statements she had made. The countess replied +there was only the servant who brought her the first box of diamonds +from the cardinal, as the note which accompanied it had +been taken possession of by the Prince de Rohan with all his other +letters to her, when she was confined under lock and key at the +Palais-Cardinal.</p> + +<p>On being asked to account for the opulence which she was known +to have displayed at the very time that she and her husband were, +as she said, selling these diamonds on the cardinal’s behalf, she recapitulated +various presents of money which she affirmed the +cardinal had made her; in addition to which, she said, she had received +considerable gifts from the royal princes and princesses and +from ministers of the crown. She stated that the diamonds which +had been handed to her by the cardinal, including those remaining +unsold in England, were of the value of three hundred and seventy-seven +thousand livres; nevertheless these did not comprise all +that belonged to the Necklace sold to the queen, as the cardinal +had given numbers away; and among them, some of the most +beautiful to the lady, whom he wanted to marry to a gentleman +attached to the suite of the Count de Provence, and others to the +Countess de Cagliostro. After having expressly stated that the +diamonds she and her husband disposed of did not comprise all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>that belonged to the Necklace sold to the queen, Madame de la +Motte maintained, in reply to questions asked her, that she neither +knew nor suspected that any of the diamonds sold by them formed +any portion of the Necklace in question; otherwise she would have +had nothing to do with them, but would have felt it her duty to +have warned the jewellers. When her husband, on seeing such a +large number of unset stones, asked the cardinal where they came +from, the prince replied that they belonged to an old set of jewels +which he had no longer any occasion for now that he was getting +old. When reminded that it was at this very time Laporte had +spoken to her of the jewellers’ inquietude at finding the Necklace +was not worn by the queen, Madame de la Motte observed, that in +this case the jewellers ought to have addressed themselves to the +cardinal, particularly as she had warned them to be cautious. She +denied that the cardinal had at any time expressed astonishment +to her at her majesty not wearing the Necklace; the reverse, +indeed, was the fact, it was she who had expressed her astonishment +to the cardinal.</p> + +<p>The countess, as a matter of course, denied having shown to the +cardinal a letter purporting to be from the queen respecting the +payment of the sum of seven hundred thousand livres to the +jewellers; she also denied having given thirty thousand livres to +the cardinal to be handed over to them as interest for the delay +in the payment of the instalments. When asked what she borrowed +from thirty to forty thousand livres from her notary for at this +precise date, she was ready with her answer. It was to oblige the +Marchioness de Crussol (the same who went to the guillotine with +Madame Elisabeth, the king’s sister, when these two poor ladies +embraced each other at the foot of the scaffold), who came to her, +and told her of the embarrassing position in which the ambassadress +of Portugal was placed through having pledged her diamonds, +which she was unable to redeem, and which would have been sold +if Madame de la Motte had not furnished the money to take them +out of pawn.</p> + +<p>She tried to persuade her judges that the cardinal had called +upon her one morning, and complained to her that he had been +duped in the affair of the Necklace; that he had shown her a +letter which he imagined had come from the queen, containing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>these words, “Send by the little countess⁠<a id="FNanchor_254" href="#Footnote_254" class="fnanchor">[254]</a> a sum of money—the +amount of which she could not recollect—for these unfortunates. +I should be annoyed if they get into trouble.” He suspected, however, +that the letter was not in the queen’s handwriting, and that +he had been made a dupe of. He paced up and down the room +exclaiming, “Has she deceived me, this little countess? has she +deceived me? Oh, no! I know Madame de Cagliostro too well; +she is not capable of this.”</p> + +<p>On being asked if she knew a certain Dame de Courville, she +replied that she had seen her with the cardinal in holy week the +year previous, and that she knew her as a neighbour living within +a few doors of her own house. She then proceeded to say that +this was the same lady the cardinal desired to marry to a gentleman +belonging to the suite of the Count de Provence, and to whom +he had promised to give five hundred thousand livres. When +asked if she knew an individual named Augeard⁠<a id="FNanchor_255" href="#Footnote_255" class="fnanchor">[255]</a> or one Bette +d’Étienville, or one Marsilly, a counsellor, she replied that she knew +none of those persons. This concluded the countess’s first examination, +which lasted from the 20th to the 26th of January, an +entire week, and of which we have given all the chief points to enable +the reader to see the scope and power of Madame de la +Motte’s inventive faculties, and her proficiency in the arts of falsehood +and deceit.</p> + +<p>It was now Cagliostro’s turn to be examined. In answer to +questions put to him, he said that he was a professor of medicine, +of noble birth, and had travelled largely in Asia and Africa, as +well as Europe, most of the chief cities of which he had visited. +He was intimately acquainted with the Prince de Rohan, and since +his (the count’s) arrival in Paris, on the 30th of January in the +past year, had been in the habit of seeing him generally three or +four times a week. During this period the prince and his friends +had occasionally dined with him at his house in the Rue Saint-Claude. +The Necklace, respecting which so much had been said, +was purchased before this time. He remembered the cardinal +expressing certain doubts to him with regard to the genuineness of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>the signature affixed to the contract, when he, sharing in them, +advised the grand almoner to throw himself at the king’s feet and +confess everything that had transpired; but this he resolutely +refused to do.</p> + +<p>With regard to the scene at the Hôtel de Strasbourg, described +by the Countess de la Motte, Cagliostro asserted this was merely +an attempted experiment in animal magnetism, in which he was +no great believer. The ribbons which the child was dressed out +in were some that were lying about the apartment. He denied +having placed his drawn sword on the child’s head, and having +made use of the words ascribed to him; but admitted there was a +bottle of clear water on which the child placed her hand. The +affair was got up entirely at the instigation of Madame de la Motte, +who displayed great anxiety respecting the forthcoming accouchement +of some great lady, and he performed the experiment in the +hope of calming her. The countess’s story about the table with a +large number of lighted candles upon it, and the naked sword and +poignard, and the crosses of Jerusalem and St. Andrew, had not a +particle of truth in it. He never placed Madame de la Motte’s +hand upon these things, and nothing of what she had described +took place. The cardinal did not fetch any diamonds from his +secretary, and, indeed, the whole affair was a pure piece of invention. +The cardinal had given him and his wife a few articles of +jewellery as presents; all these things, and whatever other +diamonds he possessed, had been seized by the police, and were +still in their custody, and could be produced. The cardinal had +never given the Countess de Cagliostro any diamonds forming part +of the Necklace, nor any sum of money arising from the sale of +the diamonds. He had never told the cardinal that his wife was +intimate with the queen. She had never seen the queen, and was +never once at Versailles, and could have had no correspondence +with any one for the best of all reasons—she could not write.⁠<a id="FNanchor_256" href="#Footnote_256" class="fnanchor">[256]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Cagliostro, in his examination, having stripped the countess’s +highly inventive narrative of its marvellous character, and exposed +her falsehoods with respect to the diamonds, and having, moreover, +previously stated in his memorial that he had cautioned the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>Cardinal de Rohan to be on his guard against Madame de la Motte, +whom he stigmatized as a wretch, but that the cardinal would not +believe him, the countess’s indignation knew no bounds. Knowing +the doubtful kind of reputation that attached to Cagliostro, and +the peculiar nature of the relations commonly believed to subsist +between him and the cardinal, who, it was thought, aided and +abetted him in his endeavours to discover the philosopher’s stone—it +was commonly reported that Cagliostro had prevailed on the +cardinal to obtain possession of the Necklace, that he might experiment +upon the diamonds and centriple their value⁠<a id="FNanchor_257" href="#Footnote_257" class="fnanchor">[257]</a>⁠—the +countess believed she could readily have diverted not merely suspicion +towards the “low empiric,” as she was now in the habit of +styling him, but have induced a firm conviction of his guilt. This +had been her aim from the outset, as is evident from the insinuations +in which she indulged in her memorial with regard to +Cagliostro, whom she, or rather her counsel, introduces in the +following grandiloquent style:</p> + +<p>“His name, his surname, his quality? he and the woman +attached to his fortunes?—The Count and so-called Countess de +Cagliostro!</p> + +<p>“His age?—One of his valets said that he knew not the age of +his master, but for himself he had been one hundred and fifty +years in his service. As for the master, he sometimes gave three +hundred years as his age, at other times he said he had assisted at +Galilee at the marriage of Cana.⁠<a id="FNanchor_258" href="#Footnote_258" class="fnanchor">[258]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“His country?—A Portuguese Jew, or Greek, or Egyptian from +Alexandria, who had brought with him to Europe the sorceries +and allegories of the East.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span></p> + +<p>“His habits and his religion?—Doctor of the cabalistic art; one +of those extravagant members of the Rosy Cross who profess to +raise the dead, and make them hold converse with the living—masters +of all the sciences, skilled in the transmutation of baser +metals into gold—beneficent spirits who attend the poor for +nothing, and sell immortality to the rich.</p> + +<p>“His fortune? in short, his means of supporting that luxurious +ostentation which he has displayed before our eyes?—A sumptuous +hôtel, elegant furniture, a well-supplied table, servants in all +sorts of liveries; and the court of this hôtel always noisy with +carriages, announcing in the midst of an intelligent nation visionaries +of every rank—in a word, Cagliostro, without inheriting anything, +without purchasing anything, without selling anything, +without acquiring anything, is possessed of all. Such is this man.</p> + +<p>“What are his great deeds?—Many are known in the different +courts of Europe, others are known to Madame Böhmer;⁠<a id="FNanchor_259" href="#Footnote_259" class="fnanchor">[259]</a> but let +us confine ourselves to the third filtration of the Necklace, when it +is needful to dispose the Count de la Motte to carry to a foreign +country a considerable quantity of diamonds. This is the grand +result furnished by the crucible of the operator.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_260" href="#Footnote_260" class="fnanchor">[260]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Cagliostro, it may be observed, was greatly excited on hearing +of the arrest of his wife, and on afterwards learning that she was +ill, became perfectly frantic. He pretended to believe that she +was dead or at her last extremity, and threatened to kill himself +if he were not permitted to see her, or she were not immediately +set at liberty.⁠<a id="FNanchor_261" href="#Footnote_261" class="fnanchor">[261]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXX">XXX.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786. Feb.–March.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE TRIAL: THE CONFRONTATIONS OF THE ACCUSED WITH EACH OTHER +AND WITH THE WITNESSES.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The examinations having at length terminated, the confrontations +of the accused with each other, and with the principal witnesses, +now commenced. At the time these were going on, the accused, +in accordance with custom, were deprived of the assistance of their +counsel, who were not permitted to hold any intercourse whatever +with them. Madame de la Motte and the cardinal were first confronted +with each other. The countess describes being ushered +into the hall of the Bastille, and the cardinal making his appearance +shortly afterwards. The oaths having been administered, the +opponents surveyed each other attentively; though, says Madame, +the cardinal, “pretending to amuse himself with his pencil, which +he twirled about in his fingers, affected not to regard me,” and the +duello of words at once began. And it was a mere duello of +words, for the real points of the affair seem hardly to have been +touched upon. At the outset the countess evidently thought she +was getting much the best of the contest, for she observes in her +“Life,” that in her replies to the cardinal’s interrogatories her +expressions “were so strongly pointed, so pertinent and forcible, +that every one present gave smiles of approbation.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_262" href="#Footnote_262" class="fnanchor">[262]</a> When +questioned as to whence she derived the means for such an unwonted +display of opulence as she was known to have exhibited, +she pointed to the cardinal, and gave the judges distinctly to +understand that the relations subsisting between them were those +of lover and mistress, and not benefactor and supplicant as had +been commonly supposed; hence the motive for the liberal gifts +which she had received at the hands of the Prince de Rohan.⁠<a id="FNanchor_263" href="#Footnote_263" class="fnanchor">[263]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span></p> + +<p>As the contest went on, the cardinal, according to Madame’s +version, got some further awkward thrusts which touched him to +the quick, and made him “look uneasy, and turn suddenly pale, +and complain of a violent headache,” which stayed the proceedings +for a time. When these were resumed, the countess thought it +necessary to object to what she styles some impropriety on the +part of the cardinal—he put some pertinent question which it was +not convenient for her to answer—whereupon a three hours’ +altercation ensued, during which the plethoric cardinal grew +“red as fire,” while madame, less excited “came off,” she tells us, +“with flying colours,” the judges bestowing upon her “smiles of +encouragement.” Thus ended the first day’s confrontation.</p> + +<p>The day following, the cardinal entered the hall quite chapfallen; +“instead of his former fierce and haughty demeanour, his eyes +appeared to ask pardon, and his countenance was sweet and engaging.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_264" href="#Footnote_264" class="fnanchor">[264]</a> +His “mildness” gave the countess “fresh spirits, and +increased her hopes,” but a scene of wrangling began immediately—each +accused the other of having had the Necklace, and of +knowing what had become of it. “At this moment,” remarks the +countess, “I was not mistress of my temper, and loaded them all +with reproaches,” which brought down upon her a severe reproof +from the judges, which did not, she confesses, “in the least tend +to abate her violence.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_265" href="#Footnote_265" class="fnanchor">[265]</a> The second day’s proceedings terminated, +therefore, in a greater tempest than the first had done.</p> + +<p>If we believe what Madame de la Motte says, the cardinal, as the +confrontations progressed, grew quite sentimental. Weak and +foolish to the extreme point of folly we know the grand almoner to +have been, still, now that the film was removed from his eyes, we +can hardly credit that he acted the old dotard’s part as the countess +would have us believe. “He blew me over kisses,” she says, “and +when he discovered my eyes turned aside upon any other object, +he played with his pencil to attract my notice.” At another time, +“he clasped his hands eagerly together, and lifting up his eyes to +heaven, ‘Ah!’ exclaimed he, ‘how unhappy we are!’ He even +shed tears.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_266" href="#Footnote_266" class="fnanchor">[266]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>On a subsequent occasion the countess pretends that when they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>were by themselves at one end of the hall the cardinal approached +her, took her by the hand, and led her to the fireplace, and that +while they were there standing in an attitude of the most friendly regard, +engaged in earnest conversation, she suddenly rang the bell, +which brought in De Launay, governor of the Bastille, and two of +his officers, who surprised them in the attitude above described. +“The lieutenant, De Losme,” she observes, “could scarce pardon me +to see me holding discourse with my executioner, ‘a person,’ said +he, with indignation, ‘that endeavours to prove you a thief;’” and +who did, indeed, in due course, not only prove her to be a thief, +but procured her a felon’s punishment.</p> + +<p>Although, according to her own account, these confrontations +opened so triumphantly for her, the countess at their close had +lost much of that confidence which her overweening vanity had +led her to feel, and tried hard to prolong the proceedings by +urging that application should be made to the king for permission +for her to send a letter to her husband, “to engage him to come +in person to confront and disprove this preconcerted system of +lying accusations which pretends that he has gone off with a part +of the necklace.” As if the count could not have come forward, +and done all this of his own accord, as he might possibly have +been tempted to do had he not entertained a wholesome fear of the +scourge and the branding-iron, and of being chained to the oar as +a galley slave for the rest of his life.</p> + +<p>Judging from the countess’s report of these confrontations, they +would seem to have been merely a series of wordy wranglings; it +is, however, quite certain that in the course of them many facts +damaging to her in the last degree were brought to light. Her +wretched poverty, up to the very moment when she touched the first +fifty thousand livres of the cardinal’s money, was proved beyond a +doubt, as well as the comparative affluence which she displayed +immediately afterwards. And the same with respect to the almost +Oriental style of luxury in which the De la Mottes commenced to live +immediately after the count had returned from England with the proceeds +arising from the sale of the diamonds to the jeweller Gray.</p> + +<p>The countess in her confrontation with Laporte—who had first +mentioned the Necklace to her, and had introduced her to the +crown jewellers—tried to wheedle him by such a shallow manœuvre +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>as thus addressing him: “I believe you to be an honest man, Monsieur +Laporte. Forget for a moment that you have made any deposition, +and distinctly answer my questions.” Laporte, however, stuck +to his text, and nothing favourable to the countess could be extracted +from him.⁠<a id="FNanchor_267" href="#Footnote_267" class="fnanchor">[267]</a> When she and the Baron de Planta, the cardinal’s equerry, +are brought face to face, he declines to swear black to be white, and +persists in saying that he had himself carried to her the two several +sums of fifty thousand livres and one hundred thousand livres, for +which she had applied to the cardinal in the queen’s name. “I swear +in the presence of justice, and on my honour and my head,” exclaimed +the indignant baron, “that I myself gave you these amounts from +the Cardinal de Rohan to be remitted to the queen;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_268" href="#Footnote_268" class="fnanchor">[268]</a> whereupon +madame pronounces him to be mad, and in proof of her assertion +recounts, with evident unction, the particulars of an attempted indelicate +assault upon her by the baron in the month of October, +1784.⁠<a id="FNanchor_269" href="#Footnote_269" class="fnanchor">[269]</a> Regnier, the goldsmith and jeweller who supplied the De +la Mottes with a service of plate, &c., and received diamonds in +discharge of his account, having given his version of his transactions +with the count and countess, the latter, following her usual +system of denial, contradicts Regnier point blank, whereupon he +exhibits the entries in his books made at the time. She then +admits everything, and asks herself, with seeming astonishment, +how it was possible in less than a year for her to have so far lost +her memory.⁠<a id="FNanchor_270" href="#Footnote_270" class="fnanchor">[270]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess, when confronted with Father Loth, loaded him +with a shower of reproaches. “You bad man,” exclaimed she, “it +is you who have led my husband astray; you have introduced him +to disreputable women. You have persuaded him to live on bad +terms with me. You have robbed me.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_271" href="#Footnote_271" class="fnanchor">[271]</a> Grenier, the goldsmith +and money-lender, had deposed that Madame de la Motte had +ordered of him two superb robes of Lyons silk, saying she intended +making a present of them to the queen; in reply to which he had +told her point blank that it was not likely she would dare to take +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>the liberty of making presents to her majesty. Whereupon the +countess remarked, that there was no such ceremony as he supposed +between relations! She had, moreover, told him that she +had reinstated the cardinal in the queen’s good graces, and that her +majesty dared refuse her nothing, and had also shown him a letter +which she said had been written to her by the queen, but which she +would not allow him to read.⁠<a id="FNanchor_272" href="#Footnote_272" class="fnanchor">[272]</a> When brought face to face with +Grenier, she exclaimed, “He has been in the Bastille for fifteen +days, and when he comes out his first act is to depose against me +out of revenge, because I once had him put outside my house, and +because it was in relation to me that he was imprisoned.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_273" href="#Footnote_273" class="fnanchor">[273]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>With regard to her confrontations with the Demoiselle d’Oliva, +the countess complains that questions were put to the latter in such +a form that she had only to answer yes or no. “I did not let this +escape me,” she remarks, “but desired Dupuis de Marcé, one of +the reporters of the case, appointed by the parliament, to suffer her +to speak, and not to be her mouthpiece. He turned red, was stung +with rage, and getting up like a demoniac, put an end to the sitting.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_274" href="#Footnote_274" class="fnanchor">[274]</a> +When it was resumed, and that portion of D’Oliva’s declaration +was read which spoke of the letters, purporting to have +been written by the queen, which the countess had shown her, +Madame de la Motte cannot conceal her agitation. She makes +signs to D’Oliva, winks her eyes at her, and finding that she takes +no notice, keeps repeating the action. When charged with this, +she replies in a furious tone of voice, “I make signs to you? Yes, +I make you a sign that you are a monster for having said such a +thing.” She then proceeds to charge D’Oliva with having behaved +immodestly when on a visit to her at Charonne, says she was guilty +of positive indecencies, that she was only a common courtezan, who +had been for some time her husband’s mistress, and who had +usurped a title to which she had no claim. She next enlarged +upon D’Oliva’s affairs generally, and spoke of her pecuniary embarrassments, +and of the real and supposed disappointments she had +experienced, with “audacity, arrogance, and fury;” for all of which +she was duly taken to task by D’Oliva’s counsel in a new edition of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>his client’s “Mémoire.” “Proud and vile woman,” the memorial +proceeds to say, “who caressed me when I could serve you, who +disdained me when I exposed you, who hate me when I confound +you, descend, descend from the supreme height of your genealogical +tree, from whence you brave the law, impose upon its administrators, +and insult by turns your unfortunate co-accused.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_275" href="#Footnote_275" class="fnanchor">[275]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>As for Cagliostro, on whom and on whose wife the countess had +tried her utmost to shift a portion of her own guilt—out of revenge, +we suppose, for the count having been the first to suggest to the +cardinal that she had tricked him in the Necklace business—he is +“this oracle who bewitched the cardinal’s understanding,” a low +alchemist, a false prophet and profaner of the true religion, a +mountebank and a vagabond. To which Cagliostro pertinently replied, +“Not always a false prophet, for had the Prince de Rohan +taken my advice he would have seen through the artifices of the +countess, and neither of us been where we are. To her numerous +calumnies I will content myself with making a laconic reply, +the same that was made by Pascal under parallel circumstances—a +reply which politeness forbids me to make in the vulgar tongue, +but which madame’s counsel will translate for her, <i>Mentiris impudentissime</i>.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_276" href="#Footnote_276" class="fnanchor">[276]</a> +The countess, not knowing the meaning of the +phrase, imagined, correctly enough, that it was something exceedingly +offensive, and to use her own language, “put an end to the +scene by throwing a candlestick at the quack’s head! Cagliostro, +enraged and foaming at the mouth, said to me, ‘He will come, thy +Villette! he will come! it is he that will speak!’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_277" href="#Footnote_277" class="fnanchor">[277]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Referring to her confrontation with Madame Dubarry, the +countess observes, “I cannot withstand the temptation of saying a +few words concerning the part assigned to the ‘queen dowager,’ +the immaculate Dubarry of monastic memory. She stated that I +had been at her house to solicit her protection, and that I had left +with her a memorial, signed ‘Marie-Antoinette de France.’ The +fact is, I only went to her house out of curiosity in a good coach +and four. Upon her signifying to me that she thought the branch +of Valois had been extinct, I gave her a memorial of my genealogy, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>signed ‘<i>Marie-Antoine</i> d’Hozier de Sérigny, Judge of the Nobility +of <i>France</i>.’ When confronted with me she assumed an air of +haughtiness and insolence, but I hastened to make her sensible of +the distance between her birth and mine.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_278" href="#Footnote_278" class="fnanchor">[278]</a> This wrangling between +such a pair of demireps must have been highly amusing to +all who chanced to be witnesses of it.</p> + +<p>The cardinal, alluding to the confrontations in one of his +memorials, says that Madame de la Motte generally either cried or +went into convulsions at them, and that with her, audacity, gaiety, +and tears succeeded each other by turns, according as she found +herself capable of sustaining a part, or felt herself forced to succumb +to feelings of remorse and fear.⁠<a id="FNanchor_279" href="#Footnote_279" class="fnanchor">[279]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>During Lent of 1786, while the public excitement with reference +to the Necklace trial was at its height, the Abbé Georgel, grand-vicar +to the cardinal, whose office of grand almoner gave him +spiritual jurisdiction over the royal chapel at Versailles, the +Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, and the Assumption, caused to be +printed and posted on the doors of the churches and sacristies +dependent on the grand almonry, a charge, wherein he quoted the +words of St. Paul to his disciple Timothy, exhorting him to blush +neither for his captivity nor for his bonds. Copies of this charge +were even posted in the royal chapel itself.</p> + +<p>The zeal of the Abbé Georgel here carried him a little too far. +The king and queen were deeply irritated, and the Baron de +Breteuil sent for the offender and spoke sharply to him on the +subject. Instead of expressing regret, the faithful grand-vicar, intoxicated +with the success he had already met with in thwarting +the enemies of the cardinal, his master, ventured to brave the +minister of justice, replying to his remonstrances with firmness, +and insisting on his right to exercise the powers which the cardinal +had delegated to him. The minister, taken aback at so much +assurance on the part of a mere abbé, required Georgel to furnish +him with an explanation in writing. This the grand-vicar did in +the following terms:</p> + +<p>“I had the honour to observe to you, sir, that monseigneur the +cardinal not being under the bonds of a legal decree, enjoyed, even +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>where he was, his rights as citizen, bishop, and grand almoner in +all their fulness; that a detention which had not been pronounced +by law did not take away from a prisoner the right to exercise his +civil and ecclesiastical functions; that such an interdiction could +be the consequence only of a decree of banishment or imprisonment; +that the grand-vicars of monseigneur the Cardinal de +Rohan, furnished with his powers, were legally authorized to +exercise in his name and under his orders their respective functions; +and that our legal code was precise on the application of +these principles.</p> + +<p>“You then tell me, sir, to send you all these details in writing. +I obey the minister of the king, and shall await with the profoundest +respect the orders of his majesty respecting the conduct which +I ought to show in my quality of grand-vicar.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_280" href="#Footnote_280" class="fnanchor">[280]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>This was another false step on the abbé’s part, for the minister +retaliated by a <i>lettre-de-cachet</i>, and the only order the grand-vicar +received from his majesty was a command, dated March 10, 1786, +to depart from Paris within four-and-twenty hours for Mortagne in +Brittany. Thus at a most critical point in the proceedings instituted +against him was the cardinal suddenly deprived of the services +of his able and energetic grand-vicar.</p> + +<p>On the 26th of March, owing to the exertions of Counsellor +D’Epréménil, who pressed her case on the attention of the parliament, +the Countess de Cagliostro succeeded in regaining her liberty +after upwards of seven months’ confinement in the Bastille; and +about this time the women of Paris, who were great partisans of +the cardinal’s during the entire period of his imprisonment, took +to wearing in their toilettes a combination of scarlet and straw-colour +ribbons, jocularly entitled “cardinal on the straw”—meaning +the cardinal in prison. Grand dames of fashion, too, at the Easter +promenade of Longchamp, came out in straw bonnets with scarlet +crowns, and trimmed with scarlet ribbon, which Mademoiselle +Bertin, the queen’s milliner—at this moment out of favour at +court—had introduced under the name of <i>chapeaux au Cardinal</i>.⁠<a id="FNanchor_281" href="#Footnote_281" class="fnanchor">[281]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXI">XXXI.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786. April–May.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">ARREST OF THE FORGER VILLETTE—HIS EXAMINATIONS AND +CONFRONTATIONS.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>It is now that Rétaux de Villette is unearthed with the Abbé +Georgel’s sleuth-hounds in full cry. Tracked from town to town, +and from village to village, he is at length run down at Geneva, +having, says one account, since the news of the Necklace affair, +crossed the Swiss frontier, assumed various disguises, and turning +his musical talents to account, acted the part of a vagrant musician, +playing on his mandoline along the streets and highways to amuse +the passers-by. One version of his capture represents him as having +been trepanned in some low Geneva tavern, whilst overcome by +drink, into enlisting in some phantom regiment, by which adroit +manœuvre he was enticed from off the “sacred republican soil,” +and carried away to Paris in triumph.⁠<a id="FNanchor_282" href="#Footnote_282" class="fnanchor">[282]</a> Another version affirms +that he had got mixed up in a local brawl at the time the abbé’s +emissaries pounced upon him, which is likely to be the truer +statement of the two, as it is corroborated by his own account of +his arrest. “A disturbance,” he says, “probably brought about by +design, arose in the public streets between two Geneva watchmakers. +A Frenchman, witness of the affair, interposed as peace-maker; +whereupon he was seized, together with the two disputants. ‘Where +do you come from?’ was asked of him. ‘From Lyons.’ ‘Ah! +there has been a great robbery recently committed there. What +brought you to Geneva?’ ‘Nothing.’ ‘What is your name?’ +‘Rétaux de Villette.’ ‘To prison with him!’ A few days afterwards +an inspector of police arrived from Paris, and carried off the +prisoner to the Bastille.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_283" href="#Footnote_283" class="fnanchor">[283]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span></p> + +<p>This must have been about the commencement of April, and no +sooner did Villette find himself within the grip of the French police +for the second time than he became quite chapfallen. On the road +to Paris he was low-spirited to a degree, constantly speaking of +himself as a lost man, as a victim about to be sacrificed. His distress, +he tells us, was “aggravated by the jokes of the officers, in which +they appeared to take a malicious pleasure.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_284" href="#Footnote_284" class="fnanchor">[284]</a> Now and then when +cheered with wine he would chat confidentially with police-inspector +Quidor concerning his <i>liaisons</i> with Madame de la Motte, and would +let fall scraps of information respecting the “<i>belle demoiselle</i>” of +the Palais Royal, the part she played at the midnight meeting at +Versailles, and the influence which the countess exercised over the +Prince de Rohan; but with regard to everything that related to +the Necklace, and the <i>billets-doux</i>—“gilt edged,” or bordered with +“vignettes bleues,”—and the forged signature to the contract with +the jewellers, he preserved a discreet silence.</p> + +<p>When housed within the gloomy walls of the Bastille he became +slightly, but only slightly, more communicative. He railed at his +former mistress for having been the cause of his ruin; described +how he came to Paris to obtain a situation in the marshalsea, when, +unfortunately for him, he fell into the snares of the siren, who, by +pretending to have influence in high quarters, won his confidence, +and by promising to do something better for him than his modest +expectations led him to hope for, induced him to relinquish all idea +of the post he was on the point of securing. Being frequently at +her house, the countess employed him in drawing up and copying +memorials setting forth the claims of the house of Valois, and asking +sometimes for restitution, and at others for pecuniary assistance; +also memorials on behalf of individuals in whom Madame de la +Motte took an interest, addressed either to the ministers, or to +persons in high official positions, from whom places were solicited +for the applicants.</p> + +<p>At his first examination Villette confessed absolutely nothing +but what he was well aware was already known beyond the possibility +of doubt. For instance, he admitted that he was acquainted +with Mademoiselle d’Oliva, and that he accompanied the count and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>her to Versailles on a particular day, in the evening of which she was +dressed out, and went with the countess to the park, where he and the +count also proceeded. In substance he admitted the acting of the +part of the queen by D’Oliva, who left the park with him and the +count—the countess going off with the Cardinal de Rohan and the +Baron de Planta. Villette scrupulously avoided everything like an +admission of having written any letters for the countess. He +denied having written a letter for D’Oliva to give to the cardinal, +or one for the countess to read to D’Oliva as though it were from +the queen. He believed D’Oliva was paid for the part she acted, +but did not know the amount; he himself carried her three hundred +livres on one occasion. When questioned respecting the Necklace, +he replied that he knew absolutely nothing about it, nor of the +negotiation for its purchase, nor of the letters said to have passed +between the cardinal and the queen relative to this purchase. He +confessed he was very frequently at Versailles, but could not tell +whether he was there on the particular day the Necklace is said to +have been delivered. At any rate he knew nothing of the circumstances +connected with its delivery, was not the bearer of any letter +respecting it, and certainly did not write any such letter. Was not +aware of the Necklace being taken to pieces, though he admitted having +had some diamonds given to him to sell. Did not know the object +of the count’s journey to London; was not aware that he sold any +diamonds there, or that he returned to Paris with letters of credit +for a considerable amount. He admitted having assumed the name of +Augeard, but only as a disguise for carrying on intrigues with women.</p> + +<p>Villette of course utterly denied all knowledge of the signature +to the contract, but when asked if he thought the cardinal was +able to discern whether the signature was genuine, he replied, that +for his own part, without possessing the intelligence of the cardinal, +had he been in his place he would not have been duped. +During the time he was in familiar intercourse with the De la +Mottes they appeared, he said, to live like persons of means, but +he knew nothing of their sources of income. With respect to +their opulence, although he had witnessed it, he had never shared +it, save as a hanger-on—a guest who always had a seat at their +table. With regard to the De la Mottes’ motive for leaving +Paris in August last, he understood from madame that her circumstances +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>were embarrassed. He admitted having received four +thousand livres from madame, but only as a loan to enable him to +visit Italy, where he had long desired to go; and confessed to +having slept part of the night in a cabriolet in the courtyard of +the De la Motte hôtel ere setting forth on his journey early on the +following morning. Finally he stated that he had had no correspondence +with the De la Mottes subsequent to his departure.⁠<a id="FNanchor_285" href="#Footnote_285" class="fnanchor">[285]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Less than a month’s reflection in the Bastille seems to have +sharpened Rétaux de Villette’s memory on several essential points, +for he writes a letter to the Count de Vergennes, in which he confesses +everything except the receipt of the casket containing the +Necklace; this he persisted in denying to the last. In consequence +of this letter he is again brought up for examination, when, the +contract being produced and shown to him, he admits the words +“approuvé” and the signature to have been written by himself +alone, not in imitation, however, of the queen’s handwriting, but +in his own ordinary hand.⁠<a id="FNanchor_286" href="#Footnote_286" class="fnanchor">[286]</a> It was done, he said, at the request of +Madame de la Motte, and on her assurance that it was to oblige the +cardinal. He also confessed to having written, at the countess’s dictation, +all the <i>billets-doux</i>—gilt-edged, or bordered with <i>vignettes bleues</i>—which +purported to have been addressed by the queen to the Prince +de Rohan, and two letters in particular, in which the queen charged +Madame de la Motte to ask the cardinal, in her name, first of all for +sixty (fifty) thousand livres, and secondly for one hundred thousand +livres, for an immediate payment the queen had to make.⁠<a id="FNanchor_287" href="#Footnote_287" class="fnanchor">[287]</a> Villette +positively denied having been the bearer of a billet purporting to have +been written by the queen on the evening of the 2nd of February, +and of receiving the casket containing the Necklace, and he complacently +referred to the striking difference that existed between +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>the individual indicated by the Cardinal de Rohan and himself. +The former, he remarked, had big black eyebrows, a pale thin face, +and slender figure; whereas his eyebrows were light, his face full +and somewhat rubicund, and his figure inclined to be portly. +With regard to the Necklace, he knew that it had been broken +up, and that the diamonds intrusted to him to sell formed part of +it, but he denied having had any of the diamonds given to him, +or of having received money from Madame de la Motte for appending +the forged signature to the contract. “It is true she has lent +me money,” observed he, “and I have kept a note of it, but +whenever I have spoken to madame on the subject she has always +been polite enough to say that she did not wish the matter mentioned.” +Finally, he expressed his firm belief that Cagliostro was +entirely innocent of any complicity in the affair.⁠<a id="FNanchor_288" href="#Footnote_288" class="fnanchor">[288]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess now undergoes a second examination at which she +denies that Villette wrote any letters to the cardinal in the name +of the queen. Having had time to reflect upon the weight of +evidence against her, she now admits the truth of the statement +with respect to the meeting between the cardinal and D’Oliva in +the park of Versailles, but pretends the affair was a mere pleasantry +got up to quiet the restless cardinal. She still denied that +she had applied to him for the several sums of fifty thousand and +one hundred thousand livres, and maintained that she had never +received these amounts. Denied, moreover, having ever seen the +contract with the jewellers, and having got Villette to sign the +same. When told that Villette had confessed, she simply replied +that she could not conceive his motive for stating the signature to +be his; said she first knew of the signature being forged when the +cardinal showed her part of a note written by the queen. Next +day, after having again reflected, we find her adhering to her +text, and contenting herself with remarking that Villette had been +overpersuaded to say that he signed the document, and by her +orders.</p> + +<p>At Rétaux de Villette’s first confrontation with the countess, +after making the damaging admissions which he had done, he +seems to have given way to feelings of remorse at having betrayed, +as he says, “a woman whom I loved to adoration, and who had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>loaded me with benefits.” He declared that De Launay, Dupuis +de Marcé, Fremyn, the Count de Vergennes, and others, had +forced him to assert, with the view of saving himself, that the +countess alone had instigated him to write the false signature of the +queen so as to cheat the cardinal, whereupon the sitting was immediately +broken up without giving him time to finish what he was +about to say.⁠<a id="FNanchor_289" href="#Footnote_289" class="fnanchor">[289]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>When confronted, however, with Madame de la Motte on a subsequent +occasion, he tries his hardest, though in vain, to induce her +to speak the truth. He told her that her denials could be no longer +accepted as proofs while he, the principal agent, and other +witnesses were giving her the lie. “You will not see,” he continued, +“that everybody accuses you, and that your voice necessarily +loses its power. It is useless to deny that the cardinal, you, +and I are culpable in this affair. You seek to destroy the avowal +which I make of my own guilt. You say that I lie when I accuse +myself of forgery. You ruin yourself in acting thus, and evidently +do not understand your own interests.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_290" href="#Footnote_290" class="fnanchor">[290]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Madame, however, conceived that she did, and was prepared +with her rejoinder, which she made with all the tact and vehemence +of the professional advocate. “The observations,” remarked +she, “that M. Villette has made are only made to frighten me. I +fear nothing, and am perfectly calm. To all his remarks I persist +in replying that I neither urged him to write the signature nor the +‘<i>approuvés</i>,’ nor any other similar writing purporting to come from +the queen. If M. Villette is good enough to say that he has +written the signature and the ‘<i>approuvés</i>,’ it is owing to the fear +with which he has been inspired on being told that his ordinary +handwriting bore so striking a resemblance to the signature appended +to the document, and that he would be certain to be condemned, +by reason of this resemblance alone, to corporal punishment. He +has been told that if he confessed to this, his punishment would +be materially lightened. This is what has caused him to make the +confession, which I maintain is false.... I repeat that I am in +nowise guilty. I await with calmness the punishment that may be +awarded me, and I ask no grace.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span></p> + +<p>“With regard to M. le Cardinal, whom M. Villette has just said +he believed to be as guilty as we two, I shall not charge myself +with his defence, nor with that of any other person, not knowing +whether he is guilty or no. If I were in possession of any secret +that would tell against the cardinal in the Necklace affair I should +not hide it, because for a long time past he has caused me much +suffering. As for myself, I again say that I have no confession to +make, as M. Villette pretends I have, for I am not guilty, and I +am persuaded that he is no more guilty than myself. If I were +guilty I would make a confession, in the hope that my punishment +would be less grave. As it is, I could only make a false confession; +and although M. Villette tells me that every proof has been obtained +against me, and that I have only my bare assertions to +oppose to these, I repeat again that I leave my judges at liberty to +find me guilty, still asserting that I am innocent and free from +crime.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_291" href="#Footnote_291" class="fnanchor">[291]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>With this smart peroration of madame’s the confrontations were +brought to a close, and the accused were remanded back to their +several quarters in the gloomy old fortress to await the next step +which the law would in due course take. The revelations of +D’Oliva, and more particularly those of Villette, by utterly changing +the aspect of things, had sadly weakened the countess’s confidence +in her line of defence, and the hold which she believed she +had on the sympathy of the public. To retain so much of the +latter as was possible, she published a third memorial, or summary, +as it was called—her second was simply a rejoinder to Cagliostro—made +up, as was her custom, of an artful combination of ingenious +fallacies well calculated to perplex, if not to delude, the understanding.</p> + +<p>M. Feuillet de Conches has, among his collection of autographs, +an extensive MS. in the countess’s handwriting, consisting of her +observations upon the various “Mémoires” issued on behalf of her +co-accused, and of reports of what passed at her own examinations +and confrontations. This was evidently prepared for the use of +her advocate, M. Doillot, who drew up her memorials from materials +she supplied him with, and whom it is quite certain, from the evidence +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>furnished by this MS., Madame de la Motte did not scruple +to attempt to deceive, just as she tried to deceive her judges, and, +indeed, every one else with whom she came in contact.⁠<a id="FNanchor_292" href="#Footnote_292" class="fnanchor">[292]</a>⁠</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Her foot on earth, her forehead in the skies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Things done relates, not done she feigns,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And mingles truth with lies.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>In neither of the countess’s memorials does she seek in any way +to implicate Marie-Antoinette, nor make the least claim to that intimacy +with royalty which she subsequently maintained in her +“Mémoires Justificatifs” with such wanton audacity, and again in +her “Life, written by herself,” but lays everything to the charge +of the cardinal, fascinated, deluded, and overruled by Cagliostro. +As a type of the depravity of the human heart when no moral laws +restrain its licence, a book more astounding and impudent than +“The Life of Jeanne de St. Remi de Valois, Countess de la +Motte,”—from which, in the course of our narrative, we have extracted +everything of the least importance wearing an air of truth—was, +perhaps, never written.</p> + +<p>New memorials, however, were of no use now. Her game, which +had been most audaciously played, was played out. People of +every class turned against her. The queen and the cardinal were +no longer victims to that prejudiced and hastily-formed opinion +which, without waiting for the pleadings of the lawyers or the verdict +of a jury, passes sentence beforehand. Alone and apart from +even her fellow-prisoners, this powerful impostor stood detected as +the liar, the swindler, the thief, the contriver of the plot, the +single and crafty director of a complicated fraud. And the man +who was the first to betray her, and “whose villany and diabolical +machinations,” to quote the countess’s own words, had caused all +this to come to light, had been one of her familiars—friends she +could hardly be said to have had—a constant hanger-on at her +house, an almost daily guest at her table, “who, by way of rendering +himself necessary,” says the countess, “pretended that, as my +husband and I were young people, it was requisite we should have +some trusty person to superintend our domestics. He superintended, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>and had the disposal of everything in the house, and when +I went into the country he had all the keys, and the care of paying +my servants.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_293" href="#Footnote_293" class="fnanchor">[293]</a> Recalling all this to mind in her “Life,” the +countess heaps on Father Loth some of her choicest expletives—“serpent” +and “viper” being the most favourite. He is, for instance, +“the serpent that stung me to the heart;” “the serpent +that darted his envenomed sting against me;” “the dangerous +viper that stung the bosom that cherished it;” “this disgrace to +human nature;” “this iniquitous monk, who embezzled my money +and my watch;” “this perjured and malignant monk;” “this +solitary savage;” “this dexterous hypocrite;” “this hypocritical, +this notorious villain;” “this monster,” “this profligate and +abandoned wretch;” “this wretch who has violated every moral +obligation.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_294" href="#Footnote_294" class="fnanchor">[294]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess’s confederates had confessed themselves guilty, but +there was this excuse for them—they were merely her tools and +instruments. Villette, in his time of tribulation, might well protest +that he was not that great friend and confidant of Madame de +la Motte which he was represented to be, for, said he, “<i>she had no +friends, and her confidence never was bestowed absolutely on any one</i>.” +She merely instructed her instruments in what was necessary to +the parts they had to perform, and kept the secret of the combinations +entirely to herself.⁠<a id="FNanchor_295" href="#Footnote_295" class="fnanchor">[295]</a> D’Oliva had captivated the public +by her ingenuous explanation of a stratagem which, it was evident +to every one, she had had no share in conceiving or conducting to +its issue, although she had taken a part in it. And as to the +forger Villette, he had rendered so great a service to the law by his +complete exposure of the crime which had been committed, and had +so disarmed resentment by his apparent contrition, as to call forth +towards himself a kind of latent pity, in which contempt and disgust +were to some extent mingled.</p> + +<p>With regard to the countess, nothing seemed capable of subduing +the wanton energy of this bold bad spirit. Confronted +alternately with the cardinal, with the girl D’Oliva, with Cagliostro, +and with Rétaux de Villette, besides several minor witnesses, she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>stood, as we have seen, face to face with them, unabashed against +them all. At first she denied everything; accused them of the +very crimes she had herself committed; charged them with inventing, +conducting, and executing the fraud from first to last; even +swore that her two chief confederates, standing there as witnesses +against her, had been suborned by the relations of the cardinal, +and had formed a conspiracy to shift their own dishonour upon +her. She told her judges to remember that she was a Valois, descended +from the princes who had formerly reigned over them. +Perching herself on this imaginary pedestal, she seemed to forget +that she was a prisoner on her trial before the country, and +thundered her denunciations against her fellow-prisoners in the +loudest key, every eye shrinking and quailing beneath her own. +Her judges were for the moment amazed and overawed by an +assurance which far surpassed anything hitherto seen in a court of +justice, whilst the cardinal respectfully styled her “madame” whenever +he addressed her.</p> + +<p>Every time she was called upon to explain some circumstance +with reference to which the statements of the rest of the accused +tallied and directly contradicted her own assertions, those present +glanced at one another expecting that she would be mute at last, +and yield to the weight of evidence against her. But no; her +fertile invention, like that of Napoleon at Marengo, supplied her at +a moment’s warning with some new combination. When asked to +explain the source whence she had derived the means of supporting +her extravagant expenditure during her twelve months of display, +she replied that she had met with princely benefactors. The +Cardinal de Rohan had alone given her 203,720 livres. Observing +the looks of incredulity with which this statement was received, to +account for the cardinal’s unheard-of liberality, she explained to +her judges that relations of a very tender nature existed between +her and the grand almoner.⁠<a id="FNanchor_296" href="#Footnote_296" class="fnanchor">[296]</a> She asserted, moreover, that she +had got up the scene with D’Oliva in the park of Versailles to revenge +herself upon the cardinal for an infidelity of which he had +been guilty.⁠<a id="FNanchor_297" href="#Footnote_297" class="fnanchor">[297]</a> Among her other “princely benefactors” she +enumerated Madame, the Countess de Provence, who, she stated, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>had given her 13,200 livres, while the Duke d’Orléans had given +her 12,000 livres, the Duke and Duchess de Chartres 26,000, the +Duke de Choiseul 12,000, the Duke de Penthièvre 8,400, M. de +Castries 3,000, and the contrôleur-général 6,000. All these statements +were of course false. For instance, the Countess de Provence +had only given her twelve or fifteen louis, and this immediately +after the fainting scene, we imagine; the contrôleur-général +had given her about fifty louis; and M. de Castries eight hundred, +instead of three thousand livres. M. d’Ormesson, whose name +she does not mention, said he had sent her a few louis <i>by the +hands of the police</i>; while, as regards the eight thousand four +hundred livres which she pretended she had received from the +Duke de Penthièvre, the chief of his council, the Abbé de Noir, +who happened to be present, rose up and indignantly declared the +countess’s assertion to be false.⁠<a id="FNanchor_298" href="#Footnote_298" class="fnanchor">[298]</a> Being asked to explain what she +had done with the 150,000 livres extorted from the Cardinal de +Rohan in August and October, 1784, in the queen’s name, Madame +de la Motte calmly smiled, and with a look of offended dignity and +wounded innocence, vowed that she had never so much as seen the +money.</p> + +<p>As each damaging fact came to light the countess did not content +herself with launching tirades of abuse merely against the +witnesses, “who swore,” she tells us, “precisely what the cardinal’s +advocates pleased to put into their mouths.” According to her +own admissions, she on more than one occasion abused her judges +to their faces,⁠<a id="FNanchor_299" href="#Footnote_299" class="fnanchor">[299]</a> while behind their backs she heaped upon them +every variety of vituperative epithet. Commissary Chénon was +“a wretch and a cunning dissembler;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_300" href="#Footnote_300" class="fnanchor">[300]</a> Fremyn was her “inveterate +enemy;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_301" href="#Footnote_301" class="fnanchor">[301]</a> Dupuis de Marcé was “bought over,” was a +“creature of the house of Rohan,” was “a monster,” “a sly and +venomous serpent,” “a perfidious miscreant,” and “prevaricated +to a scandalous excess.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_302" href="#Footnote_302" class="fnanchor">[302]</a> Both he and Fremyn were “dissemblers,” +both “would convict the innocent rather than hear the truth;” +“every ray of evidence which would have made in my favour was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>refracted and broken by the medium through which it passed;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_303" href="#Footnote_303" class="fnanchor">[303]</a> both +had “the villany to alter and interpolate the records.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_304" href="#Footnote_304" class="fnanchor">[304]</a> She further +accused the deputy procureur-général and the judges of having +“caballed against her;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_305" href="#Footnote_305" class="fnanchor">[305]</a> maintained that even the registrar, Le +Breton, was “in the cardinal’s interest.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_306" href="#Footnote_306" class="fnanchor">[306]</a> So, too, was the +governor of the Bastille, rigorous old De Launay, to whom she +moreover applies the epithet of “this perfidious governor.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_307" href="#Footnote_307" class="fnanchor">[307]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>While these examinations were proceeding, and when it was +perfectly well known that Count de la Motte was residing in +security on the other side of the Channel, an abundance of legal +formalities were gone through to ensure his arrest, had he only +happened to have been within the jurisdiction of the Paris Parliament. +For instance, on the 15th of December, 1785, a writ of +capture of the count’s body was decreed, and on the 15th of the +following January, Regnault, “huissier of our said court,” was despatched +to Bar-sur-Aube to execute the writ in question. On the +13th of February it was ordered that the said Marc-Antoine-Nicolas +de la Motte should be summoned that day se’nnight by +public proclamation, to have law and justice done upon him, which +summoning accordingly took place in the town of Bar-sur-Aube, +and subsequently at Paris, “by Simonin, sole sworn crier of the +king, provost and viscount of Paris, and huissier of the Châtelet +of Paris, accompanied by Regnault, huissier of our said court.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_308" href="#Footnote_308" class="fnanchor">[308]</a> +Count de la Motte, however, failed to put in an appearance at +either place.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXII">XXXII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786. May 29, 30.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE CONCIERGERIE.—BEFORE THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT, GRAND +CHAMBER, AND “TOURNELLE.”</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>At eight o’clock on the night of the 29th of May, 1786, while the +countess was quietly seated at supper, the gaoler of the Bastille +burst into her room with the disagreeable intelligence that her +business, “which looked a devilish bad affair indeed, was likely to +be terminated <i>à la grève</i>” (that is, by the gallows). “Hold you in +readiness at eleven o’clock,” said he, “for they will begin with you.” +At eleven, accordingly, she was conducted to the council hall, where, +after being searched by the <i>huissiers de la chaîne</i>, she was taken in +a coach to the Conciergerie, that grim, grey stone building, at the +river’s brink, on the Ile de la Cité, whose time-worn, massive, conical-capped +round towers frown disdainfully upon the crowd of handsome +modern buildings around,—the one unrestored specimen of +mediæval architecture of the least importance in all Paris.⁠<a id="FNanchor_309" href="#Footnote_309" class="fnanchor">[309]</a> To this +same dismal prison some six years subsequently, Marie-Antoinette +herself was sent, quitting it only when she went forth to die upon +the scaffold.</p> + +<p>“Released from the Bastille,” says Madame de la Motte, “Paris +appeared to me superb, but our journey seemed extremely short. +It was near midnight. All the front yard before the court of the +Palais de Justice was illuminated, as well as the court itself; it was +as light as day. The palace was amazingly crowded; all the guard +were under arms. An officer came to give me his arm to alight +from the carriage. I was conducted to a large hall, which they call +the <i>greffe</i>, whither I was attended by four or five hundred persons. +All the passages, the tables, every place was crowded.... I +listened with pleasure to a profusion of civil things that were said +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>to me by the surrounding multitude, many of whom expressed very +warm and sincere wishes for my success, and seemed much pleased +at the manner in which I returned their civilities. About two +o’clock, finding myself fatigued, I expressed a desire to take some +rest; and after paying my respects to this numerous company, the +keeper’s wife conducted me to the apartment prepared for my reception.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_310" href="#Footnote_310" class="fnanchor">[310]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>At six o’clock the Parliament, both Grand Chamber and Tournelle,⁠<a id="FNanchor_311" href="#Footnote_311" class="fnanchor">[311]</a> +began to assemble. The princes and princesses of the house +of Condé, allied to that of the cardinal, and of the houses of Rohan, +Soubise and Guéménée, had gone into mourning, and thus significantly +attired, placed themselves in a line in the corridor along +which the councillors of the Grand Chamber had to pass, so that +they might salute them as they entered the hall.⁠<a id="FNanchor_312" href="#Footnote_312" class="fnanchor">[312]</a> When they +arrived, Madame de Marsan, pointing to the cardinal’s assembled +relatives, said to the councillors—“Gentlemen, you are about to +judge the whole of us.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_313" href="#Footnote_313" class="fnanchor">[313]</a> Upwards of sixty judges took their seats. +The sittings were long and numerous, as it was necessary to read +over the reports of the previous proceedings. A master of requests, +a friend of the cardinal’s, took notes of all that the judges said while +this was going on, and passed them to the cardinal’s counsel, who +found means of communicating with the prisoner, and of advising +him as to the course he should pursue when under examination. +The counsellor d’Epréménil too, a warm partisan of the grand +almoner’s, likewise apprised his friends of many particulars which +it was important for them to be acquainted with.⁠<a id="FNanchor_314" href="#Footnote_314" class="fnanchor">[314]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess was in readiness, in the event of being summoned, +by about half-past six o’clock. “It has been said,” remarks she, +“that I was tricked out and dressed; but the truth is, I had plain +cambric linen, a cambric cloak, and for a bonnet a half-undress +gauze, without ribbons, and was even without powder in my hair. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>The gauze cap which I wore on my head very little squared with +the ridiculous assertion that I was dressed. They began with poor +Oliva,⁠<a id="FNanchor_315" href="#Footnote_315" class="fnanchor">[315]</a> who was delayed with her child. [She had given birth to +an infant since her arrest.] The keeper’s wife, to whom I expressed +a desire to see her, brought her to my chamber, which was very +near. I consoled the mother, but I gently reproved her for the +wrongs she had done me in following so blindly the advice of her +advocates relative to the supposed letter of the queen which she said +I had shown her.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_316" href="#Footnote_316" class="fnanchor">[316]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess is mistaken in supposing that D’Oliva was the first +to be interrogated. It was Villette who had that honour. He +entered the hall and took his place on the <i>sellette</i> with “his eyes +bathed in tears,” and during his examination showed more good +faith and repentance than he had heretofore done, avowing all his +crimes without the slightest reserve. It was remarked, however, +that for the first time he seemed anxious to accuse the cardinal, +whom he had previously sought to shield, by maintaining that he +had been the dupe of the falsehoods and intrigues of Madame de la +Motte. Villette’s examination was soon over, and between ten and +eleven o’clock the keeper of the Conciergerie and his son conducted +the countess up “the little staircase,” which all criminals were +obliged to ascend. Fremyn, “the dissembler,” then came forward +and took her hand, and led her to the hall where the judges were +assembled. In this well-known apartment of the ancient Palais de +Justice, where in the early days of the French monarchy the kings +of the Capetian race were accustomed to keep their court, the +Grand Chamber of the Paris Parliament had held its sittings for +upwards of a century; and here it was that, under the presidency +of the king, the famous <i>lits de justice</i> were likewise held. At the +present day the Court of Cassation, the supreme court of appeal in +France in matters criminal as well as civil, holds its “solemn +audiences” in this celebrated chamber, the interior of which, in +this renovating age, has not a single trace of its ancient mediæval +character remaining to it.⁠<a id="FNanchor_317" href="#Footnote_317" class="fnanchor">[317]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span></p> + +<p>“The appearance of the hall, crowded as it was in every part, +was to me,” remarks Madame de la Motte, “a most tremendous +sight; it was an awful, an alarming crisis. It is here that, accused +without guilt, I was tried without justice, and condemned without +proof, the accusation against me being supported on the narrow +foundation of false testimony, apparent even to my very judges as +contradictory and replete with absurdity. Too soon I understood +the ambiguous meaning of my counsel, who, in attempting to prepare +me for the occasion, had spoken to me of the ‘<i>sellette</i>.’ I +heard a number of voices tending to encourage me, and striving to +inspire me with confidence. ‘Must I then occupy this seat?’ exclaimed +I; ‘must I be forced into this <i>sellette</i>, formed only for the +reception of the guilty?’ Agitated by the most heartrending sensations, +I remained a long time in a most dreadful situation, my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>knees knocking together, and my whole frame trembling with +agitation, and feeling myself unable to articulate a single syllable. +At length, but I scarce know how, I found myself seated, overwhelmed +with shame at finding myself surrounded by such a +number of judges, by such a crowd of spectators.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_318" href="#Footnote_318" class="fnanchor">[318]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Such is the account which the countess herself gives of this +incident. A contemporary record of the proceedings states, however, +that she seated herself in the <i>sellette</i> with an impudent air, +which she maintained throughout the two hours she was under +examination, and indeed until she quitted this seat of shame.⁠<a id="FNanchor_319" href="#Footnote_319" class="fnanchor">[319]</a> +After she was seated she heard, she says, “a general cry, which +was re-echoed throughout the hall: ‘Proceed, proceed, madame; +take courage!’ This encouragement, from so many of my judges, +supported my sinking spirits; their looks animated me, and by +degrees I was in a condition to answer them with that <i>consistency +of truth and energetic fortitude which innocence alone inspires</i>.</p> + +<p>“So great was the malice of Fremyn against me that he could +not help exhibiting, even in the very face of my judges, a degree +of rudeness and indelicacy which, upon such an occasion, in such a +situation, but ill became him. This man came up to me rudely +and desired me to take off my hood. I looked at him very attentively, +and said, ‘Even before this august assembly you prove at +this very moment how much you are my enemy.’ The assembly +applauded what I said, and remonstrated with an air of disapprobation, +‘Oh! why do you so? Let the lady wear her calash.’</p> + +<p>“The chief president, M. d’Aligre, now read to me my first +interrogatory, which was expressed in so very few words that my +judges could not determine from my reply whether I was innocent +or not. ‘I should wish,’ I remarked, ‘that my judges would +interrogate me upon those points which have relation to the +Necklace; to these I am particularly anxious to reply, that I may +have an opportunity of demonstrating what I have already advanced, +what I have above a hundred times repeated, and what I +have never swerved from.’ The judges all exclaimed that I was +right, and were unanimously agreed to make some additions to +the first interrogatory, which did not mention a syllable of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>leading point of accusation—the Diamond Necklace. ‘The +cardinal has stated,’ said they, ‘that he brought the Necklace himself +to your house at Versailles, and that he waited in an alcove +till the arrival of a person who was to fetch it on the part of the +queen; that you insinuate it was one of her majesty’s pages; that +this man, as described by the cardinal, is very dark, has large +black eyebrows, thin and tall, with large black eyes, his figure +extremely slender. The cardinal observes also, that the alcove +was about half open.’</p> + +<p>“‘Absurdities like these, gentlemen,’ rejoined I, ‘raise my +indignation, and I am convinced they will have a similar effect +upon you.’ I then pointed out the contradictions in the cardinal’s +assertions, explaining how, when he saw M. Villette at the confrontation, +he immediately said that he recollected his profile, and +that he was the very same person to whom I gave the Necklace; +M. Villette being, in every respect, diametrically the reverse of the +cardinal’s description. I called the particular attention of my +judges to this circumstance, as it showed them the kind of reliance +they could place on the remainder of the cardinal’s allegations. +‘Even if there did come a man, as the cardinal pretends,’ I went +on to say, ‘does it wear a semblance of propriety, that if he +brought a letter or note written to me, the cardinal should act upon +that, even although the note should say the bearer was to be trusted +with the jewels in question? Now the cardinal ought not to have +returned me this note, which would then have become a receipt +for him; both this note and the other, which mentions the receipt +of the jewel, saying, “it is superb,” and which MM. St. James, +Bassenge, and Böhmer, all depose to having seen in the cardinal’s +hands. I request him to bring these letters before my judges, as +well as two hundred others which he has read to me, and told me +that they all came from the queen; and ask that he should be called +upon to declare whether these letters were written by M. Villette. +I hope you will emphatically insist that the cardinal shall produce +them to the court, to be compared with that same <i>approuvé</i> of the +contract with the jewellers, which Villette himself confesses to have +written. If my judges will take the trouble to examine these, I +dare affirm that they will find letters in three different hands, but +not a single one in the hand of M. Villette.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span></p> + +<p>“‘Messieurs St. James and Böhmer have deposed that they +have read a letter in the hands of the cardinal upon the terrace at +Versailles, containing this expression: “I am perfectly contented +with the jewel; it is superb,” &c. These persons have further +deposed that the cardinal at the same time informed them that +this letter came from the queen; and I, for my part, gentlemen, +repeat what I have previously deposed,⁠<a id="FNanchor_320" href="#Footnote_320" class="fnanchor">[320]</a> and do now positively +affirm and most solemnly declare, that I have also seen—that I +have also myself read that letter.’</p> + +<p>“The president then asked me if I really believed that letter +came from the queen as well as the two hundred other letters +which the cardinal showed me. I replied, that ‘the cardinal had +given me his confidence and trusted me with his secrets. During +the whole time I was so intrusted, he told me that he had seen the +queen, and received letters from her;’ which was all I could, consistent +with delicacy and propriety, permit myself to say.</p> + +<p>“I had scarce uttered these words, when four abbés all rose up +at once, though at some distance from each other, and began their +speeches together. Nothing was to be heard but the hoarse +jargon of contention. At length the discord abated, and the three +gave way to the first; but as his question was of no consequence, +I did not condescend to make any reply. At this, many persons +present significantly shrugged their shoulders. The second and +third were of a piece with the first; the fourth, as having more +pretension to wit, I thought it necessary to reply to. This was the +Abbé Sabattier, whose stentorian voice almost shook the foundations +of the hall. ‘The countess,’ said he, ‘pretends that she has +not interfered in any way concerning the sale of the Necklace. +Why, then, when she was asked, “Who those persons were she +had at her table?” did she reply that “They were persons with +whom she had business?” I maintain that this answer goes to +prove that she has been concerned in the sale of the Necklace; for +if it were not to treat with them respecting it, why should she +have any business with them?’ I looked at this great and +penetrating genius with all that admiration which so shrewd a remark +was entitled to. ‘The question,’ said I, ‘that the Abbé +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>Sabattier puts to me is destitute of common sense; it is, therefore, +unnecessary to reply to it.’ All the voices then raised themselves +with one accord, bawling to the registrar, ‘Write down what +madame says, that the Abbé Sabattier’s question is unworthy an +answer, and has in it neither reason nor common sense!’</p> + +<p>“The abbé, a good deal nettled, exclaimed, loudly, ‘Gentlemen, +I have a right to speak without being an object of derision, however +much what I may have said may amuse you.’ At this they +all burst into a roar of laughter. As soon as they had finished +exercising their risibility, ‘Gentlemen,’ said I, ‘the questions of +Messieurs the abbés do not in the least surprise me. I am forewarned +that these gentlemen, who are about five in number, have +had some hopes of recruiting their party by the addition of a +sixth, and that all will give their votes in favour of the cardinal.’ +The registrar was now ordered, with a great deal of solemnity, to +read to me the question of this aforesaid sagacious abbé, whom I +answered in the following manner:—</p> + +<p>“‘Gentlemen, the jewellers have indeed charged me in their +depositions, but in their confrontations, where they were with me +face to face, they have discharged me, since in carrying them the +cardinal’s note which requested their address, Bassenge admits +that I desired him to use particular caution in dealing with the +cardinal. I ask my judges if the jewellers are under no obligation +to me, however slight it may be? Am I not the primary cause of +the sale of the Necklace [no doubt of it, and the jewellers must +indeed have felt greatly obliged to the countess for the share she +had altogether in the business], since it was to the cardinal I spoke +of it, who purchased it, he says, for the queen? Laporte himself +positively deposed that I had told him above a hundred times that I +would have nothing to do with the sale of the Necklace, and even +that I absolutely rejected the offer of two hundred thousand livres +in diamonds. I would further observe to my judges, that if I had +wished to have appropriated the Necklace to my own use, I should +certainly, in that case, have accepted the jewellers’ offer, so as to +conceal my intention of stealing the Necklace.’</p> + +<p>“M. de Bretignières, honorary counsellor, who sat near me, now +asked me a question. ‘Since then, madame,’ said he, ‘you have +read and seen such a great number of letters in the cardinal’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>hands, you can tell us what they contained, and if the cardinal +answered them?’ I replied, that the question was extremely indiscreet +and dangerous, and that it had better be put to the +cardinal, who could be commanded to produce these letters, in +which case the counsellor could satisfy his curiosity by reading +them himself. My judges still insisting on clear categorical +answers respecting these letters, I was obliged to reply as to their +contents. ‘Yes, gentlemen,’ answered I, ‘one of them makes +mention of an appointment broken—of their pleasure at meeting; +others “thee’d” and “thou’d” the cardinal.’ ‘Does madame +really believe that these letters came from the queen—were +written by the queen herself?’ ‘I do not know whether I ought to +declare my thoughts concerning the acts of a queen, whom I am +bound to honour and respect.’ ‘But did not madame think these +expressions very strong—too strong to induce her to believe that +they came from the sovereign?’ ‘That was the reason of my first +expressing astonishment to the cardinal.’ ‘What answer did he +make?’</p> + +<p>“I was at length obliged to answer fully the questions which +were put, feeling, after being so persecuted, that I could not retreat; +but I cannot now remember the immense number of +questions I was asked, nor the answers I gave. ‘Bravo! bravo!’ +frequently exclaimed many of my judges. ‘Certainly, certainly,’ +said they, clapping their hands, ‘’tis well replied.’ ‘Let the lady +alone,’ cried out numerous voices.”</p> + +<p>The “Compte rendu” of the Necklace case fortunately enables +us to supply the deficiency in the countess’s memory with respect +to the foregoing incident. It seems that, in referring to a particular +letter which she first of all stated commenced with the words +“Send <i>to</i> the little countess,” and which letter she asserted had +been shown to her by the cardinal as written by the queen, she +continually misquoted the opening phrase, converting it into +“Send <i>by</i> the little countess.” M. Barillon, after pointing out this +variation in her evidence, asked of her the reason of it—a simple +enough question, not requiring, one would think, much consideration +to answer. The countess, however, after much hesitation, +remarked with an air of mystery that she did not wish to reply to +it; because, by doing so, she would offend the queen. Whereupon, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>several of the judges represented to her that the sacred persons of +their majesties could not suffer by any statement she might make, +and that she owed the whole truth to justice. Then, getting +angry, she exclaimed, that the letter really commenced with the +words, “Send <i>thou</i> the little countess,” and she added that the +cardinal had shown her upwards of two hundred letters in which +the queen “thou’d” and “thee’d” the grand almoner, and made +assignations with him, several of which had taken place.⁠<a id="FNanchor_321" href="#Footnote_321" class="fnanchor">[321]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess tells us that she now made observations on the +whole of the accusation against her. “All the questions which +had been addressed to me,” she goes on to say, “together with my +answers, were written down and read over to me. The president +then asked me if I had anything more to add, to which I replied +in the negative, only I particularly entreated that my judges would +condescend to examine thoroughly into this business with an impartial +eye, from whence I could not but entertain the strongest +hopes that their definitive judgment would be in my favour.”</p> + +<p>“My enemies,” remarks Madame de la Motte, “have laboured to +convey the impression that before my judges I was bold and loquacious. +They accused me, too, of pride. They were also kind +enough to put words into my mouth which I never made use of, +making me say, with respect to the cardinal, ‘I am going to confound +this great knave.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_322" href="#Footnote_322" class="fnanchor">[322]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Whether these accusations are true or false, we have no means +of judging. It is quite certain, however, that the countess considered +she had acquitted herself in rather a smart manner before +her judges; and when they laughed at and cheered her sallies +against the abbés, she no doubt thought she had succeeded in hoodwinking +not a few of them, quite forgetting that though mankind +may be ready enough to be amused, it is not invariably at the expense +of its reason and its judgment.</p> + +<p>“After I had made my obeisances to the assembly,” continues +the countess, “I withdrew, and was conducted by the keeper of +the Conciergerie and a great many gentlemen whom I did not +know, to his wife’s apartment. All paid me their compliments, all +expressed their approbation, observing that I defended myself well, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>and that even an experienced advocate could not have pleaded my +cause better.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_323" href="#Footnote_323" class="fnanchor">[323]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>As soon as the countess had retired, the first president gave +orders for the <i>sellette</i> to be removed, and sent to inform the cardinal +that, this having been done, he could present himself before +the court.⁠<a id="FNanchor_324" href="#Footnote_324" class="fnanchor">[324]</a> The Prince de Rohan entered, attired in a long purple +robe, the mourning colour of cardinals, and with scarlet stockings +and cap, and wearing his orders round his neck, saltier-wise. “He +had,” says his admiring grand-vicar, in his most grandiloquent +style, “the noble presence of a man profoundly affected, but calm, +in the midst of his troubles; his countenance expressed alike respect, +modesty, and dignity, which disposed his judges favourably +towards him. He held himself erect at the bar, his pallid complexion +indicating the ravages of a recent illness which had nearly +proved fatal to him. The first president, at the request of several +of the councillors, invited him to be seated during the long examination +which he was about to undergo. The prince marked his +sensibility of the proffered favour by a profound bow, and only +availed himself of it at the third invitation. Questioned successively +by certain of his judges, who hoped to obtain satisfactory information +on points not perfectly plain, he astonished them by the +clearness, the precision, and the force of his answers. He perceived +the great interest which his humiliating situation inspired, +and profited by it frankly to develop the various false steps which +his good faith and credulity had caused him to take. ‘I was completely +blinded,’ exclaimed he, ‘by the intense desire which I felt +to regain the good graces of the queen.’ This touching scene excited +a profound sensation in the breasts of the members of this +august tribunal which was about to decide the fate of one of the +highest personages in the kingdom.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_325" href="#Footnote_325" class="fnanchor">[325]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>When the examination of the cardinal was concluded, Cagliostro +was summoned before the court. He presented himself before his +judges dressed in a green velvet coat, embroidered over with gold +lace; his hair, plaited from the top of his head, fell in small curls +over his shoulders, which gave him a singular appearance, not altogether +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>inconsistent with the character of the charlatan he was +commonly believed to be. “Who are you?—whence do you come?” +was asked of him. “I am a noble traveller,” he replied. At these +words the countenances of the judges brightened up, and observing +that they seemed well disposed towards him, Cagliostro entered +boldly upon his defence, intermingling his bad French with Greek, +Arabic, Latin, and Italian. His expression, his gestures, and his +vivacity were as amusing as the subject-matter of his discourse, and +he quitted the hall perfectly satisfied with having made his judges +smile.⁠<a id="FNanchor_326" href="#Footnote_326" class="fnanchor">[326]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The Demoiselle d’Oliva was examined the last. As she had +already confessed all she knew, and had nothing to add to her previous +testimony, the interrogatories addressed to her were not +many, and she was soon permitted to retire.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIII">XXXIII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786. May 31.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">DEBATE IN THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT.—THE SENTENCES.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>From half-past four in the morning of the 31st of May all the members +of the cardinal’s family, women as well as men, were assembled +at the door of the parliament chamber, in order to be in the way of +the judges as they passed into the hall. “They employed,” we +are told, “no other means of solicitation beyond preserving a mournful +silence, in which might be discerned alike their grief, their +firmness, and their respect for the throne and for the laws. This +mode of solicitation, so noble, so worthy of the illustrious houses of +Rohan, Soubise, Guéménée, and Lorraine, and at the same time so +perfectly conformable to the nature of the affair in which the cardinal +was implicated, made a more profound impression upon his +judges than all the eloquence which was exercised in his behalf.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_327" href="#Footnote_327" class="fnanchor">[327]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>If the members of the cardinal’s family did not, on this occasion, +publicly appeal to his judges in his favour, it is certain that during +the course of the proceedings every effort had been made by the +grand almoner’s relatives and friends to increase the number of his +adherents among the councillors who had to judge the case. Mesdames +de Marsan and de Brionne, and the Prince de Soubise, visited +all the members of the Grand Chamber in turn, and solicited them +in the cardinal’s behalf;⁠<a id="FNanchor_328" href="#Footnote_328" class="fnanchor">[328]</a> besides which, on the very morning of the +trial, Madame de Brionne, dissatisfied with the attitude of the first +president, did not scruple to reproach him in his own house with his +partiality and bad faith, and to plainly tell him that it was well +known he had sold himself to the Court.⁠<a id="FNanchor_329" href="#Footnote_329" class="fnanchor">[329]</a> We know that the prime +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>minister, the Count de Vergennes, was a secret partisan of the grand +almoner’s, and we know also, that M. de Laurencel, the procureur-général’s +deputy, drew up a list of names of members of the Great +Chamber, wherein he set forth against each the means that had +been employed to gain that particular councillor’s vote. This list +was found in after years among the papers which Marie-Antoinette +intrusted to M. Campan during the Revolution, and which his +daughter-in-law, Madame Campan, afterwards had under her charge. +From this document it would seem that ladies of the highest +position did not scruple to accept large bribes to exercise their +powers of seduction in the cardinal’s behalf, and it was by these +means, we are told, that some of the most venerable and most respectable +among the judges had been corrupted.⁠<a id="FNanchor_330" href="#Footnote_330" class="fnanchor">[330]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Between five and six o’clock the Parliament, Grand Chamber, +and Tournelle, had assembled. The number of members present +amounted to sixty-two, which subsequently became reduced to +forty-nine, when the loquacious clerical councillors had retired, as +they were obliged to do, on its being found that the judgment +involved afflictive punishments.⁠<a id="FNanchor_331" href="#Footnote_331" class="fnanchor">[331]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The proceedings were opened by the procureur-général, M. Joly +de Fleury, who, when contrôleur-général in former years, had experienced +his share of persecution at the hands of Madame de la +Motte, with whom he had now the opportunity of clearing off a +few old scores. In a most able speech he submitted to the Parliament +the following extremely fair proposition: First, that the +Parliament should adjudge the “<i>approuvés</i>” and the pretended +signature of the queen to be forgeries; secondly, that Count de la +Motte should be sentenced to the galleys for life, by reason of his +contumacy; thirdly, that Villette should undergo a similar sentence, +and further, that he should be whipped and branded, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>his effects be confiscated; fourthly, that Madame de la Motte should +be confined for life in the prison of the Salpêtrière, after being +whipped and branded, her effects to be likewise confiscated; fifthly, +that the Cardinal de Rohan should ask pardon of the king and +queen for having been wanting in respect towards their sacred persons; +that he should be banished the precincts of the Court, and +that, during a period to be fixed by the Parliament, he should be +suspended from his office of grand almoner; that he should be sentenced +to such alms-giving as the Parliament might direct; and, +finally, that he should be kept in confinement until he had obeyed +and satisfied the judgment now given. Sixthly, that D’Oliva be +put out of court. Seventhly, that Cagliostro be acquitted.⁠<a id="FNanchor_332" href="#Footnote_332" class="fnanchor">[332]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The party opposed to the queen at once rejected these proposals. +No sooner had M. Joly de Fleury done speaking, than M. de +Barillon, a partisan of the cardinal’s, started up and exclaimed that +the conclusions to which they had just listened were not those of a +procureur-général, but rather those of a minister whom it was not +difficult to recognize; alluding, of course, to the Baron de Breteuil. +The advocate-general, M. Séguier, to the surprise of the excited +councillors, joined in this attack upon his colleague, whom he personally +denounced.⁠<a id="FNanchor_333" href="#Footnote_333" class="fnanchor">[333]</a> Hereupon quite a scene ensued and accusations +were bandied backwards and forwards between the legal officers +of the crown. M. de Fleury reproached M. Séguier with his loose +and disorderly life, with his nightly rambles in the Palais Royal, +and the money that these cost him. “It may be so,” replied the +other, “out of my house I do what I please, but no one has known +me to sell my opinion basely to fortune.” The procureur-général +made no reply to this insinuation but remained stupefied as it +were with his mouth open.⁠<a id="FNanchor_334" href="#Footnote_334" class="fnanchor">[334]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The incident having terminated, M. de Mineres passed in review +all the various impostures of Madame de la Motte, maintained +that the cardinal was not her only victim, that the jewellers had +been equally deceived, for they loaded her with thanks for the exertions +she had made in their behalf, and offered her presents, whereas, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>neither thanks nor presents were offered to the cardinal, whom the +jewellers regarded simply as an instrument chosen by the countess +to conduct the negotiation: other speakers instanced the letter of +thanks which the cardinal had repeatedly advised the jewellers to +send to the queen, as a convincing proof of his good faith. M. de +Jonville, third master of requests, attributed the evidence which +appeared to tell most against the cardinal entirely to the bad +memory of Böhmer, of which he gave several proofs.⁠<a id="FNanchor_335" href="#Footnote_335" class="fnanchor">[335]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The speeches of Councillors D’Epréménil and Fretteau, and the +Abbé Sabattier, produced however the greatest effect. This celebrated +trio showed the utmost boldness in attacking the court and +braving its anger, and spoke vehemently in favour of the cardinal’s +complete acquittal.⁠<a id="FNanchor_336" href="#Footnote_336" class="fnanchor">[336]</a> Singularly enough, it was these very same +three men who, a year or two afterwards, stirred up the Parliament +to refuse to register the royal edicts, and were among the first to +demand the convocation of the States-general, for which acts of +temerity the two last were packed off by <i>lettres-de-cachet</i>—the one +to the Castle of Ham, the other to dreary Mont St.-Michel, and +D’Epréménil, a few months later to the Isle of Sainte-Marguerite +(Calypso’s enchanted island,) whence he returned—the Revolution +having made rapid strides meanwhile—“a red-hot royalist,” to +finish his career under the axe of the guillotine. M. Robert de +St.-Vincent was another of those who spoke in favour of the Prince +de Rohan, who, he maintained, had been deceived by the most +plausible lies. He denied the legality of the procureur-général’s +conclusions, and the power of the Parliament to incorporate them +in its judgment, and asked for the cardinal’s acquittal. He condemned, +too, the publicity given to the proceedings, and expressed +his regret that the king and queen had not been advised by some +wiser minister, who would have been more regardful of the dignity +of the crown. The president, D’Ormesson—the same who +sent the countess a few louis “by the hands of the police”—offered +an amendment to the procureur-général’s proposition, +to the effect that the cardinal should retain his offices +and dignities, but that he should be required to ask pardon of the +queen for the offence he had committed. There was no difference +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>of opinion among the judges as to the measure of punishment +to be meted out to Madame de la Motte, excepting that MM. +Robert de Saint-Vincent and Dyonis du Séjour pressed the +passing of sentence of death upon her. As her crime, however, had +been unforeseen by the laws, this penalty could not be legally inflicted.⁠<a id="FNanchor_337" href="#Footnote_337" class="fnanchor">[337]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The discussion, which was very animated, continued throughout +the day. At two o’clock in the afternoon the sitting was suspended, +in order that the judges might dine at a table which the +first president had had set out for them in the hall of St.-Louis; +the greater number, we are told, ate standing, and by half-past +three the sitting was resumed. Between nine and ten o’clock at +night, after the final voting had taken place, the following judgment +was delivered.⁠<a id="FNanchor_338" href="#Footnote_338" class="fnanchor">[338]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“The Court, the Great Chamber assembled, in the exercise of its +jurisdiction and on the conclusions of the procureur-général of the +king, declares that the words ‘<i>approuvé</i>’ and the signature, ‘<i>Marie-Antoinette +de France</i>,’ have been fraudulently appended to the margin +of the document, entitled, ‘Propositions and Conditions of +Price and Payment’ for the Necklace brought in question at this +trial, and which are falsely attributed to the queen; orders that +the said words ‘<i>approuvé</i>,’ and the said signature, ‘<i>Marie-Antoinette +de France</i>,’ shall be struck out and erased from the said document, +and that mention shall be made of the present decree on the same, +which will be and shall remain deposited in the criminal registry +of the Court,⁠<a id="FNanchor_339" href="#Footnote_339" class="fnanchor">[339]</a> of all of which affirmation shall be made by the court +registrar.</p> + +<p>“Adjudging the consequences of the contumacy declared good +and valid by the decree of the Court of the 10th of April, 1786, +against Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte accused, absent—</p> + +<p>“For the facts proved by the proceedings condemns the said +Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte to be flogged and beaten naked +with rods, and branded with a hot iron on the right shoulder with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>the letters ‘G. A. L.’ by the public executioner; this done to be +led and conducted to the galleys of the king, there to be detained +to serve our said king as convict for life.⁠<a id="FNanchor_340" href="#Footnote_340" class="fnanchor">[340]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“Declares all the goods of the said Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la +Motte acquired and confiscated to the king, or whomsoever he may +appoint, a fine of two hundred livres to the king being previously +levied thereon: which sentence, by reason of the contumacy of the +said De la Motte, shall be written upon a tablet, which shall be +affixed to a post planted for this purpose in the Place de Grève +(place of execution).</p> + +<p>“Banishes Louis-Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette from the +kingdom for life.</p> + +<p>“Condemns Jeanne de Valois de Saint-Remi de Luz, wife of +Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte, while having a halter round her +neck, to be flogged and beaten naked with rods, and branded with +a hot iron upon both shoulders with the letter ‘V,’ by the public +executioner; this done, to be led and conducted to the prison of +the Salpêtrière, there to be detained and confined for life.⁠<a id="FNanchor_341" href="#Footnote_341" class="fnanchor">[341]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“Declares likewise all the goods of the said De la Motte, and +the said Rétaux de Villette, acquired and confiscated to the king, +or to whomsoever he may appoint; a fine of two hundred livres to +the king being previously levied upon each.</p> + +<p>“Upon the complaint and accusation brought at the request of +the procureur-général of the king against Marie-Nicole Le Guay, +alias d’Oliva or Dessigny, puts the parties out of court and discharges +the process.</p> + +<p>“Discharges Alexandre de Cagliostro and Louis-René-Édouard +de Rohan from the complaint and accusation brought against them +at the request of the procureur-général of the king.</p> + +<p>“Orders, that the memorials printed for Jeanne de Saint-Remi +de Valois de la Motte shall be and shall continue to be suppressed, +as containing false statements, injurious and calumnious alike +against the said Cardinal de Rohan and the said De Cagliostro.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span></p> + +<p>“Upon the remainder of the request of the said De Cagliostro, +alike against Commissary Chénon and De Launay, governor of +the Bastille, puts it out of court, without prejudice to his +appeal when and how he may be advised; upon the rest of the +demands, requests, and conclusions of the parties puts these out +of court.</p> + +<p>“Gives permission to the Cardinal de Rohan and the said De +Cagliostro to cause the present judgment to be printed and posted +up wheresoever it may seem good to them.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_342" href="#Footnote_342" class="fnanchor">[342]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Contemporary accounts agree in stating that something like ten +thousand people were assembled in the courts and passages of the +palace and in the neighbourhood of their approaches, all anxious to +learn the judgment of the Parliament.⁠<a id="FNanchor_343" href="#Footnote_343" class="fnanchor">[343]</a> Crowds streamed across +the Pont Neuf, the Pont Saint-Michel, the Pont-au-Change, and +the Ponts Notre-Dame, coming from all parts of Paris. There +were courtiers, men of letters, financiers, abbés, avocats, avoués, +shopkeepers and their wives, students, working men, soldiers, +police agents, men and women from the <i>halles</i>, and idlers of every +description. “About nine o’clock at night,” says Madame de la +Motte, “I heard a report like that of acclamation in the courtyard. +I ran to look out of one of the windows which commanded a view +of the court, and saw crowds of people running very fast by the +great staircase. I could not distinctly understand what they said, +except that one of them, who was very near the window, cried out, +‘Bravo! bravo! Upon my word, it is very fortunate for the +cardinal; but what will become of poor Madame de la Motte?’ +The moment these words vibrated in my ear, they were like an +electric shock. Unable to sustain myself, my legs bent under me: +I tottered and sank into a chair. When I was a little recovered, +the keeper of the Conciergerie, assisted by his son, conducted me +to my apartment, where having left me for a few minutes, with a +view of gaining authentic information of the definitive sentence of +the court, they soon after returned. ‘The cardinal,’ said they, ‘is +put out of court, and delivered from further process; Cagliostro +and D’Oliva are the same; Villette, madame, is banished, as well +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>as you.’ ‘For how long?’ ‘I believe, for three years; but everybody +blames the judges. We think there will be some alteration.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_344" href="#Footnote_344" class="fnanchor">[344]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It is likely enough that, out of consideration for the countess +and her well-known violent temper, the foregoing innocent piece of +deception was practised upon her by the keeper of the Conciergerie, +who soon afterwards prevailed upon her to retire to rest. Meanwhile +the judges were leaving the palace, pressed upon by an immense +crowd of people, who made the walls of the old building +ring again with their acclamations. A thousand voices shouted +out, “<i>Vive le Parlement!</i>” “<i>Vive le Cardinal!</i>” The market +women, throwing themselves in the way of the departing councillors, +vociferated their applause, and offered them bouquets of +flowers. M. Titon, one of the reporters of the case, who, with his +fellow-reporter, Dupuis de Marcé, had adopted the conclusions of +the procureur-général, threw the flowers back again with marked +ill-humour, to let the people see that he merited no share of this +popular ovation. Something, however, more substantial than +flowers were in store for M. Titon, for the king conferred on him +the post of civil lieutenant in reward for his zeal.⁠<a id="FNanchor_345" href="#Footnote_345" class="fnanchor">[345]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>When MM. Target and De Bonnières, the advocates who had +advised the cardinal to take his trial before the Parliament, sought +to enter the record office to communicate the judgment to their +client, curt old De Launay, governor of the Bastille, who had the +Prince de Rohan in his charge, informed them that he had received +specific orders from the Baron de Breteuil not to allow any one to +speak to his prisoner. On its being represented to him that the +cardinal was no longer in legal custody, since he had been formally +discharged of the accusation against him by the judgment of the +Parliament just rendered, and on the bystanders expressing their +disapprobation by loud murmurs, he eventually permitted the two +advocates to enter. “The cardinal, robed in the Roman purple,” +says Cagliostro, “was carried off in triumph;”⁠<a id="FNanchor_346" href="#Footnote_346" class="fnanchor">[346]</a> and so he was, +but to the Bastille. As soon as the interview between the grand +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>almoner and his counsel had terminated, De Launay informed him +that, the Parliament having separated, he would have to return to +that gloomy state prison. Hearing this, the cardinal proceeded to +follow his gaoler to the carriage, while the people rushed forward, +and kissed both his hands and his garments. To impose upon the +crowd De Launay gave orders for the vehicle to be driven “to the +hôtel,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_347" href="#Footnote_347" class="fnanchor">[347]</a> and the people, imagining the Palais-Cardinal to be intended, +ran beside the carriage, shouting their congratulations, and only +quitted it when it disappeared within the walls of the grim old +fortress, every stone of which was destined in little more than three +short years to be razed to the ground.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIV">XXXIV.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786. June.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE SENTENCES CARRIED OUT.—“WHAT IS RESERVED FOR THE BLOOD +OF THE BOURBONS?”</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The evening following that on which judgment was pronounced, the +gates of the Bastille were opened to the cardinal, who returned to +the Palais-Cardinal at half-past ten o’clock at night. There he +found the members of his family and the people of the <i>quartier</i> +waiting to receive him, and testify their joy at his acquittal.⁠<a id="FNanchor_348" href="#Footnote_348" class="fnanchor">[348]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Cagliostro shared the popular ovations. He, too, was conducted +back in a sort of triumph to the Bastille, where he remained until +he recovered possession of the portfolio and other effects, minus, +however, the one hundred thousand francs in cash and bills seized +in his house, he tells us, by Commissary Chénon. He left the +Bastille late at night in a hackney coach. The evening, he says, +was dark, the part of the city he lived in retired, but when he arrived +at his house in the Rue Saint-Claude he found himself +welcomed by the acclamations of thousands. The doors of his +hôtel had been burst open; the courtyard, the staircase, the very +apartments—indeed, every corner of the house was crowded with +people.⁠<a id="FNanchor_349" href="#Footnote_349" class="fnanchor">[349]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>As for Rétaux de Villette, he himself tells us that he was recommended +by both the gaoler and the executioner to take his departure +as rapidly as possible—advice which he was only too ready to follow. +“Outside the city gate,” he says, “a great man, who belonged, I +believe, to the cardinal, took me on one side, and gave me a purse +of fifty-five louis, and a note to the Abbé d’Aimar, to whom, he told +me, I was to make known my future wants. When, however, I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>desired to profit by these instructions, I could obtain no reply.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_350" href="#Footnote_350" class="fnanchor">[350]</a> +Cagliostro says that Villette was banished in the ignominious sense +of the term—that is, led out of prison, with a rope round his neck, +by the executioner, who, when they arrived together at the city +gate, gave him, first of all, a loaf, and then a kick behind, with +strict injunctions never to return.⁠<a id="FNanchor_351" href="#Footnote_351" class="fnanchor">[351]</a> The fifty-five louis, however, +were some sort of salve to the indignity offered to the person of +the ex-gendarme.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle d’Oliva, on being told that she was adjudged “<i>hors +de cour</i>,” thought it to be a prohibition against her going to Versailles +any more, and faithfully promised to observe it.⁠<a id="FNanchor_352" href="#Footnote_352" class="fnanchor">[352]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It will be readily understood that the sentences of the Parliament +excited the indignation of both the king and the queen. The +former inveighed against the judgment as being a most outrageous +one. The cardinal, he said, knew too well the usages of the Court +to have been idiot enough to believe that Madame de la Motte was +admitted near the queen, or was charged with any such commission +as that of the purchase of the Necklace.⁠<a id="FNanchor_353" href="#Footnote_353" class="fnanchor">[353]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>As for Marie-Antoinette, she was profoundly afflicted. “Come +and weep with me, come and console your friend, my dear Polignac,” +she writes; “the judgment which has just been pronounced is a +shameful insult. I am bathed in tears of grief and despair. One +can flatter oneself with nothing when perversity exhausts every +means to crush my spirit. What ingratitude! But I shall triumph +over the wicked by tripling the good which I have always tried to +do. They will feel greater pleasure in afflicting me than I shall in +revenging myself upon them. Come, my dear heart.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_354" href="#Footnote_354" class="fnanchor">[354]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In writing to her sister, the queen does not restrain her indignation +that the cardinal, whom she believed to be the most guilty in +the affair, should have been allowed to escape. It is thus she expresses +herself:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span></p> + +<p class="right">“1st June, 1786.</p> + +<p>“I need not tell you, my dear sister, how indignant I feel at the +judgment which has just been pronounced by the parliament. It +has no respect for royalty; it is a shameful insult, and I am bathed +in tears of despair. What! a man who had the audacity to lend +himself to that indecent and infamous scene in the arbour, who +supposed that he had an assignation with the Queen of France, with +the wife of his king, that the queen had received a rose from him,⁠<a id="FNanchor_355" href="#Footnote_355" class="fnanchor">[355]</a> +and had suffered him to throw himself at her feet, should not, when +a throne is concerned, be held guilty of high treason, but should be +simply regarded as one who had been deceived! It is odious and +revolting. Pity me, my good sister; I did not merit this injury, I +who have endeavoured to do good to all who surround me, and who +only remember that I am the daughter of Marie-Thérèse, to show +myself, as she recommended me when embracing me at my departure, +French to the very bottom of my heart. To be so sacrificed +to a perjured priest, to a lewd intriguer, how grievous! But +do not think that I shall allow myself to do anything unworthy of +me. I have declared that I will never seek to revenge myself +beyond doubling the good which I have already done. I need not +tell you that the king is indignant like myself; he exiles the cardinal +to La Chaise-Dieu, and Cagliostro is expelled from France. +Adieu! My children are well. We all embrace you, and press you +to our hearts.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_356" href="#Footnote_356" class="fnanchor">[356]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>To Madame Campan, who knew more of the particulars of the +intrigue than any one else about the queen, Marie-Antoinette +mournfully said: “Make me your compliments of condolence; the +intriguer who wished to ruin me, or to obtain money by abusing +my name, and forging my signature, has just been acquitted. But +as a Frenchwoman, also receive my compliments of condolence. +A people is indeed unhappy to have for supreme tribunal a set of +men who are swayed by their own passions, many of whom are +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>susceptible of corruption, while the remainder are possessed of an +audacity which they are only too ready to manifest against authority, +as they have just shown in so marked a manner.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_357" href="#Footnote_357" class="fnanchor">[357]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“At this epoch,” says Madame Campan, “the happy days of the +queen terminated. Adieu for ever to the peaceful and simple +pleasures of Trianon, to the fêtes where once shone the magnificence, +intellect, and good taste of the court of France; adieu, above all, +to that consideration and respect, the forms of which surround the +throne, but of which the reality alone is its solid base.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_358" href="#Footnote_358" class="fnanchor">[358]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Spite of the judgment of the Parliament, the cardinal was not +allowed to go entirely scot-free. The king at once wrote to the +Baron de Breteuil, requiring him to demand from the cardinal the +resignation of his office of grand almoner, and the surrender of the +various orders the king had conferred upon him. Accompanying +this letter was a <i>lettre-de-cachet</i> banishing the cardinal within three +days to his abbey of the Chaise-Dieu, in the midst of the Auvergne +mountains, where the king sarcastically intimated he would not be +likely to receive much company. Until his departure he was commanded +to see no one, except his relatives and counsel. If nothing +else could be done, a stop could, at any rate, be put to receptions +and ovations at the Palais-Cardinal.</p> + +<p>On receiving the above instructions, the Baron de Breteuil who +was suffering from gout in the stomach, rose, it is said, from his +bed completely resuscitated at the prospect of being the bearer to +the cardinal of such agreeable news.⁠<a id="FNanchor_359" href="#Footnote_359" class="fnanchor">[359]</a> He presented himself to the +Prince de Rohan, on the morning after the release of the latter +from the Bastille, and just as he had ordered his carriage intending +to go round and thank his judges. The prince without appearing +the least disquieted informed the minister that he would +observe two of the orders of the king with the fidelity, the exactitude, +and the submission which the Rohans had always shown for the +sovereign’s commands; but, with regard to his resignation of the +office of grand almoner, he could not confide this to M. de Breteuil, +as he had had the honour of sending it to the king an hour ago +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>through the Count de Vergennes.⁠<a id="FNanchor_360" href="#Footnote_360" class="fnanchor">[360]</a> The minister pressed the +prince to sign some further paper in reference to this resignation, +observing that he did so with regret, but was obliged to obey the +orders of the king his master. “Monsieur,” replied the cardinal, +in a nettled tone, “the king himself has already done justice on +me. I have no need of an executioner.” This <i>mot</i> speedily circulated +all over Paris, and the minister was henceforth styled “Bourreau +(executioner) Breteuil.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_361" href="#Footnote_361" class="fnanchor">[361]</a> Louis XVI.’s minister of justice experienced +a more severe rebuff when charged, a few years later, +with carrying out the terms of a <i>lettre-de-cachet</i> banishing the Duke +d’Orléans to his château of Villers-Cotterets for his famous protest +at the “royal session,” when, as Carlyle remarks, he “cut his court +moorings.” The baron wished to accompany the duke in his carriage, +in order that, in accordance with the king’s commands, he +might not lose sight of him, whereupon the duke observed, with +disdainful pride, “Ah, well! jump up behind.”</p> + +<p>On June 2, the day after Cagliostro’s release from the Bastille, +police-inspector Brugnières entered his apartment and addressed +him “in the king’s name,” at which ominous words his heart, he +says, sank within him. The order of which Brugnières was the +bearer was dated on the day preceding, and enjoined the count to +leave Paris in three days, and the kingdom within three weeks. +Next day Cagliostro removed to Passy, and some few days after to +St.-Denis, whence he started with his wife to Boulogne-sur-Mer. +On the 16th they embarked for England under circumstances the +most sentimental, if we can credit the count’s narrative of the +affair. “The shores that I quitted,” observes he, “were lined by +a crowd of citizens of all classes, who blessed and thanked me for +the good I had done their brethren, addressing to me the most +touching farewells. The winds carried me far away from them, +and I heard them no more, but I saw them again on their knees, +with their hands raised towards heaven, and it was my turn to +bless them, and to cry out and repeat, as though they could hear +me: ‘Adieu, Frenchmen! adieu, my children! adieu, my country!’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_362" href="#Footnote_362" class="fnanchor">[362]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The Countess de la Motte remained for three weeks in the Conciergerie +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>ignorant of the true nature of her sentence, and hoping, +whatever it might be, that it would not be carried out. “At +length,” she tells us, “the twenty-first of June arrived, that eventful +day which will live in my remembrance as long as memory +itself shall live—that day the most accursed in the calendar of my +misfortunes.</p> + +<p>“One of the gaolers came to my chamber, and told me that he +had come from my counsel M. Doillot, ‘who,’ said the deceiver, ‘is +now in the <i>greffe</i>, (the record office,) and desires to see you as he is +going immediately into the country, which is the reason why he +comes so early in the morning. It is to read you a letter which +he has received from Versailles. It will be unnecessary for you to +regard your dress, because he is in so great a hurry.’ I threw on +hastily a morning gown, and followed this impostor, who made me +descend a small staircase which I used to pass every morning to +go to the lodge of the <i>concierge</i>. He went before me and entered +first. I pushed the door from me to get through, which I had +scarce half effected when I found the door forcibly pushed to by a +person on the other side with as much violence as if he wished to +secure an ox, whom he was fearful would escape. Some one immediately +seized me by the right arm, and dragged me into the +<i>greffe</i>, where another laid hold of my other arm, and bound me fast. +The first thing I observed was the <i>huissier</i> Breton holding some +papers in his hand, which I conceived, as the <i>concierge</i> had told +me, would be read, announcing my pretended banishment. ‘No, +certainly,’ said I to Breton, ‘I will not endure to hear so unjust a +sentence, nor fall upon my knees to receive the condemnation of an +iniquitous cabal, predetermined to sacrifice me!’ A great number +of strange persons were present, many of whom seized me rudely +round the waist, and others by the legs to oblige me to kneel down, +but not being able to succeed they held me suspended at a distance +from the ground. While I was in this posture the <i>huissier</i> read +my sentence, but the cries I uttered almost drowned his voice.</p> + +<p>“Overpowered by superior strength my resistance became more +feeble, and in this condition I was dragged to the place where the +sacrifice was to be completed. Weary and faint, exhausted by my +cries and the ineffectual struggles I had already made, entreating +those around me to avenge the innocent and <i>the blood of their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>good King Henry II.!</i> I at length lost all sense of reason. I +could see nothing, could feel nothing which could serve to show me +what they intended to do.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_363" href="#Footnote_363" class="fnanchor">[363]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>We will supplement Madame de la Motte’s own account of the +infliction of the sentence passed upon her, by some extracts from +contemporary memoirs which furnish several curious additional +particulars.</p> + +<p>“Madame de la Motte,” writes the Hon. Mr. Eden to Mr. Pitt, +“was called up at five, and informed that the Court wished to see +her. She had no suspicion of the judgment, which is not communicated +here to the accused, except in the case of a capital +sentence. She went in an undress, without stays, which proved +convenient. Upon the registrar reading the sentence, her surprise, +rage, and shrieks were beyond description. The <i>bourreau</i> (executioner) +and his assistants instantly seized her, and carried her into +an outer court, where she was fastened to a cart with a halter round +her neck. The <i>bourreau</i> talked to her like a tooth-drawer, and +assured her most politely that it would soon be over. The whipping +was slight and <i>pro formâ</i>, but the branding was done with some +severity. It is a good idea that the ‘V’ (<i>voleuse</i>—thief) on her +shoulders stands also for Valois.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_364" href="#Footnote_364" class="fnanchor">[364]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The Countess de Sabran, writing on the day of the occurrence to +the Chevalier de Boufflers, says—“Madame de la Motte was +punished to-day, at 6 o’clock in the morning, in order to avoid too +great a concourse of curious people. The unfortunate woman was +sleeping profoundly when they came to tell her, that her lawyer +was waiting to talk with her about her affairs; they had adopted +this course the more easily to effect their object. She got up, not +fearing anything, put on a small petticoat and a cloak, and descended +quickly to the room where she beheld eight men and M. +Le Breton, the registrar, who held her sentence in his hand. At +this sight she was much agitated, and tried to fly; whereupon they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>threw themselves upon her, and tied her little delicate hands, +which people called charming and which are certainly very dexterous. +‘Why such precautions?’ she boldly asked. ‘I shall not escape +you; if you were executioners, you could not treat me worse.’ She +believed that it was only a question of removing her to a convent, +there to pass a few years. They told her to go down on her knees, +and as she was not inclined to do so, one of the executioners gave +her a blow on the ham-strings which brought her to the ground. +M. Le Breton then read her sentence. At the moment she heard +she was going to be whipped and branded, she went into convulsions +and into a fearful fit of passion, biting everything that was near +her, tearing her clothes, pulling out her hair, &c. In spite of this +the executioners seized her and carried her to the place of punishment. +There, they put the rope round her neck, and tried in vain +to undress her; she defended herself like a lion, with feet, hands, +and teeth, and so obstinately that they were obliged to cut her +clothes and even her chemise in order to make an end of the affair; +which was very indecent, as in spite of the unreasonable hour +which had been chosen with the object of keeping people away, +spectators were present in very great numbers.</p> + +<p>“She uttered loud cries, always saying: ‘Spare the blood of the +Valois.’ She hurled forth curses against the Parliament, the cardinal, +and even some one more sacred, and struggled so that the +executioner could not perform the operation of branding her as +perfectly as he wished, and scored her all down the back. After the +infliction of this sanguinary punishment, they conveyed her in a +hackney coach to the Salpêtrière.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_365" href="#Footnote_365" class="fnanchor">[365]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Nougaret, author of the “Anecdotes of the reign of Louis XVI.,” +says, that “on the countess being conducted before her judges, +the registrar proceeded to read her sentence; on hearing which, +astonishment, fury, rage, and despair seemed all of a sudden to take +possession of her. Determined not to hear her sentence to the +end, she flung herself on the ground and rolled about like a person +convulsed, giving vent to the most horrible yells. The executioner +and his assistants had the greatest difficulty in removing her to the +court of the palace, where her sentence was to be inflicted. Immediately +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>she perceived the instruments of punishment, she seized +one of the executioners by the collar, and in a moment of frenzy bit +a piece out of his hand, then sunk on the ground in convulsions far +more violent than those she had recently recovered from. It was +found necessary to tear her clothes off from her to mark her with the +red-hot iron on her shoulders. During this operation, her cries +and imprecations were redoubled. A few hours afterwards there +circulated all over Paris the following epigram on the countess’s +pretensions to the honours of the house of Valois”—the <i>fleur-de-lis</i>, +(the arms of the Valois,) it should be remembered, invariably formed +part of any mark with which culprits were branded:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“À la moderne Valois</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Qui contestera ses droits?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">La cour des pairs elle-même,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Quoi qu’en termes peu polis,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lui fait par arrêt suprême,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Endosser les fleurs-de-lis.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_366" href="#Footnote_366" class="fnanchor">[366]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Louis Blanc, in his “History of the French Revolution,” quoting +mainly the Baron de Besenval and the Abbé Georgel, says: “Tied +with cords, and dragged into the court of the Palais, she commenced +to utter cries, not of terror, but of fury. Addressing herself +to the people, she exclaimed, ‘If they treat thus the blood of the +Valois, what is the lot reserved for that of the Bourbons?’ And +in the midst of the groans which indignation drew from the crowd, +these characteristic words were heard:—‘It is my own fault that I +suffer this ignominy; I had only to say one word, and I should +have been hung.’ [She not only said this word, but launched forth +a succession of impure and calumnious charges against the queen, +couched, too, in the foulest language.] Then like as was done to +Lally Tollendal, they placed a gag in her mouth, and as she was +struggling with despair in the hands of the executioner, the red-hot +iron, which ought to have marked her on the shoulder, glanced off +and marked her on the breast.”</p> + +<p>Rétaux de Villette asserts that “people were posted in the court +of the palace to make a great noise, so that none of the public who +chanced to be present might hear what Madame de la Motte said. +The sentence executed, she was thrown half dead into a coach, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>driven at full gallop to the +Salpêtrière,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_367" href="#Footnote_367" class="fnanchor">[367]</a> the prison where abandoned +women were confined. One of the doors of the vehicle having +flown open on the road, the officers in charge of the countess were +only just in time to save her from springing out and throwing herself +under the wheels. When she arrived at the Salpêtrière, she +made a further attempt to destroy herself by forcing the coverlid of +her miserable truckle bed into her mouth.⁠<a id="FNanchor_368" href="#Footnote_368" class="fnanchor">[368]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>On the day the Countess de Valois de la Motte underwent the +infliction of the first portion of her sentence, Louis XVI. set out on +a royal progress to Cherbourg, to be present at the submerging of +the first cone for the foundation of the gigantic breakwater there. +As this was being slowly lowered into the sea amidst shouts of +<i>Vive le Roi!</i> from thousands of lusty Norman throats, we may be +quite certain that, what might chance to be “in reserve for the +blood of the Bourbons” was one of the very last things the king +was likely to trouble himself about.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXV">XXXV.<br> +<span class="smcap">Aug. 1785–June 1786.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">COUNT DE LA MOTTE’S FLIGHT—COLD STEEL AND POISON.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>We must now go back a little in our narrative and see what has +become of Count de la Motte since his flight from Bar-sur-Aube. +Beugnot mentions that he took his place in the diligence, but he seems +to have gone in one of his own carriages, and posted as fast as he +could, day and night, to Boulogne, where he arrived on the night +of August 20, having accomplished the journey of three hundred +miles, all stoppages included, in little more than forty-eight hours, +and whence at noon on the 22nd he crossed over to England.⁠<a id="FNanchor_369" href="#Footnote_369" class="fnanchor">[369]</a> +The authorities, who had shown such remissness in not having +him arrested earlier, now that he was beyond their reach began to +bestir themselves, and sent orders to the officers of the marshalsea, +at Boulogne and other ports, to overhaul all vessels leaving +the harbour, and capture the count if they only got the chance. +The officer of the marshalsea at Boulogne was lucky enough to +capture the count’s carriage, which had been left behind at the +“Hôtel du Lion d’Argent,” and in his simplicity set a man to +watch it, for we know not how many days and nights, in the vain +hope that the count would return and claim it.⁠<a id="FNanchor_370" href="#Footnote_370" class="fnanchor">[370]</a> This we need +hardly say he had not the remotest intention of doing.</p> + +<p>Of the various dangers and mishaps which befel the count on +this, his second visit to England, full particulars are to be found in +the narrative which he himself has written of his adventures.⁠<a id="FNanchor_371" href="#Footnote_371" class="fnanchor">[371]</a> He +started, he tells us, with merely a hundred louis in his purse, and +made with all speed for England, where, on the occasion of his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>former trip, he had left some diamonds, “which it was natural,” +he observes, “he should procure.” His first call, therefore, was +on Gray the jeweller, from whom he obtained the diamonds in +question, and ere long was living on the proceeds arising from +their sale. While waiting for intelligence as to the turn affairs +were taking in Paris, he tells us that he visited the Haymarket +Theatre one evening, and that while returning home in a hackney +coach a daring attempt was made to assassinate him. His hat +fortunately saved his skull. A sword was then thrust through the +little window behind, and nearly spitted him to his seat. However, +he seems to have escaped without bodily injury.</p> + +<p>Under the pretence that his life was not safe in London, the +count takes a journey to the north. Whether his life were really +in danger it is impossible to say, but it is quite certain that his +liberty was; for there were serious thoughts at this time of kidnapping +him and carrying him over to France. The proposal +emanated from a spy in the pay of the French government named +Le Mercier. “If,” reports he, “in order to carry the individual +off, cunning should not suffice, we will employ force to conduct +him to some isolated spot on the banks of the Thames, where we +will take care to have stationed for a fortnight previously, if necessary, +one of those vessels which bring coal to London from the +north. Their hulls are so thick, that it would be impossible for +any one confined in the hold to make himself heard, let him cry out +as loud as he will.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_372" href="#Footnote_372" class="fnanchor">[372]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Before this amiable suggestion of the spy Le Mercier could be +acted upon, Count de la Motte had taken up his quarters in Lancaster, +whence he went to Dublin, next to Glasgow, and finally to +Edinburgh. Here, he says, he made the discovery that an attempt +had been made to poison him, as he believed, at some Dublin +dinner party. At any rate, he was so ill that he was obliged to +keep his bed for three months. On his recovery he found that he +was watched whenever he went abroad, which was likely enough +to have been the case, as at this time Count d’Adhémar, ambassador +of France in England, wrote, it is said, to a great personage at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>the French court, stating that Count de la Motte had withdrawn +among the mountains of Scotland, where the so-called privileges of +the Scotch prevented any legal seizure of his person being made; +nevertheless he, the ambassador, had found ten well-disposed hardy +mountaineers who would undertake to capture the count and carry +him over to France, for which service, as they would probably have +to employ as much force as seduction in the accomplishment of it, +and incur the risk of being hanged, they demanded a thousand +louis each. The queen, having heard of this letter, at once said +that even if it were necessary to give double this amount, there +ought not to be a moment’s hesitation, since the presence of the +Count de la Motte was the one thing wanting to thoroughly unveil +a most abominable conspiracy and to punish the authors of it. +Orders were thereupon given to place the requisite sum at the +ambassador’s disposal.⁠<a id="FNanchor_373" href="#Footnote_373" class="fnanchor">[373]</a> By this time, however, the count had left +Edinburgh, and gone south to Newcastle-on-Tyne, where, he pretends, +the capuchin, McDermott, whose acquaintance he made +when last in England, bribed by the handsome offer of ten thousand +pounds, attempted to poison him on several occasions.⁠<a id="FNanchor_374" href="#Footnote_374" class="fnanchor">[374]</a> We +do not believe a word of this; the French government were no +doubt anxious to secure the count’s presence at the approaching +trial, and would have been only too glad of a chance of kidnapping +him; but that they, or indeed any one else, wished to put him out +of the way, is extremely improbable, for it was his evidence, and +not his silence, that they desired to ensure.</p> + +<p>About this time, namely, early in April, 1786, a woman named +Costa, wife of one of the ambassador’s spies, who had succeeded +in scraping acquaintance with Count de la Motte, crossed over to +Paris with a letter from the count to M. Doillot, Madame de la +Motte’s counsel, in which he stated that he could make the innocence +of his wife clear as day if he only dared come forward. The +count insinuated that he had a letter of the cardinal’s, inquiring of +him whether he had succeeded in disposing of the diamonds.⁠<a id="FNanchor_375" href="#Footnote_375" class="fnanchor">[375]</a> On +the woman Costa’s return to England she went, according to her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>own account, by direction of the Paris police to Count d’Adhémar, +who bade her tell her husband to take a house at Newcastle-on-Tyne, +so as to facilitate the drugging of the count and conveying +him on board a French ship which was lying ready in the harbour +under the command of one Surbois, an <i>exempt</i> of the French police. +Madame Costa asserted that her husband had already received a +bribe of a thousand guineas for this purpose (less a commission of +sixty guineas which the ambassador’s secretary deducted for his +little pickings out of the affair), and had been promised nine thousand +guineas more when the count was safe on board.⁠<a id="FNanchor_376" href="#Footnote_376" class="fnanchor">[376]</a> Costa, +however, seems to have let the count into the secret, and they came +up to London together to work upon the ambassadorial exchequer +as best as they could.</p> + +<p>Arrived there on the 18th of May, Count de la Motte tells us +that shortly afterwards he meets the French ambassador at Lady +Spencer’s and proceeds to draw him out. From what the ambassador +lets fall, the count comes to the conclusion that the government +now wish to get him out of the way simply to ensure his +silence. “Your presence and deposition,” remarks the ambassador, +“would entirely overthrow all that has hitherto been done, and +the business would take quite a different turn.” He tells the +count that, according to the advice of the Duke of Rutland, they +could have seized him when he was at Dublin. They thought, +however, they had sufficient evidence to convict the cardinal without +his testimony. Next day the ambassador observes to him: +“It was feared that you would have espoused the cardinal’s cause +in preference to that of the queen. You know your position: the +De Rohans accuse you of having run away with the remainder of +the Necklace.” He then suggests that the count, by surrendering +himself can do himself no harm, and might do the queen some +service, and undertakes to procure him a passport in eight or ten +days at the farthest. De la Motte of course wants money, or, at +any rate, hints that he does, and D’Adhémar promises him five or +six thousand livres. It is then arranged between them what the +count is to say in his defence. He is on no account to state that +the countess had access to the queen; neither is he to mention +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>anything about the letters said to have been sent by the queen to +the cardinal. De la Motte, playing with the ambassador like a cat +does with a mouse, does not see how he can acquit the queen; whereupon +the ambassador glides off to the cardinal, tells the count to +repeat all the indecent speeches he has heard him make respecting +her majesty, who will not be displeased at his so doing. He next +advises him to say nothing about De Polignac, Coigny, Vandreuil, +Dillon, or Fersen—all belonging to the queen’s society. “As to the +Necklace,” continues D’Adhémar, “I would advise you to say that +you are persuaded the cardinal gave it, partly or wholly, to your +wife. The countess will never allow that to be the case, but I am +certain it really was so. Finally, you must not say a single word +respecting the Baron de Breteuil.” The count suggests giving up +the countess’s necklace which Gray had set, and which by this +time must certainly have been in pawn, if not sold outright. This, +D’Adhémar says, would certainly please the king. Then advising +the count to change his name, and to avoid the tattling of the +<i>Courrier de l’Europe</i>, the ambassador brings the interview to a +close.</p> + +<p>Other interviews follow; the count no doubt bleeding the ambassador +from time to time pretty freely. Although he talked +enough about surrendering himself, it is tolerably certain he had +no intention of running that risk. Vergennes, moreover, believing +that the count’s presence might damage the cardinal’s cause, received +the proposition with coldness, and did not send the required +passport. D’Adhémar on one occasion showed Count de la Motte +the draft of a letter which he had sent to the king through the +Count de Vergennes, wherein he informed his majesty that the +count desired to surrender himself and justify the proceedings of +his wife. “I have, however, been tricked and betrayed by Vergennes,” +he remarked, “who kept back the letter until it was too +late, for judgment has now been pronounced.” D’Adhémar tells +the count that his presence in Paris is now more necessary than +ever. “The procureur-général is going to prefer a fresh complaint +against the cardinal for ‘criminal attempts’ upon the queen, for +the language he has used, the letters he has exhibited, the pretended +meetings by night, &c., and the Parliament will be by statute +obliged to try the Necklace affair over again in connection with the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>new charge.” On leaving the ambassador the count hastened to a +neighbouring coffee-house, where he sees a copy of the judgment +to which M. d’Adhémar had just referred, in the <i>Morning Post</i> +newspaper, and at once writes a savage letter to M. de Vergennes, +copies of which he sends to the English and French press.</p> + +<p>A few days afterwards, the ambassador’s secretary tells the count +that the queen has determined to abandon the new prosecution, on +account of the scandal it would create, but will contrive to deprive +the cardinal of his blue ribbon and places at court, and banish him +to herd with monks in the savage parts of Auvergne. At this +news, which indicates a stoppage of further supplies, Count de la +Motte is inconsolable, and feels, moreover, that he has been duped. +To let him down as gently as possible, the court protection is promised +him. For the future, however, the ambassador is “not at +home” to the count’s morning calls; neither does he take any +notice whatever of the count’s numerous letters.⁠<a id="FNanchor_377" href="#Footnote_377" class="fnanchor">[377]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The count, now grown indignant, threatens all manner of exposures, +and with his letters to the newspapers becomes a complete +nuisance to the representatives of the French government in England; +the ambassador, however, escapes further persecution, for +just at this moment he is summoned to Paris by his government, +who, after a time, relieve him of his diplomatic functions, and +appoint the Marquis de la Luzerne, brother of the old Bishop of +Langres, in his stead.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVI">XXXVI.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786. June–Dec.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE SALPÊTRIÈRE.—TRUCKLE-BED AND PRISON FARE.—THE +COUNT THREATENS THE FRENCH COURT.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>“As soon as Madame de la Motte arrived at the Salpêtrière,” +remarks Madame Robin, the then superior general of the hospital, +“she was taken to the registry where all our prisoners are enrolled +before they are sent to their several prisons: she remained near +three-quarters of an hour apparently without any knowledge of +what passed—totally insensible. A little after she came to herself, +I begged her to search her pockets and let me take her earrings. +She presented to me her right ear; she could not speak, and she +was so disfigured that her shape scarce appeared to be human, +yet she seemed patient as a lamb going to the fold. The <i>huissiers</i> +then crammed her into the same hackney-coach, and conveyed her +to the hall of the Salpêtrière. Before she entered the prison itself, +she was taken extremely ill, and we thought she would never +recover.</p> + +<p>“We seized the first moment when she appeared to be recovering, +and caused her to be placed by some of the sisters in a bed +one of the prisoners had given her, which was fortunate for Madame +de la Motte, otherwise she would have been under the necessity +of lying in a bed full of vermin with six of the poor old +women.”</p> + +<p>“The next day,” says Madame de la Motte, “a number of girls, +habited in the dress of daughters of charity, came to visit me in +crowds; they appeared and disappeared like lightning. The officiating +sister, Geneviève, whom I shall never forget, conducted me +to a small court to take the air, and left me to return to her business. +I was scarcely seated when I saw a very great number of +poor women coming out of a gate into this same court, making a +most dreadful clattering with their wooden shoes. As soon as they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>saw me they exclaimed, ‘Oh! there she is; there is the lady in +the court.’ These poor creatures, whose appearance spoke a variety +of wretchedness, approached and invited me to see the place destined +for my reception. Some of these women took me by the arm +and led me to what they called the dormitory, the place where +they slept and where they worked. I had no sooner entered the +door of this infernal mansion, than I recoiled with terror, but there +were many women behind, who prevented me from running back, +otherwise I should have fallen, so great was my horror at sight of +this hall, containing one hundred and twenty-seven women, whose +wretchedness may more easily be imagined than described. I +shrunk back at the sight of this hideous spectacle, while big tears +rolled down my cheeks, and with a voice stifled by the effect of +grief, I said, like a child insensible to what passed around me, +‘Poor Valois! oh, poor Valois!’</p> + +<p>“It will be extremely difficult for me to paint the horrors of this +dreadful mansion; every effort is inadequate to give with sufficient +strength of colouring the interior description of this house of +misery and its wretched inhabitants. One would have imagined +from their conduct and behaviour that these women had been +reared in the forests, for they were almost as wild and savage as +tigers, having always in their hands either stones, bottles, or chairs, +ready to throw at the head of any one that displeased them. +Every day teemed with new squabbles; they frequently fought +together, and would sometimes beat one another almost to death. +This prison was moreover a seminary of vice and depravity even +too shocking to mention, and, instead of a house for the salutary +correction of their souls, may more justly be denominated the +place of their destruction.</p> + +<p>“I will attempt to give a description of this abode of horrors. +The entry is by a small court about twenty feet broad and forty-four +in length. Opposite the entrance doors are seven dark cabins +under a gallery built upon pilasters. These cabins, or rather +dungeons, are in general between five and six feet long and four +and a half broad; in each there is a straw bed, a mattress, without +any furniture, not so much as a chair. Those women who +come thither, and have money, may purchase these cabins of the +old prisoners. In each of these cabins is a window about a foot +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>and a half square, with no glass, but very thick wooden shutters, +fastened with massive iron bolts. Below these shutters is another +small opening to let the air into these cabins. At the bottom of this +court, to the right, are four stone steps, after which is a little +passage which divides the great dormitory from the little court. +On the right is a small court leading to the great one, to serve as a +walk for one hundred and twenty-seven females, eighty feet long +and near sixty wide: the walls about sixty-two feet high. Opposite +the entrance gate of the court leading to the dormitory is a chamber +for one sister, to which there is an ascent of five steps.</p> + +<p>“Facing the little court is the gate of the dormitory, which is +very low. This dormitory is sixty feet long and thirteen broad: +the ceiling fortified with large strong joists; the wall strengthened +in the same manner. In this dormitory are six beds about five +feet in length, composed also of a truss of straw, a mattress, and +two coarse cloth coverings. Round the beds are benches and +some chairs. The right side of the window is filled with women +at work, who have purchased these places, as I also paid for mine, +for I had been obliged to sit down on the ground in the court, all +the places, forty in number, being occupied. The walls are entirely +surrounded with thick shelves, on which the women put their +victuals. Beneath this dormitory is another, the half of which is +below ground, where there are three or four beds in a better air +than the others. Upon the right is a corridor, three feet broad and +about seventy-five feet long, in which there are thirteen cabins +much the same as those of which I have before spoken, with low +unglazed windows and iron bars, so that the miserable inhabitants +have no defence from the inclemency of the seasons, but the +rain, wind, hail, and snow beat in upon the cabins. By mounting +upon the window sills, you may see even to the fourth court, which +is called the Court Sainte-Claire, where there are always a great +number of people. Facing the dormitory is a small staircase conducting +to a particular little court which leads into a square opposite +to the chapel of this same prison. On the right is the cell +of the superior sister, Martha. Going out on the right you come +to a court leading to the kitchen, where are three doors to enter +the Salpêtrière, on both sides of which there are turnkeys. As you +come out from the Salpêtrière there are seven courts, and in every +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>court there are a great number of turnkeys. On the left, opposite +the entrance passage by the Court Sainte-Claire, are two porticos, +leading to the three gates of the Salpêtrière. There are in all nine +courts, which you have to pass before you can leave the hospital.</p> + +<p>“The inhabitants of this den have an old petticoat for clothing, +and a gown of course grey cloth, stockings of the same kind, a +coarse shift, a pair of wooden shoes, and a cap. Every woman is +allowed thrice a week three ounces of boiled beef, on the other +days about two pennyworth of cheese, with fat broth, and five +pounds of bread each day. Such is the regulation allowance for +the sustenance of these wretches. Women, who before have scarce +ever had a needle in their hands, are here taught to work in a +short time. Some are taught to stitch wrist-bands, others to make +shirts and all kinds of plain work; their labours are, however, of +no advantage to them.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_378" href="#Footnote_378" class="fnanchor">[378]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Whilst the countess is doing dreary penance in the Salpêtrière, +and her husband is haunting the London “hells,” waiting the return +of the French ambassador from Paris, to know whether it was +intended to do <i>him</i> what he styles “justice,” a paragraph, no +doubt instigated by the count himself, appears in some of the +London newspapers, reproaching him for his timidity in not publishing +a certain justificatory memoir which had been talked about +for some time past. Indeed, so notorious had the matter become, +that the Duke of Dorset writes to Mr. Eden (afterwards Lord +Auckland), special envoy at the French court, under date December +7, 1786—a week before the appearance of the paragraph in +question—informing him that the Count de la Motte was about to +publish a memoir in England respecting the Necklace affair, which, +as it would be certain to contain nothing but falsehoods and +calumny, he advises the French government to get answered immediately +on its appearance by some clever fellow, and suggests +the editor of the <i>Courrier de l’Europe</i>, who is understood to be in +their pay, as a likely sort of person for the task.⁠<a id="FNanchor_379" href="#Footnote_379" class="fnanchor">[379]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span></p> + +<p>The count, who is getting rather fond of using his pen, finding +it a convenient weapon wherewith to insinuate his threats, +addresses a long letter to the papers in reply to the aforesaid paragraph, +and stating in explicit terms what he intends to do if this +“justice,” for which he is so anxious, is not speedily done him. It +did not, perhaps, occur to the count that the only justice he was +entitled to demand was that already meted out to him by the +highest legal tribunal in his country, namely, the Court of Parliament, +which had sentenced him to the scourge, the branding-iron, +and the galleys. This letter of the count’s we subjoin:</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="center">“To the Printer of the <i>Morning Chronicle</i>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">“Sir,</p> + +<p>“In consequence of a letter inserted in your print of the 13th +instant, I think myself called upon to interrupt a silence which I +meant to keep till the return of Comte d’Adhémar; but such a +conduct, in the actual state of affairs, would only serve to give +weight and add importance to the groundless reproaches of +timidity and indifference laid to my charge. It is incumbent on +me, in this answer to your correspondent, first to account for the +motives that have hitherto engaged me to silence, and then to +give a slight idea of the memorial I propose to lay before the public +for my justification.</p> + +<p>“I arrived in London on the 18th of last May, and have never +since moved from this capital. At that period—previous, as it +appears from the above date, to the conclusion of the famous process—I +had frequent interviews with the French ambassador. My +memorial will contain a circumstantial detail of what passed between +us at each appointment. From the line of conduct which +his excellency struck out for me, as well with respect to M. de +Vergennes as to my comportment before the Parliament of Paris, +and from the secret motives imparted to me of the various attempts +of taking me forcibly away, it will self-evidently appear +that the ambassador looked upon my departure not only as certain, +but that my presence, earnestly desired, and zealously solicited by +the most illustrious personages (whose names I shall mention), +would undoubtedly delay the sentence, and make the whole affair +wear a different aspect. What was the result? The very personages +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>alluded to, like Comte d’Adhémar, were imposed upon by a +minister who, in appearance, and for form sake, feigned to second +their endeavours, but who in reality overturned the structure, and +brought it to the ground by his wily manœuvres and contributed +alone to extricate the cardinal from the disagreeable situation in +which he was implicated. May a complete disgrace reward the +former for his officiousness! This is my ardent wish, and his +enemies will not fail to accelerate it by their reiterated solicitations. +But I resume the thread of my subject.</p> + +<p>“Notwithstanding all the instructions he had received, the +ambassador could not, no more than myself, foresee a sentence such +as has been awarded. He was the first to acquaint me with it, +and at the same time hinted at plans which could not but turn +greatly to my advantage, since they tended to give me an +opportunity (which was the first wish of my heart, and for the obtaining +of which I exerted every nerve) of appearing before the +Parliament, and entering upon my justification. His excellency +further assured me, that I should meet with powerful friends, +whose patronage would counterpoise all the credit and combined +efforts of the house of Rohan.</p> + +<p>“As those projects were never called into execution, and as the +supreme power, apprehensive of a minute explanation, pronounced +the cardinal’s fate, I thought it expedient, considering the promises +made to me, to wait the ambassador’s arrival, no ways doubting +but that, in consequence of his account of my conduct throughout +the whole business, some regard would be paid to it, and justice +done me. But if the answer I expect from his excellency be not +satisfactory—if my just demand be not acceded to, then I shall look +upon myself as free to act, and demonstrate by a detail, equally +true and well supported, by letters which I fortunately have in my +possession, and which will corroborate my assertion, why Mademoiselle +d’Oliva was chosen by me to play a part for half an hour, +not on the terrace, as was purposely given out, but in the interior +of the garden of Versailles. The world shall be informed of the +grand object of this rehearsal, as well as the catastrophe projected +for the first night’s representation, which, by-the-by, did not take +place, on account of the principal performer having been warned, +not indeed of all the snares laid to entrap him, but secretly put on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>his guard, not to expose himself imprudently in places where he +was liable to be surprised by his enemies, who would snatch at every +opportunity to effect his ruin. It will appear that, in consequence +of this caution, it was thought desirable to alter the plan, that it +gave rise to the purchasing of the Necklace (for which I shall +account in the clearest manner <i>by making special mention of its real +owner</i>, who made my wife a present of some of the most brilliant +diamonds, which I sold in London as my property), and kept by +much the more considerable part, which may be worn in different +manners, without ever being known by the jewellers: and why? +By the concatenation of those circumstances, which happened +pending the process, my wife and I were abandoned and inhumanly +sacrificed. These illustrations will convince the public that +certain caricature print-makers whom I know, and consequently +despise, aimed at deceiving the judgment, and prepossessing them +against me, by putting in my hand a Necklace, of which I had a +very small share.</p> + +<p>“That the readers may have nothing to wish for, and in order +to point out to them the causes of so tardy a revenge (which was +hatching without success, ever since the death of Louis XV.), I begin +my account at the era of the cardinal’s embassy at Vienna, and +trace every event that has taken place till the final decision of the +famous affair.</p> + +<p>“I am not to be told that my memorial, if published, will, by +the secret and curious anecdotes it contains, raise against me a +host of powerful foes, who will not fail to seek for, and meet with, +sufficient opportunity to wreak their vengeance on me. But what +of that? My intentions shall be fulfilled; and, whatever be my +fate, I shall have the comfort of having left behind me an authentic +justification, and of having unveiled the whole of the intrigue. +And who knows but I may be fortunate enough to hear one day +or other, for the good of my country, that my memorial has opened +the eyes of him who has been kept so long in the dark! But for +that I shall be told the memorial must not reach him, and all the +avenues will be strongly beset. I am aware of it. But on the +other hand, I shall observe that there exists a powerful party, +whose interests it is to forward it, who have been long employed in +working a mine, which only waits a favourable opportunity for explosion. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>To hasten this, if my memorial has, as it were, the effects +of a match, I shall look upon all the misfortunes I have encountered +as the path leading directly to that event, and shall +think myself sufficiently rewarded for the injuries and persecutions +I have experienced.</p> + +<p>“After this declaration, sir, I trust I shall be no longer reproached +with a timidity unknown to me; and that, considering +the infamous manner in which I have been treated, no one will +blame my just resentment.</p> + +<p>“I am, very sincerely, Sir,</p> + +<p class="center">“Your very humble servant,</p> + +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Count de la Motte</span>.</p> + +<p>“No. 10, Charlotte Street, Rathbone Place.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_380" href="#Footnote_380" class="fnanchor">[380]</a>⁠</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>That this letter may not fail in its effect, it is again published +in the same newspaper, two days afterwards, <i>in the original French</i>. +One can well conceive that the mail-bags that day carried a goodly +number of copies of the journal in question to the French capital, +and there can hardly be a doubt but that the count’s letter, +coupled with the note which the Duke of Dorset had addressed to +the English ambassador at the court of Versailles, and which had +been communicated to the French government, created considerable +consternation among the party of the queen.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVII">XXXVII.<br> +<span class="smcap">Dec., 1786–June, 1787.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">MYSTERIOUS HINTS GIVEN TO THE COUNTESS TO EFFECT HER ESCAPE.—SHE +RESOLVES ON ATTEMPTING IT.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>It must have been about this time that hints were given to +Madame de la Motte with reference to attempting to escape from +her confinement. Her own version of the manner in which these +hints were given is like most of her statements about herself, +strongly tinged with the romantic; still it is tolerably certain that +hints of some kind or another were given to her. She fixes the +date when these overtures commenced not later than the beginning +of December, 1786; but considering that she deferred her +attempt to escape until July of the following year, we should be +inclined to fix it at some later period, and certainly subsequent to +the time when the French court were made acquainted with the +letters just referred to. However, we will let her tell the story +in her own words:</p> + +<p>“It was about the latter end of November or the commencement +of December, 1786, that one of the soldiers, doing duty as +sentinel in the court of the Salpêtrière, to see that the women +made no holes in the dormitory to escape by the aqueducts, passed +the end of his musket through a broken part of the wall and +attempted to touch Angelica, who waited upon me as a servant, +and who was sentenced to be confined for life in the Salpêtrière. +‘What do you want with me?’ asked Angelica. ‘Is not your name +Angelica?’ said he, softly; ‘are you not the person who waits upon +Madame de la Motte?’ ‘Yes,’ replied she. ‘Very well,’ said he; +‘I heard many lords and ladies yesterday, in the Palais Royal, +mention your name as being the person who is so attentive to her. +Tell me if you want anything. I always carry about me an ink-stand, +paper, &c., which I will furnish you with, as I know you +have not permission to write. Prepare your letters, if you wish +to write to anybody, and I will take charge of them.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span></p> + +<p>“Angelica thanked him for his kindness, but frankly confessed +she could neither read nor write.</p> + +<p>“‘No matter,’ replied he, ‘there is your mistress, Madame de +la Motte; I would advise you to get her to write for you to the +different ladies who come here, and beg her to recommend you to +their goodness.’</p> + +<p>“Two days after this, about three in the morning, the same +soldier again touched Angelica with his musket, and gave her a +packet of gilt paper, a large bundle of quills, a bottle of ink, and +a letter for herself. ‘Madame de la Motte will read it to you,’ +said he. Next day Angelica brought me the letter, at every line +of which I was struck with such astonishment that I could scarce +believe my eyes. This mysterious letter was as follows:</p> + +<p>“Assure yourself, Mademoiselle Angelica, that I shall be extremely +happy if I can be instrumental in procuring your liberty. +Command me, and believe that I shall seize every opportunity of +being useful to you [and, immediately preceding the last line,] +‘<span class="smcap">Unfortunate</span>, put this letter before the light—<span class="smcap">’tis understood</span>—be +sure to be discreet.’</p> + +<p>“After having read to Angelica so much of this letter as concerned +her, I made use of some pretext to send her to the dormitory, +and the moment I was alone put the letter to the light, when +writing began to appear as if by the power of magic. At length +all was visible, and the following words astonished my eyes:</p> + +<p>“‘You are earnestly exhorted to keep up your spirits, and to +take proper nourishment, that you may have sufficient strength to +support the fatigue of your journey. <span class="smcap">People</span> are now intent upon +changing your condition. Speak your wishes, and mention the +day you are willing to depart, that a post-chaise may be prepared, +which you will find at the corner of the king’s garden. Be discreet; +’tis your interest to be so. Confide implicitly in the bearer, +without entertaining the smallest suspicion.’</p> + +<p>“Judge of my astonishment on perusing this mysterious paper! +Surely, said I to myself, I am awake, and in sober certainty of the +truth of what I see. But who can be the persons who have thus +interested themselves in my misfortunes? This singular expression, +‘It is understood,’ was never used by any person but myself, +the cardinal, and the queen. Perhaps they both, repenting of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span>what they have done, ashamed of having the weakness to suffer me +to be sacrificed, at this moment wish to give me liberty.”</p> + +<p>To this letter Madame de la Motte tells us she wrote an answer +to the effect that she was anxious to escape from her confinement, +and begged her unknown correspondent to aid her in the attempt. +In due course, she received the following reply:</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">People</span> have reflected; endeavour to procure the model of the +key that will open easily that side where you wish to go out. Act +for the best, and compose yourself.”</p> + +<p>“For two months,” she says, “I laboured at the attempt, and +at length succeeded in making two designs—one small and the +other large—in which I thought I had fortunately delineated the +wards of the key, and which, the moment I perceived to be perfect, +I enclosed in a letter, which I gave to Angelica to convey to the +soldier, who, about a fortnight afterwards, brought a key made exactly +after the paper model. I had the patience to wait two whole +days without sufficient resolution to make the experiment; but on +Sunday, between six and seven in the morning, when Angelica and +myself were together in the gallery, the opportunity seeming +favourable, with a trembling hand and palpitating heart I applied +the key to the lock, when, gracious heaven! what was my surprise +and joy at finding the door open! We both endeavoured as much +as possible to conceal our emotions, and proceeded to try whether +this same key would open the other three doors. In the afternoon +of the same day I pulled off my shoes and crept softly along to the +second door, which, to my great joy, was also obsequious to my +touch. I shut it again, ascended the steps softly by three at a +time, all in a tremble for fear of discovery, found, as I wished, all +was fast and everything quiet. I then attempted to open the door +on the other side of the gallery near the second dormitory. This +I did with wonderful facility, and with as little trouble as I had +opened the others.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_381" href="#Footnote_381" class="fnanchor">[381]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Strange to say that although, according to the countess’s own +account, she was in possession of the means of escape by the end +of February (1787) at the latest, she took no steps to profit by them +until three months afterwards, pretending that, in the interim, she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>had been engaged in using her influence with persons of condition +to procure the release of her attendant, Angelica, when all the +while she had the means of releasing her in her own possession. +However, the girl eventually obtains her pardon, and madame has +now leisure to attend to her own affairs.</p> + +<p>It was on the 1st of May that Angelica was set at liberty. On +the 13th the countess, who has long since found means of carrying +on communications with her former friends, sends a letter by the +hands of “a young <i>confidante</i>,” whom she has managed to gain +over, to an old lover of hers, the Baron de Crussol, the same who +procured the Count de la Motte his post in the Count d’Artois’ +body-guard, and who, with his brother, the Bailli de Crussol, were +of the queen’s set at Little Trianon. The baron played <i>Basile</i> in +Beaumarchais’ comedy, “The Barber of Seville,” at the private +theatre there, when Marie-Antoinette performed the part of <i>Rosina</i>. +This letter, which is all love and tenderness, contains the customary +appeal of the De Valois for pecuniary assistance. In the course +of it the countess tells the baron that the Duchess de Duras, “<i>dame +du palais</i>” to the queen, “a very virtuous and worthy woman,” is +going to pay her a visit next week, and then follows this characteristic +passage: “I shall see her alone; the public must not know +of it, as it might get talked about on account of my being forbidden +to see any one <i>for fear I should speak</i>.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_382" href="#Footnote_382" class="fnanchor">[382]</a> To return, however, to +the countess’s narrative. “I reflected within myself,” says she, +“that if I should run the hazard of going out in the dress of the +Salpêtrière, I should be easily discovered in the event of being met +by any of the sisters. I conceived also that a male habit would +be more favourable for my escape, and communicated this to my +unknown correspondent, to whom I wrote:</p> + +<p>“‘I wish to have a large blue coat, a flannel waistcoat, black +breeches, a pair of half-boots, a round high-crowned hat, to make +me appear taller, a switch, and a pair of leather gloves.’</p> + +<p>“All these the guard brought me about ten or twelve days after; +he carried the great-coat under his cloak, the waistcoat in his +pocket, and the switch in the barrel of his musket; and about two +nights after he brought the half-boots and a man’s shirt. Thus +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>furnished with wings for my flight, I was wholly intent on my +game, and, what is not a little singular, without the least fear of +not being able to effect my escape; not one shadow of doubt presented +itself to my imagination, nothing gave me the least uneasiness; +I felt myself quite confident of success, and I found myself +much happier than I had been for a long time. I reflected that I +was under the immediate protection of the queen, and would not +suffer myself to entertain a doubt that it was the queen herself, +and no one else, who had taken this interest in my behalf.</p> + +<p>“After a time, however, a feeling of apprehension came across +my mind and led me to suspect the sincerity of my unknown correspondent. +Surely, I thought to myself, this cannot be a plot concerted +to lull me to security that I may afterwards be more easily +got rid of. It cannot be so; they really wish to render me service, +there can be no doubt of it, since I have the key and the proper +dress; but whither will this post-chaise conduct me?—probably to +some convent; and does the queen suppose that I can be happy +there? I will never consent to go to a convent, and only to some +place where I can be free—where I am at liberty.</p> + +<p>“About this time I was not a little surprised by a visit from M. +de Crosne, lieutenant of police. About six o’clock one afternoon I +was conducted to Sister Martha’s apartment, where I saw M. de +Crosne, with M. Martin, secretary, and another person who was a +stranger. M. de Crosne at first did not know me; he appeared +much surprised and affected to find me so reduced, so altered for +the worse, and his sensibility deeply affected me. I read in his +face, as in a mirror, how different I then was from what I had been +when he formerly knew me. Affliction had worn me down almost +to a skeleton; my eyes were languid and inanimate. [The countess +used to pride herself on the killing effect of her eyes.] I was, as +it were, but the fleeting shadow of what I had once been in the +days of my prosperity. I stood for some moments unable to +articulate a single syllable. At length, awaking from my reverie, +I saluted him, when the amiable man kindly inquired if there was +anything I was in want of, as if so, he would give the necessary +orders.</p> + +<p>“At these words I quite lost myself, and forgetting every consideration +that should have restrained me, I drew near him, and repeated, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span>‘Want anything? Oh, sir, it is too much to bear—that I +should be thus confined!’ M. de Crosne, greatly affected, would +not suffer me to recite the melancholy catalogue of my woes, which +I was entering into with all the energy that grief inspired.</p> + +<p>“I could not help thinking that M. de Crosne was sent hither +expressly to see me, and the more I reflected upon this visit of his, +the more suspicious I became. I began to see that they were +fearful I should say too much, and that it was judged expedient +rather to endeavour to soothe than drive me to extremities; for if +I had really any ill-will, any grudge towards the queen, I thought +to myself, neither the Baron de Breteuil nor the lieutenant of +police would take the pains to favour me with the slightest attention.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_383" href="#Footnote_383" class="fnanchor">[383]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It should be noted that it was at this period, namely, early in +the month of May, that the Duchess de Polignac and her sister-in-law, +the Countess Diane, went to England, ostensibly to drink the +Bath waters, but really, it is believed, to come to terms with Count +de la Motte through the medium of their intimate friend the +Duchess of Devonshire.⁠<a id="FNanchor_384" href="#Footnote_384" class="fnanchor">[384]</a> One may here quote a bit of court +gossip contained in a letter dated Versailles, June 27, 1787, and +written to Stanislaus Poniatowski, king of Poland, to the effect +that, on the occasion of this visit, the Duchess de Polignac paid +Count de la Motte four thousand louis for certain letters said to +have been written by the queen. If there is any truth in the story, +these were in all probability copies of the letters purporting to +have been written by Marie-Antoinette, together with the cardinal’s +replies, and which were afterwards published in the Appendix to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>the Countess’s Life.⁠<a id="FNanchor_385" href="#Footnote_385" class="fnanchor">[385]</a> Of this visit of the Duchess de Polignac we +shall again have occasion to speak.</p> + +<p>At length the countess takes her final resolution, and fixes upon +some day between the 8th and the 11th of June, either at eleven +o’clock in the morning or six o’clock in the evening, for her escape. +The arrangement was this: the guard was to disguise himself as a +waggoner, and with a whip in his hand, was to walk round the +King’s garden (the Jardin des Plantes) at the times specified on +each of the above-mentioned four days. The attendant who had +succeeded Angelica, and whom the countess was obliged to take into +her confidence, begged that she might be permitted to accompany +her. After some hesitation, the countess gave her consent.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVIII">XXXVIII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1787. June–July.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE COUNTESS’S ESCAPE.—A LAST VISIT TO THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF +BAR-SUR-AUBE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>On the morning of the 11th of June, the last of the four appointed, +days, “Marianne and I, before our departure, took each of us a cup +of coffee to revive our spirits and give us courage. I then proceeded +to open the doors, three of which I fastened again with my +key, and the fourth Marianne pulled towards her. Marianne, who +knew the house perfectly well, took the shortest turnings she could +find, believing that I was following her. I, however, managed to +lose sight of her; nevertheless, I did not lose my courage, but +passed on until I found myself in a large hall wherein were a great +number of small beds in each of which was a child. After having +cast my eyes round me, I inquired of the sisters the way out. I +did not well understand the directions they gave me, but, after +traversing many courts, found myself at length in a spacious court +among a number of people who had come to gratify their curiosity +with a sight of this prison. I followed a party who entered the +chapel to view it, taking care to mix myself up with the rest of the +company. After addressing a fervent prayer to heaven to inspire +me with courage, I soon had the gratification of finding myself +outside those doors which I had always looked on as impassable. +Here I saw no one but the sisters, to whom I gave some money as +though I were an ordinary visitor, and at length fortunately +reached the high road. Here after some delay I discovered my +good Marianne waiting for me near the river.⁠<a id="FNanchor_386" href="#Footnote_386" class="fnanchor">[386]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“The King’s garden was crowded with people, but I fortunately +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span>managed to escape observation, and leaped into the boat to Marianne, +who was already there with two strange gentlemen. Fearful +of a discovery, I made signs to her not to speak to me. The two +gentlemen were seated; but lest my awkwardness in my new habiliments +should be discovered, I remained standing. At length we +gained the opposite bank, and upon our landing near the arsenal, +that hideous place, the Bastille, opposed itself to my view. Marianne +conducted me through byways and narrow streets until we +found a hackney-coach which took us to Charenton. On arriving +there we stopped at a bootmaker’s to exchange my half-boots for a +pair of shoes, after which we hired a cabriolet, which conveyed us a +distance of seven leagues. We then alighted, and walked till half-past +eleven o’clock at night.</p> + +<p>“We slept at a village called Maison-Rouge, and at six the next +morning pursued our journey on foot till ten in the evening, when +we stopped a few hours to repose ourselves. Here I inquired +whether I could have a cabriolet. I could not, however, be thus +accommodated. We were, therefore, obliged to take a cart, which +conducted us about two miles from Provins. About five in the +evening we stopped at the first cabaret and dined, and after dinner, +fearful of being suspected by the marshalsea, I despatched Marianne +to purchase women’s apparel. She returned with a jacket of +narrow-striped red cotton, an apron of the same stuff, a petticoat +striped blue and white, a pair of leather shoes, such as are worn by +peasants, and a pair of very small buckles. We departed from this +inn at six the same evening.</p> + +<p>“The town of Provins was about sixteen leagues from Paris, but +I did not judge it prudent to take the coach from here, there being +no other conveyance besides the post, which I wished as much as +possible to avoid. We proceeded towards the back of the town, +where we met a great number of officers walking together, one of +whom I overheard say: ‘Oh! there’s a woman in man’s clothes.’ +When they drew nearer they pulled off their hats, and begged permission +to accompany me. One of these gentlemen’s professions of +service were so very profuse that I found it extremely difficult to +engage him to desist from following me. ‘You are,’ said he, ‘some +young girl but just escaped from a convent, and your lover is certainly +near at hand waiting for you in a post-chaise.’ ‘If such is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span>your opinion, sir,’ replied I, ‘it is very impolite of you to think of +following me, particularly as you have no right to expect that I +should confess to you, if you should be right in your conjecture.’ +At this he withdrew. I turned towards the left, under a hill, and +not being able to find a place more retired, we concealed ourselves +under a verdant recess, where a brook of water ran down towards +the meadow. Here Marianne and I assumed our new disguise, +which made us appear exactly like peasants, each of us holding in +our arms a little basket of eggs, and a pound of butter neatly +covered with a piece of linen, which was bought for that purpose. +I threw my former apparel into the brook, putting stones into the +coat pockets and the hat, that they might sink more easily, and +that no trace of my flight might be discovered. We went five +leagues on foot the same evening, and stopped, about eleven o’clock, +at the first house of entertainment in the suburbs of Nogent,⁠<a id="FNanchor_387" href="#Footnote_387" class="fnanchor">[387]</a> which +is about two-and-twenty leagues from Paris. Here again I was so +much fatigued that, after our supper, poor Marianne was obliged to +put me upon her shoulders, and bring me into the cow-house, and +lay me on the straw, for there was neither bed nor chamber.</p> + +<p>“The day after, about seven, we hired a cart, which conveyed us +directly to Troyes, about nine leagues from Nogent, where we slept +till four the next morning, when we again pursued our journey on +foot. On our road we met a waggoner, who civilly asked us to get +up into his cart, a proposal which we readily accepted. He conveyed +us to the town where he lived, about two leagues distant, +but this honest rustic would receive no money;⁠<a id="FNanchor_388" href="#Footnote_388" class="fnanchor">[388]</a> he would have no +other recompense than a promise of marriage, which I was constrained +to give him. I told him that I and my cousin Marianne +had lived at Chaumont, in Champagne, and gave him a fictitious +name and address. On parting with him we were fortunate enough +to procure a farmer’s cart, which took us to Vendeuvre, where we +dined, and about two we set forward again in a covered carriage, +which conveyed us seven leagues further. We passed through Bar-sur-Aube, +and at six we were put down at a village about three +leagues from there.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span></p> + +<p>“When I arrived at this place I wrote letters to some of my husband’s +relations, with which I sent Marianne, who could not find +many of the persons in whom I confided. She went to seek a friend +of Madame de la Tour, sister of M. de la Motte, to whom she sent +in my note. This lady immediately knew my writing, and ran to +her wardrobe, and gave Marianne petticoats, shifts, handkerchiefs, +with half a louis, which was all she had in her pocket, and greatly +regretted that she had it not in her power to do more. She then +accompanied her to M. de Suremont, M. de la Motte’s uncle. This +gentleman’s wife, after having coldly received Mdlle. Charton, +which was this young lady’s name, and Marianne, refused to come +and see me. M. de Suremont sent Marianne to desire me to meet +him half way. A place was appointed, and it was about midnight +when we met. The night was extremely dark, and we sat +down on the bank of a ditch. M. de Suremont appeared very glad +to see me, but expressed his extreme regret that he could not accommodate +me with more than four louis, telling a very lamentable +story that his buildings had cost him so much money, and that he +was very much in debt. ‘But pray where are you going?’ said he +to me. ‘I am going to London,’ replied I, ‘for the English newspapers +have for a long time mentioned my husband’s name; I dare +say he is there.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_389" href="#Footnote_389" class="fnanchor">[389]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The countess makes no mention in her narrative of another of +her Bar-sur-Aube friends coming to see her while she lay concealed +in the stone quarries outside the town—the mother of young +Beugnot, to whom, in her days of affluence, the countess had given the +surplus of twenty louis for her poor pensioners. This noble-hearted +lady came out at night to comfort the wretched wanderer whom +she believed to be innocent, and gave her all the consolation which +a pious mind could suggest in a case so deplorable, returned her +the twenty louis with some addition of her own, and parted with +her like a Christian sister.⁠<a id="FNanchor_390" href="#Footnote_390" class="fnanchor">[390]</a> Such was the singular hold which this +extraordinary woman seems to have had on the human heart, which +began when she was a barefooted beggar on the public highway, +and continued even when she was a branded outcast.</p> + +<p>“I did not,” continues the countess, “consider it prudent to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span>return to the same inn which we had quitted at midnight, as I +feared our being suspected, or taken for thieves, with which all the +environs of Chaumont are greatly infested, I therefore chose to walk +the remaining part of the night. The moon, which was at full, +made it extremely pleasant. We proceeded nearly a mile and a +half, but had not advanced far into the forest before we determined +to return again towards the town. We knocked at the first carbaret +we came to, but the people not only refused to open the door, but +threatened to shoot us, taking us, without question, for thieves. +Shivering with cold, we were necessitated to take up our lodging +on the steps of their door till the next morning, and at this season +the nights were extremely cold, and the country wore almost the +appearance of winter. About six in the morning three peasants +and a woman passed by, who had two large dogs with them. I +related to them our situation, and we traversed the forest together +as far as Columbey, where we parted. Having breakfasted, we took +the post, which conveyed us seven leagues further. At six the +next morning we recommenced our journey on foot. The day was +terribly hot, and we suffered severely in climbing the mountain, +which is extremely steep, and very high, without any shelter from +the intense heat. Marianne, who was very much troubled with +shortness of breath, and incapable of proceeding any farther, sat down +and wept bitterly till, fortunately, a good old peasant, who was on +horseback, offered to take her behind him, to which she would not +consent; but, as his house was but a short distance, she agreed to +take the good old man’s arm, while I seated myself on the horse. +Taking Marianne’s bundle, I gave the reins to the horse, who +brought me to the house before his master, where the old man’s +daughter, who was lately married, recognized the beast. I briefly +related to her the circumstance which procured me the pleasure of +seeing her, whereupon she despatched one of her sisters to the +curate’s house to fetch some fish, and some of the best wine from +another neighbour. Marianne was also well received. We were +afterwards presented to the husband; and this good family lodged +us with kindness. Not only did they regale us with a good supper +of pigeons, and excellent fish, and delicious wine, but they accommodated +us with their own bed, where we slept soundly for six +hours. After a good breakfast we departed at ten in their cart to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span>reach Joinville, these good people refusing to receive a single +son for their entertainment.</p> + +<p>“The keeper of a carbaret where we had sought shelter from a +violent storm consented to conduct us as far as Nancy; and the +rain having subsided, we availed ourselves of this proposal of our +host, and continued our journey till we came into the midst of the +most dismal forest I ever saw. It seemed a place perfectly adapted +for the black business of robbery or murder. Here another terrible +storm came on, and we travelled in the midst of a heavy shower +for almost two hours and a quarter. It was now near ten o’clock, +and we were still in a hollow, one side of which bordered another +forest reputed to be most dangerous, and along the skirts of which +our road lay for a distance of some miles. I could not but feel +alarmed, and what added to my fears was, that I had not the least +knowledge of that road. Our conductor was also a very ill-looking +fellow, and his conduct was such, that though I cannot say he had +really any bad design, yet his behaviour was sufficiently equivocal to +make me suspicious. After a dreary ride of a couple of hours I +discovered a light: it is impossible to express how welcome that +discovery was, as it dispelled those apprehensions which the darkness +of the night had made more terrible. Our guide now composed +himself a little, and told me he was going to bait his horse, +after which we might pursue our journey. ‘Most certainly,’ replied +I; but when we arrived at the inn, which was at about midnight, +I determined to take some rest.</p> + +<p>“We sat down to supper, and I told our guide that we did not +choose to expose ourselves any more that night, as his horse seemed +to be so much fatigued. This determination did not seem agreeable +to him; he stormed and swore, but all to no purpose. ‘I am +determined,’ said I resolutely, ‘not to proceed till six o’clock in the +morning.’ We did, indeed, set out an hour sooner, but then there +was no danger; though, when he put us down upon an eminence +on the side of Nancy, I really thought he seemed to quit us with +an air of regret at having failed of his prey. After having dined at +Nancy, we took a voiture, which conducted us to Lunéville, where +we stopped and slept at the Hôtel du Saint-Esprit, from whence the +next morning I wrote to M. Aminot, my cousin, an officer in the +gendarmes. I took the precaution not to sign my name to this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span>billet, in which I merely mentioned that a lady, one of his father’s +acquaintances, wished to communicate some news from his family. +Upon the receipt of my billet he did not lose a moment, but +followed Marianne, who introduced him to my chamber. He approached +me: ‘Really, madame,’ said he, ‘I have not the honour +to recollect you.’ ‘Do you not know your unhappy cousin?’ said I. +I could utter no more; my sensations checked my tongue. He also +appeared greatly astonished. ‘Is it possible, my dear cousin,’ +said he, ‘that this can be you?’ He then embraced me affectionately, +but his joy at meeting me could only be equalled by his surprise. +The evening before my arrival, he had received letters from +Paris, one of which he showed me, which mentioned my surprising +escape from the Salpêtrière, observing, that there were flying reports +that the queen had facilitated my escape. My cousin and I +spent two or three days together; and as I communicated to him +my desire to pass through Switzerland, though without explaining +my motive, he gave me in writing the plan of my route, which +was by Luxembourg. After this interval of rest, Marianne and I +pursued our journey, at five in the morning, on foot. We went +eleven leagues this day; and the next, not being able to procure a +coach, we were obliged to walk nine leagues further. After this +fatigue I really was fearful that I should lose my companion, who +was most violently attacked with asthma; and for five days the +physician and surgeon were doubtful of her recovery. As soon as +Marianne was in a condition to support herself, we took a voiture +for Metz, where we slept, and the next day departed for Thionville, +about ten leagues from thence. The diligence put us down at the +sign of the ‘Three Kings,’ kept by one Phillips.”</p> + +<p>This inn appears to have been a regular place of resort for the +officers quartered in the town, and the countess pretended that, +owing to certain consequential airs she indiscreetly gave herself, her +incognito was more than suspected by these gentlemen, who importuned +her with their visits and invitations to prolong her stay in +the town, which of course only made her the more anxious to get +away.</p> + +<p>“We proceeded on our journey,” resumes Madame de la Motte, +“and slept at Etauche; and the next day we departed in a tilted +carriage. My intention was to go into Switzerland, and to remain +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span>a short time at some frontier town, from whence I could write to +M. de la Motte, conceiving this was the only chance of being +secure, and that Providence, which had so long guided and supported +me, now granted me my wish, and directed me to an hospitable +mansion inhabited by the most worthy, the most charitable of +beings.”</p> + +<p>Here they stopped to bait their horses, and were pressed by the +hostess to stay. “‘If, madam,’ observed she, ‘you have any fears +of being upon French ground, instantly dismiss them; nobody has +any power over you here.’ ‘I have no fear,’ replied I; ‘but I am +in want of money, and wish to write to my family.’ ‘Very well,’ +replied this good creature, ‘for that very reason I insist that you +shall remain with me; you can write from hence.’ About two +days after I wrote to M. de la Motte, under cover to Mr. McMahon, +his friend in London, to which I received an answer in about ten +days, to the effect that he would make inquiries for some proper +person that he could trust, whom he would send to fetch us as +soon as possible. Three weeks, however, passed away without any +emissary from my husband. At this time my good hostess had +no idea who I was: a report gained ground, and even reached the +military society at Luxembourg, that there was a person at the +house of Madame Schilss with a tall, stout girl, who perfectly +answered the description of Madame de la Motte and the girl Marianne. +I was every day visited by a great number of officers, +both old and young, then residing in the village, who constantly +prefaced their visits with expressions of condolence, observing how +very dull it must be for me to be alone in a place so destitute of +amusement. The Chevalier de Curel, of a family at Langres, appeared +to be one of those most officious in circulating the report +that I was the Countess de la Motte, which made me tremble for +the consequences, and I conceived that, by associating my hostess +in my confidence, she might find some means of silencing these +reports. I therefore trusted her, leaving everything to her discretion. +This good lady rendered me very essential service; for when +persons came to make inquiries of her, she amused them with +different stories, and at the same time enjoyed the most profound +secrecy on every one of them.</p> + +<p>“These reports made me extremely unhappy, particularly as I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span>had not received any further news from London, though the letter +which I had received led me to hope that I should shortly have +another to apprise me of the day when somebody would come to +fetch me. At length, about the 27th of July, in the afternoon, a +lady and gentleman came to inquire for me. Madame Schilss, informed +that I had been long in expectation of some persons from +England, was very well pleased. She introduced them as persons +she could trust, and my own confidence was increased when the +lady presented me with a letter from M. de la Motte.”</p> + +<p>Accompanied by this lady, who proved to be Mrs. McMahon, +Madame de la Motte travelled first of all to Brussels and from +there to Ostend, whence, after a forty-two hours’ passage, the pair +arrived safe at Dover.</p> + +<p>“At seven we took the route for London,” continues Madame de +la Motte, “where we arrived at seven the next morning, and at +nine my eyes were greeted by the sight of M. de la Motte. It is +not my intention,” remarks the countess in her most sentimental +vein, “to attempt to describe those mutual transports which +glowed in either bosom at this interview. The situation, the circumstances +of the parties, will raise corresponding emotions in the +bosom of sensibility which will convey my idea more strongly than +all the pomp of diction that may captivate the ear, but not impress +the soul.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_391" href="#Footnote_391" class="fnanchor">[391]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIX">XXXIX.<br> +<span class="smcap">Aug. 1787–April, 1789.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">IN LONDON.—THE COUNTESS GIVES UP FORGERY AND +TAKES TO CALUMNY.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>“I remained a fortnight,” continues Madame de la Motte, “at +the house of Mrs. McMahon, in the Haymarket, without venturing +abroad to take the air, fearing lest I should be discovered. Every +coffee-house in the neighbourhood of this place was filled with persons, +many of whom were foreigners, eager to gratify their curiosity +by seeing me. To prevent the inconvenience of being stared and +pointed at, my friend, Mrs. McMahon, contrived to take me out +about nine or ten o’clock in the evening.”</p> + +<p>The countess tells us that she found her husband in great distress, +waiting impatiently the moment when his unfeeling uncle +and aunt, Monsieur and Madame de Suremont, would send over +such property of his as remained in their hands. The count had +not long to wait, it appears, for the De Suremonts arrived in London +a few days after Madame de la Motte, when they delivered to +him a “ring, which had formed the stud of the Necklace; a watch-chain +which,” says the count, “I sold for fifty pounds sterling; +and a box I had taken in exchange, and which I sold to Gray for +sixty pounds. Restoring these three articles, they told me that +they were all they had been able to preserve of our jewels. Having +had full leisure to invent these falsities, and persuaded that I could +not have been informed of their conduct and the depredations they +had committed on my property, they spared no pains to convince +me of the truth of what they said, which would indeed have appeared +reasonable had my intelligence not been so well founded.</p> + +<p>“Affecting to be satisfied with what they had delivered to me, +I, the same day, procured a writ to be issued, hoping thereby to +frighten them into a surrender of the remaining jewels; but they +imagining, from the inquiries they had made, and the advice they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span>had received, that I could not by any means molest them, pretended +to show the utmost indignation at my conduct, and finally +declared that they had nothing left belonging to me; that they had +sold every article; and that, could they have foreseen the ingratitude +I now evinced towards them, they would have given up all my +jewels to the government.</p> + +<p>“Judging from their resolute tone that something more than +words was requisite to bring them to a sense of justice, I insisted +no farther, but, urged by necessity, put the writ into the hands of +a sheriff’s officer, who soon after, though much to my regret, +arrested my uncle, a man of property, childless, enjoying the first +offices in the place of his residence, and possessing the esteem of +all its inhabitants, and whom I really respected. The case was +otherwise with his beloved consort, a despicable woman, detested +by all who knew her, who, I am certain, had prevailed upon her +husband to be guilty of such a piece of meanness and injustice. +The moment she saw him arrested she came to me, urging my acceptance +of bills to the amount of my claims, still assuring me she +had nothing of mine, and that she was going to part with some of +her own property to purchase her husband’s release. Finding she +could not make me accede to the terms she proposed, she ended +by acknowledging everything, and departed to fetch what she had +asserted upon oath had been surrendered to government.</p> + +<p>“On her return she gave up two rings that had belonged to the +Necklace, a pair of drop earrings (out of which she had taken four +diamonds, which I only perceived after we parted), a hoop ring, a +neck-button, a hair-ring, set round with stones, and another ring +of small value. The day after this forced restitution my relations +returned to their own home, where they have shared the remainder +of the spoil; I have not heard of them since, excepting being informed, +in a circumstantial manner, of all the havoc they have +made in my house at Bar-sur-Aube, and of the contempt they have +drawn upon themselves by their behaviour to me.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_392" href="#Footnote_392" class="fnanchor">[392]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The count informs us that he sold the articles which he so fortunately +recovered to Gray the jeweller, who, spite of the part he +took in the Necklace trial, was still ready enough to buy any more +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span>diamonds that the De la Mottes had to sell. The amount which +the count received for these trinkets—all that remained to them of +the famous Necklace—was two thousand two hundred pounds, a +mere per-centage on the sixty thousand pounds at which the matchless +jewel was originally valued, but still a nice enough little sum +of money for people in a “hard-up” condition. True, it would not +go very far in supporting even an approach to that state to which +the De la Mottes had accustomed themselves, and which the hard +fare and dismal cells of the Salpêtrière had not entirely destroyed +madame’s taste for. Unfortunately “some people having learned +that the count’s relations had brought him nearly sixty thousand +livres’ worth of diamonds, eager to share the spoil, swore false +debts against him. I myself,” says madame, “saw him arrested +five times for different sums. M. de la Motte’s attorney availed +himself of this, and advised him, to use his own expression, to rid +himself at once of these troublesome scoundrels by giving a gratuity +of two hundred louis to one and one hundred and fifty louis +to another, while eighty louis were given to an attorney who had +never once appealed to the laws in favour of his unfortunate client, +from whom he had frequently received different sums to extricate +him from real or fictitious embarrassments.”</p> + +<p>Such being the state of affairs means have to be found to replenish +the almost empty exchequer. The count has recourse, no +doubt, to the gaming-table, for all his life he has been an inveterate +gambler. The countess, on whom her sentence has had this +wholesome effect, it had cured her of her propensity for forgery and +theft, bethinks herself that calumny, if the envenomed shaft be +only skilfully aimed, might yield a golden prize. This contemplated +slandering of the queen “was an arrow I still preserved,” +says Madame de la Motte, “as the best in my quiver, resolving to +threaten, but not to shoot till reduced to the very last extremity.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_393" href="#Footnote_393" class="fnanchor">[393]</a> +In pursuance of this resolution, rumours are wafted abroad—care +being especially taken that they shall cross the Channel and penetrate +to the royal apartments at Versailles—to the effect that the +Countess de la Motte is engaged in writing her “Mémoires,”—the +very titles of the chapters of which she had managed to get published +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span>in the English newspapers,—wherein she intends to give “an +exact detail of the extraordinary events which contributed to raise +her to the dignity of confidant and favourite of the Queen of +France, with some further particulars relative to the mysterious +transaction of the Diamond Necklace.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_394" href="#Footnote_394" class="fnanchor">[394]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>If Count de la Motte is to be believed, the Duchess de Polignac +made at this period a second visit to England, again “to drink the +Bath waters.” Our opinion, however, is that, either by accident or +design, he has put forward the date of the visit (which it is quite +certain the duchess made early in May, returning to France at the +end of June)⁠<a id="FNanchor_395" href="#Footnote_395" class="fnanchor">[395]</a> for upwards of a month; for Madame de la Motte, +according to her own statement, did not arrive in England until +the early part of August. Either the case is as we have suggested, +or else the countess arrived in England more than a month earlier +than she represents herself to have done. Supposing this to be +the fact, the visit of the duchess now alluded to would be the +same visit of which we have already spoken.⁠<a id="FNanchor_396" href="#Footnote_396" class="fnanchor">[396]</a> The count in his +autobiography states that, soon after his wife arrived in London, +he received a message from the Duchess of Devonshire (the beautiful +Georgiana), begging him to call upon her at Devonshire House. +The count goes there, and on being introduced into the drawing-room +is presented to the Duchess de Polignac and her sister the +Countess Diane, who observe to him that, having come over to +drink the Bath waters, and having heard that Madame de la Motte +proposed publishing some memoirs, they thought they might perhaps +be of service to her—in other words, might save her from +fresh persecutions, and insure her the means of an honourable existence +for the future.</p> + +<p>On the count communicating all this to his wife, she immediately +resolved, he says, to leave London with the least possible delay, +for she feels certain that the intention is to kidnap her and +take her back to the Salpêtrière, and threatens she will throw herself +into the Thames if her husband will not leave London with her +that very day. The count, knowing that she was quite capable of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span>carrying out her threat, wrote to the Duchess of Devonshire, explaining +his wife’s fears, and informing the duchess of her resolution. +De la Motte, in answer to the Abbé Georgel’s assertion that +Madame de Polignac bought the MS. of the “Mémoires,” affirms +that at this time not a line of them was written, and never would +have been written, had it not been for M. de Calonne (madame’s +old friend and ex-controller-general), who called a few days afterwards +and suggested that the “Mémoires” should be at once +written, so as to profit by the offer of the queen. With this view he +introduced to them a M. de la Tour, a writer in the <i>Courrier de +l’Europe</i> to throw their rough notes into shape; and in consequence +the countess at once set to work, and produced her +celebrated “Mémoires Justificatifs.” Supposing this statement +to be true, the chances are, that the Duchess de Polignac, in the +settlement she made with the De la Mottes, provided for these +memoirs never seeing the light. In one of those letters of court +gossip, from which we have made frequent quotations, it is explicitly +stated that Madame de Polignac was assured that “these +writings would not appear.” The queen, who was no doubt gratified +at the success which she believed had attended the Duchess’s +negotiations, had all the apartments of the latter newly furnished +at her own expense just before the duchess’s return from her +mission, and went, accompanied by the king, to sup with her on +the evening of her arrival.⁠<a id="FNanchor_397" href="#Footnote_397" class="fnanchor">[397]</a> One can plainly see that the spirit +which pervades this book of Madame de la Motte’s was prompted +by an axiom of which she is herself the author, and which is to be +found in the second volume of her “Life.” “<i>No calumny</i>,” says she, +“<i>is so certain to be believed as that which one woman propagates +against another</i>.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_398" href="#Footnote_398" class="fnanchor">[398]</a> In the midst of the long string of infamous +slanders in these so-called Justificatory Memoirs, with which the +writer has sullied for all time the name of a noble-hearted, if somewhat +erring woman, there occurs this passage: “If the Queen of +France were not what she is, should I have been to her what a defenceless +bird is in the hands of a froward child, who, after being +amused with it for a few moments, strips it of its feathers one by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span>one, and then throws it into the destructive talons of a devouring +animal?” Most people, after reading these “Mémoires Justificatifs,” +will be inclined to reverse the application of the above +simile, and will look upon poor Marie-Antoinette as the defenceless +bird, and seek for the devouring animal, with its destructive talons, +in Jeanne de St. Remi de Valois.</p> + +<p>When the MS. of these “Mémoires” was completed, it was sent +to M. de Calonne, who, according to the count, altered it to suit +his own purposes. Madame says that the ex-minister even added +indecent expressions against the queen—his aim being to get recalled +to France and to secure the restoration of the blue ribbon of +which he had been deprived. With this object in view, armed +with the De la Motte libel, the ex-minister writes to Versailles, +offering terms. The queen, however, rejects his proposal with disdain. +Calonne now desires to have the MS. printed without delay, +and for this purpose orders type and presses to be sent to the +house where the De la Mottes reside, so that the work may be done +in all secrecy.</p> + +<p>During its progress, the ex-controller-general seems to have +carried on an intrigue of another kind with the countess, and one +which was, moreover, so notorious as to be openly referred to in +the scandalous publications of the time.⁠<a id="FNanchor_399" href="#Footnote_399" class="fnanchor">[399]</a> He used to twit her +about the branding she had received, and on one occasion, when the +countess was boasting in a large assembly of the capital hand she +held at picquet, he spitefully observed she had better be careful, +or she would certainly be <i>marked</i>.⁠<a id="FNanchor_400" href="#Footnote_400" class="fnanchor">[400]</a> Some little misunderstanding +which occurred between the pair made them thenceforth at daggers-drawn +with each other.</p> + +<p>Just about this time, a new ambassador from the French court +arrives in England—the Marquis de la Luzerne, brother of the +Bishop of Langres, the countess’s early patron, and reputed lover. +He has heard of Calonne’s proceedings, and loses no time in sending +an envoy to the De la Mottes, to point out to them that +Calonne will be certain to play them false, and to make arrangements +for an interview. Calonne gets scent of what is going on, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[320]</span>and tries to carry off the MS., but does not succeed. The interview +with the ambassador takes place; Count de la Motte shows +M. de Luzerne the MS., with Calonne’s corrections and interlineations, +and it is arranged that the ambassador shall make a definitive +proposition so soon as he has received instructions from +Paris. Calonne hears of this interview, goes to the De la Mottes, +and demands the restitution of the MS.; threatening all the +terrors of the law if they do not comply. The count remains +firm, and madame, by the aid of an English naval officer, who subsequently +translated her “Mémoires” into English, shows up the +ex-French minister of finance in a pamphlet, which she styles, “A +Scourge for Calonne,” and which goes off like wildfire, copies +fetching as much as six louis each in Paris on its first appearance.⁠<a id="FNanchor_401" href="#Footnote_401" class="fnanchor">[401]</a> +The Marquis de la Luzerne, having received his instructions, +communicates them to the count. He is commissioned to make +an offer of ten thousand livres a year, with fifty thousand livres +down, to enable the De la Mottes to discharge their more pressing +debts. The countess, according to her husband’s account, +is opposed to accepting this very liberal offer, talks very big about +her position before the world, clearing her character, &c.; the +count, however, thinking that the solid pudding is to be preferred +to all this, over-persuades his wife, and they give their +acquiescence. The money is to be speedily forthcoming; but, unfortunately, +one of those proverbial slips between the cup and the +lip now chances. Cardinal-Archbishop Loménie de Brienne is dismissed +from his office of prime minister, and M. Necker is summoned +to occupy his place, and M. Necker will have nothing whatever +to do with a De la Motte negotiation in any shape or form. +Such is the count’s version of this affair of the “Mémoires,” but, +like everything else from the De la Motte mint, it must be received +with suspicion.⁠<a id="FNanchor_402" href="#Footnote_402" class="fnanchor">[402]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>When or how the MS. of these “Mémoires,” of Madame de la +Motte’s was sold to the French court, we have no means of ascertaining; +but that it was sold, and that after the sale the +“Mémoires” were published in breach of good faith, is a moral +certainty. In all probability the Duchess de Polignac negotiated +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span>the purchase, which was likely enough carried out through the +medium of the French ambassador, the statement about M. Necker +being a falsehood concocted to conceal the fact of any sale of the +MS. taking place. Madame Campan asserts, in the most solemn +manner, that she herself had seen, “in the queen’s hands, a +manuscript of the infamous memoirs of the woman Lamotte, which +had been brought to her from London, and which were corrected +by the very hand of M. de Calonne in all those places where a +total ignorance of the usages of the court had made this wretch +commit the most palpable errors.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_403" href="#Footnote_403" class="fnanchor">[403]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In the doubtful Lamballe Memoirs this Princess is represented +as giving a most circumstantial account of her having become the +purchaser of a printed copy of Madame de la Motte’s “Mémoires +Justificatifs” corrected by the hand of M. de Calonne, and of the +existence of which she was first made acquainted by a letter +addressed to her by Sheridan. This occurred immediately subsequent +to a visit paid by her to England where she went on two +occasions—once during July 1787,⁠<a id="FNanchor_404" href="#Footnote_404" class="fnanchor">[404]</a> and a second time in June +1791.⁠<a id="FNanchor_405" href="#Footnote_405" class="fnanchor">[405]</a> On the receipt of the work in question she delivered it, +she says, to the queen, who at once brought it beneath the notice +of Louis XVI. in proof of Calonne’s villainy. Had the princess’s +narrative stopped here we might have felt disposed to put faith in +it, but, unfortunately for its claims to be regarded as authentic, it +goes on to say that the king forthwith indignantly ordered +Calonne to resign his portfolio, and that the minister begged permission +to return it to the king with his own hands. On this request +being granted, the book was produced, and a scene ensued +which ended in the king leaving the room, and Calonne falling +upon his knees before Marie-Antoinette and imploring her to +pardon him.⁠<a id="FNanchor_406" href="#Footnote_406" class="fnanchor">[406]</a> Now as Calonne was dismissed from office, and +exiled from Paris in April 1787, three months before the Princess +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span>de Lamballe’s first visit to England, and more than four years before +her second, and was never called upon to serve the king afterwards, +and as moreover Madame de la Motte’s first libel, her +“Mémoires Justificatifs,” was not printed until 1789, it is quite +certain that there is not a particle of truth in the above narrative, +which induces us to believe that the so-called “Mémoires relatifs +à la Famille Royale de France” claiming to be based on a private +journal of the Princess de Lamballe’s, are, like many other +pretended Memoirs of the time, nothing more than a clumsy +forgery.</p> + +<p>Madame de la Motte herself indirectly admits that it was the +desire of pecuniary gain rather than any particular anxiety to +“clear her character before the world,” which induced the publication +of her “Justificatory Memoir.” “My husband,” says she, +“standing on the very brink of ruin”—they had received since +they had been in England two thousand two hundred pounds for +their diamonds, and at least as much more we should suppose for +the MS. of the “Mémoires,” so that if this statement is true, they +must have dissipated between four and five thousand pounds in +the course of a couple of years—“was necessitated to have recourse +to printing my ‘justification’ as the only means of satisfying +the craving demands of his creditors, whom he was obliged to +avoid, as they made every effort to arrest him; while I, with +misery like a vulture gnawing at my heart, and poverty chasing +even at my very heels, detesting that burden of life which it is yet +my duty to support, and, God forgive me! cursing the hour of my +birth, remained defenceless—unable to protect myself from insult, +or to ward off the blows which malice aimed at my reputation.</p> + +<p>“M. de la Motte printed five thousand ‘Mémoires’ in French +and three thousand in English, confident, from the advice he had +received, that the queen would not suffer them to be published, +though I constantly represented to him the absurdity of this belief.... +How could he hope the government would make terms +with us, when they knew that the original MS. of the ‘Mémoires’ +was in the possession of M. de Calonne, who could make it public +whenever he thought proper?⁠<a id="FNanchor_407" href="#Footnote_407" class="fnanchor">[407]</a> It never accorded with my sentiments,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span>continues the countess, “to enter into any pecuniary +negotiations with the government; the only thing I had at heart +was the vindication of my honour; and, had I been left to my own +discretion, neither sceptres nor crowns should have purchased my +silence.”</p> + +<p>This was a safe enough reservation, as neither sceptres nor +crowns were likely to be offered even to a descendant of the house +of Valois; but we question whether madame could have withstood +the temptation of a certain number of <i>billets</i> of the bank of France, +had these been tendered to her, for times were hard with the De +la Mottes, and it was necessary above all things to “put money in +the purse.” At any rate, she would have promised to keep silence, +would have taken the money, and then have broken her word.</p> + +<p>It must be remembered that all the time this bargaining is going +forward for the sale and purchase of these wretched libels, +Paris—nay, France itself—is in a state of ferment, what with the +meeting of its states-general, the quarrels of its first and third +orders, the braving of the royal authority, the dismissal of Necker; +with troops constantly under arms, riots out of which bloodshed +arises in the streets, the tocsin sounding from all steeples, attacks +upon the prisons, the states-general in permanent session, to be +followed ere long by the storming and capture of the Bastille—in +other words, a Revolution!</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[324]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XL">XL.<br> +<span class="smcap">April, 1787–May, 1792.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE COUNT HAWKS THE LIBELS ABROAD.—IS IMPRISONED IN LA +FORCE AND THE CONCIERGERIE.—THE LAST OF THE DE LA +MOTTE LIBELS.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Count de la Motte, having circulated copies of his wife’s +“Mémoires Justificatifs” among the London booksellers and in +other directions, and being, as usual, involved in debt, thinks it +prudent to make an excursion to Holland, where he believes some +business in these libels may be done; for it is, reasons he, just as +easy to smuggle copies of them into France over the Flemish +frontier as across the British Channel, and we all know that +Mynheer has never been particular as to the character of the +wares he trades in. To Holland, therefore, the count goes in the +month of April, 1789. In tracing his career from this date we +have but few materials to guide us beyond his own posthumous +“Mémoires,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_408" href="#Footnote_408" class="fnanchor">[408]</a> which abound in evident exaggerations, and no less +evident falsehoods. The reader is therefore cautioned to accept +the count’s statements with the same reserve which we have already +asked of him in respect to many of the assertions of the +countess. Truth would seem to have held no place in the De la +Motte system of morals.</p> + +<p>Before the count had brought his negotiations respecting an +edition of his wife’s “Mémoires” to a close, news comes across the +Low Countries of a rising of the people of Paris and the fall of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[325]</span>Bastille. The count forthwith borrows fifteen louis from one of his +Dutch acquaintances, with whose daughter he has been flirting up +to a point that her father speaks seriously to him of matrimony, +and hurries off to Paris, where he arrives on the 18th of August. +He at once addresses himself to Bailly, the newly-elected mayor, +from whom he asks a safe-conduct until the judgment against him +in the Necklace affair can be brought before the new tribunals. +He next has an interview with Mirabeau, who, he says, had already +heard of his arrival, and informed the Duke d’Orléans of it, telling +the duke at the same time they might reckon upon the count joining +them in the attack which they contemplated making upon the +“Austrian she-wolf” (Marie-Antoinette). The count thereupon +calls on the duke, who proposes to him that he shall present a +petition at the bar of the National Assembly, and subsequently +supplies him with funds through Mirabeau.</p> + +<p>The count tells a mysterious story of some unknown individual +calling upon him at this period, and making an appointment for +him to be, between twelve and one o’clock at night, in the Avenue +de Paris, at Versailles, near the iron railings of the château, where +he would find Mirabeau, disguised in a long blue cloak and round +hat. The count keeps the appointment, and meets with Mirabeau +as described, and receives from him a form of petition, which he is +to copy out by six o’clock in the morning, and then return the +original draft. Mirabeau, he says, called at his hôtel at the time +named, when he handed him the copy of the petition, and pretended +that the draft was destroyed, pointing at the same time to +some fragments of burnt paper in the grate, as proof of the fact. +Out of this draft petition, in Mirabeau’s handwriting, the count +sees his way to make some money. Without loss of time he takes +it to M. de Montmorin, minister for foreign affairs, informs him of +the nature of the intrigue which is going on, and explains who +are the prime movers in it. By this means he gains over the +minister, who is, of course, all affability, and speaks to him of the +offer made some time back by M. de la Luzerne, which offer, he says, +he is quite prepared to carry out. From this moment the count is +in clover; for he obtains bribes from both parties, each of whom he +of course sells to the other. After a time, matters being considered +ripe, Mirabeau urges him to come to the bar of the National +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[326]</span>Assembly, and present his petition; but this the count is indisposed +to do. He pretends, therefore, that he has consulted two advocates, +both of whom advise him that the Assembly is not competent to +deal with his case, and so manages to shuffle out of the affair, +thereby however cutting himself adrift from the Orléans party.</p> + +<p>Count de la Motte, it seems, has an old score to clear off with +Father Loth for what he professes to regard as his contemptible +betrayal of the countess in the Necklace affair. He ascertains that, +as a reward for his treachery, the De Rohan family have got Loth +appointed one of the brotherhood of the Knights of Malta, with +comfortable quarters in the Temple. To the Temple, therefore, the +count hies, armed with a stout club, with which he proposes knocking +out poor Father Loth’s brains. “I know not,” says the count, +“whether he was warned, or whether he recognised me wandering +about the Temple, but the fact is he quitted the place abruptly, +and I could never find out what became of him;” a lucky result for +Father Loth, who thereby preserved his customary modicum of +brains in an uncracked skull.</p> + +<p>The famous march of women to Versailles took place at this +period, and the Paris papers announced that Madame de la Motte +led the column of Mœnades, who went to storm the château. This +was a piece of pure invention, for the countess was still residing in +England, where, according to the count, overtures were from time +to time made to her by the agents of the Duke d’Orléans. M. de +Montmorin, hearing of this, proposes furnishing an apartment for +the countess, and providing her with funds to come to Paris, so +that she may be beyond the duke’s influence; but the countess, +having a wholesome dread of the branding-iron, and fearing that a +“C” (<i>calomniatrice</i>) might be added to the “V” (<i>voleuse</i>) which +already graced her shoulders, and having, too, the terrors of the +Salpêtrière before her eyes, prefers remaining where she is, spite of +Orléanist agents and other ills by which she is beset, a resolution +which, as we shall presently see, proved most unfortunate for her.</p> + +<p>Some short time after the receipt of the countess’s letter wherein +she expresses the above determination, news reaches the count of a +most frightful accident having befallen his wife, and almost immediately +afterwards comes a long letter from herself, written on +her bed of suffering, corroborative of the dismal intelligence. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[327]</span>count—who is openly living with a notorious courtesan of the +period, <i>la belle impure Seymour</i>, as she was styled⁠<a id="FNanchor_409" href="#Footnote_409" class="fnanchor">[409]</a>⁠—takes the +matter very coolly; writes, no doubt, a short sympathizing note in +reply, but as for hastening to the bedside of his dying wife, to watch +beside it even for a few hours, and speak to her those few kind +words of comfort which might have helped to assuage her sufferings +and lighten the gloom of her departing moments, this never enters +into the man’s thoughts. The summer days pass pleasantly enough +with him; he can lounge in the Palais Royal gardens in the morning, +and in the Palais Royal gambling saloons at night, and it is +only from the hawkers in the streets that he gains intelligence of +his wretched wife’s death. Hearing the news shouted out on the +boulevards, he buys one of the broadsides and turns into a neighbouring +café to read it, takes it all for granted, and, so far as we can +discover, troubles himself no further on the subject.</p> + +<p>Deprived of his helpmate, the miserable woman on whose mendicancy, +vices and crimes he had lived from the very day that he +married her, the count has now to labour single-handed against the +government, and after a time against society itself, for the means +of subsistence. He obtains an audience of M. Duport du Tertre, +minister of justice, whom he presses with reference to a rehearing +of the process against him in the Necklace affair, and from whom +he asks, and eventually obtains, a letter <i>d’ester à droit</i>, which confers +the right of appearing before a court of law spite of the judgment +of the Parliament of Paris, still hanging over him. Of course +if the count can get the case reheard, and the judgment set aside, +all the De la Motte property seized at Bar-sur-Aube would be +restored to him. Duport du Tertre was by no means opposed to +this course, for though a minister of the crown, he sympathised +with that party who wished to bring Marie-Antoinette before the +new tribunals with reference to her share—for they persisted in +believing her to have had a share—in the Necklace transaction.⁠<a id="FNanchor_410" href="#Footnote_410" class="fnanchor">[410]</a> +Meanwhile, by some skilful manœuvring of his own, the count is +brought into communication with M. de Laporte, intendant of the +civil list, keeper, in fact, of the king’s privy purse, who, he says, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[328]</span>tells him that the king, having heard so good an account of his +opinions, and conduct, and devotion to his person, has accorded him +a certain credit on the civil list, and has commanded Laporte to +say that justice shall certainly be done him in the Necklace affair. +And as a sort of earnest of what the count is to expect in future, +M. de Laporte at parting places in his hand a sealed packet, containing +two thousand four hundred francs in assignats.</p> + +<p>Time wears on, the troubles of the court increase, and the flight +of the royal family from Paris is decided on. The count asserts +that it was arranged for him to accompany an old friend of his, ex-mayor +of Lyons, in a carriage, in which a large amount of specie +was to have been stowed away, and that they were to have kept a +short distance ahead of the royal party. For some reason not +given, this arrangement, which we do not believe was ever made, is +not carried out.</p> + +<p>The count, with whom the revision of the Necklace process has +become a fixed idea, persistently bores the minister of justice to order +a rehearing before one of the new courts, and in November, 1791, by +the king’s direction, according to the count, a sort of council is +held, at which M. Duport du Tertre presides, when it is decided +that the count shall appeal to the third tribunal. The president +of this is a certain M. de Plane—believed to be amenable to court +influence,—who, the count tells us, fought by the side of his father +at the battle of Minden, and promises to do all he can to assist the +son of his old comrade.</p> + +<p>No sooner is this decision arrived at than the count obtains one +thousand crowns from Laporte, who asks him to call upon him at +the Tuileries that evening. The count goes, and to his astonishment +finds himself in the presence of the king. His first movement, +he tells us, is to throw himself at his sovereign’s feet. On +his rising, the king informs him that, from what he has heard, +and the good opinion which he has himself formed of him, he has +decided to grant him all that he asks. He then inquires of the +count whether he happens to have with him the original draft of +the petition drawn up by Mirabeau. Of course, the count has +brought his portfolio, and instantly produces the document in +question. “<i>Le misérable!</i>” exclaims the king, “he deserved his +fate;” which observation of his majesty satisfies the count +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[329]</span>Louis XVI. was not ignorant that Mirabeau had been poisoned. +The son of the Chevalier of St. Louis, and former gendarme at +Lunéville, having declared to his sovereign that he was ready to +shed his last drop of blood for him, now makes his obeisance, and +retires from the royal cabinet.</p> + +<p>On January 4, 1792, Count de la Motte, having taken the precaution +to go the day beforehand to La Force, and choose his cell +just as a man might engage the most convenient vacant room at +an hotel, proceeds to constitute himself a prisoner. His apartment +being somewhat damp, he orders a large fire to be made, and retires +to rest for the night, but is, by-and-by, aroused from his sleep by +a sense of suffocation. Springing out of bed, he finds his cell on +fire, and shouts loudly for assistance. After a time he is rescued, +but not until his hair is singed half off his head, and his great-coat +burnt, more or less, to tinder. Hébert’s “Père Duchesne” came +out the next day with an accusation against the “Austrian she-wolf,” +of having caused the prison to be set on fire to consume +both M. de la Motte and the documents he was on the eve of producing +implicating her in the Necklace affair. From La Force the +count is transferred to the Conciergerie, and on the second day of +his arrival there his old friend and former barber, Burlandeux—he +to whom the De la Motte furniture was wont to be consigned to +save it from being taken in execution⁠<a id="FNanchor_411" href="#Footnote_411" class="fnanchor">[411]</a>⁠—pays him a visit in company +with some seven or eight others, whom Burlandeux introduces +as Manuel (afterwards procureur of the commune), Sergent (one +of the “killers” at the ensuing September massacres), Panis (a +friend of Danton’s), Robespierre, Marat, Hébert, etc., all of them +having come to compliment the count upon his courage and to +offer their aid, while vilifying poor Marie-Antoinette in most +offensive language. De la Motte then has his say, tells his visitors +that he is a <i>voluntary</i> prisoner, and exclaims vehemently against +the old Paris parliament for having “sacrificed an innocent woman, +deprived of the means of defence, that they might save a debauched +prelate.” At the conclusion of the count’s harangue, his new +friends, seemingly very well satisfied with what he has said to them, +take their leave.</p> + +<p>The hearing of the appeal for the revision of the Necklace +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[330]</span>process at length comes on. De la Motte pretends that the public +excitement is intense, the hall being packed from floor to ceiling +with Jacobins—ragged men and slatternly women for the most part—in +the midst of whom he recognizes Burlandeux. According to +the count, the judgment which the third tribunal eventually pronounces, +at the suggestion of the president, would have had the +effect of restoring to him all his property seized by the crown, if at +this moment the minister of justice had not given orders for all the +documents relating to the process to be remitted to the <i>procureur +du roi</i>, who afterwards brings the whole affair before the first tribunal. +The following letter, written by the count to the king, puts +the matter, however, in a somewhat different light:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>“Sire,—When I voluntarily constituted myself a prisoner I +should, in accordance with the promise made to me by M. Duport +(du Tertre), and after the precautions which he had taken, have obtained +my liberty and the entire restitution of my property within +the week. For four months have I been detained and persecuted +by a cabal which, disregarding all prudential considerations, seeks +to give an annoying <i>éclat</i> to this affair. M. de Plane, president +and judge of the third tribunal, was appointed to examine me, +which he did in the most indecent manner, his questions having no +other object than to try and compromise the queen, and principally +to find the means of confronting her with me in open court, +as a necessary witness and deponent of facts set forth in this horrid +process.</p> + +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">M. A. de la Motte</span>.</p> + +<p>“From the Conciergerie of the Palace of Justice, May 5th, 1792.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_412" href="#Footnote_412" class="fnanchor">[412]</a>⁠</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>At the time the foregoing letter was written, unless there is a +mistake in the month—May instead of April—judgment had +actually been pronounced by the third tribunal exactly one month +previously, namely on the 5th of April, a circumstance, one would +imagine, of which the person most concerned could hardly have +been ignorant.⁠<a id="FNanchor_413" href="#Footnote_413" class="fnanchor">[413]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The count’s old friend Burlandeux pays him another visit at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[331]</span>this particular juncture. “Dog of an aristocrat!” exclaims the +enraged barber, thrusting his fist in the count’s face, “Capet and +the Austrian she-wolf will never help you to get out of this +prison.” After thus abruptly delivering himself, Burlandeux, to +the count’s great relief, quietly retires.</p> + +<p>While the De la Motte appeal was going forward, one day a +stranger asks to speak to the count. He proves to be a bookseller +named Gueffier, who has received, he says, from his correspondent +in London the whole of the French edition of the last “Mémoires” +of Madame de la Motte,⁠<a id="FNanchor_414" href="#Footnote_414" class="fnanchor">[414]</a> which “Mémoires,” the count avails himself +of this opportunity of stating (believe him, who pleases), were +written against his advice. The count says that he communicated +the above information to M. de Laporte, who obtained the king’s +authority for him to treat with Gueffier for the purchase of the +work. The fact, however, is that De la Motte wrote direct to the +king upon the subject, as may be seen by the extract which we are +enabled to give from his letter, which, curiously enough, bears the +same date as his other letter to the king—namely, May 5th, 1792:</p> + +<p>... “There has just been bought up by a bookseller of +Paris, named Gueffier, ‘the Life of Madame de la Motte, written +by herself,’ and printed in London. Before constituting myself a +prisoner, I informed M. Duport (du Tertre) of the existence of this +work, which is really by Madame de la Motte, and which she sold +on certain conditions, in order to maintain herself, to a printer in +London, who ought, after having received what he has advanced +and his own charges, to deliver up the complete editions of the +work in French and English. Your majesty has, without doubt, +been informed of these facts by M. Duport, who some time since +endeavoured to buy up the work, and prevent its being made +public. It appears that these endeavours were without result, as +the French copies have arrived at Rouen, and are to be published +in a few days at the shop of this Gueffier. This is what the London +printer, whom I saw two days ago, assured me.</p> + +<p>“I have informed my counsel of these details, and they seem +much alarmed for the public tranquillity, and that of your majesty +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[332]</span>and the queen, on account of the dangers of the publication of this +work. They have imperatively counselled me to have it seized +before it arrives in Paris, as the property of Madame de la Motte, +and now belonging to me by the right of succession. But as the +booksellers who have purchased it, and who advanced Madame de +la Motte the money, claim what is due to them, I shall either be +forced to abandon the seizure or to pay them their demand. I +cannot myself make a sacrifice of twenty thousand francs. I +therefore beg your majesty to put yourself to the necessary expense +in order to frustrate the projects of these evil-disposed persons. +My plan, if it meets with your majesty’s approval, is to +seize and seal up this work at Rouen, and to offer the holders of +it the amount due to them from Madame de la Motte. The +whole will then be sealed up and delivered by my counsel to M. +de Laporte, who will dispose of it according to your majesty’s +orders.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_415" href="#Footnote_415" class="fnanchor">[415]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Negotiations are opened with Gueffier, who offers to surrender +the whole of the copies on receiving a sum of twenty-five thousand +francs. The count suggests eighteen thousand, which Gueffier +eventually agrees to accept, whereupon M. de Laporte forwards +the count twenty thousand francs, with an intimation that he need +not trouble himself to return the balance.⁠<a id="FNanchor_416" href="#Footnote_416" class="fnanchor">[416]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>An attempt, of which the king and M. de Laporte evidently +knew nothing, had, it seems, been previously made to sell the +manuscript of this edition of the countess’s life to Marie-Antoinette. +But the queen, guided by past experience, saw clearly enough +that, whether she bought the manuscript or not, the libel was +equally certain to be published, and indeed it must have been +printed off at the time the manuscript was offered to her. She +therefore peremptorily refused to enter into any negotiation. “At +the commencement of 1792,” writes Madame Campan, “an +estimable priest asked of me a private interview. He had heard +of a new libel of Madame de la Motte’s, and told me he had remarked +that the people who came from London to get it printed in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[333]</span>Paris⁠<a id="FNanchor_417" href="#Footnote_417" class="fnanchor">[417]</a> were actuated only by the desire of gain, and that they were +ready to deliver up the manuscript for one thousand louis, if some +friend of the queen could be found disposed to make this sacrifice +to ensure her tranquillity.</p> + +<p>“I communicated this proposition to the queen, who declined +it, and commanded me to reply that, at the time when it was +possible to punish the circulators of those libels she had considered +them so atrocious and so improbable that she had disdained to +take any steps for arresting their course, that if she now were imprudent +enough to buy up one only, the active espionage of the +Jacobins would not fail to discover it, and the libel so bought +would not the less be printed, and would become much more +dangerous when the public learnt the means she had adopted to +keep it from their knowledge.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_418" href="#Footnote_418" class="fnanchor">[418]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>M. de Laporte had the edition of the countess’s life, which had +been purchased from Gueffier, conveyed to his hôtel; but after a +time, growing alarmed at the daily increasing excesses of the population +of Paris, and fearful that at some moment when he least expected +it, an irruption might be made into his house, and these +“Mémoires” carried off and distributed among the people, he gave +an order for them to be burnt with all necessary precaution and +secrecy. Unfortunately, the person who received this order confided +the execution of it to one Riston, a dangerous intriguer, and +former advocate of Nancy, escaped, a year previously, from the +gallows, by favour of the new tribunals, although he had been +proved guilty of fabricating impressions of the great seal, and forging +decrees of the council in proceedings undertaken at the request +of the king’s household. “I had,” says Bertrand de Moleville, +minister of marine, “to read over to the witnesses their depositions, +and to confront them with the accused, at the peril of +being assassinated, not only by Riston, who, at one of the sittings, +threw himself upon me with a knife, but also by the brigands in +his pay, with whom the hall of audience was filled, and who were +enraged at finding their threatening outcries did not prevent me +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[334]</span>from repressing the insults which the accused offered unceasingly to +the witnesses who came to depose against him.</p> + +<p>“This same Riston, who a year previously was in the toils of a +capital accusation, instituted against him in the name and by order +of the king, finding himself charged with a commission which interested +his majesty, and the importance of which was apparent +from the mystery attaching to it, troubled himself less about the +best way of executing it than in making a parade of this mark of +confidence. On May 30th, 1792, (at ten o’clock in the morning), +he had the printed sheets conveyed in a cart, which he himself +accompanied, to the porcelain manufactory at Sèvres, and caused a +great fire to be made of them in the presence of all the workmen +belonging to the establishment, who were expressly forbidden to +approach near it. All this parade, and the suspicion to which it +gave rise in these critical times, caused the matter to be publicly +talked of and discussed; and the same evening it was brought before +the Assembly, when Brissot, and others of the Jacobin party +argued with as much effrontery as vehemence that these papers, +burnt with so much secrecy, could have been nothing else but the +registers and correspondence of the Austrian committee. M. de +Laporte was called to the bar, and gave a most exact account of the +facts. Riston was also summoned, and confirmed the account given +by M. de Laporte. But these explanations, however satisfactory +they ought to have been, did not appease the violent feeling which +this affair had excited in the Assembly.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_419" href="#Footnote_419" class="fnanchor">[419]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Madame Campan tells an interesting anecdote in connection with +this unfortunate casualty. “One day,” observes she, “M. d’Aubin +came and said to me, ‘the National Assembly has been engaged +with a denunciation made by the workmen of the manufactory of +Sèvres, who brought to the president’s desk a pile of pamphlets, +which they said was the life of Marie-Antoinette. The director of +the manufactory was called to the bar, and declared that he had received +orders to burn these printed works in the kilns used for baking +the porcelain.’ Whilst,” says Madame Campan, “I was giving +an account of this to the queen, the king coloured and hung his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[335]</span>head over his plate. The queen said to him, ‘Do you know anything +of this, sir?’ The king did not answer. Madame Elisabeth +asked him to explain what it all meant. Still the same silence. +I promptly retired. A few minutes afterwards the queen came to +me, and told me it was the king who, out of regard for her, had +caused the whole of the edition printed from the manuscript of +which I had spoken to her, to be purchased, and that M. de Laporte +had not thought of any more secret way of destroying the work +than having it burnt at Sèvres, in the presence of two hundred +workmen, one hundred and eighty of whom were certain to be +Jacobins. She told me that she had concealed her grief from the +king; that he was dismayed, and that she could say nothing when +she found that his tenderness and goodwill towards her had been +the cause of this accident.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_420" href="#Footnote_420" class="fnanchor">[420]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Such was the end of the last of the De la Motte libels, which were +nevertheless reprinted in subsequent years, and even so recently as +the year 1846, more than half a century after their first dissemination, +so thorough is the vitality of calumny!</p> + +<p>Marie-Antoinette, in reply to questions put to her at her trial, +with reference to the papers burnt at Sèvres, said: “I believe it +was a libel. I was not, however, consulted on the matter. I was +told of it afterwards. Had I been consulted, I should have opposed +the burning of any writing which was against me.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_421" href="#Footnote_421" class="fnanchor">[421]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[336]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLI">XLI.<br> +<span class="smcap">May, 1789–Aug. 1791.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">RETRIBUTION.—THE CRIMINAL AND HER ACCOMPLICES.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>We must now go back in our narrative to the point of time when +Count de la Motte left England to traffic in his wife’s “Mémoires” +abroad, with what success we have already seen. Judging from +the countess’s dolorous account of their dealings with them in +England, it is evident that trouble as well as profit resulted from +these “Mémoires Justificatifs.” Neither she nor her husband +were satisfied with disposing of copies of them through the +ordinary channels, but sought to force a trade among merchants, +and even hatters. It seems that nine hundred copies of the +French, and two hundred and fifty copies of the English edition of +the “Mémoires,” together with two hundred and eighty-three +copies of the countess’s “Scourge for Calonne”—published at the +several prices of one guinea, half a guinea, and five shillings—were +intrusted to a French hatter in New Bond Street, named Coup, +who advanced the count, at various times, something like three +hundred pounds upon them. “Without any previous demand,” +says Madame de la Motte, “Coup came one day (May 14, 1789), +in the absence of my husband, at the head of half a dozen bailiffs, +and lodged an execution at my house in Chester Place, where he +for the first time told me he had sufficient authority, my husband +never having even mentioned the circumstance to me.</p> + +<p>“This was another disagreeable attack, and I saw my house and +furniture sold on the 21st of May, without being able to procure +any account from this man of the books he had sold, which would +have been more than double his demand, as at that particular +juncture the sale of these books must have been at once rapid and +extensive. He even had the meanness to put an execution upon +four or five hundred ‘Mémoires’ which remained with him, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[337]</span>which were sold for only six guineas, and were resold by the purchasers +at half a crown and three shillings each.</p> + +<p>“Of the five thousand ‘Mémoires’ which had been printed, +Coup had received only nine hundred. I proceed to mention what +became of the remaining ones. My credulous husband, profuse of +confidence, notwithstanding he had been formerly deceived by a +man pretending to be a capital merchant, trusted this man with a +certain number of ‘Mémoires,’ French as well as English, which he +was to dispose of as merchandise to his correspondents in different +countries, from whom, in a short time, he would receive remittances.</p> + +<p>“M. de la Motte, though formerly deceived, yet gave him his +confidence, and delivered to him nine hundred and nine French +‘Mémoires,’ valued at a guinea each, three hundred and eighty-six +English ditto, valued at half that sum, and a number of the +‘Scourge for Calonne,’ for all of which we never received one +farthing. This man’s wife, upon whom I took pity, remained in +my house during the time of the execution, under the specious +pretext of rendering me service. Alas! what service did she +render me? Small miniature paintings of great value, and other +valuable articles to the amount of forty or fifty guineas, she put +into her pocket, and when I reclaimed these effects, she made me +a most audacious and impertinent reply, to the effect that when +M. de la Motte should pay them, they would then give an account. +Against their injustice I have no remedy. They have no property, +and I am heartily sick of having any business with attorneys, who +have already had too much to do with my unfortunate husband.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Ridgway, who was the publisher of all these ‘Mémoires,’ +had, upon supposition, about four hundred. These he sold for +about one hundred and eighty pounds, out of which there was +eighty pounds for expenses. I have scarce received one hundred +pounds, and I have remaining, out of eight thousand copies, eight +hundred French, and three hundred English ‘Mémoires,’ for which +I have received no money.</p> + +<p>“Very soon after this execution was levied against me, my servant, +Angelica (the same who was with the countess in the +Salpêtrière, we suppose) got into bad company, and was advised to +sue for her wages, to the amount of twenty guineas. She applied +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[338]</span>to an attorney, who threatened me with arrest. Alas! I that am +nobly descended, that have been the favourite of a queen, that +have basked in the sunshine of affluence and felt the smiles of distinction, +am now nothing; and were it not for the benevolence of +some respectable characters, I might probably be reduced to the +dire necessity of returning to my former mean situation, and of +imploring charity of every passing stranger.”</p> + +<p>And this is what ten years of struggling, scheming, intriguing, +and petitioning; of lying, swindling, forgery, theft, slander, and +depravity—and all to be lady of the manor of Fontette—have +brought this wretched woman to at last! “Misery, like a vulture, +gnawing her heart,” she says, “and poverty chasing at her very +heels;” her household goods sold for debt incurred with respect to +her malicious libels; herself threatened with arrest by the very +servant whose release she procured from the Salpêtrière, while her +husband is flirting in Holland with some flaxen-haired young <i>frau</i>. +Either to console herself in the midst of these accumulated +troubles, or else—and which is by far the most likely reason—with +the view of pecuniary gain, she now writes her “Life,” in two +volumes, octavo, taking care to reiterate therein all her previous +malignant slanders against the French queen.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” says she, almost prophetically, “could have induced +me to undertake a task like this—to retrace a life which has already +been too long, and which, if my ideas of it are as just as I could wish, +is drawing fast to a close; nothing,” she continues, in her most high-flown +style, “could have roused me from this lethargy of grief but +the desire of rescuing my memory, when this fluttering pulse shall +cease to beat, and the hand that now guides my pen be mouldered +into dust, from the detractions of malice. Abused, insulted, and +disgraced, the wounds of bleeding honour are too deep to be closed. +Do they call for vengeance? No; there is a just and righteous +Judge, before whose tribunal I shall again meet my enemies, where +neither the strong arm of oppression nor the ‘gilded’ hand of +offence will be sufficiently powerful to vanquish innocence.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_422" href="#Footnote_422" class="fnanchor">[422]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Such were the motives which inspired the countess to write her +“Life.” Curiously enough, the Duke d’Orléans chances to be in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[339]</span>England at this precise period—he arrived in London during +October, 1789, and did not return to France until the following July—and +it is believed that he encourages madame, by liberal bribes, to +prosecute her task, even if he does not have a hand himself in its +production.⁠<a id="FNanchor_423" href="#Footnote_423" class="fnanchor">[423]</a> The count, too, is by this time in Paris, and in communication +with the government, and there are the best of reasons +for believing that the countess’s main object in writing this work +was to extort more money from a well-nigh bankrupt royal exchequer. +Be this as it may, the work is completed towards the +close of the year 1790, when the Count de la Motte is receiving +bribes both from the French ministry and the Orléans party; but +“its publication is delayed,” we are informed, “from overtures +being made for its suppression by a person pretending to be charged +with a commission for that purpose from the then highest powers +in France. Some months were wasted in fruitless negotiation, till +the unexpected flight and consequent embarrassments of the royal +fugitives destroyed that flattering prospect and pleasing hope of +the countess’s being relieved from the difficulties in which the most +vindictive persecutions had involved her. The speedy flight of the +negotiator, who had impressed her with an idea that she would +soon be placed beyond the reach of fortune by the immediate +settlement of an annuity upon herself, and the liquidation of her +husband’s debts, on condition of giving up the manuscript and +printed copies of her ‘Life,’ left her to struggle with these new-created +difficulties which his flattering assurances had tended so +greatly to increase.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_424" href="#Footnote_424" class="fnanchor">[424]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The struggle was but a brief one, for a very few days afterwards +a catastrophe occurred which speedily placed this wretched woman +beyond the reach of worldly trouble. According to the count, +certain agents of the Duke d’Orléans, finding themselves frustrated +in their efforts to induce Madame de la Motte to quit England, conceived +the idea of having her arrested, in the belief that, when they +had her in their power, they could by promises, and the prospect of +a brilliant revenge, prevail upon her to allow herself to be conducted +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[340]</span>to Paris. “Among these infamous agents,” says the count, “there +was one who went before a justice of the peace and swore on the +Scriptures that Madame de la Motte owed him a hundred guineas, +when he was immediately furnished with the necessary order for +her arrest. Armed with this document, the officers presented +themselves at her house, and requested her to accompany them—she +being ignorant all the while of even the name of the villain +who had sworn to the debt. Even had the debt been real, no one +had the right to arrest a married woman, and Madame de la Motte +was sufficiently acquainted with the laws of the country to be +aware of this circumstance. Still, it was necessary that she should +furnish proofs of her marriage, which she could not do, as, when +she quitted Paris, all her papers remained at the Bastille. These +scoundrels, therefore, insisted upon carrying her off; whereupon +she declared to them that, if they used violence, she would put +herself under the protection of the passers-by, who would come to +her rescue. She told them, however, that she was going to send +for her lawyer, who would, if requisite, find the necessary bail, and +she despatched her servant for that purpose, cautioning her beforehand, +that if the lawyer was not at home, she was, on her return, +to make her a certain sign, and to say that he was coming, so that +she might settle within her own mind what course to pursue in +this emergency. Angelica had no sooner left, than the countess, +with the view of keeping her vile persecutors in a good humour, +served them with some luncheon and a bottle of port wine. While +they were seated at table she walked about the room, conversing +with them, and looking out of the window to watch for the return +of Angelica, who, seeing her mistress at the window, and not having +found the lawyer at home, made her the sign agreed upon.</p> + +<p>“Madame de la Motte, seizing a favourable moment, abruptly +opened the door and double-locked the scoundrels inside the room. +The window being open, one of them looked out to see whether she +left the house. Her extreme anxiety, and the state of confusion she +was in owing to this unjust aggression, were, no doubt, the reason +of her not remarking the hackney-coaches stationed before the +house, into one of which she might have got, and been driven in a +few minutes into another county, when, in the event of her persecutors +discovering her retreat, it would have been necessary for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">[341]</span>them to have procured a new writ before they could have again +arrested her. But instead of adopting this very obvious course, and +not, perhaps, imagining the fellows would be on the watch to see +what became of her, she took refuge in a neighbouring house, the +people belonging to which were known to her.</p> + +<p>“In the meanwhile these infamous tyrants, by dint of kicking at +the door of the room, succeeded in getting themselves released. They +immediately made for the house which they had seen the countess +enter, and demanded of the owner that she should be surrendered +up to them. The owner replied that he knew no such lady, and refused +to allow them to make a search. They, however, insisted, +declaring that if Madame de la Motte were not there, they would +take upon themselves all the consequences of the trespass. Thereupon +they proceeded to search the house. Not finding the object +of their search on the ground or first floors, they ascended to the +second story, the proprietor following them and renewing his protestations. +At last they arrived at a room, the door of which +being locked they demanded to have it opened. In vain they were +told that it was let to a lodger who always took his key with him +when he went out; not doubting but that Madame de la Motte +was concealed here, they threatened to burst the door open if the +key were not immediately forthcoming.</p> + +<p>“The countess, who was really in this room, had persuaded herself +that a plot had been got up to carry her back to France, and +there imprison her again. She was consequently in a most bewildered +state. Opening the window, which looked into a yard, she +got out and suspended herself by her hands to an iron bar which +served as a guard, determined to precipitate herself to the ground +if these fellows should succeed in breaking in the door. Unfortunately +it was of common deal, and a few kicks sufficed to start the +panels. The instant the countess caught sight of the head of one +of her pursuers she let go her hold and fell with violence upon the +pavement It was her misfortune not to have been killed on the +spot: her thigh was broken in two places, her left arm was fractured, +and one of her eyes was knocked out; in addition to which, +her body was a mass of bruises. In this state she lived for several +weeks, during which time I received from her a long letter giving +me a detailed account of this tragical event.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">[342]</span></p> + +<p>“Thus died, at the age of thirty-four, a woman whose whole life +was one long career of misery, but which might have ended happily +had not the privilege of her birth, by over-exalting her imagination, +developed beyond measure those sentiments of pride and ambition +which conducted her to her fall.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_425" href="#Footnote_425" class="fnanchor">[425]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The editor of “The Life of Jeanne de St. Remy de Valois, heretofore +Countess de la Motte, written by herself,” furnished, in a supplement +to that work, a few additional particulars of the melancholy +termination of her career. He says, that “she received most of +her injuries through falling against the trunk of a tree, and that, +while the feelings of the surrounding spectators were agonized at +the sight of the dreadful spectacle which her bleeding and mangled +form presented, the sheriff’s officer, with a disgraceful apathy, was +only intent to maintain the legality of his caption, and refused +to surrender the almost lifeless body until he had good bail for its +security.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_426" href="#Footnote_426" class="fnanchor">[426]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Spite of the prominent place which the countess and her doings +had recently occupied in the public mind of Europe, the English +journals of the day notified the fact of her decease in such brief terms +as the following:</p> + +<p>“August 26, 1791.—Died at her lodgings, near Astley’s Riding +School, Lambeth, the noted Countess de la Motte, of ‘Necklace’ +memory, who lately jumped out of a two pair of stairs window, to +avoid the bailiffs.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_427" href="#Footnote_427" class="fnanchor">[427]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Of the last surviving representative of the royal house of Valois, +Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi, the Countess’s youngest sister, a few +meagre particulars have been preserved. In Madame de la Motte’s +days of grandeur she was engaged to be married to a certain Paul +François de Barras, nephew of the Count de Barras, and a particular +friend of her brother’s, the young Baron de Valois, and who was +subsequently better known as commandant of the Convention +forces against the Robespierre faction on the 9th Thermidor, as the +friend and patron of young Bonaparte, and chief of the Directory. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">[343]</span>“My disaster,” (her sentence in regard to the Necklace affair) +naïvely observes the countess, “prevented the nuptials.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_428" href="#Footnote_428" class="fnanchor">[428]</a> In July, +1786, we find the Abbess of Jarcy, to which convent Mademoiselle +de Saint-Remi had again retired, writing to the Baron de Breteuil +on her behalf, and thanking him for the assistance which he had +accorded to “virtue in distress.” A couple of months afterwards, +when this assistance is required to be renewed, the baron is favoured +with a second letter in the following terms:</p> + +<p>“I consider my requests on behalf of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi,” +writes the abbess, “founded as much on justice as on +charity. The innumerable examples of the goodness of our +monarchs in such cases authorizes my prayers. And although the +example of a foreign sovereign ought not to influence the will of our +august master, I do not see that it is wrong of me to dwell upon +what the Emperor, brother of the best of queens, has just granted +to the wife and children of Count de Székély, condemned to the +pillory, the galleys, and other punishments. His goods were confiscated, +and the sovereign gave them back to his wife and children. +He did more: he preserved to them, even to the last survivor, the +perquisites which the culprit enjoyed as first lieutenant of the +Hungarian <i>gardes nobles</i>.</p> + +<p>“Is the position of Mademoiselle de Valois less deserving of +pity? Alas! she deserves it much more. There remained some +fortune to the Countess Székély, whereas our unfortunate is alone +in the world. Lastly, she is of the blood of our kings—very respectable +blood, M. le Baron, in the estimation of both you and I.</p> + +<p>“Shall I tell you, M. le Baron—and why should I hide it any +longer? Poison has twice failed to conduct the unhappy one to the +tomb she longs for. Without the most prompt help—without the +assistance of antidotes administered for twelve hours in succession, +the unfortunate wretch would have expired in the most frightful +torments: less frightful, however, than those which she is menaced +with suffering without the alms which I claim for her, and which +you cannot refuse—I do not hesitate to say it—to her extreme +misfortunes.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_429" href="#Footnote_429" class="fnanchor">[429]</a>⁠</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">[344]</span></p> + +<p>Exactly one year subsequently, namely, in September, 1787, we +find a certain Abbé Phaph interesting himself very warmly in the +young lady’s affairs, and writing to the countess, who has only recently +arrived in England, urging her to sign some document +which he has prepared, the effect of which would be to give the +sister a charge upon the De la Motte property at Bar-sur-Aube. +This the countess very decidedly declines to do, and writes back +requesting her sister to send her over “three gowns which she +fetched away from the mantua-maker’s”⁠<a id="FNanchor_430" href="#Footnote_430" class="fnanchor">[430]</a> just after her arrest, and +which she has ever since detained!</p> + +<p>The next we hear of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi is that she is +living openly with the aforesaid abbé as his mistress.⁠<a id="FNanchor_431" href="#Footnote_431" class="fnanchor">[431]</a> In April, +1787, we find her engaged in a process against the domain for the +restitution of the family papers and deeds of succession, which she +stated were under the seals affixed to the effects of her sister; but +orders having come from Versailles for all proceedings in the +matter to be suspended, the suit had to be abandoned.⁠<a id="FNanchor_432" href="#Footnote_432" class="fnanchor">[432]</a> From this +time we lose sight of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi until January, +1794, the height of the Terror, when, caught up in the revolutionary +vortex, she is sent to the Port Libre prison as a <i>suspect</i>. Here +she is at first mistaken for her sister, until people call to mind that +the countess has been dead some years.⁠<a id="FNanchor_433" href="#Footnote_433" class="fnanchor">[433]</a> Six months afterwards +she is transferred to the Carmes, and in less than another month—namely, +on the 22nd of August, three days before the arrest and +execution of Robespierre—she has the good fortune to regain her +liberty.⁠<a id="FNanchor_434" href="#Footnote_434" class="fnanchor">[434]</a> What subsequently became of her, and the precise date +at which she died, are involved in obscurity. Beugnot speaks of +her as having retired to some convent in Germany,⁠<a id="FNanchor_435" href="#Footnote_435" class="fnanchor">[435]</a> and a paragraph +in Count de la Motte’s “Mémoires” would lead us to suppose +that her death took place about the year 1817.⁠<a id="FNanchor_436" href="#Footnote_436" class="fnanchor">[436]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>But little is known of the future careers of the countess’s two +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">[345]</span>Accomplices, the forger Villette, and the counterfeit queen +D’Oliva. Villette, on being banished from France, proceeded to +gratify that longing which he pretended he had to visit Italy where +he seems to have lived for some years, apparently not caring to +profit by the opportunity which the Revolution afforded him to return +once more to the land of his birth. He published at Venice, +in the year 1790, as his contribution to the lying literature of the +Diamond Necklace affair, a small octavo volume, of less than one +hundred pages, under the title of “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues +de la Cour, et de se qui s’est passé entre la Reine, le Comte +d’Artois, le Cardinal de Rohan, Madame de Polignac, Madame de +la Motte, Cagliostro, etc.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_437" href="#Footnote_437" class="fnanchor">[437]</a> In this work he informs us that he +forged the queen’s signature under the eyes of the cardinal—a +prince who overawed him, and who had so many opportunities of +benefiting him—and of Madame de la Motte, a woman whom he +adored; a pension of six thousand livres a year being promised him +for his compliance, one thousand crowns of which he received, the +following day, on account. The words “<i>of France</i>,” were added, +he says, by the cardinal’s express directions. Villette pretends +that Cagliostro, the cardinal, and Madame de la Motte, were +equally concerned in the plot; Cagliostro, whom at the trial he +emphatically declared to be innocent of all share in the fraud, +being the most guilty of all. The Necklace was obtained, he +said, with the sole view of selling it, so that the trio might replenish +their bankrupt exchequers, the cardinal having exhausted +his resources in supplying Cagliostro with funds to carry on his +experiments for the discovery of the philosopher’s stone, which experiments +they hoped might turn out successful by the time the +Necklace had to be paid for. Villette pronounces all the +“Mémoires” put forth at the time of the trial to be merely so +many romances, fabricated for the sole purpose of concealing the +truth. Of the countess’s <i>liaisons</i> he speaks in the most open terms. +“Abandoned,” he says, “by her husband, a depraved libertine and +gambler, she sought to captivate other men, and to render them +slaves to her charms.” What these charms were, Villette himself +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">[346]</span>shall tell. “Strong natural wit, a graceful figure, a white and +transparent skin, and eyes bright and piercing.” He says that he +possessed the countess’s entire confidence, and knew of all her intrigues, +and particularly her <i>liaisons</i> with the cardinal; he then +proceeds to say that she was seduced in the first instance by the +Marquis de Boulainvilliers, and that she afterwards admitted the +Bishop of Langres to her embraces, that the Marquis d’Autichamp +was her next lover, that she had a <i>liaison</i> with the Count d’Artois +even, and reckoned the Count de Dolomieu and M. de Coigny on the +list of those she had ensnared. “I have described her,” concludes +Villette, “as she was—amiable, pretty, and over-complaisant; too +good not to have been a trifle weak, too passionate not to have +been somewhat of a libertine. This woman, whom I loved to +adoration, and who had loaded me with benefits, I dared to +betray.”</p> + +<p>The termination of the career of Rétaux de Villette would +appear to have been even a more sorry one than that of the woman +he so adored, if the statement is true that he died by the hands of +the hangman, swung off on the leads of the Castle of Saint Angelo, +at Rome.⁠<a id="FNanchor_438" href="#Footnote_438" class="fnanchor">[438]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The Demoiselle d’Oliva married her old lover Beausire, the same +who accompanied her to Brussels at the time of her flight. He +was an offshoot of nobility, and, as we have already stated, was formerly +attached to the household of the Count d’Artois. D’Oliva’s +married life was but brief, and anything but happy, for she died, +it is reported, in 1789, in the greatest misery.⁠<a id="FNanchor_439" href="#Footnote_439" class="fnanchor">[439]</a> Next year her +husband became commandant of the National guard of the Temple +section, but finding his influence rapidly declining, he retired to +Choisy, near Paris, and managed to get appointed procureur of the +commune; finally he pursued the despicable calling of <i>mouton</i>, +or informer, and drew up the lists of proscription in the Luxembourg +prison, when it was choke-full of persons <i>suspects</i>. Against +the majority of these there was not a shadow of evidence, but as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">[347]</span>evidence must be forthcoming in some form or other, the poor +wretches were accused of having plotted in prison. It was remarked +that Beausire’s old acquaintances who had had the ill-luck +to win money of him at play were certain to be on his list of +victims, and it was said that he spoke privately to the public +accuser to have them guillotined.⁠<a id="FNanchor_440" href="#Footnote_440" class="fnanchor">[440]</a> “This Plot in the Prison,” +remarks Carlyle, “is now the stereotype formula of Tinville; +against whomsoever he knows no crime, this is a ready-made +crime. His judgment-bar has become unspeakable, a recognized +mockery, known only as the wicket one passes through towards +death. His indictments are drawn out in blank; you insert the +names after. He has his <i>moutons</i>, detestable traitor jackals, who +report and bear witness, that they themselves may be allowed to +live—for a time.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_441" href="#Footnote_441" class="fnanchor">[441]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Beausire was at the head of these <i>moutons</i>, was, in fact, the chief +spy of the detestable Boyenval, who gloated over the number of +victims he was instrumental in bringing to the guillotine. He +said of Beausire, that he made use of him, but that Fouquier +Tinville did not like him, and that he could have him guillotined +whenever he pleased.⁠<a id="FNanchor_442" href="#Footnote_442" class="fnanchor">[442]</a> And it pleased Boyenval at last to put this +covert threat of his into execution, and “D’Oliva’s husband was +hurled in.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_443" href="#Footnote_443" class="fnanchor">[443]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">[348]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLII">XLII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786–1793.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">DUPE AND VICTIM.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>What became of the Dupe—Cardinal Prince Bishop Louis-René-Édouard +de Rohan? Finding the bleak air of the Auvergne +mountains sorely trying to his constitution, broken as it was by +excesses and long confinement in the Bastille, the cardinal asked +and obtained permission of the king to choose another place of +residence. Either he or the Baron de Breteuil fixed upon the +Abbey of St. Bénoît, on the Loire, near Orléans, but the lady superior +of this establishment, alarmed at the prospect of the cardinal +and his large retinue of servants coming there and eating them out +of house and home, besides being very backward in his payments, +protested that she was unable to afford the cardinal the necessary +accommodation.⁠<a id="FNanchor_444" href="#Footnote_444" class="fnanchor">[444]</a> Eventually he was taken in at the Abbey of +Marmontier, near Tours, where, we are told, he was ever lamenting +the mad hopes in which he had permitted himself to indulge with +regard to the queen, and the blind confidence he had reposed in +Madame de la Motte.⁠<a id="FNanchor_445" href="#Footnote_445" class="fnanchor">[445]</a> Growing tired after a time of his new home, +the cardinal made various efforts to obtain permission to return to +his diocese, and even sent medical certificates to his old enemy, +the Baron de Breteuil, setting forth that the air of his native +Alsace was absolutely necessary to the restoration of his health. +The king at last gave an unwilling consent, and for a time the +cardinal lived in something like his old accustomed luxurious state +at pleasant Saverne. On the approach of the Revolution he was +nominated, by the influence of the popular party—who thought +that his desire to be revenged upon the court would secure him to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">[349]</span>their side—a deputy of the clergy of Alsace. Being still under +sentence of exile he did not dare accept the nomination, and a +certain Abbé Louis was elected in his place. The abbé dying, the +cardinal was again chosen, and the National Assembly having +cancelled his sentence of exile, after some delay he came to Paris +and took his seat, amidst loud shouts of applause—much, however, +against the wish of his illustrious relatives, who, one and all, hated +the Revolution as a certain individual is said to hate holy water. +For a time the cardinal, with the view of self-preservation, went +with the revolutionary current, and even took the civic oath; but +when his co-reformers began to meddle with the property of the +clergy, decreeing the sale of their lands and superfluous edifices, he +cut himself adrift from them, and retired once more to his loved +Saverne, to dream, however, no more mad dreams of love and +ambition while pacing up and down his once-favourite “Promenade +de la Rose.”</p> + +<p>Any mere wordy formula the cardinal was willing enough to +swallow, but he could not tolerate sacrilegious hands being laid +upon church property, and particularly church property that he was +interested in. “Messieurs of the clergy,” said a wag of the time, +“it is your turn to be shaved; if you wriggle too much you will be +certain to get cut;” and cut the cardinal, and with him the unfortunate +crown jewellers, certainly did get, for the latter’s security +on the rich revenues of the Abbey of St. Waast, of which the nation +had taken possession, was now only so much waste paper, and bankruptcy +was the result. Shortly after the grand national oath-taking +ceremony in the Champ de Mars, the cardinal was summoned by +the Assembly to resume his functions as deputy within fifteen days, +but instead of doing so, he wrote a letter, stating that as it was impossible +for him to give his adhesion to the new civil constitution +of the clergy, he placed his seat at the Assembly’s disposal. The +cardinal was now looked upon as one “<i>suspect</i>,” and had ere long to +retire to Ettenheim, a dependency of his Strasbourg bishopric, +lying beyond the French frontier on the opposite bank of the +Rhine. Here, in his capacity of prince of the German empire, he +caused levies of troops to be made to swell the army under the +command of his relative, the Prince de Condé, whom he aided in +every possible way. These proceedings of his greatly exasperated +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">[350]</span>the revolutionary party; he was constantly being denounced in the +National Assembly, and on one occasion Victor de Broglie brought +forward a proposition to indict him before the national high court; +but the Assembly, knowing the cardinal to be beyond its reach, +sensibly enough refused to entertain the proposal, although it was +renewed again and again. It contented itself, on first hearing of +the cardinal’s flight, with instructing the municipality of Strasbourg +to seize and make an inventory of his effects, of which they were to +retain custody until further orders.⁠<a id="FNanchor_446" href="#Footnote_446" class="fnanchor">[446]</a> “Deprived of his vast +revenues,” says the cardinal’s biographer, “he lived a modest and +frugal life, intent only on securing the happiness of his diocese, now +reduced to a small patch of territory on the right bank of the +Rhine.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_447" href="#Footnote_447" class="fnanchor">[447]</a> This life of virtuous restraint which the old spendthrift +and debauchee, stripped of his fat benefices, was compelled to lead +in his declining years, was perhaps as severe a punishment as could +have been meted out to him. He died on the 16th of February, +1803, having attained an age only a little more than a year short +of the allotted three score years and ten.</p> + +<p>The cardinal and his “familiar” do not appear to have met again +on this side of the grave. Cagliostro, as we have seen, had to +make a rapid retreat to England, and here he remained for about +a couple of years. Then he went to Switzerland, to Savoy, and +finally to several of the chief cities of Italy. On December 27th, +1789, when the proceedings of the revolutionary party in France +were exciting the utmost alarm in the minds of members of the +sacred college, Cagliostro had the ill-luck to get arrested, denounced, +it is said, by his wife as chief of a society of Illuminati. He was +confined in the Castle of St. Angelo, and after fifteen months detention, +was found guilty of practising freemasonry, and sentenced +to death, which sentence was commuted to perpetual imprisonment +in the Castle of St. Leo, where he is believed to have died in 1795. +His wife was condemned to a life of religious seclusion in the Convent +of Ste. Apolline.⁠<a id="FNanchor_448" href="#Footnote_448" class="fnanchor">[448]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>And what became of the Victim?—the Austrian she-wolf!—the +Austrian tigress!—the Iscariot of France! Messalina, Brunehaut, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">[351]</span>Frédégonde, and Médicis! as she was indifferently called by her relentless +persecutors? A more powerful pen than our own shall +record her cruel fate:—</p> + +<p>“On Monday, the 14th of October, 1793, a cause is pending in +the Palais de Justice, in the new Revolutionary Court, such as +these old stone walls never witnessed—the trial of Marie-Antoinette. +The once brightest of queens, now tarnished, defaced, forsaken, +stands here before Fouquier Tinville’s judgment-bar, answering for +her life. The indictment was delivered her last night.⁠<a id="FNanchor_449" href="#Footnote_449" class="fnanchor">[449]</a> To such +changes of human fortune what words are adequate? Silence alone +is adequate.</p> + +<p>“There are few printed things one meets with of such tragic, +almost ghastly, significance as those bald pages of the <i>Bulletin du +Tribunal Révolutionnaire</i>, which bear title ‘Trial of the Widow +Capet.’... The very witnesses summoned are like ghosts: exculpatory, +inculpatory, they themselves are all hovering over death +and doom; they are known, in our imaginations, as the prey of the +guillotine. Tall, <i>ci-devant</i> Count d’Estaing, anxious to show himself +patriot, cannot escape; nor Bailly, who, when asked if he knows +the accused, answers, with a reverent inclination towards her, ‘Ah, +yes! I know madame.’ Ex-patriots are here sharply dealt with, as +Procureur Manuel; ex-ministers shorn of their splendour. We +have cold aristocratic impassivity, faithful to itself even in Tartarus; +rabid stupidity of patriot corporals—patriot washerwomen—who +have much to say of plots, treasons, August tenth, old insurrection +of women,—for all now has become a crime in her who has <i>lost</i>.</p> + +<p>“Marie-Antoinette, in this her utter abandonment and hour of +extreme need, is not wanting to herself, the imperial woman. Her +look, they say, as that hideous indictment was reading, continued +calm; ‘she was sometimes observed moving her fingers as when +one plays on the piano.’ You discern, not without interest, across +that dim revolutionary bulletin itself, how she bears herself queen-like. +Her answers are prompt, clear, often of laconic brevity; +resolution, which has grown contemptuous without ceasing to be +dignified, veils itself in calm words. ‘You persist, then, in denial?’ +‘My plan is not denial: it is the truth I have said, and I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">[352]</span>persist in that.’ Scandalous Hébert has borne his testimony as to +many things—as to one thing concerning Marie-Antoinette and her +little son, wherewith human speech had better not further be soiled. +She has answered Hébert; a juryman begs to observe that she has +not answered as to <i>this</i>. ‘I have not answered,’ she exclaims with +noble emotion, ‘because nature refuses to answer such a charge +brought against a mother. I appeal to all the mothers that are +here.’ Robespierre, when he heard of it, broke out into something +almost like swearing at the brutish blockheadism of this Hébert,⁠<a id="FNanchor_450" href="#Footnote_450" class="fnanchor">[450]</a> +on whose foul head his foul lie has recoiled. At four o’clock on +Wednesday morning, after two days and two nights of interrogating, +jury-charging, and other darkening of counsel, the result +comes out: sentence of Death! ‘Have you anything to say?’ +The Accused shook her head, without speech. Night’s candles are +burning out; and with her, too, time is finishing, and it will be +Eternity and Day. This Hall of Tinville’s is dark, ill-lighted, except +where she stands. Silently she withdraws from it, to die.</p> + +<p>“Two processions, or royal progresses, three-and-twenty years +apart, have often struck us with a strange feeling of contrast. +The first is of a beautiful arch-duchess and dauphiness, quitting +her mother’s city, at the age of fifteen, towards hopes such as no +other Daughter of Eve then had. ‘On the morrow,’ says Weber, +an eye-witness, ‘the Dauphiness left Vienna. The whole city +crowded out, at first with a sorrow which was silent. She appeared: +you saw her sunk back into her carriage, her face bathed +in tears; hiding her eyes now with her handkerchief, now with her +hands; several times putting out her head to see yet again this +Palace of her Father’s, whither she was to return no more. She +motioned her regret, her gratitude to the good Nation which was +crowding here to bid her farewell. Then arose not only tears, but +piercing cries, on all sides. Men and women alike abandoned themselves +to such expression of their sorrow. It was an audible sound +of wail in the streets and avenues of Vienna. The last courier +that followed her disappeared, and the crowd melted away.’⁠<a id="FNanchor_451" href="#Footnote_451" class="fnanchor">[451]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“The young imperial maiden of fifteen has now become a worn, +discrowned widow of thirty-eight, gray before her time. This is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">[353]</span>the last procession: ‘Few minutes after the trial ended, the drums +were beating to arms in all sections. At sunrise the armed force +was on foot, cannons getting placed at the extremities of the +bridges, in the squares, crossways, all along from the Palais de +Justice to the Place de la Révolution. By ten o’clock numerous +patrols were circulating in the streets; thirty thousand foot and +horse drawn up under arms. At eleven Marie-Antoinette was +brought out. She had on an undress of <i>piqué blanc</i>. She was led +to the place of execution in the same manner as an ordinary criminal, +bound on a cart, accompanied by a constitutional priest in lay +dress, escorted by numerous detachments of infantry and cavalry. +These and the double row of troops all along her road she appeared +to regard with indifference. On her countenance there was visible +neither abashment nor pride. To the cries of <i>Vive la République</i> +and <i>Down with Tyranny</i>, which attended her all the way, she +seemed to pay no heed. She spoke little to her confessor. The +tricolour streamers on the house-tops occupied her attention in the +streets du Roule and Saint-Honoré; she also noticed the inscriptions +on the house fronts. On reaching the Place de la Révolution, +her looks turned towards the <i>Jardin National</i>, whilom Tuileries; +her face at that moment gave signs of lively emotion. She mounted +the scaffold with courage enough. At a quarter past twelve her +head fell; the executioner showed it to the people amid universal, +long-continued cries of <i>Vive la République</i>.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_452" href="#Footnote_452" class="fnanchor">[452]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>And this was the fate reserved for her of whom Burke had said +that he thought “ten thousand swords would have leapt from +their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with +insult;”—who, on her first entry into Paris, was welcomed by a +wild sea of human beings, that surged along her line of route and +filled the vast space of the Place du Carrousel;—the fair young +dauphiness, to whom, as she looked forth from the gallery of the +Tuileries upon the swaying mass beneath, the old Duke de Brissac +gallantly said, “Madame, you have under your eyes two hundred +thousand lovers;”—the young queen who, when called upon to +share her husband’s throne, with mixed feelings of gratitude and +pride wrote thus respecting her adopted country to her mother:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">[354]</span></p> + +<p>“Though God caused me to be born in the rank I now occupy, +I cannot but admire the order of His providence which has selected +me, the last of your children, for the finest realm in Europe. I +feel more than ever how much I owe to the tenderness of my +august mother, who took so much pains and care to procure for +me this great establishment.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_453" href="#Footnote_453" class="fnanchor">[453]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“Beautiful Highborn that wert so foully hurled low!... +Oh! is there a man’s heart that thinks, without pity, of those long +months and years of slow wasting ignominy: of thy Birth, soft-cradled +in Imperial Schönbrunn, the winds of heaven not to visit +thy face too roughly, thy foot to light on softness, thy eye on +splendour; and then of thy Death, or hundred Deaths, to which +the Guillotine and Fouquier Tinville’s judgment-bar was but the +merciful end? Look <i>there</i>, O man born of woman! The bloom of +that fair face is wasted; the hair is grey with care; the brightness +of those eyes is quenched, their lids hang drooping; the face is +stony pale, as of one living in death. Mean weeds, which her own +hand has mended, attire the Queen of the World. The death-hurdle, +where thou sittest pale, motionless, which only curses +environ, has to stop; a people, drunk with vengeance, will drink +it again in full draught, looking at thee there! Far as the eye +reaches, a multitudinous sea of maniac heads; the air deaf with +their triumph-yell! The Living-dead must shudder with yet one +other pang; her startled blood yet again suffuses with the hue of +agony that pale face, which she hides with her hands. There is +no heart to say, God pity thee! O think not of these; think of +HIM whom thou worshippest, the Crucified,—who, also treading +the wine-press <i>alone</i>, fronted sorrow still deeper; and triumphed +over it, and made it holy; and built of it a ‘Sanctuary of Sorrow,’ +for thee and all the wretched! Thy path of thorns is nigh ended. +One long last look at the Tuileries, where thy step was once so +light—where thy children shall not dwell. The head is on the +block: the axe rushes—dumb lies the World. That wild-yelling +World, and all its madness, is behind thee!</p> + +<p>“Beautiful Highborn that wert so foully hurled low!... +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">[355]</span><i>Thy</i> fault in the French Revolution, was that thou wert the +Symbol of the Sin and Misery of a thousand years; that with +Saint Bartholomews, and Jacqueries, with Gabelles, and Dragonades, +and Parcs-aux-cerfs, the heart of mankind was filled full, +and foamed over in all-involving madness. To no Napoleon, to no +Cromwell wert thou wedded; such sit not in the highest rank, of +themselves; are raised on high by the shaking and confounding of +all the ranks! As poor peasants, how happy, worthy had ye two +been! But by evil destiny ye were made a King and a Queen of; +and so both once more are become an astonishment and a by-word +to all times.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_454" href="#Footnote_454" class="fnanchor">[454]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">[356]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLIII">XLIII.<br> +<span class="smcap">1792–1831.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">“NESTOR DE LA MOTTE.”—ILL GOTTEN GAIN NEVER PROSPERS.—GREEN +OLD AGE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Count de la Motte survived all the actors in the Necklace +drama, and lived to see France once more in the throes of a Revolution +and the Bourbons again dethroned—lived in fact, to the +commencement of our own era, and heard of, if he did not see, +steam-vessels daily crossing the Channel, and railways carrying +passengers upwards of twenty miles an hour.</p> + +<p>We left the count pursuing his second appeal with reference to +the Necklace case. He had not long to wait for a decision, for we +find that on July 27, 1792, the first tribunal gave judgment “on +the appeal lodged by Marc-Nicolas la Motte from the judgment +given against him on the 5th of April last by the third tribunal +established at the Palais de Justice” in the following terms:—</p> + +<p>“Whereas the complaint remitted by the procureur-général to +the former Parliament of Paris on September 7, 1785, is only +signed at the end and not on each sheet, which is contrary to law, +the present appeal is annulled, together with the judgment given +by the former Parliament of Paris on December 5, 1785.</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless, having regard to the gravity of the offence, it is +ordered that the said La Motte shall remain in custody, and that +the documents in the suit shall be hereunto annexed to serve as a +record of the proceedings, and that the same shall be brought before +the director of the jury to decide upon as he may be advised.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_455" href="#Footnote_455" class="fnanchor">[455]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The count pretends that in the first instance the judgment +said nothing whatever about his remaining in custody, and that it +was only on the Jacobin public accuser (?) rising and stating that +as no notice had been taken during the proceedings of the letters +patent issued by the king, he opposed the count’s being set at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">[357]</span>liberty, that the unpleasant addendum was made. According to +the count, the king at once offered to withdraw the letters patent, +but was overruled by the minister. In a few days it was too late; +Louis XVI. was dethroned and a prisoner at the Temple, his own +keeper of the seals, Duport du Tertre, sealing with the great seal +the order for his arrest.</p> + +<p>About this time poor M. de Laporte is also arrested and sent to +join the count in the Conciergerie, and in a week or two, after a +swift trial before the newly constituted tribunal of August 17th, +the harmless old man is sent to the guillotine. Swiftly as the new +tribunal does its work with the <i>suspects</i>, and swiftly as the newly +invented guillotine seconds it, still it is not sharp enough for revolutionary +patriotism, with Verdun fallen and the Duke of +Brunswick in full march upon the capital. By Marat and Billaud, +and Sergent and Panis and some few others, the hideous September +massacres are planned, and De la Motte is horrified at learning +that his name, with the fatal red cross against it, stands second on +the list of proscribed prisoners in the Conciergerie. The count +pretends that he and a party of fellow-prisoners secretly arm themselves +and decide upon making a desperate resistance, though +where they got their weapons from is by no means clear. According +to his version, he is provided with a dagger and a couple of +pistols, and takes up his post at the grating at the end of the +corridor, where he remains on the watch, and from whence, not +only did he see the prisoners tried, but slaughtered as well. +Throughout the night nothing is heard but the unlocking of doors +and drawing of bolts, followed by shouts, shrieks, and groans; +and an hour or so before daybreak comes the sound of heavy footsteps, +of loud voices demanding the keys, and sharp blows against +the door at the entrance to the corridor leading to their cells. All +at once the count hears his own name shouted out, and thinks the +time has now come to battle for his life. A few more blows and +the door gives way, and a band of strangers rushes in—friends, +however, and not enemies, who caress the count, clasp him to their +breasts, and carry him off triumphantly in their arms. The outside +of the prison gained, they entertain him at a neighbouring +café, and then summoning a vehicle, three of his liberators accompany +him to the Rue de Choiseul, where they insist upon his going +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">[358]</span>and at once making his demand upon the “domain” for the entire +value of his effects seized at Bar-sur-Aube in virtue of the sentence +passed upon him by the Parliament of Paris.</p> + +<p>The count of course does as he is bid, and what is most +surprising, according to his own statement, without previous notice +or proving his identity, or even the shadow of a legal claim, he +succeeds in obtaining from the “domain” a sum of thirty thousand +francs on account, twenty-seven thousand francs of which he stows +away in his pocket-book, and the remaining three thousand, which +are in assignats, he hands to his deliverers to dispose of as they +may think proper.⁠<a id="FNanchor_456" href="#Footnote_456" class="fnanchor">[456]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It was lucky for the count that he had been transferred to the +Conciergerie, for at the time the foregoing scenes were being enacted +in this prison, this is what was transpiring at La Force, where the +count was originally confined. “At one o’clock in the morning of +September 3rd,” writes Maton de la Varenne,⁠<a id="FNanchor_457" href="#Footnote_457" class="fnanchor">[457]</a> “the gate leading +to our quarter was again opened. Four men in uniform, each with +a drawn sabre and blazing torch, mounted our corridor, preceded by +a turnkey, and entered a room close to ours to search a box which +we heard them break open. This done, they halted in the gallery +and began questioning one Cuissa to know where La Motte was. +La Motte, they said, under a pretext of finding a treasure which +they were to share in, had swindled one of them out of three +hundred livres, having asked him to dinner for that purpose. The +wretched Cuissa, whom they had in their power, and who lost his +life that night, answered trembling that he remembered the circumstance +well, but did not know what had become of La Motte. +Determined to find La Motte, and confront him with Cuissa, they +ascended to other rooms and made further search there, but +evidently without success, for I heard them say, ‘Let’s look +among the corpses then, for in God’s name he must be found!’”</p> + +<p>The count had not long regained his liberty before he was discovered +by his niece, daughter of Madame de la Tour, she who as +a child had taken part in the famous incantation scene enacted by +Cagliostro at the Palais-Cardinal, and of which the countess made +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">[359]</span>so much at the Necklace trial. The game of appealing and petitioning +against the judgment rendered in the Necklace trial being +now up, and it being the duty of all patriots to hurl back foreign +invasion, Count de la Motte returns to his old profession of arms, +raises a company of cavalry, composed chiefly of former friends in +the gendarmerie, gets appointed captain, has his troop reviewed by +the colonel on the Boulevards, and next day finds himself denounced +by patriot Burlandeux, who charges him with being both +royalist and aristocrat, and swears that the company he has joined +is composed entirely of men of his own stamp, with not a single +<i>sans-culotte</i> among them. The count not desiring to return to his +old quarters in the Conciergerie—for again there with Danton as +minister of justice, the chances are that he would only leave them +for the guillotine—is glad enough to return his sword to its +scabbard, and accept a passport for his native town of Bar-sur-Aube.</p> + +<p>On his arrival there he finds the great pavilion attached to his +house occupied by the provincial directory, which necessitates his +furnishing a few rooms in the house itself for his own accommodation. +Having done this, he proceeds to Tonnerre to fetch his +sister and niece, who have taken up their residence there. At +Tonnerre the count stays for several weeks, smitten with the +charms, or possibly the expectations, of a young lady, only +daughter of a rich proprietor. “I was thirty-six,” remarks he—he +was upwards of thirty-eight—“but I did not look so old; she +was eighteen.” The count finding himself favoured in his suit, asks +the hand of mademoiselle in marriage, and is accepted.</p> + +<p>Time passes pleasantly enough for the next month or two; the +count is installed in the old house at Bar-sur-Aube, and has his +sister and niece residing with him. The shooting season is on, and +only give the count his dog and his gun and he will not lack for +amusement. Of course he makes frequent journeys to Tonnerre, +although something like fifty miles of cross roads intervene between +the two places; but what are these to a man in love, who has been +accustomed to the saddle too all his life? How he manages to live +at this time he does not condescend to tell us. There are no more +sealed money packages from poor old Laporte. Was it on the balance +of the assignats which he received from the domain?—if he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">[360]</span>ever did receive what he states—or was it upon his sister, Madame +de la Tour? We think the latter the most probable. M. de la +Tour had emigrated, and the count’s anxiety that his sister +should live with him arose, we expect, from his desire to live on her.</p> + +<p>It is at this time, November, 1792, that the king is brought to +trial; the count is nervously anxious for news of the result of the +proceedings, simply because, as he admits, he still entertained some +faint hopes of being able to obtain a further supply of cash from the +dethroned monarch. Louis XVI. dead, the count is reduced to his +shadowy claim on the domain.</p> + +<p>During the next eighteen months, De la Motte leads the life of a +country gentleman at Bar-sur-Aube. He hunts, and shoots, and +fishes, and cultivates his little plot of land, and rides constantly +over to Tonnerre. The queen is now brought to trial, and he is +appealed to, he says, to come to Paris and depose against her, but +declines to do so. “In my opinion,” observes this contemptible +hypocrite, professing to believe in his wife’s pretended intimacy +with Marie-Antoinette, “the queen was not so blamable (in the +Necklace affair) as Madame de la Motte believed. In her position +it was difficult to interfere between the law and its victim. I was +persuaded this sacrifice had cost the queen much, and I had had +proofs of the goodness of her heart.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_458" href="#Footnote_458" class="fnanchor">[458]</a> In May, 1794, the count +proceeds to Paris to urge his claim against the domain, which claim +of his has now become as much his fixed idea as the revision of his +sentence in the Necklace trial was a year or two ago. He met, +however, with no success; and after two months spent in wearying +appeals, returns home again, balked in all his plans, and thoroughly +disgusted to find that Bar-sur-Aube has now its revolutionary committee, +and its denouncers of <i>suspects</i>, and is by no means a secure +place to reside in. Tonnerre, he thinks, will be more preferable, so +to Tonnerre he hies, but only to find that it also has its denouncers. +The count hastens home again, and finds his sister and niece already +arrested as the wife and daughter of an <i>émigré</i>; thinking his turn +will not be long in coming, he keeps his horse ready saddled in his +stable, puts a pair of pistols in the holsters, and prepares to ride +away at the first signal of danger.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">[361]</span></p> + +<p>With the view of keeping in with the revolutionary party, the +count gives a supper to the members of the committee, after which +proof of patriotism they grant him a certificate of citizenship in +proper form. Protected by this, he returns to Tonnerre, and proceeds +to take the necessary steps for his marriage. But the municipality +will not permit the banns to be published until the count +produces a certificate of the countess’s death, and this, owing to the +war with England, he is unable to procure. Back to Bar-sur-Aube +the count rides again and obtains such certificate as he can from +the authorities there—his uncle, M. de Suremont, the same that +had to disgorge the jewels belonging to the count which he had +appropriated—being mayor at the time. Ere, however, the count +can return to Tonnerre he is arrested by order of a government +commissioner, and carried off by a couple of <i>militaires</i> to Troyes, to +the same prison where his sister and niece are already confined. +Here the time seems to have passed pleasantly enough with music, +singing, reading of plays and flirtations between the male and female +prisoners. Among the latter is the “wife of an <i>émigré</i>, with a +charming daughter of eighteen”—eighteen seems to have been +an irresistible age with the count. “Not having,” says he, in the +coolest manner, “any further relations with the people of Tonnerre”—although +he was about setting out to his wedding at the very +time he was arrested—“I decided upon marrying this young +person.”</p> + +<p>Fortunately for the count, Robespierre’s fall takes place at this +period, and he and his fellow-prisoners regain their liberty. On +returning to Bar-sur-Aube he finds that all his arms and horses have +been appropriated by the officers who arrested him, and that they +and his servants have pretty well stripped his house between them. +He at once institutes proceedings in the local courts, obtains a +judgment by default, and the two <i>militaires</i> are cast in damages for +fifty thousand francs, which damages the count of course hopes to +get some day or other. At any rate, thenceforward these fifty +thousands francs become his fixed idea, and we hear no more of his +claim against the domain.</p> + +<p>The count, being sadly in need of ready cash, sells his house—that +house on which so large a portion of the proceeds from the +sale of the famous Necklace had been squandered, to the postmaster +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">[362]</span>of Bar-sur-Aube. The commodious stables serve admirably for the +post-master’s stud of horses, the elegantly decorated <i>salons</i> and +<i>chambres à coucher</i> furnish handsome reception and sleeping rooms +for his guests. The great pavilion is reserved for the count’s own +use for the space of a year; and here he, his wife—for he has +married the charming young lady of eighteen—and his mother-in-law, +for a time reside. At the commencement of 1796 they remove +to what the count describes as a charming hermitage, surrounded +by woods and waterfalls and lovely views, and where they farm their +own land, and live a life of country ease. Several years—happy +ones after a fashion, one would suppose—thus glide by, until at +length the count’s mother-in-law, weary of the woods and the waterfalls +and the charming views, urges him to go to Paris. Horses, +bullocks, cows, pigs, poultry, and standing crops are forthwith sold, +and to Paris the family betake themselves. Bonaparte is now first +consul; the count obtains an audience of him, presents a petition, +and is told by the great man that he remembers seeing him years +ago at Brienne. Nothing, however, comes of the petition, and spite +of all his efforts the count cannot find the two officers against whom +he has the judgment for fifty thousand francs. For some years he +seems to live in Paris agreeably enough—no doubt on the resources +of his mother-in-law—spending his time between the Palais Royal +and the Boulevards, and ever on the look-out for the two <i>militaires</i> +who plundered his house at Bar-sur-Aube. At last, by a lucky +chance, he tracks out one of them, has him arrested, and after various +legal proceedings, is disgusted at seeing him set at liberty on the +ground that the government had granted a general amnesty for +all acts done in service of the state at this period of national +trouble.</p> + +<p>Year after year rolls by, and the count witnesses the establishment +of the Empire, the fall of Napoleon, and his consignment to +the Isle of Elba, and the return of the Bourbons to France, to bring +about which latter event he took most energetic steps. Beugnot, +whom the reader will remember as the young barrister of Bar-sur-Aube, +and who has managed to keep his head upon his shoulders +during the revolutionary whirl, finds himself appointed minister of +police, having already had the title of count conferred upon him by +Napoleon. De la Motte loses not a moment in appealing to his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">[363]</span>former rival to serve an old friend and fellow-townsman, and +Beugnot, knowing perfectly well the count’s tastes, and precisely +what he is fitted for, gets the farmer of the gambling tables in the +Palais Royal—the leases of which Beugnot, in his capacity of +police minister, had to renew—to give him some congenial berth. +The count pretends that it was simply a pension of two hundred +francs a month which he received from Bernard, the lessee of the +gambling saloons, and that he accepted this with great repugnance. +It is far more probable that he had to do something for his paltry +pittance—act, for example, as decoy duck, and entice all the game +he could to fowler Bernard’s net. Whichever it may have been, +post or pension simply, the count lost it before a year was over, +when Napoleon was again ruler of France.</p> + +<p>At the second return of the Bourbons after the battle of Waterloo, +Count Beugnot is named postmaster-general. De la Motte again +seeks him out, and obtains a letter from him to Bernard, who reinstates +him in his former position, and such as it was, the count +manages to hold it for a couple of years or so, when he gets his dismissal. +Of course he flies off to complain to Beugnot, but Beugnot +can do nothing for him; he however promises to see if he can serve +the count in some other way. Eventually he appoints the count’s +sister, Madame de la Tour, postmistress at Bar-sur-Aube, but to the +count himself he gives no sort of place.</p> + +<p>“At this epoch” (1817), writes the count, in dolorous strain, +“I had just lost successively my sister-in-law (Mademoiselle de +Saint-Remi), my wife, and my mother-in-law. My son, aged fifteen, +had determined upon proceeding to Guadaloupe with the first battalion +ordered to that colony. I was therefore alone in the world, +without consolation, without help, without even the means of +existence. Sent away from one hotel after another through default +of payment, humiliated at being obliged to receive from my acquaintances +the smallest pittance, that too frequently proved insufficient +for my most pressing wants, I felt my courage forsake me, and all +I thought of was putting an end to a life of so much misery.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_459" href="#Footnote_459" class="fnanchor">[459]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Being without the means of procuring a pistol, the count informs +us that he resolved on throwing himself into the Seine. Instead, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">[364]</span>however, of doing this from one of the quays, or from the banks of +the river in the immediate suburbs, he makes a long country +journey to Franconville-la-Garenne, several miles away from the +Seine at its nearest point. This gives him opportunity for reflection, +and he abandons his suicidal intentions and returns to Paris determined +to present a petition to the king. It is curious to find the +count in his old age returning to the old De la Motte de Valois +practice of memorializing the crown. Times, however, had changed, +and there were too many petitioners with real grievances pressing +their claims upon the Bourbons for any of the De la Motte de Valois +kith or kin to stand a shadow of a chance. As luck would have it, +when the count reached Paris, after a tramp of at least twenty miles, +he encountered a friend who gave him a good breakfast, and made +him some fair promises which put him in spirits again. He now +prepares his petition, and sends it to Marshal Beurnonville with a +letter for the Duke de Chartres. In a few days the count receives +a reply. The duke has forwarded his petition to his majesty, who +has remitted it, accompanied by a recommendation of his own, to +the minister of his household. The count rubs his hands at this +good news, and anxiously waits for further intelligence. At last a +friend undertakes to make inquiries for him at the ministerial +bureau, and learns <i>Sacré Dieu!</i> that all petitions accompanied by +special recommendations from the king are stowed away in pigeonholes +on their receipt, and are never seen or heard of more. The +count hastens to the marshal in a frantic state of mind; the +marshal does what he can to pacify him, and, as a matter of course, +exhorts him to be patient. Patient! poor comfort this to a man +reduced “to live upon horse-beans and boiled potatoes without +seasoning, and rarely tasting even bread,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_460" href="#Footnote_460" class="fnanchor">[460]</a> and whose span of life +is well-nigh drawn out to the allotted three score years and ten.</p> + +<p>The count, in his depth of misery again resolves upon suicide, +and again sets forth on a long journey before executing his purpose. +When night sets in he is almost twenty miles from Paris. Selecting +a favourable spot, the old man proceeds to put his design into +execution. First of all he ties up his pocket-book, containing the +letters of the duke and the marshal, in his handkerchief, to which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">[365]</span>he attaches a heavy stone or two, and then sinks it in the stream. +He next flings in his hat and cane, and prepares to follow them, +but his courage forsakes him. Even at well nigh three score and +ten the love of life proves too strong. In the dark waters before +him the count sees, he says, only waves of blood, and suddenly +visions of the hideous night of September 2nd rise vividly before +his eyes. Rushing from the river’s brink he gains a meadow, where +he lays himself down and sleeps. On awaking he walks for upwards +of a couple of hours in the direction of Paris, and eventually +finds himself on the road to Choisy. Seeing a light in one of the +houses of the village he makes for it, and fortunately finds a man +stirring, of whom he begs a draught of water, telling him that he +has been attacked and robbed by thieves. The man, compassionating +his miserable appearance, gives him a glass of wine instead, +and a stout stick to help him forward on the road, and after a brief +rest the count resumes his journey. He goes again to his old friend, +the same who gave him the breakfast on his return from a similar +expedition, tells him of his second adventure, and is again relieved +by him.</p> + +<p>After having allowed his process against the two <i>militaires</i> to +slumber for some years, the count revives it again, and +applies to a matrimonial agent to take it up, but it being quite +out of this man’s line of business, he, on the tanner’s principle of +there being nothing like leather, suggests matrimony to the count +as the best way of surmounting his misfortunes—informing him +that he has an old dowager on his books who is mad to marry one of +the <i>ancien régime</i>. The count is nothing loth; so an interview is +arranged, and an invitation to dinner follows; and the count, got +up for the occasion, presents himself at the old lady’s house, of +which he already looks forward to being master. He is shocked, +however, at the number of children and grandchildren he is introduced +to, and still more shocked at the want of manners of the +little brats, and especially at an episode which transpires at the +dinner-table, and which delicacy will not permit us to describe. +The dinner, which was of the noisiest, in due course comes to an +end, and with it the count’s brief courtship of the dowager who +was mad to marry a man of the <i>ancien régime</i>.</p> + +<p>For a year or two longer the old count drags on a miserable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">[366]</span>existence. He succeeds in getting a lawyer to take up his case +against the two officers, and obtains from him an advance of five +hundred francs. Five hundred francs! why the old count must +have been as delighted as he was in the old days when he came +over from England with drafts on Perregaux for between two and +three hundred times five hundred francs. This slice of luck puts +him once more in clover for a time, but only for a time, for although +the case prospers at the outset, it is finally decided against +him, and starvation again stares him in the face. At this moment +a dislocated limb forces the wretched old man to take refuge in the +Hôpital de la Charité, and here he remains for many weary months. +“It was while I was in this hospital,” says the count, “that M. +Panisset came to see me, and found me on my bed of suffering, and +made me certain proposals on the part of M. de Lavan, prefect of +police.” <a id="FNanchor_461" href="#Footnote_461" class="fnanchor">[461]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>When the count was sufficiently recovered to come abroad, his +first visit was to M. de Lavan, at the prefecture. “In 1825,” says +M. Feuillet de Conches, “a man bowed down by age and misery +presented himself at M. de Lavan’s bureau, and was received by +the chief of his cabinet, a person of rare merit and distinguished +character, M. Duplessis. It was Count de la Motte, who came to +ask bread. M. Duplessis conversed with him respecting the Necklace +affair, and suggested that he should write his memoirs, including +his reminiscences of this mysterious incident. La Motte +thereupon wrote what was suggested, and with every appearance +of good faith. His notes only confirmed the details which were +already known. The queen’s memory had no need of being cleared +by a poor broken-down wretch who, after having helped to cast +dirt upon her august fame by contributing to the atrocious calumnies +of his wife, now came forward to deny them under the stroke +of misery, in presence of a royalist government. Still it was no +less precious to have an authentic denial written by one of the +principal actors in this too famous drama, an old man, worn down +by misfortune, but retaining all his intelligence, understanding the +character of the atonement, and accepting it, according to the +opinion of M. Duplessis, with resignation and good faith. Out of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">[367]</span>respect to memories, become almost saint-like; out of respect, +above all, to the daughter of Louis XVI., (to whom the resuscitation +of the name of La Motte, upon which evil-disposed people would +have been certain to comment, would have been the cause of considerable +grief,) M. de Lavan thought it best to envelop in obscurity +the few days this unfortunate being had still to live.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_462" href="#Footnote_462" class="fnanchor">[462]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“The pretensions of M. de la Motte,” remarks M. Campardon, +“were exceedingly modest. All he asked was an annuity of from +three hundred to four hundred francs for life, and his admission +into the Hospice de Chaillot.” During the last years of his existence, +the count, who was commonly known by the nickname of +“Valois-Collier,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_463" href="#Footnote_463" class="fnanchor">[463]</a> is said to have taken his daily stroll beneath the +famous “Galeries de Bois” of the Palais Royal, which stood where +the present handsome Galérie d’Orléans now stands, and from +being a favourite resort of the Russian officers belonging to the +army of occupation had come to be derisively styled the Tartars’ +Camp. To the very last, therefore, the Count affected the neighbourhood +of his old haunts, the gambling saloons of the Palais +Royal. Overwhelmed by infirmity and misery, he died in the +month of November, 1831, having almost attained his eightieth +year.⁠<a id="FNanchor_464" href="#Footnote_464" class="fnanchor">[464]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">[368]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLIV">XLIV.<br> +<span class="smcap">1786–1866.</span><br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">THE CROWN JEWELLERS.—THE END OF THE NECKLACE CASE.—HISTORY +AGAIN REPEATS ITSELF.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>To render our narrative complete, it is necessary we should inform +the reader how it fared with the crown jewellers—Böhmer and +Bassenge, “Au Grand Balcon,” Rue Vendôme—and what was the +final upshot of the famous Necklace case. In the first place the +jewellers never received a single <i>sou</i> of the rich revenues of the +abbey of Saint Waast—computed to produce 300,000 livres a +year, and really yielding 225,000 livres, which had been assigned to +them. Among their many creditors was M. Nicolas Deville, the +king’s secretary, to whom they owed 900,602 livres, and to whom +they re-assigned the aforesaid revenues for the liquidation of their +debt; but unfortunately the Revolution came, and with it the sale +of the property of the church for the benefit of the nation, so M. +Nicolas Deville in his turn did not receive a <i>sou</i>. Meanwhile, +Böhmer and Bassenge became bankrupt. The Cardinal de Rohan +at his death left behind him a will by which he appointed the Princess +Charlotte de Rohan-Rochefort his residuary legatee, and she +accepted administration of the estate on condition that she should +not be held responsible to the creditors for any deficiency that +might exist.</p> + +<p>At the time of the cardinal’s decease he possessed considerable +landed property in Baden, and personal property to a large +amount, consisting in part of money lent to his relatives, the +Prince and Princess de Guéménée, and the Duke de Montbazon, +which the princess neglected to recover, and which was consequently +lost. The princess sold the lands in Baden, and divided the proceeds +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">[369]</span>among a few favoured creditors, but Deville obtained little or nothing. +After the Restoration—when all the property remaining +unsold was returned to its former owners or their heirs, and an indemnity +was granted for what had been sold—the princess, it is +said, neglected the interests of the creditors by omitting to recover +the sums due to the cardinal’s estate, and especially those owing by +the Guéménée family.</p> + +<p>For this evident neglect of her duty as executrix, it was maintained +that the princess was responsible in the persons of her heirs, +notwithstanding the conditions under which she had undertaken to +administer the cardinal’s will. In accordance with this view, so +recently as the year 1864 an action was brought before the Civil +Tribunal of the Seine by the heirs of M. Deville against the Princes +de Rohan-Rochefort, as representatives of the Princess Charlotte +de Rohan-Rochefort, to recover the principal sum for which +the assignment of the Saint Waast revenues had been given, together +with cumulative interest, amounting in the whole to upwards +of 2,000,000 francs; but it was argued for the defence that +the cardinal’s estate had been properly administered by the princess, +that the plaintiffs had received the same share as the other +creditors, and that they had no legal claim on the defendants. +The tribunal took this view of the case, and accordingly rejected +the plaintiff’s demand with costs. Such was the end, after the +lapse of nearly four score years, of perhaps the most famous <i>cause +célèbre</i> of all time, known in the annals of French jurisprudence as +the <i>Affaire du Collier</i>.</p> + +<p>Just as the Countess de la Motte was, to some extent, the imitator +of certain female swindlers of her own era, so has she found +imitators in this our own time. Almost at the moment we are +writing⁠<a id="FNanchor_465" href="#Footnote_465" class="fnanchor">[465]</a> Paris is talking about an act of swindling which bears a +certain resemblance to the Diamond Necklace fraud. It seems +that, in the month of February, 1866, a jeweller in Paris, M. +Cramer, received a letter sealed with the Prussian arms, and signed +“Comte de Schaffgotsch,” chamberlain of her majesty the Queen +of Prussia, in which he was asked if he was willing to undertake +the execution of some models, in brilliants, of a new order which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">[370]</span>the Queen of Prussia intended to create. The jeweller immediately +accepted the commission, and several days afterwards there +arrived some drawings understood to have been executed by the +queen herself. The jeweller set to work forthwith, and in the +course of a few weeks he transmitted to Berlin a magnificent cross +surrounded with diamonds. In reply, he received a letter of congratulation +accompanied by an order for a dozen more diamond +crosses, with a further promise of an order for the crown of the +Prince of Hohenzollern as sovereign of the Danubian Principalities. +The jeweller was the happiest of men. His fortune was evidently +made; but when and how was he to forward the crosses? The +count replied that he was just then charged with a diplomatic +mission, and would be at Cologne on a particular day, when the +decorations could be awaiting him at the chief banker’s in that +town.</p> + +<p>The jeweller accordingly sends the crosses to the house of Oppenheim +and Co., informing them that they were to be delivered to the +chamberlain of the Queen of Prussia. Some days afterwards the +count informed the bankers by letter that he would pass through +the town at a certain hour, and begged of them to forward to him +the jeweller’s parcel by the hands of one of their clerks. This was +accordingly done, and the jeweller is subsequently informed by +letter that the Queen of Prussia is delighted with the crosses, some +more of which her majesty requires.</p> + +<p>But nothing was said as to payment, and the jeweller, uneasy in +mind, did at last what he should have done at first. He called +upon the Prussian ambassador at Paris, who informed him that he +had been dealing with a knave, and that the letters were all forged. +The jeweller, in a state of great consternation, sets out, under the +advice of the ambassador, for Baden, where the Queen of Prussia +then is, and obtains an audience of her majesty, by whom he is +assured that she is an entire stranger to the whole story of the +diamond crosses.</p> + +<p>On his return to Paris M. Cramer receives another letter from +the pretended count, who insinuates this time that he might himself +be decorated with the order of the Red Eagle. The jeweller, +however, was now on his guard. The police were communicated +with, and they managed to draw the fox into the trap. He was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">[371]</span>found to be a man of good family, the son of an old general, and +holding rank and title at the Prussian court, but whom a passion +for gambling had ruined. The police seized, at the hotel where he +put up in Paris, all the jeweller’s letters, some diamonds detached +from the crosses, with several visiting cards, having the name of the +Count von Schaffgotsch on them, together with a blank stamp bearing +the arms of the Queen of Prussia. Owing possibly to the +high connections of the culprit, the case would appear to have +been compromised, for nothing more was heard of this last Diamond +swindle.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">[372]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLV">XLV.<br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">SUMMING UP OF THE EVIDENCE AGAINST MARIE-ANTOINETTE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The reader who has accompanied us step by step in our narrative, +who has weighed our statements one by one, and noted the authorities +on which these are based, is perhaps already satisfied of +Marie-Antoinette’s complete innocence of any kind of participation +in the great fraud of the Diamond Necklace, and is convinced of +the falsity of the charges brought against her with regard to her +presumed intercourse with the Cardinal de Rohan. Should any +doubt still linger in his mind, this will be removed, we imagine, on +an examination of the annexed summary of facts. If we prove two +things, that the queen was in no degree mixed up in the Necklace +affair, and that she held no kind of intercourse with Madame de la +Motte, then the whole of the countess’s calumnies respecting the +correspondence carried on between the queen and the cardinal, +and their secret meetings at the Little Trianon, necessarily fall to +the ground.</p> + +<p>Whatever may have been the follies, or say the crimes even, if +you please, of which Marie-Antoinette was guilty, and which she +more than expiated by her cruel death, complicity in any shape in +this contemptible Diamond Necklace fraud is most certainly not +one of them.</p> + +<p>In the first place, if the Countess de la Motte had been that intimate +confidant of the queen which she pretended she was, however +secret their relations may have been, she would still have been +able to have brought forward some shadow of proof of their existence, +some trifling souvenir, for instance, the former possession of which +might have been traced to Marie-Antoinette, some little scrap of +her handwriting, even though undated and unsigned, some single +witness who had once seen her in the queen’s presence, or in the +queen’s apartments, even though this had been a discarded servant, +such as the “<i>bonne citoyenne</i>,” the “<i>excellente patriote</i>,” Reine Millot, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">[373]</span>who deposed against her royal mistress at her trial.⁠<a id="FNanchor_466" href="#Footnote_466" class="fnanchor">[466]</a> Evidence +directly compromising the queen in the Necklace affair would perhaps +not have been forthcoming at the time of the trial before the +Court of Parliament, even if it had been the interest of either party +to have produced it; but during the long years of the Revolution, +when the name and memory of Marie-Antoinette were objects of +the bitterest hate and scorn, some one among the many individuals +acquainted with the intrigues of the court might have been expected +to have broken this forced silence, if from no other motive than +personal vanity.</p> + +<p>And yet not a scintilla of evidence, true or false, against the +queen has come to light. In none of the memoirs or letters of the +time, written by those who had opportunities of knowing something +of the facts, do we find the slightest accusation against the queen +with regard to the Diamond Necklace. No one has stated that she +was ever seen either with the Necklace itself, or any of the loose +diamonds composing part of it, in her possession. No one connected +with the court, neither Besenval nor De Lauzun, both on +terms of closest intimacy with, and both, to some extent, detractors +of the queen, has stated that Madame de la Motte was ever once +seen in the queen’s company, but all who have made allusion to +her, like Lacretelle, Besenval, and Madame Campan, have stated +precisely the reverse.⁠<a id="FNanchor_467" href="#Footnote_467" class="fnanchor">[467]</a> If she was in almost daily communication +with the queen, as she pretended was the case, she must have been +constantly seen by some of the inferior servants; her friend the +gatekeeper of the Little Trianon, for instance, or the <i>valet de +chambre</i>, Desclaux, who, when the queen had perished by the +guillotine, and there was no longer any motive for preserving +silence, would have talked of the affair for talking’s sake.</p> + +<p>What, we may ask, could have been the motive that instigated +Marie-Antoinette to obtain possession of the Necklace? It was +certainly not for the purpose of wearing it, for no one ever pretended +to have seen it on her person. It was not with the object +of selling it piecemeal, to stave off some pressing pecuniary difficulty, +for the De la Mottes had the whole of the proceeds; and in +none of the contradictory statements made by them did they ever +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">[374]</span>pretend they were selling the diamonds on the queen’s behalf. +The statement the count made to the jewellers was, that he inherited +the diamonds from his mother; then their joint statement +was, that they sold them on behalf of the cardinal; while their final +statement was, that they were a present to the countess from the +queen, the wage in fact for the dishonourable service which she so +unblushingly asserts she rendered to Marie-Antoinette. Supposing +the queen to have had some motive for possessing the Necklace which +we cannot penetrate, would she have purchased it through such a +doubtful pair of agencies as the Countess de la Motte and the +Cardinal de Rohan? The French court’s resources may have been impoverished, +still the royal credit was not yet at a discount, and even if +the queen could not have acquired the Necklace on her own terms of +credit, yet, considering the readiness with which <i>fermier-général</i> +Béranger parted with his two hundred thousand livres, she would +have had no difficulty in raising whatever amount she required +among men of his stamp, such as Baudard de Saint-James and others.</p> + +<p>As there is no direct evidence of the queen’s having ever had the +Necklace, or any of the diamonds belonging to it, let us see what +indirect evidence there is that they were never in her possession.</p> + +<p>On the 1st of February, 1785, Böhmer and Bassenge deliver the +Necklace to the cardinal, who states that it was handed over the +same evening to some man professing to be the bearer of a note +from the queen, by Madame de la Motte in his presence. The +cardinal asserts the man to have been Rétaux de Villette, and the +countess’s maid-servant deposes to having admitted him to her +mistress’s apartment just about the hour named. On the 8th of +February, within the week, the negotiation with Bette d’Étienville +is opened, and he is soon after applied to to go to Holland, and +dispose of a large quantity of diamonds. On February 12, the +countess commissions Villette to sell some of the diamonds which +belonged to the Necklace, and on the 15th he is found offering +them for sale. Early in March the count gives Furet, the clockmaker, +two diamonds, on account of some clocks he purchased of +him; and shortly afterwards the countess is found selling diamonds +to both Paris and Regnier, the jewellers, and leaving other diamonds +with the latter to have reset. On the 10th of April the count goes +to London, having with him, according to Gray, <i>fully half</i> of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">[375]</span>diamonds belonging to the Necklace, and among them <i>all the more +valuable ones</i>. Of this half, Gray states that he bought upwards +of two-thirds.</p> + +<p>Count de la Motte, in his narrative, admits having sold to Gray +what he calls the eighteen oval stones, also thirteen stones of the +first quality, six stones forming the two trefoils, four stones between +the rose and tassels, sixteen stones from the tassels, in all +fifty-seven stones. But Gray, in his declaration, states that he +bought eight stones from the <i>fil autour</i> (the row of diamonds that +encircled the neck), the large pendant brilliant suspended to the +centre festoon, eighty of the stones forming the <i>esclavage</i>, some +(say one-half) of the brilliants forming the two bands at the sides, +namely, forty-eight; also four stones at the heads of the tassels, +twelve stones from the lower part of the tassels, and thirty smaller +stones also belonging to the tassels, in all one hundred and eighty-three +stones (instead of fifty-seven according to the count’s version), +and for which Count de la Motte received in money and goods +about two hundred and sixty thousand livres. The count admits +having given to Gray twenty-eight stones to set as drop earrings, +twenty-two stones from the festoons to make into a necklace, and +the button stone to set as a ring, in all fifty-one stones. Gray +however declared that he received sixty-one stones for these +various purposes.</p> + +<p>Madame de la Motte admits having sold to Paris first twenty-two +and then sixteen stones, in all thirty-eight stones, for which +she received thirty-one thousand livres. She moreover exchanged +one stone with a Jew for some china pomade pots and gave +Regnier a couple of large stones to mount in rings. The count +admits having changed with Furet two of the festoon stones, for +which he was allowed two thousand seven hundred livres, having +sold or given to Regnier to mount sixteen stones from the tassels, +twenty-four very small stones from the sides of the oval stones at +the bottom of the tassels, twenty-eight stones encircling the oval +pendants, two small stones on each side of the button, six small +stones supporting the oval stones between the festoons, and twelve +small stones immediately adjoining the ribbon at the top, in all +eighty-eight stones. The eight stones encircling the button, and +the four stones which supported the tassels, the count admits +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">[376]</span>having in his possession, but they were not at this time unmounted.⁠<a id="FNanchor_468" href="#Footnote_468" class="fnanchor">[468]</a> +In addition to the foregoing we must not omit to note +the forty small stones which were intrusted to Rétaux de Villette +to sell, and for which, no doubt, a market had been long since +found in Paris.</p> + +<p>The diamonds, therefore, which the De la Mottes themselves +admitted the possession of, and those which were proved to have +been in their hands, seem to have been as follows:</p> + +<table> + <tr> + <td>Sold to Gray</td> + <td class="tdpg">183</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Mounted by Gray</td> + <td class="tdpg">61</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Sold to Paris</td> + <td class="tdpg">38</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Exchanged with Furet</td> + <td class="tdpg">2</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Exchanged with a Jew</td> + <td class="tdpg">1</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Mounted by Regnier in rings</td> + <td class="tdpg">2</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Sold to, and mounted by Regnier</td> + <td class="tdpg">88</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Remaining in Count de la Motte’s possession</td> + <td class="tdpg">12</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Intrusted to Villette to sell</td> + <td class="tdpg">40</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdpg total">427<br></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p>As the Necklace contained six hundred and twenty-nine stones, +and four hundred and twenty-seven of these were traceable to the +De la Mottes, leaving simply two hundred and two, or less than +one-third to be accounted for, it follows that Count de la Motte’s +statement, to the effect that the queen, or say anybody else even, +had “kept two hundred and fifty-six diamonds, comprising the +most beautiful part of the Necklace, with ninety-eight small +diamonds, and the two finest diamonds of the first size,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_469" href="#Footnote_469" class="fnanchor">[469]</a> in all +three hundred and fifty-six diamonds, was, like the generality of +his statements respecting the Necklace, a gross lie.</p> + +<p>The diamonds parted with seem to have realized the following +amounts:</p> + +<table> + <tr> + <td>Gray</td> + <td class="tdpg">260,000</td> + <td>livres or francs.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Paris</td> + <td class="tdpg">31,000</td> + <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Furet</td> + <td class="tdpg">2,700</td> + <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>Regnier</td> + <td class="tdpg">27,000</td> + <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdpg total">320,700</td> + <td>livres, or about £12,800.</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p>Madame de la Motte, in her second memorial, puts down the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">[377]</span>amount received from Paris at 38,000 livres and from Regnier, in +money and goods, 58,000 livres, equivalent to an increase of +38,000 livres or upwards of £1,500 to the foregoing amount, +bringing up the sum total to £14,300 sterling. If to this we +add the value of what the count calls the button stone, for which +one thousand guineas were offered him in England, and of the two +large brilliants set by Regnier as rings, and valued by him at twenty-five +thousand livres, together with the value of the necklace and +earrings set by Gray, of the diamond-mounted <i>bonbonnière</i>,⁠<a id="FNanchor_470" href="#Footnote_470" class="fnanchor">[470]</a> of the +pair of drop earrings set by Regnier, of the eight diamonds encircling +the button, and the four others which supported the +tassels, together with the forty small stones which Villette tried to +sell, we shall arrive at a gross total little short of £20,000.</p> + +<p>The Countess de la Motte states that, during one of her confrontations +with the Cardinal de Rohan, she said out loud to him, +in presence of the judges: “Ever since these gentlemen have +been putting interrogatories to us, you know that neither you nor +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">[378]</span>I have told them a word of truth:”⁠<a id="FNanchor_471" href="#Footnote_471" class="fnanchor">[471]</a> so far as she was concerned, +possibly about the truest thing she ever said. To show how unworthy +of credit the generality of her statements at the trial were, +we will run rapidly through her examinations, and pick out simply +such of her assertions as are contradicted by independent testimony, +or which she subsequently contradicted herself. Of those +numerous statements made by her which the cardinal maintained to +be false, we shall say nothing.</p> + +<p>Lie 1. That she had never represented she had access to the +queen (<a href="#Page_220">p. 220</a>).⁠<a id="FNanchor_472" href="#Footnote_472" class="fnanchor">[472]</a> She told Grenier that she had reinstated the +cardinal in the good graces of the queen, who dared refuse her +nothing (<a href="#Page_237">p. 237</a>).</p> + +<p>2. That she had never shown any letters purporting to be from +the queen, for she had never been honoured with any such letters +(<a href="#Page_220">p. 220</a>). Putting aside D’Oliva’s evidence on this subject (<a href="#Page_237">p. 237</a>), +we have that of Grenier, who expressly states that she showed him +a letter which she said had been written to her by the queen, but +would not allow him to read it (<a href="#Page_237">p. 237</a>).</p> + +<p>3. That all she knew of D’Oliva was from casually meeting her +in the Palais Royal (<a href="#Page_220">p. 220</a>). She never met her in the Palais +Royal, as she herself subsequently admitted.</p> + +<p>4. That she had never told D’Oliva she was a lady of the court, +on terms of intimacy with the queen (<a href="#Page_221">p. 221</a>).</p> + +<p>5. That she had never shown D’Oliva letters purporting to have +been written by the queen (<a href="#Page_221">p. 221</a>). If not, why, at the confrontation, +did she wink at D’Oliva, and make signs to her, at this part +of her evidence? (<a href="#Page_237">p. 237</a>).</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">[379]</span></p> + +<p>6. That the entire story of dressing up D’Oliva to personate the +queen, and of the midnight meeting in the park, was a foolish and +incredible fable, most wretchedly concocted by the cardinal (<a href="#Page_221">p. 221</a>). +Subsequently she admits its truth, but pretends the meeting was a +mere pleasantry got up to quiet the cardinal (<a href="#Page_245">p. 245</a>). Afterwards, +in her “Mémoires Justificatifs,” she says it was all arranged at the +suggestion of the queen (<a href="#Page_87">p. 87</a>).</p> + +<p>7. That she never gave one thousand or three thousand livres, +or any money whatever, to D’Oliva (<a href="#Page_221">p. 221</a>). Putting aside D’Oliva’s +circumstantial statement, with dates and figures (<a href="#Page_95">p. 95</a>), Villette +admitted having taken her three hundred livres on behalf of the +countess, and Father Loth proved having taken another four hundred +livres to her for her upholsterer.</p> + +<p>8. That she never received either the fifty thousand or the +hundred thousand livres which the Baron de Planta conveyed to +her from the cardinal (<a href="#Page_221">p. 221</a>). The Baron de Planta swore that he +handed her both these amounts (<a href="#Page_236">p. 236</a>). If she did not receive +them, how else did she support her extravagant expenditure at this +period of her career? Her stories about the liberal gifts she had +received from distinguished persons were one by one proved to be +false.</p> + +<p>9. That the contract was never given to her to obtain the +queen’s approval and signature to it (<a href="#Page_222">p. 222</a>).</p> + +<p>10. That the said approval and signature were not written by +any person she knew (<a href="#Page_222">p. 222</a>). Villette confessed to having written +them by her direction (<a href="#Page_244">p. 244</a>), and thereby admitted he had been +guilty of forgery, which he would hardly have done had it not +been the truth. Although Madame de la Motte adhered to her +denial of these facts at all her examinations, in her “Life” (vol. i. +p. 345) she admits that Villette forged both signature and +<i>approuvés</i> in her presence.</p> + +<p>11. That the story about the cardinal bringing the Necklace to +her house, and the casket containing it being handed over to a +person who came with a note professing to be from the queen, was +absolutely false from beginning to end (<a href="#Page_223">p. 223</a>). She subsequently +admits the truth of all this in her “Mémoires Justificatifs.” (See +p. 127.)</p> + +<p>12. That she received two boxes of diamonds from the cardinal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">[380]</span>in the presence of Cagliostro (<a href="#Page_226">p. 226</a>). Cagliostro denied this, and +Villette emphatically stated that Cagliostro was entirely innocent +of any complicity in the Necklace affair (<a href="#Page_245">p. 245</a>).</p> + +<p>13. That the Count de la Motte went to England to sell the +diamonds on behalf of the cardinal, and having done so, handed +the cardinal on his return drafts for one hundred and twenty-one +thousand livres and various articles of jewellery received in exchange +(<a href="#Page_226">pp. 226-7</a>). The countess in her “Life” says not a word +of this, but asserts (vol. i. p. 355 <i>et seq.</i>) that she received the +diamonds as a present from the queen, and showed them to the +cardinal, by whose advice she sent her husband abroad to sell them +on her own, certainly not on the cardinal’s account.</p> + +<p>14. That she neither knew nor suspected that any of the +diamonds sold by her and her husband formed portions of the +Necklace (<a href="#Page_228">p. 228</a>). She had previously stated the diamonds sold +did belong to the Necklace.</p> + +<p>15. That she never gave thirty thousand livres to the cardinal +to be handed to the jewellers (<a href="#Page_228">p. 228</a>). For what purpose, then, did +she borrow thirty-five thousand livres from her notary on the very +day? It is true she states that she borrowed this amount to lend +to Madame de Crussol, but why did she not call Madame de Crussol +to prove the fact?</p> + +<p>16. That she had no such transactions with Regnier as those +deposed to by him (<a href="#Page_236">p. 236</a>). When Regnier produces his books in +support of his statement, she admits the whole of them, and attributes +her former denial to her bad memory.</p> + +<p>17. That Villette did not write any letters to the cardinal in the +name of the queen (<a href="#Page_245">p. 245</a>). Villette himself confessed to having +written a considerable number (<a href="#Page_244">p. 244</a>).</p> + +<p>18. That she had previously deposed to having seen a letter in +the hands of the cardinal, purporting to be from the queen, and +saying, “The jewel is superb” (<a href="#Page_259">p. 259</a>). She had never deposed to +anything of the kind.</p> + +<p>19. That Laporte deposed she had told him a hundred times +she would have nothing to do with the sale of the Necklace +(<a href="#Page_260">p. 260</a>). No such assertion as this is to be found in Laporte’s +deposition.</p> + +<p>Of recent writers on the subject of the Diamond Necklace whose +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">[381]</span>versions of the affair are considered damaging to the reputation of +the queen, M. Louis Blanc,⁠<a id="FNanchor_473" href="#Footnote_473" class="fnanchor">[473]</a> is the one to whom the most frequent +reference is made. But M. Louis Blanc, no matter in whatever +direction his sympathies may lie, is too honest a writer to wilfully +misrepresent the truth. He does not assert, therefore, that the +queen was a party to the fraud, although he insinuates that there +are certain grounds for believing she was mixed up with the transaction. +We propose, therefore, to examine the arguments which +he brings forward inculpatory of the queen, and to see how far +these are capable of being refuted.</p> + +<p>In the arguments which M. Louis Blanc advances to prove that +an intimacy subsisted between Madame de la Motte and the queen, +and that the latter carried on an intrigue with the Cardinal de +Rohan, and was a party to the purchase of the Necklace, although +he does not exactly maintain the genuineness of the letters said to +have passed between the queen and the cardinal, he insinuates as +much, and entirely ignores the fact of Villette’s confession that +these letters were written by him. The same may be said with +regard to Madame de la Motte’s presumed intimacy with Marie-Antoinette. +She boasted, observes M. Louis Blanc, of her relations +with the queen, which she would not have done had there been no +foundation for them, for fear of the imposture being discovered; +which is equivalent to saying that people will not tell lies for fear +they should be found out, a proposition which the amount of falsehood +current in the world proves to be untenable.</p> + +<p>M. Louis Blanc dwells upon the fact of Madame de la Motte +having desired the jewellers to be very cautious in their dealings +with the cardinal, but he says nothing of the excellent use she put +this to in her defence, and which proves she had an ulterior object +in acting as she did. In like manner she made all she could of +the circumstance of her having declined a commission on the sale +of the Necklace. But what did she want with a commission?—she +meant to have the Necklace itself. To receive a commission from +the jewellers for having cheated them out of their property was a +little too much for even the Countess de la Motte.</p> + +<p>The box containing the Necklace, says M. Louis Blanc, was +given to Lesclaux [Desclaux], the queen’s <i>valet de chambre</i>. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_382">[382]</span>supposition is, that he was known to the cardinal, who parted with +the box without taking any receipt for it.</p> + +<p>The cardinal declared that Villette was the person to whom the +box was given; and Villette was certainly there at the time, for +the countess’s <i>femme de chambre</i> proved having opened the door to +him, and admitting him to Madame de la Motte’s apartment. It +is true that a striking difference existed between the individual +described by the cardinal and Rétaux de Villette; but this proves +but little, for if the countess could trick out a Palais Royal +courtesan with sufficient art to palm her off upon the cardinal as +Marie-Antoinette, whom the cardinal did know, she would certainly +have been competent to transform the forger Villette into +the fair-complexioned, light-haired, slim <i>valet de chambre</i> Desclaux, +whom the cardinal did <i>not</i> know.</p> + +<p>M. Louis Blanc states Madame de la Motte informed the cardinal +that the queen would acknowledge the receipt of the Necklace +the next day by a secret sign, which was given, an important fact +admitted by the Abbé Georgel himself.</p> + +<p>We do not find that Madame de la Motte made any such statement. +She says the queen wrote a note on the following day acknowledging +the receipt of the Necklace.⁠<a id="FNanchor_474" href="#Footnote_474" class="fnanchor">[474]</a> As to the secret sign no +one besides the Abbé Georgel, whose narrative M. Louis Blanc admits +is full of grave errors, says a word about it, not even the cardinal.</p> + +<p>As the time approached for the payment for the Necklace, Madame +de la Motte, says M. Louis Blanc, manifests no anxiety.</p> + +<p>She manifests every anxiety. She borrows thirty-five thousand +livres from her notary on the security of her jewels, thirty thousand +of which she takes to the cardinal for him to hand to the +jewellers as interest on the purchase money, and thereby induce +them to wait. She neither dines, nor sups, nor sleeps at home on +that day, her anxiety is so great.</p> + +<p>The cardinal declared to M. Baudard de Saint-James, says M. +Louis Blanc, that he had seen in the queen’s hands the seven hundred +thousand livres destined for the first payment on account of +the Necklace. Böhmer, too, informs Madame Campan that the +cardinal had told him he had seen the queen take the money from +a portfolio in a Sèvres porcelain secretary.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">[383]</span></p> + +<p>Presuming the cardinal to have said what is stated, it proves +nothing against Marie-Antoinette. It was an exaggeration on his +part of something which Madame de la Motte had told him; in +plain language a lie, told by him to reassure the jewellers and +Baudard de Saint-James, who was one of their largest creditors.</p> + +<p>M. Louis Blanc tells us that the cardinal hides Madame de la +Motte, for fear she should let out the secret of the correspondence, +and presses her to fly beyond the Rhine.</p> + +<p>All this is denied by the cardinal, and his word is equally worthy +of credit with that of the Countess de la Motte, whose statement +M. Louis Blanc has adopted.</p> + +<p>M. Louis Blanc mentions as a point in the Countess’s favour, that +after the arrest of the cardinal she refuses to fly.</p> + +<p>It was three o’clock in the morning when, worn out by excitement +and fatigue, she had great need of rest, and when she did not +believe the danger so imminent as it proved to be, that she refused +to fly. What she would have done a few hours later, had she not +been arrested in the meanwhile, is another question.</p> + +<p>According to M. Louis Blanc the authorities refused to arrest +Count de la Motte.</p> + +<p>The police agents who arrested the countess had no instructions +to arrest her husband, whose complicity in the fraud was not then +suspected. The count, however, took good care not to allow them +a second opportunity, for in a very few hours he made for the coast +as fast as post horses could convey him. M. Louis Blanc complains +that Madame de la Motte’s explanations of the confessions +of D’Oliva and Villette, and of the deposition of Gray the jeweller, +are not allowed to figure in the report of the trial.</p> + +<p>M. Louis Blanc has fallen into a grave error here. The +countess’s explanations of these different matters figure at full +length in the verbatim reports of her two examinations, preserved +in the National Archives.⁠<a id="FNanchor_475" href="#Footnote_475" class="fnanchor">[475]</a> Gray’s declaration, too, published in +the cardinal’s “Pièces Justificatives,” was, we should imagine, filed +by the registrar of the Court.</p> + +<p>The silence of the queen on receiving the jeweller’s letter of +July 12th is regarded by M. Louis Blanc as evidence of her guilt.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_384">[384]</span></p> + +<p>Marie-Antoinette read this letter with no particular attention, +and burnt it, says Madame Campan, the moment afterwards in her +presence. There was a certain mystery in the language—the +Necklace itself not being even mentioned—which, though it +might have been clear enough to the queen had she been the +purchaser of the jewel, was otherwise full of ambiguity. Besides, +she had a firm conviction that Böhmer was somewhat touched in +his head—a conviction, by the way, very generally entertained by +persons about the court, and openly alluded to during the discussion +on the sentence in the Court of Parliament (<a href="#Page_268">p. 268</a>).</p> + +<p>The cardinal’s well-known diplomatic skill, says M. Louis Blanc, +made it impossible for him to have been deceived.</p> + +<p>Diplomatic skill counts for little against the arts and wiles of an +intriguing woman, and one with whom, it must be remembered, +her dupe was madly infatuated; for does not Beugnot tell us that, +whilst glancing over some of the hundreds of letters from the +Cardinal de Rohan to Madame de la Motte, he saw with pity “the +ravages which the delirium of love, aided by that of ambition, had +wrought on the mind of this unhappy man?”⁠<a id="FNanchor_476" href="#Footnote_476" class="fnanchor">[476]</a> This is the keynote +to much that may seem inexplicable in the cardinal’s conduct +in the latter stages of the Necklace affair.</p> + +<p>According to M. Louis Blanc Madame de la Motte endeavours to +screen the queen.</p> + +<p>Whatever she may have done at her preliminary examination, +she did not screen the queen before the Court of Parliament, but +pretended she had seen in the cardinal’s possession two hundred +letters written to him by Marie-Antoinette. All the countess’s +aim was to screen herself, no matter whom she sacrificed to attain +this object.</p> + +<p>M. Louis Blanc says that the Count de la Motte proclaims his +intention of speaking the truth, but M. de Vergennes will not +consent to his being brought to Paris.</p> + +<p>When the trial was over, the count made a great parade of the +evidence he could have given. He was too good a judge, however, +to come forward at the trial. M. de Vergennes, moreover, +could hardly have refused his consent to the count’s coming to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_385">[385]</span>Paris out of consideration for the queen, as he had long been her +secret enemy, and was an admitted partisan of the cardinal’s.</p> + +<p>It is asserted by M. Louis Blanc that the Princess de Lamballe visits +the Salpêtrière, and gives alms to the superior for the countess.</p> + +<p>M. Louis Blanc does not state whence he derived this information, +which we find repeated by another writer on the dubious +authority of an anonymous journal written prior to March, 1801.⁠<a id="FNanchor_477" href="#Footnote_477" class="fnanchor">[477]</a> +The countess herself, however, makes no allusion to this circumstance +either in her “Mémoires Justificatifs” or in her “Life.”</p> + +<p>Finally, M. Louis Blanc asserts that the Count de la Motte is +paid two hundred thousand livres to suppress the publication of +the countess’s “Mémoires Justificatifs.”</p> + +<p>No authority is given for this statement, and we doubt if any +such large amount, or indeed anything approaching to it, was ever +paid. Still, whatever may have been the sum paid for the suppression +of these “Mémoires,” even if the queen were a party to +the transaction, it proves really nothing against her. Our own +criminal records abound in instances of victims submitting to extortion +for a long series of years, to save themselves from threatened +exposure—to escape being accused of some degrading crime of +which they are known to have been perfectly innocent.</p> + +<p>It is no part of our plan to enter upon a defence of Marie-Antoinette +against those other accusations which the bitter hatred +of individuals and the fierce passions of the time laid to her charge. +One of her ablest defenders has said, that “all of youth, all of the +woman, all of humanity in the unfortunate Queen of France, is explained +by these words of the Prince de Ligne: ‘The queen’s pretended +gallantry was nothing more than a sentiment of profound +friendship for a few individuals and a queen’s womanly coquetry, +that aimed at pleasing every one.’” Time, which rights all things, +is at last doing Marie-Antoinette justice, and “she whom patriotism +accused, and demagogism condemned, humanity has well nigh +absolved.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_386">[386]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_387">[387]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="APPENDIX">APPENDIX.</h2> + +<h3>DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE DIAMOND NECKLACE, +WITH ITS “ESCLAVAGE” AND TASSELS;</h3> + +<p class="center">Based on the description given in the “Pièces Justificatives pour +le Cardinal de Rohan,” corrected by careful comparison with a +<i>facsimile</i> of the drawing of the Necklace prepared by the +crown jewellers.</p> + +</div> + +<p>1. The <i>fil autour</i> (the row of diamonds encircling the neck), composed +of seventeen brilliants, weighing from 18 to 33 grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Count de la Motte says thirteen of these stones were bought by +Gray (<a href="#Page_146">see <i>ante</i>, p. 146</a>), but the latter states that he only purchased +eight. Two were set by Regnier as rings (<a href="#Page_140">see <i>ante</i>, p. 140</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>2. Forty-one brilliants, forming the three festoons suspended +from the <i>fil autour</i> above, weighing from 12 to 20 grains each, +estimating one with another.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Twenty-two of these were set by Gray, as a necklace for the +countess (<a href="#Page_147">see <i>ante</i>, p. 147</a>); two were exchanged with Furet; one +was set as a ring for the count; the remainder were sold to Paris +(<a href="#Page_148">see <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>3. Two pendant brilliants hanging within the side festoons, each +weighing 50 grains.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>The count says these were bought by Gray. Together with the +other pendant brilliants, they formed part of the eighteen oval stones +(<a href="#Page_144">see <i>ante</i>, p. 144</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>4. Two pendant brilliants hanging between the large and smaller +festoons.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>The count says these were also bought by Gray (<a href="#Page_144">see <i>ante</i>, p. 144</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>5. Six small stones supporting the above.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>These were among the diamonds delivered by the count to Regnier +(<a href="#Page_148">see <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_388">[388]</span></p> + +<p>6. A pendant brilliant, suspended from the <i>fil autour</i> above by a +trefoil, and weighing 34 grains. A stone of superb quality.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>The count says this was bought by Gray (<a href="#Page_144">see <i>ante</i>, p. 144</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>7. Fourteen brilliants surrounding the above, weighing 7⅝ carats.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Delivered by the count to Regnier (<a href="#Page_148">see <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>8. Three brilliants, forming the trefoil, each weighing 13 grains.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>These with the stones of the second trefoil, must have been the six +diamonds which the count speaks of as forming the rose of two oval +ones, and which he says he exchanged with Gray (<a href="#Page_146">see <i>ante</i>, p. 146</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>9. A pendant brilliant, at the lower part of the centre festoon, +hanging from a trefoil, and weighing 45 grains.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Bought by Gray (<a href="#Page_144">see <i>ante</i>, p. 144</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>10. Fourteen brilliants, surrounding the above, weighing 10 +carats.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Delivered by the count to Regnier (<a href="#Page_148">see <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>11. Three brilliants, forming the trefoil, weighing from 17 to 20 +grains. Stones of extreme beauty.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Exchanged by the count with Gray (<a href="#Page_146">see <i>ante</i>, p. 146</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>12. One hundred and twenty-eight fine brilliants, forming the +<i>esclavage</i> from the <i>fil</i> above to the knots of the two centre tassels; +the stones all matching, and weighing 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12 grains +each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Gray bought eighty of these.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>13. Sixty-two small brilliants, inserted in the <i>esclavage</i>, weighing +3 and 4 grains each.</p> + +<p>14. A brilliant, forming the centre of the rose in the middle of +the <i>esclavage</i>. A very handsome stone, without the slightest flaw, +weighing 45 grains.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>This was the button stone valued at one thousand guineas, which +Gray set for the count as a ring (<a href="#Page_147">see <i>ante</i>, p. 147</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>15. Eight brilliants surrounding the above, weighing 12 and 13 +grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Retained by the count.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_389">[389]</span></p> + +<p>16. Ninety-six brilliants, forming the two side bands: the stones +assorted, and weighing 6, 7, 8, and 9 grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Half, or thereabouts, of these stones, were bought by Gray; twelve +were delivered by the count to Regnier (<a href="#Page_148">see <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>17. Forty-six small brilliants, inserted in the said bands, weighing +2 and 3 grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>These must have been the stones intrusted to Villette to dispose of.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>18. Eight brilliants, at the heads of the tassels. Superb stones +matching with each other, and weighing 14 and 15 grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Four of these were bought by Gray.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>19. Twelve pendant brilliants, hanging at the bottom of the +tassels, remarkable for their whiteness, and weighing from 16 to +26 grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Bought by Gray. They formed part of the eighteen oval stones +(<a href="#Page_144">see <i>ante</i>, p. 144</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>20. Twenty-four very small stones at the sides of the above.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Delivered by the count to Regnier (<a href="#Page_148">see <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>21. Sixteen round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from +11 to 14 grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Delivered by the count to Regnier (<a href="#Page_148">see <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>22. Twelve round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from +8 to 10 grains each.</p> + +<p>23. Thirty round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from +6 to 8 grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Gray states that he bought the whole of these. The count says he +only parted with sixteen (<a href="#Page_147">see <i>ante</i>, p. 147</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>24. Thirty round-shaped brilliants in the tassels, weighing from +4 to 6 grains each.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Twenty-eight of these were given to Gray, to mount as drop earrings +(<a href="#Page_147">see <i>ante</i>, p. 147</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>25. Fifty-two small round-shaped brilliants in the tassels.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>Twenty-two of the largest of these were sold to Paris; others the +count had mounted for a watch-chain (<a href="#Page_148">see <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>).</p> + +</blockquote> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_390">[390]</span></p> + +<h3 id="LETTERS">A SELECTION FROM THE LETTERS +WHICH THE COUNTESS DE LA MOTTE PRETENDED HAD +PASSED BETWEEN THE QUEEN AND THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN.</h3> + +</div> + +<h4>FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL.</h4> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="right"><i>April 28, 1784.</i></p> + +<p>“I read with indignation the manner in which you have been +deceived by your niece. I never had any knowledge of the letters +you mention to me, and I question whether they ever existed. +The persons you complain of have in reality contributed to your +disgrace, but the methods they used to effect it were very different +from those you suppose. I have forgotten all, and require of you +never to speak to me of anything that has reference to what is +past. The account which the countess has given me of your behaviour +towards her has made a stronger impression on me than all +you have written to me. I hope you will never forget that it is to +her you are indebted for your pardon, as also for the letter I write +to you.</p> + +<p>“I have always looked upon you as a very inconsistent and indiscreet +man, which opinion necessarily obliges me to great reservedness; +and I own to you, that nothing but a conduct quite +the reverse of that you have held can regain my confidence and +merit my esteem.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<h4>FROM THE CARDINAL TO THE QUEEN.</h4> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="right"><i>May 6, 1784.</i></p> + +<p>“Yes; I am the happiest mortal breathing! My <i>master</i> pardons +me: he grants me his confidence; and, to complete my happiness, +he has the goodness to smile upon his <i>slave</i>, and to give him public +signals of a right understanding. Such unexpected favours caused +in me so great an emotion, that I for a moment was apprehensive +lest the motive should be suspected by the extraordinary answers +which I made. But I soon recovered when I saw my absence of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_391">[391]</span>mind was attributed to quite another motive; upon which, I assumed +an air of approbation, in order to divert observation from +the real object. This circumstance is a warning to me, to direct +henceforth my words and actions in a more prudential manner.</p> + +<p>“I know how to appreciate all the obligations I am under to the +charming countess. In whatever situation I may chance to be, I +shall be gratefully mindful of all that she has done in my behalf. +So much for that. All depends on my <i>master</i>. The facility he has +of making beings happy, makes his <i>slave</i> wish for the means of +following his footsteps and being the echo of his good pleasure.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<h4>FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL.</h4> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="right"><i>May 15, 1784.</i></p> + +<p>“I cannot disapprove of the desire you have of seeing me. I +could wish, in order to facilitate you the means, to remove all +obstacles that oppose it; but you would not have me act imprudently, +to bring about more compendiously a thing which you must +be persuaded you will shortly obtain.</p> + +<p>“You have enemies who have done you much disservice with the +<i>minister</i>⁠<a id="FNanchor_478" href="#Footnote_478" class="fnanchor">[478]</a> (the countess will tell you the meaning of that word, +which you must use for the future). The turning of them out +cannot but be advantageous to you. I know the changes and +revolutions that are to happen, and have calculated all the circumstances +which will infallibly bring forward the opportunities which +I desire. In the interim be very cautious, above all, discreet; and, +as there is no foreseeing what may happen, be reserved, and greatly +perplexed in what you hereafter write to me.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<h4>FROM THE CARDINAL TO THE QUEEN.</h4> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="right"><i>July 29, 1784.</i></p> + +<p>“My adorable <i>master</i>, permit your <i>slave</i> to express his joy for +the favours you have conferred upon him. That charming <i>rose</i> lies +upon my heart. I will preserve it to my latest breath. It will +incessantly recall to me the first instant of my happiness.</p> + +<p>“In parting from the countess, I was so transported, that I +found myself imperceptibly brought to the charming spot which +you had made choice of. After having crossed the shrubbery, I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_392">[392]</span>almost despaired of knowing again the place where your beloved +<i>slave</i> threw himself at your feet. Destined, no doubt, to experience +during that delightful night none but happy sensations, I +found again the pleasing turf, gently pressed by those pretty little +feet. I rushed upon it as if you had still been there, and kissed +with as much ardour your grassy seat, as that fair hand which was +yielded to me with a grace and kindness that belong to none but +my dear <i>master</i>. Enchanted, as it were, to that bewitching spot, +I found the greatest difficulty in quitting it; and I should certainly +have spent the night there, had I not been apprehensive of making +my attendants uneasy, who knew of my being out.</p> + +<p>“Soon after my return home, I went to bed, but pressed for a +considerable time a restless pillow. My imagination, struck with +your adorable person, was filled during my slumbers with the most +delightful sensations. Happy night! that proved the brightest +day in my life! Adorable <i>master</i>, your <i>slave</i> cannot find expressions +to describe his felicity! You yesterday witnessed his embarrassment, +his bashfulness, his silence, the natural effects of the most +genuine love! You alone in the universe could produce what he +never before experienced. Enveloped in these pleasing sensations, +I sometimes imagine it to be only a visionary felicity, and that I +am still under the influence of a dream; but, combining all the +circumstances of my happiness, recalling to mind the enchanting +sound of that voice which pronounced my pardon, I give way to an +excess of joy, accompanied with exclamations, which, if they were +overheard, would argue distraction. Such is my condition, which +I deem supremely happy, and wish for its continuance the remainder +of my life.</p> + +<p>“I shall not depart till I have heard from you.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<h4>FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL.</h4> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="right"><i>August 16, 1784.</i></p> + +<p>“An observation made to me yesterday, with an air of curiosity +and suspicion, will prevent my going to-day to T—— (Trianon), +but will not, for all that, deprive me of seeing my amiable <i>slave</i>. +The <i>minister</i> sets out at eleven, to go a-hunting at R—— +(Rambouillet): his return will be very late, or, to speak more +properly, next morning. I hope, during his absence, to make +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_393">[393]</span>myself amends for the tediousness and contradiction I have experienced +for these two days past. Imprudent conduct has +brought me to that pass, that I cannot, without danger, remove +objects that are displeasing to me, and who haunt me. They have +so thoroughly studied me, and know so little how to feign and +dissemble, that they attribute my change to nothing but a discretion, +which to them appears blameworthy; it is therefore very +essential to be on one’s guard, to avoid all surprise.</p> + +<p>“The daring question put to me, persuades me that my confidence +has been abused, as well as my good-nature, and that advantage +has been taken of circumstances to fetter my will. I +have a way of coming at information concerning it, but I will first +consult thee. As thou wilt play the principal part in the scheme +I have devised, we must needs agree as well on this point as we +did last Friday on the S——. This comparison will make thee +laugh, no doubt; but, as it is a just one, and I desire to give thee +a proof of it to-night, before we talk of serious matters, observe +exactly what follows: Do thou assume the garb of a messenger, +and, with a parcel in thy hand, be walking about at half-past +eleven under the porch of the chapel: I will send the countess, +who shall serve thee for a guide, and conduct thee up a little +back staircase to an apartment, where thou wilt find the object of +thy desires.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<h4>FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL.</h4> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="right"><i>January 15, 1785.</i></p> + +<p>“If it had not been my intention there should be a mystery in +the purchase of the jewel, I certainly should not have employed +you to procure it for me. I am not accustomed to enter thus +into treaty with my jewellers, and this way of proceeding is so +much the more contrary to what I owe to myself, as two words +were sufficient to put me in possession of that object. I am surprised +that you dare to propose to me such an arrangement; but +let there be no more said about it. It is a trifle that has occasioned +me to make a few reflections, which I will impart to you +when opportunity offers. The countess will deliver to you your +paper. I am sorry you have given yourself so much trouble to no +purpose.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_394">[394]</span></p> + +<h4>FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL.</h4> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="right"><i>January 29, 1785.</i></p> + +<p>“How is this? Affectation with me? Why, my friend, ought +people in our predicament to act under restraint, to seek for +shifts, and deal with insincerity? Dost thou know that thy reserve, +and thy false pride, drew upon thee the letter thou hast received; +and that but for the countess, who has told me all, I should have +attributed that pretended arrangement to quite a different motive. +Fortunately, all is cleared up. The countess will deliver thee the +writing, and explain the motives by which I have been actuated +in this matter. As I am supposed ignorant of the confidence +thou hast shewn her, as also of the token of trust that thou wilt +give her, by laying before her our particular engagements, that is +a more than sufficient reason to make thee secure, and remove all +difficulties. Thou wilt keep the writing, and deliver it to none +but me.</p> + +<p>“I hope, notwithstanding my disorder, to see thee before the +holiday. I expect the countess to-morrow. I will tell her +whether I shall be able to receive from my <i>slave</i> the object which +had nearly set us at variance.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<h4>FROM THE QUEEN TO THE CARDINAL.</h4> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="right"><i>July 19, 1785.</i></p> + +<p>“I believe I have informed you of the disposal of the sum which +I destined for the object in question, and that probably I should +not fulfil the engagements till my return from Fontainebleau. +The countess will remit to you thirty thousand livres, to pay +the interest. The privation of the capital is to be taken into consideration, +and this compensation will make them easy.</p> + +<p>“You complain, and I say not a word: a very extraordinary +circumstance; time will, perhaps, acquaint you with the motive +of my silence. I do not love suspicious people, especially when +there is so little reason for it. I possess a principle I never will +recede from. Your last conversation is very opposite to what you +related to me at a preceding period. Reflect upon it, and if your +memory serves you faithfully, by comparing the eras, you will +judge what I am to think of your pressing solicitations.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_395">[395]</span></p> + +<h3 id="PROCES-VERBAL">AN +EPITOME OF THE “FIRST PROCÈS-VERBAL DESCRIPTIVE OF THE DOCUMENTS TENDING TO +ESTABLISH CRIMINALITY. SEP. 9, 10, 11, 1785.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_479" href="#Footnote_479" class="fnanchor">[479]</a></h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>Preserved in the National Archives—Section, Procès +du Collier, Series X², No. 18,576.</i>)</p> + +</div> + +<p>The <i>procès verbal</i> in question is drawn up in the quaint legal +phraseology of the <i>ancien régime</i>, and abounds not only in the +tautological repetition and iteration in which lawyers have ever delighted, +but in queer sounding scraps of the obsolete jargon of +eighteenth century procedure.</p> + +<p>It commences by setting forth that in the year 1785 on Friday +the 9th September at three in the afternoon, Jean Baptiste +Maximilien Pierre Titon, king’s councillor in his High Court of +Parliament, commissioner in the present case, assisted by Maître +Etienne Fremyn, barrister of the court, and one of the chief clerks +of the criminal registry of the said court, was applied to by +Maître Pierre de Laurencel, one of the deputies of the king’s +procureur-général. The latter stated, with the customary prolixity +of gentlemen of the long robe, that by virtue of royal letters +patent, issued at St. Cloud on September 5th, empowering the +High Court to take cognizance of the facts therein set forth and +all matters appertaining thereto, and in accordance with a decree +pronounced by the said High Court on September 7th, empowering +the procureur-général to proceed “against the authors, abettors, +participators, accomplices and adherents as well of the transaction +itself as of the forgery of the queen’s handwriting and signature,” +it had been ordered that the documents tending to prove +criminality or to throw light on the case which should be produced +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_396">[396]</span>by the king’s procureur-général, should be deposited at the criminal +registry of the court, and should there remain, and that a <i>procès-verbal</i> +descriptive of the said documents should be drawn up in +presence of the deputies of the king’s procureur-général. Both +classes of documents had been duly deposited by the king’s procureur-général +at the criminal registry of the court on the 7th +September. Consequently he (Maître de Laurencel) now appeared +to assist in drawing up the descriptive <i>procès-verbal</i> of the documents +tending to prove criminality <i>only</i>.</p> + +<p>Titon, having duly certified this application, gives orders to +Maître Fremyn to at once produce the said documents tending to +prove criminality.</p> + +<p>Here follows a minute description of each of the bundle of +fifteen documents produced. The size of the paper, the number +of pages written on, the number of lines on each page, the words +with which each page begins and finishes, the style of the signatures, +the fact whether or not there were any interlineations, or +words struck out or underlined; all these particulars are minutely +recorded in every instance.</p> + +<p>The first document, entitled “Mémoire instructif,” written on +two sheets of paper <i>à la Tellière</i>, contains four full pages and three +lines and three words on the fifth page, all apparently written by +the same hand, and is signed “Bohmer, Bassenge, le Card. de +Rhoan,” (<i>sic</i>). It is noted that there is nothing scratched out or +written over, but that on the twenty-eighth line of the second page, +are added in parentheses and in a smaller hand the words “which +was the 1st February.”</p> + +<p>The second document is “a declaration made to the king by +Mgr. the Cardinal de Rohan” consisting of fifteen lines written +on one side of a large sheet of letter paper, beginning with the +words, “A woman whom I have believed” and terminating +“Md. la Mothe d. Vallois.” This must be the statement written +by the cardinal at the suggestion of the king immediately prior to +his arrest.</p> + +<p>The third is a receipt dated the 30th July 1785, for the sum of +30,000 livres, written on half a sheet of letter paper folded in two, +and signed Bôhmer & Company.</p> + +<p>The fourth is an envelope, consisting of a large sheet of letter +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_397">[397]</span>paper, outside of which is written “This paper, in case of my death, +belongs and must be handed to M. Bôhmer, jeweller to the Queen ... +this 18th February 1785.”</p> + +<p>The next document which is worthy of a more detailed notice +is described in the following minute terms in the <i>procès-verbal</i>.</p> + +<p>“The fifth document, inclosed in the said envelope and headed +‘<i>Propositions and conditions of price and payment</i>,’ is written half +way across the front and the back of the first leaf of a sheet of +letter paper. The first page on the front side containing eighteen +lines, the first of which consists of the word ‘<i>Proposals</i>’ and the +eighteenth of the words ‘<i>4th, one might facilitate</i>,’ remarking that +below the third line of the said first front page, is a flourish and +that at the margin of the said page, which is left blank, is written +three times the word ‘<i>approved</i>’ in a very fine handwriting, +differing from that filling the page; namely, the first time in front +of the sixth line, the second time in front of the eleventh line, and +the third and last time in front of the sixteenth line. The second +page on the back containing twelve lines, the first of which consists +of these words ‘<i>calm in the matter</i>,’ and the twelfth line of +these ‘<i>later on</i>,’ remarking likewise that on the marginal half of +the said back page is written twice in a very fine handwriting the +word ‘<i>approved</i>,’ the first time in front of the third line, and the +second in front of the tenth: remarking likewise that at the side +of the said writing, written in three lines on half the right hand +margin, are these words, ‘<i>Accepted the above arrangements, the +29th January 1785</i>,’ and below the signature, ‘Böhmer & Company,’ +and still lower down a flourish: remarking besides that on the half +margin to the left in front of the word ‘<i>accepted</i>’ are written these +words, ‘<i>Approved, Marie-Antoinette de France</i>,’ in a very fine handwriting, +apparently similar to the other words ‘<i>approved</i>’ contained +in the said document, and below a dash of the pen, and still lower +down a flourish; that besides there is no erasure, interlineation, or +word written above another in the said document.”</p> + +<p>The sixth is a short letter of three lines and two words, apparently +from the cardinal to Böhmer, as it commences, “I should +like, M. Bohmer,” and bears a memorandum in another hand, +beginning, “Received this letter from monseigneur.” It is addressed +to “Monsieur, Monsieur Bemer (<i>sic</i>), jeweller to the Queen, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_398">[398]</span>Rue de Vendosme, near the Tennis Court at Paris,” and is countersigned +“Card. de Rohan,” and to it is attached a seal unbroken, +and apparently bearing the arms of a cardinal.</p> + +<p>The seventh is a letter of ten lines dated Paris the 1st February, +1785, commencing, “Monsieur Bôhmer, her Majesty,” and signed +by the cardinal.</p> + +<p>The eighth is a more lengthy document, filling three and a half +pages of paper <i>à la Tellière</i>. It is a memorandum dated Paris, +August 17th, 1785, signed Ste. James (who thus spells his +name), and appears to explain his financial transactions with +Böhmer. It is carefully noted with regard to this document that +although there are neither erasures, interlineations, nor words +written over others, that certain specified portions are underlined.</p> + +<p>The ninth, enclosed in the former, is a copy of Böhmer’s acknowledgment +of his debt to Saint James, and is dated the 16th +March, 1785.</p> + +<p>It being now nine in the evening, the completion of the <i>procès-verbal</i> +was adjourned to the following day, when, with the same +formality and a due amount of signing and countersigning Maître +de Laurencel renewed his application, and Councillor Commissioner +Titon ordered that Maître Fremyn should comply with it. Whereupon +the last named at once produced</p> + +<p>The tenth document, filling four full pages of paper <i>à la Tellière</i>, +containing a statement of the cardinal’s examination in the Bastille, +dated the 18th August, and conjointly signed “Le Card. de Rohan, +Thiroux de Crosne, Delauney and Delachapelle.” The <i>procès-verbal</i>, +which gives as usual the words at the beginning and end of every +page and the number of lines, notes that the two first words of the +sixth line of the first page and sixth word of the seventh line of +the third page are struck out, and that the sixth word of the +thirteenth line of the fourth page is underlined.</p> + +<p>The eleventh “is a document on a sheet of large letter paper +containing three pages, the first of which of twenty-three lines +begins with these words ‘<i>Confidential Declaration of Monseigneur +the Cardinal de Rohan</i>,’ and finishes at the twenty-third line by +these, ‘<i>in the month of July 1784, I.</i>’ The second page is of +twenty-five lines, the first beginning with these words, ‘<i>met in +effect at the hour appointed</i>,’ and the twenty-fifth ending with these, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_399">[399]</span>‘<i>that they have even wished</i>.’ We have remarked that the seventh +word which seems to be the word ‘<i>woman</i>,’ is struck out, and there +has been substituted for it above, the word ‘<i>person</i>.’ We have +also remarked in the fourth line, between the word ‘<i>this</i>’ and the +word ‘<i>person</i>,’ is written by way of insertion and above, the word +‘<i>same</i>.’ We have further remarked that between the eighteenth and +the nineteenth line are written as an interlineation the words, ‘<i>my +absurd</i>,’ and that in the nineteenth line the fifth word is struck +out. The third and last page is of twenty-one lines, the first +beginning with these words ‘<i>to refuse and that I have forced them +to accept</i>,’ and the twenty-first line ending with these, the ‘<i>Sieurs +Bôhmer</i>.’ We have remarked that in the tenth line, the ninth +word is written over, that in the eleventh (line) the third and +fourth words are likewise written over, that the last word of the +sixteenth line is also written over, that in the seventeenth line +the first and the third words are also written over. We have +further remarked that under the twenty-first line of the said third +page are three lines, and the date of the year 1785, forming the +fourth line, in a different handwriting from that comprising the +above written document, the first of which lines begins by these +words, ‘<i>I approve the writing</i>,’ and the third line ends with these, +‘<i>done at the Bastille this 20th August</i>,’ and below the signature ‘Le +Card. de Rohan,’ with flourish.”</p> + +<p>The twelfth consists of fourteen lines written on the first page of +a sheet of paper <i>à la Tellière</i> beginning “I the undersigned confess,” +and ending “of diamonds,” beneath which is the signature, +“Louis Jean Marie Desclaux.” This is the Lesclos or Desclos, +belonging to the queen’s household, to whom Madame de la Motte +pretended she handed the casket containing the Necklace.</p> + +<p>The thirteenth, filling two and a half pages of paper <i>à la Tellière</i> +and commencing, “To-day the seventeenth August,” appears from +words referring to drawers and articles of furniture, quoted as +commencing and ending the second page, as those of “<i>procès-verbal</i>,” +with which it concludes to have been a <i>procès-verbal</i> of the +search made at the Palais-Cardinal, for the grand almoner’s papers. +It bears the signature of the Cardinal de Rohan, the Marshal de +Castries, the Count de Vergennes, the Baron de Breteuil, and the +lieutenant of police, Thiroux de Crosne.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_400">[400]</span></p> + +<p>The fourteenth, closed and fastened to the preceding with a +blue ribbon, fills two pages of a small sheet of letter paper, and +commences, “Send for B. this morning,” but the few words quoted +afford no clue as to what it refers to. It is merely signed with a +flourish, and headed on the first page “No. 1.”</p> + +<p>The fifteenth, also closed and fastened to the two preceding +ones with blue ribbons, is likewise written on a small sheet of +letter paper. It is headed “No. 2,” and the words quoted—“The +last price shall be fixed,” “in six months,” “shall be carried to,” +and “in the afternoon,”—seem to indicate some note referring to +the purchase and delivery of the Necklace, found in all probability +amongst the cardinal’s papers.</p> + +<p>These documents being thus described were numbered in succession, +initialled and deposited in the criminal registry at nine in +the evening, the <i>procès-verbal</i> being again signed by Titon, De +Laurencel and Fremyn.</p> + +<p>On the following day, the 11th, the commissioners again met to +examine three documents which Titon had previously weeded out +from a bundle of papers already classed as merely tending to +throw light on the case, in order that they might be added to those +tending to prove criminality.</p> + +<p>“The first,” written on two sheets of paper <i>à la Tellière</i>, which +we have fastened together with red thread, contains six pages and +six lines. It commences with the words, “Observations to the +Court by M. de la Csse de Valois,” and the sentences preserved are +“to go into Champagne,” “the Prince raised alarms,” “to calm his +agents,” “like madmen and that he would take us as far as the gate +of Meaux,” “they do not serve to make the king believe all that +I wish,” “and have begged the Prince to tell him,” “I have never +shown any one,” “my pension,” “and perhaps my unhappy husband +despairing at having wedded,” “if I have wrongs, his Majesty.” +Every word altered, struck out or inserted, is noted by the commissioners, +and attention is called to the fact, “that in the date +of the year, 1776, the second 7 seems to have been written over +the figure 6,” and that at the bottom of the seventh page are +written the following words, “Jeanne Marie De Valois de St. Remy, +ensuite de Caze Csse de la Motte, de la pénicière,” and lower down, +“at the Bastille, Saturday, 29th August, 1785.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_401">[401]</span></p> + +<p>The second, written on a sheet of paper <i>à la Tellière</i>, and containing +a page and a half, is the letter which we have quoted on +page 187 <i>et seq.</i></p> + +<p>The third and last “is a note which seems to us to have been +written by the hand of the said De la Motte, at the back of the +list of linen given by her to her washerwoman, the twenty-fifth +August, which note has been initialled and signed by the said De +la Motte, and by the Commissioner Chénon, and runs as follows, +‘M. Filliau of Bar sur Aube, being at my house four months ago, +sold for me to a large jeweller, his cousin, to the amount of 30 +thousand livres, which I also handed to Monseigneur. There +were 22 small ones at 500 livres a-piece, ... then 52 at 400 livres +a-piece, which I begged M. Filliau to sell for me, unknown to my +husband.’ To which last document we have pasted a piece of white +paper to inscribe the number of the said document, and to append +our signature and that of the said Maître de Laurencel, as well as +those that may have to be appended in course of the instruction.”</p> + +<p>The <i>procès-verbal</i> is then formally wound up and signed by Titon, +De Laurencel, and Fremyn.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_402">[402]</span></p> + +<h3 id="SATIRICAL_VERSES">SOME SATIRICAL VERSES,<br> +<span class="smaller allsmcap">TO WHICH THE NECKLACE AFFAIR GAVE RISE.</span></h3> + +<p class="center">(From “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., +Marie-Antoinette, la Cour et la Ville.”)</p> + +</div> + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Voici venir le temps pascal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Que pensez-vous du cardinal?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Opinez-vous qu’il chantera</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Le Saint-Père l’avait rougi,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">La cour de France l’a noirci,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Le Parlement le blanchira:</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Que Cagliostro ne soit rien,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Qu’il soit Maltais, Juif ou Chrétien,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A l’affaire que fait cela?</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">De Versailles comme à Paris,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tous les grands et tous les petits</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Veulent élargir Oliva:</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Planta, du fond de sa prison,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Demande grâce au bon Baron,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Qui lui dit qu’il y restera:</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_403">[403]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">De Valois le conte insensé,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Par un Collier fut commencé,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Un Collier le finira:</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Survient Villette l’écrivain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Confus d’avoir prêté sa main</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Comme La Motte l’exigea:</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Pour d’Étienville au teint vermeil,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A la Grève un coup de soleil</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sur l’épaule le frappera:</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Voilà l’histoire du procès</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Qui de Paris cause l’accès;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nous dirons, quand il finira:</div> + <div class="verse indent20">Alleluia!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Illustre prisonnier, tirez-nous d’embarras:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Êtes-vous cardinal, ou ne l’êtes-vous pas?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hélas! serait-ce vrai, que la cruelle Rome</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ait pu dans sa fureur dégrader un saint homme?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Un Rohan! Répondez. Vous détournez les yeux;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! vous pleurez le sort de vos tristes cheveux.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vous voilà donc réduit à la simple calotte!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ce n’est pas le seul mal que vous ait fait La Motte.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Target, dans un gros mémoire,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A traité tant bien que mal</div> + <div class="verse indent0">La sotte et fâcheuse histoire</div> + <div class="verse indent2">De ce pauvre cardinal,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_404">[404]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Où sa verbeuse éloquence</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Et son froid raisonnement</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prouvent jusqu’à l’indécence</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Que c’est un grand innocent.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">J’entends le sénat de France</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Lui dire un de ces matins:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ayez un peu de décence,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Et laissez là vos catins.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mais le Pape, moins honnête;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Pourra dire à ce nigaud:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prince, à qui n’a pas de tête,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Il ne faut pas de chapeau.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Cagliostro, homme savant,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Enseigne au Prince la magie.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ils n’étaient que deux seulement,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Mais par tour de sorcellerie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Les voilà trois: Qui l’eût prédit?</div> + <div class="verse indent2">De surprise ôtant sa calotte,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Le bon cardinal vit La Motte,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Et La Motte le vit.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Malgré ce gros factum si souvent refondu,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Et l’arrêt de la cour si lestement rendu,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">L’innocente candeur du prélat de Saverne</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brille comme un étr... au fond d’une lanterne.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Des Valois La Motte est la fille,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">On n’en peut douter:</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Car un arrêt va lui faire porter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Les armes de sa famille.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_405">[405]</span></p> + +<h3 id="MEMORIAL">MEMORIAL<br> +<span class="smaller">CONCERNING THE HOUSE OF SAINT-REMI DE VALOIS, SPRUNG FROM THE +NATURAL SON WHOM HENRI II., KING OF FRANCE, HAD BY NICOLE +DE SAVIGNY, LADY AND BARONESS DE SAINT-REMI.</span></h3> + +</div> + +<h4>ARMS OF THE HOUSE DE SAINT-REMI DE VALOIS.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Argent, a fess azure charged with three fleurs-de-luce or.</i></p> + +<p class="mt2">Henri the Second, King of France, had by Nicole de Savigny,⁠<a id="FNanchor_480" href="#Footnote_480" class="fnanchor">[480]</a> +Henri de Saint-Remi, who follows. The said Nicole de Savigny, +styled High and Puissant Lady, Lady of Saint-Remi, Fontette, du +Chatellier and Noez, married Jean de Ville, Knight of the King’s +Order, and made her last will on the 12th of January, 1590, in +which she declared, “That the late King Henri the Second had +made a donation to Henri Monsieur, his son, the sum of 30,000 +crowns sol. which she had received in 1558.”</p> + +<p class="mt2"><span class="smcap">II. Degree.</span> <i>Fourth Progenitor.</i>] Henri de Saint-Remi, called +Henri Monsieur, is styled High and Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord +of the Manors and Baron du Chatellier, Fontette, Noez and +Beauvoir, Knight of the King’s Order, Gentleman of the Bedchamber +in Ordinary, Colonel of a regiment of horse, and of foot, +and Governor of Château-Villain; married by contract October 31, +1592, articled at Essoyes, in Champagne, Dame Christiana de Luz, +styled High and Puissant Lady, relict of Claude de Fresnay, Lord +of Loupy, Knight of the King’s Order, and daughter of the Hon. +Jacques de Luz, also Knight of the King’s Order, and of Lady +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_406">[406]</span>Michelle du Fay, Lord and Lady of Bazoilles; died at Paris on the +14th of February, 1621, and had of his marriage the son who +follows:</p> + +<p class="mt2"><span class="smcap">III. Degree.</span> <i>Third Progenitor.</i>] Renatus de Saint-Remi, styled +High and Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord and Baron de Fontette, +Gentleman in Ordinary to the King’s Bedchamber, Captain of a +hundred men-at-arms, died March 11, 1663, and had married, by +articles entered into April 25, 1646, at Essoyes, Jacquette Brevau, +by whom, amongst others, he had the following son:</p> + +<p class="mt2"><span class="smcap">IV. Degree.</span> <i>Great Grandfather.</i>] Pierre Jean de Saint-Remi de +Valois, styled High and Puissant Lord, Knight, Lord of Fontette, +Major of the regiment of Bachevilliers’ horse, was born September +9, 1649, and baptized at Fontette, October 12, 1653; married first +to Demoiselle Reine Marguerite de Courtois, and a second time by +articles passed on January 18, 1673, at St. Aubin, in the Bishopric +of Toul, to Demoiselle Marie de Mullot, daughter of Messire Paul +de Mullot, and of Dame Charlotte de Chaslus, died before the 14th +of March, 1714; and of his second marriage had a son, who follows:</p> + +<p class="mt2"><span class="smcap">V. Degree.</span> <i>Grandfather.</i>] Nicolas Renatus de Saint-Remi de +Valois, styled Knight, Baron de Saint-Remi, and Lord of Luz, was +baptized at Saint Aubin-aux-Auges, in the Bishopric of Toul, the +12th of April, 1678, served the King during ten years, as <i>garde-du-corps</i> +to his majesty, in the Duke de Charost’s company, quitted +the service to marry by articles of the 14th of March, 1714, +Demoiselle Marie Elisabeth de Vienne, daughter of Nicolas +François de Vienne, Knight, Lord and Baron de Fontette, Noez, +&c., counsellor to the King, president, Lieutenant-general in +matters both civil and criminal, in the royal Bailiwick of Bar-sur-Seine, +and of Dame Elisabeth de Merille, died at Fontette, on the +3rd of October, 1759; and of his marriage had two sons: first, +Pierre Nicolas Renatus de Saint-Remi de Fontette, born at Fontette, +June 3, 1716, received in 1744, a Gentleman cadet in the +regiment of Grassin, where it is assured he was killed in an engagement +against the king’s enemies; and second, Jacques, who +follows:</p> + +<p class="mt2"><span class="smcap">VI. Degree.</span> <i>Father.</i>] Jacques de Saint-Remi de Valois, first +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_407">[407]</span>called de Luz, and afterwards de Valois, styled Knight, Baron de +Saint-Remi, was born at Fontette, December 22, 1717, and +baptized January 1, 1718. In his baptismal attestation which +contains his name and condition, his father, thereat present, is +called and styled, “Messire Nicolas Renatus de Saint-Remi de +Valois, Baron de Saint-Remi;” and his aunt, who was one of the +sponsors, is therein called “Demoiselle Barbe Thérèse, daughter of +the late Messire Pierre Jean de Saint-Remi de Valois.” Both of +them signed their names to it, Saint-Remi de Valois. He +espoused, in the parish church of St. Martin, at Langres, on the +14th of August, 1755, Marie Jossel, by whom he already had a +son, who follows: and died at the Hôtel Dieu, in Paris, February +16, 1762, according to the register of his death, in which he is +called and styled, “Jacques de Valois, Knight, Baron de Saint-Remi.”</p> + +<p class="mt2"><span class="smcap">VII. Degree.</span> <i>Procreating.</i>] Jacques de Saint-Remi de Valois, +born February 25, 1755, and baptized the same day in the +parochial church of St. Peter and St. Paul, in the city of Langres; +acknowledged and baptized by his father and mother in the act of +their espousals of the 14th of August, of the same year.⁠<a id="FNanchor_481" href="#Footnote_481" class="fnanchor">[481]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Jeanne de Saint-Remi de Valois, born at Fontette, July 22, 1756.</p> + +<p>Marianne de Saint-Remi de Valois, born also at Fontette, October +2, 1757.</p> + +<p>We, Antoine Marie d’Hozier de Sérigny, Knight, Judge at Arms of +the Nobility of France, Knight Honorary Grand Cross of the Royal +Order of St. Maurice of Sardinia, do certify unto the King, the truth +of the facts certified in the above Memorial drawn up by us from +authentic records.</p> + +<p>In witness thereof we have signed the present certificate, and +caused it to be countersigned by our Secretary, who has put to it +the seal of our arms.</p> + +<p>Done at Paris, on Monday, the 6th day of the month of May, in +the year 1776:</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 13.5em;"><i>Signed</i> <span class="smcap">D’Hozier de Sérigny</span>:</span><br> +By Monsieur the Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France.<br> +<span style="margin-right: 19em;"><i>Signed</i> <span class="smcap">Duplesis</span>.</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_408">[408]</span></p> + +<p>We, the undersigned Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France, +&c., do certify that this copy of the present Memorial is conformable +to the record preserved in our repository of Nobility; in witness +whereof we have signed it, and caused it to be countersigned by +our secretary, who has affixed to it the seal of our arms.</p> + +<p>Done at Paris, on Thursday, the 13th day of the month of +October, in the year 1785,</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 13.5em;"><i>Signed</i> <span class="smcap">D’Hozier de Sérigny</span>:</span><br> +By Monsieur the Judge at Arms of the Nobility of France.<br> +<span style="margin-right: 19em;"><i>Signed</i> <span class="smcap">Duplesis</span>.</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_409">[409]</span></p> + +<h3 id="DECLARATION">ABSTRACT OF THE +DECLARATION MADE BY BETTE D’ÉTIENVILLE IN THE NECKLACE AFFAIR.</h3> + +</div> + +<p>When the examination of the parties accused of being concerned +in the Necklace fraud had terminated, an individual calling himself +Bette d’Étienville, detained for debt in the prison of the +Châtelet, wrote to the Procureur-Général to announce that he had +revelations to make in connection with the affair whereby a new +inquiry on the part of this official became necessary.</p> + +<p>Jean-Charles-Vincent de Bette d’Étienville, bourgeois of Saint-Omer, +living nobly and on his own resources, as he described himself +as doing, was an adventurer of the worst kind; his name was only +Bette, and it was from pure fancy that he had made the fantastic +addition of ‘d’Étienville;’ he was not a bourgeois of Saint-Omer, +but simply a surgical <i>student</i> of Lille; neither did he live nobly +and on his own resources, since his father was only a workman, a +stone-quarrier, in fact; and with regard to himself, he had +espoused at Lille, against the wish of his family, an old maid sixty +years of age, whose property he wasted in a very short space of +time, when he abandoned her, and repaired to Paris to solicit the +privilege <i>des almanachs chantants</i>. Such were the antecedents of +this individual, who made before the examining magistrates a +declaration of which the following is the substance; and which +gave an entirely new interest to the Necklace affair, producing, as +it did, almost a score of declarations in reply, and numerous +memorials drawn up with the view of confuting it. On a very +slight substratum of fact Bette d’Étienville managed to raise a pile +of falsehood which served to complicate for a time in the eyes of +the bewildered public the already sufficiently intricate affair of the +Necklace.</p> + +<p>About the 8th of February, 1785, Bette made the acquaintance, +at the café de Valois, of a Sieur Augeard, who called himself the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_410">[410]</span>steward of a Dame de Courville. This Augeard proposed to him +to mix himself up with a marriage; he spoke to him of a lady who +had formerly had a child by a very great lord, and who desired to +give a position to her offspring. The lady wished to marry a +gentleman of title. Bette refused at first to have anything to do +with the business, but the steward having promised him numerous +advantages, he eventually consented, and set forth in search of a +husband. He first addressed himself to the Count Xavier de +Vinesacq, captain of infantry, and chevalier of the order of Saint-Louis, +to whom he was in the habit of selling <i>eau de Cologne</i>; but +this individual, distrusting the morality of the intermediary, gave +an absolute refusal to the proposition made to him.</p> + +<p>On the Monday in Holy Week of the same year, a certain Baron +de Fages, belonging to the body-guard of the Count de Provence, +sought out Bette, and proposed himself for the marriage in +question; he added that he was a real gentleman, and that his +titles to that rank had been left by him with the Abbé Mulot, +Grand Prior of Saint-Victor. D’Étienville went to the abbé, received +from him the titles in question, and gave them to Augeard, +that he might show them to the lady of quality; she was satisfied +with them, and some days afterwards intimated that she accepted +the Baron de Fages for her future husband, and that the union +should take place after Quasimodo (the Sunday after Easter).</p> + +<p>When this epoch had arrived, Augeard told Bette that, owing +to various circumstances, the marriage must be delayed; but as +Bette did not appear to believe what he said, Augeard proposed to +take him to the lady, exacting from him, however, a promise of the +most profound secrecy. Three days before Quasimodo, Augeard +conducted him to a house, where he saw a lady about thirty-four +years old, of a fine figure, but inclined to embonpoint, and having +black eyes. This lady confirmed what Augeard had said, and +after having required secrecy from him, confided to him that the +child’s father was, after the princes of the blood, one of the greatest +lords in the kingdom, and that this affair would be the means of +making Bette’s fortune. The next day Bette went again to the +lady’s, accompanied by Augeard, and found there a person, whom +he did not know, who was sometimes called Marsilly, and sometimes +Councillor, and who had directed the affair throughout its +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_411">[411]</span>entire course. Marsilly made inquiries of him respecting the +Baron de Fages, his conduct, manners, &c., and then went out. +The lady now showed d’Étienville her jewels and unmounted diamonds, +which belonged, she told him, to a <i>rivière</i> of diamonds +which she used formerly to wear, and which had been valued at +432,000 livres (francs). She added that she wished to sell them +before her marriage, but had reasons for not disposing of them in +Paris, and proposed to him to go to Holland with some one she +would name, and to sell them there; from the proceeds of this +sale 100,000 livres were to be given as a bridal present to the +Baron de Fages. But Bette, fearful of arrest for being found in +possession of such valuable property, refused, and communicated +all these details to the Baron de Fages, on the part of Madame +Méla de Courville, as the lady styled herself. Bette, who felt disquieted +at the mystery which seemed to overhang these interviews, +took particular notice of the house and street to which Augeard +conducted him, and on going there alone, discovered that the +house was Madame de la Motte’s, and that the Cardinal de Rohan +was in the frequent habit of going there. Feeling at that time +persuaded that Madame de la Motte and the Dame de Courville +were one and the same person, and being unaware that Madame de +la Motte was married, he remained quiet; but events soon undeceived +him, since the public prints apprised him of Madame de +la Motte’s arrest at Bar-sur-Aube, on the very day that he was at +Arras with the Dame de Courville.</p> + +<p>The day of Quasimodo having passed, the marriage was fixed for +the 10th or 12th of April. At this period Augeard told Bette that +the Cardinal de Rohan wished to see him. Bette betook himself to +the Dame de Courville’s where he found Marsilly and the Cardinal; +the latter attired in a grey frock-coat, and a round hat with gold +tassels. The Cardinal expressed to him his satisfaction at the zeal +he had shown, and assured him that he would charge himself with +his future fortune. After having spoken to Marsilly and the Dame +de Courville in private, he came back to him and told him that, for +reasons of the highest importance, the marriage could only take +place from the 1st to the 15th of July. He charged Bette to inform +the Baron de Fages of this; whereupon a letter was written immediately, +according to Marsilly’s dictation. The Baron de Fages +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_412">[412]</span>accepted the delay, and it was agreed that, in order to compensate +him, in case the marriage should not take place, the Dame de Courville +should bind herself to pay him 30,000 livres, in three separate +sums: the first on the 15th of August; the second on the 15th of +October; and the third on the 15th of December. The bond was +given to Bette, sealed with the Dame de Courville’s seal; he, afraid +of losing it, gave it to the Abbé Mulot, who was perfectly willing +to take charge of it. It was at this period that the Dame de +Courville told him in confidence that she was a baroness, and of +high birth, and ex-canoness of a chapter in Germany, where she +first became acquainted with the Cardinal, who had seduced her; +that she had afterwards lived with him, and had a child by him; +that she had followed the Grand Almoner to Paris, Strasbourg, into +Germany, to Vienna, and elsewhere; and lastly, that she was the +Baroness de Sollebercg, or Salleberg. The Baroness spoke German, +Italian, and French well. In the month of May, 1785, she made +fresh proposals to Bette to go and sell her diamonds in Holland; +but on his refusing, she no longer insisted. Some time after she +told him she had sold a part of them, and had had the others +mounted; she also showed him a snuff-box, with her portrait surrounded +with brilliants, a watch and chain set with diamonds, a +ring, and a solitaire, begging him to speak of them to the Baron de +Fages, for whom they were intended. On the 1st of July, Bette +asked Madame de Courville if she thought the marriage would take +place on the 15th; she replied in the affirmative, and added that +the Cardinal would remain in Paris for the purpose. Nevertheless, +the 15th went by, and Madame de Courville, observing Bette’s inquietude, +promised to procure him a new interview with the Cardinal. +On the 18th or 20th of July, about eleven o’clock at night, +he met the Cardinal at Madame de Courville’s, dressed this time in +a short violet frock-coat. He told Bette not to blame him if the +marriage did not take place, since it would be entirely Madame de +Courville’s fault. Then this lady assured him that the Cardinal +had promised her 500,000 livres (francs) on her marriage, and that +until the 500,000 livres were counted down, she would proceed no +further in the matter. Bette took care to inform the Baron de +Fages of all that transpired at this interview.</p> + +<p>About this time, Madame de Courville went to pass a few days +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_413">[413]</span>in the country, and invited Bette, as well as the Abbé Mulot and +the Baron de Fages, to visit her. The marriage ought to have +taken place on the 12th of August, the day appointed for the payment +of the 500,000 livres. On the 7th, Bette returned from +Chantilly, where the Baron de Fages then was, when he received a +note requesting him to go to Madame de Courville’s. Arrived +there, he found her in tears, when she asked him to return the +bond for 30,000 livres signed by her. Bette thereupon withdrew +it from the Abbé Mulot’s possession, and returned it to her. +Madame de Courville immediately tore it up and burnt it, adding, +that if she did not leave Paris she was lost; she begged him to go +with her, promising that her absence should not be long. Overcome +by her entreaties, he agreed. Madame de Courville then sent him +to engage a place in the diligence for Saint-Omer, in the name of +Wanin, this being the name he passed under in her house. She +observed to him that it would not be prudent for them to leave +together; that she would travel in her chaise, and would stop at +Arras, where she would await him. Arrived there, she told him +that she was going to leave France, and that, if he was prudent, he +would do the same, because he was mixed up in a grave business, +the Cardinal having been arrested the previous evening and conducted +to the Bastille; she even offered to take him with her to +London. Bette then inquired the causes of the Cardinal’s detention, +and learnt from Madame de Courville that he had bought +a Diamond Necklace, and had introduced into the negotiation for +the purchase the name of the Queen, and that his aim was to procure +the 500,000 livres necessary for her marriage portion, and to +put himself in funds, and that the diamonds she had shown him, +and was showing then at that very moment in a box, formed part +of the Necklace in question.</p> + +<p>Bette refused to accompany Madame de Courville to London, for +fear lest this journey might compromise him. He asked her for +payment of the 30,000 livres; she replied that the demand was a +just one, and that she would satisfy it at Saint-Omer, if he did not +consent to follow her. But one time when they had stopped to +change horses, he all at once saw Madame de Courville returning +towards Paris, in company of a man clad in a blue frock-coat. He +believed she was arrested, and on his arrival at Saint-Omer the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_414">[414]</span>truth of the Cardinal’s misadventure was confirmed to him. He, +for his part, betook himself to Dunkerque, where he remained till +the 16th of September, 1785.</p> + +<p>The bourgeois of Saint-Omer, living nobly and on his own resources, +having made the aforesaid deposition, estimated it at the +price of three livres, and was re-conducted to the prison of the +Châtelet.⁠<a id="FNanchor_482" href="#Footnote_482" class="fnanchor">[482]</a>⁠</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<div class="footnotes"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="FOOTNOTES">FOOTNOTES</h2> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot, ancien Ministre,” (Paris, 1866,) vol. i. p. 7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[2]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” (London, 1791,) vol. i. p. 7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[3]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 41.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[4]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 47.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[5]</a> See <a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[6]</a> Roman Catholic ecclesiastics not being permitted to marry, the title of +course could not have been transmitted by descent.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[7]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 87.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[8]</a> Now the Messageries in the Rue Notre Dame des Victoires.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[9]</a> “Never was there a more aristocratic, or, if the <i>chronique scandaleuse</i> +is to be believed, a naughtier nunnery than that of Longchamp. It was +Rabelais’ Abbey of Thélèma, with additions and emendations, and ‘Fay ce +que vouldras’ might have been written over the conventual gates. The excellent +St. Vincent de Paul was in a terrible way about the ‘goings-on’ among +these exceptionally vivacious nuns, and in a letter to Cardinal Mazarin +indignantly denounced the irregularities which had become habitual in the +establishment. The Archbishop of Paris remonstrated with the naughty +nuns; but they snapped their fingers metaphorically in the archiepiscopal +face, and continued their fandangos. But they were eventually punished +for their peccadillos. The pious world ceased in disgust to make pilgrimages +to the tomb of Ste. Isabelle de Longchamp, and to deposit rich offerings +on her shrine. At the beginning of the eighteenth century the convent had +grown comparatively poor, when, in 1727, a renowned opera singer, Mademoiselle +le Maure, having taken the veil at Longchamp, the happy thought +occurred to the abbess of giving concerts of sacred music on the three last +days of Lent. These concerts were a prodigious success. The Parisian +world, fashionable and frivolous as well as devout, flocked, as fast as their +coaches-and-six could carry them, to hear the Longchamp oratorios; and +these concerts remained in vogue for nearly fifty years. It came at last to +the ears of another Archbishop of Paris, Monsigneur Christophe de Beaumont—a +prelate celebrated for his enmity to theatrical entertainments, and +his quarrel with Jean Jacques Rousseau—that the attractions of the choir at +the Abbey of Longchamp were enhanced by the voices of a number of +artistes from the opera who had <i>not</i> taken the veil. So the church was closed +to the public. There was an end of the cause, but the effect remained.</p> + +<p>“Out of the fashionable pilgrimages grew the world-famous Promenade de +Longchamp, which began in the Champs Élysées, and wound its course right +athwart the Bois de Boulogne to the gates of the Abbey itself. It was +found that the setting-in of the spring fashions might be fitly made to coincide +with the eve of Easter; and every year during three days in Passion-week +there was an incessant cavalcade of princes, nobles, bankers, <i>fermiers-généraux</i>, +strangers of distinction, and the ladies then known as <i>ruineuses</i>, +to Longchamp. It became not a Ladies’ Mile, but a Ladies’ League. The +equipages of the grandest dames of the Court of Versailles locked wheels with +the chariots of La Duthé and La Guimard; and the legends whisper that the +<i>ruineuses</i> made, as a rule, a much more splendid appearance than the <i>grandes +dames</i> did.”—“Paris Herself Again,” by George Augustus Sala, vol. ii. p. +253, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[10]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[11]</a> See Extract from the Countess’s Life on <a href="#Page_xvi">page xvi.</a> of the present volume.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[12]</a> Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 9. See also +<a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix</a> to the present work for a more minute and technical description +of the famous Necklace.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">[13]</a> “Histoire de la Décadence de la Monarchie Française,” par l’Abbé +Soulavie, vol. iii. p 330.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">[14]</a> “Mémoires Historiques et Politiques du règne de Louis XVI.” par +l’Abbé Soulavie, vol. iii. p. 71.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">[15]</a> Misspelt “Bassange” in all the Mémoires both written and printed, and in +most of the official records of the “Affaire du Collier.” Such, however, of the +latter, as were signed by the individual in question, are invariably signed +“Bassenge.” There is some doubt as to whether Böhmer and Bassenge +were crown jewellers at this period. One or two contemporary writers who +are regarded as authorities say they were; but the writer of the letters +published under the title of “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis +XVI., Marie-Antoinette, la Cour et la Ville,” says (vol. i. p. 548) that +Böhmer was jeweller to Stanislaus, king of Poland, Louis XV.’s, father-in-law, +and also to Madame Dubarry, and that it was owing to his holding this +latter appointment that the order for the Diamond Necklace was confided +to him. The same writer asserts that it was not until early in the year 1785, +shortly after the perpetration of the Necklace fraud, that Böhmer was appointed, +through the instrumentality of Marie-Antoinette, jeweller to the +French crown. Although Böhmer may not have been officially appointed +until this date, it is quite certain he had been employed by the queen almost +from the very moment she ascended the throne of France.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">[16]</a> Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">[17]</a> Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="label">[18]</a> In the <i>livre rouge</i> of Louis XVI., under the date December, 1776, there +is an entry, in the king’s own hand, “Given to the queen 25,000 livres, +the first payment of a sum of 300,000 livres which I have engaged to pay +with interest to Böhmer in six years.”—See Archives of the Republic.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="label">[19]</a> “Correspondance Secrète de la Cour de Louis XVI.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="label">[20]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="label">[21]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 146, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="label">[22]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 10, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="label">[23]</a> M. Beugnot says Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi was a fat, handsome girl, +extremely fair, and very dull and stupid, with just sufficient instinct to +divine that she was a great lady.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="label">[24]</a> Acquired it rather by the accident of being born bastard offspring of a +king.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="label">[25]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 151, <i>et seq.</i> +The reader must take this glowing description of the wedding and what +transpired subsequently at Fontette, subject to large allowances for Madame +de la Motte’s habitual exaggeration, to make use of no stronger term.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="label">[26]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 16.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="label">[27]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 11-14.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="label">[28]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 13. Rétaux de Villette, one +of the countess’s many lovers, and of whom we shall by-and-by have occasion +to speak, professes to have heard the story of the countess’s numerous +<i>liaisons</i> from her own lips. He says that the reprobate Marquis de Boulainvilliers +succeeded in seducing both the countess and her sister, and that the +former was moreover <i>enceinte</i> by the Bishop of Langres at the time of her +marriage with M. de la Motte, which is the reason why this “worthy prelate,” +as the countess styles him, interested himself in hastening forward the +ceremony. This may seem a startling statement, but those who are aware +of the extreme immorality which pervaded the upper classes of French +society at this period, and especially the clerical section of it, will have no +difficulty in believing it. If such things were done in the green wood, +what might we not look for in the dry?—See “Mémoire Historique des +Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de Villette, p. 4, <i>et seq.</i>, also <a href="#Page_35"><i>post</i>, +p. 35</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29" class="label">[29]</a> “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 5. Villette was in the same corps as Count de la Motte, and +on duty at Lunéville at the time we are speaking of.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30" class="label">[30]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31" class="label">[31]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 17, 19.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32" class="label">[32]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33" class="label">[33]</a> Ibid, vol. i. p. 20.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34" class="label">[34]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. pp. 189, 191, 204.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35" class="label">[35]</a> “Mémoire pour Bette d’Étienville.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36" class="label">[36]</a> “Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche,” vol. i. p. 127.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37" class="label">[37]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 21, 22.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38" class="label">[38]</a> “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 10.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39" class="label">[39]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 25, 26.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40" class="label">[40]</a> “Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles,” par J. A. Le Roi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41" class="label">[41]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42" class="label">[42]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43" class="label">[43]</a> Ibid., p. 10.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44" class="label">[44]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45" class="label">[45]</a> Unpublished Autograph Letter of the Countess de la Motte in the collection +of M. Feuillet de Conches. This letter is endorsed “M. Lenoir. The +concession asked is impossible. Can they obtain other help? 18th May, +1783.” M. Lenoir was lieutenant-general of police at this period, but—owing, +it is said, to the despotic way in which he acted while occupying this +position, coupled with his abject devotion to the resentments of the great, +which induced the Duke de Nivernois to style him the first slave in the +kingdom—he was subsequently rewarded with the post of president of the +administration of finances, and eventually with the more lucrative one of +librarian to the king, a position for which it may be supposed his antecedents +had hardly qualified him.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46" class="label">[46]</a> “Confrontations du Cardinal avec Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47" class="label">[47]</a> “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 8, and “Anecdotes du Règne de Louis XVI.” vol. i. p. 367.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48" class="label">[48]</a> “Confrontations du Cardinal avec Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49" class="label">[49]</a> <a href="#Page_47">See <i>post</i>, p. 47.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50" class="label">[50]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51" class="label">[51]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 21.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52" class="label">[52]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 17.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53" class="label">[53]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 261.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_54" href="#FNanchor_54" class="label">[54]</a> Déposition de la Comtesse du Barry.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_55" href="#FNanchor_55" class="label">[55]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 265, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_56" href="#FNanchor_56" class="label">[56]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 275.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_57" href="#FNanchor_57" class="label">[57]</a> Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_58" href="#FNanchor_58" class="label">[58]</a> “Mémoires de Mdlle. Bertin,” p. 92.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_59" href="#FNanchor_59" class="label">[59]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 5, 6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_60" href="#FNanchor_60" class="label">[60]</a> “Mémoires de Mdlle. Bertin,” p. 99, <i>et seq.</i> Certain French bibliographers +have pronounced these memoirs to be forged. In quoting from +them, however, we are only following in the steps of M. Louis Blanc, who we +presume considers them authentic. From the “Mémoire” forwarded to the +queen by the crown jewellers on August 12, 1785, it would appear that +negotiations for the sale of the Necklace had been opened with the Court of +Spain and not the Court of Portugal, as stated in the Bertin “Mémoires,” +which circumstance certainly goes a good way to impugn the authenticity +of the latter.</p> + +<p>This celebrated milliner, whose name and fame have become historic, +was, it seems, employed by the Spanish court, and went to Madrid in performance +of her duties as milliner to the Spanish crown. When, preparatory +to her return to France, she presented her account to the Minister of +Finance for settlement, that functionary, who had not the slightest +knowledge of the details of her important art, strongly objected to the +amount which she claimed—some 8000<i>l.</i> The king, equally astonished with +his minister, proceeded to settle with the indignant milliner, by giving +orders to his <i>chargé-d’affaires</i> in Paris to have the account taxed. Mdlle. +Bertin protested that her account would not admit of reduction, and said +that Spain was very far from being civilized, since there was all this cavilling +about such an essential matter as articles of feminine attire. Marie-Antoinette, +it seems, interfered in her milliner’s favour, and eventually the +account was settled without abatement.—See “Correspondance Secrète +Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” etc. vol. ii. p. 21.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_61" href="#FNanchor_61" class="label">[61]</a> “Louis XVI.” par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 1, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_62" href="#FNanchor_62" class="label">[62]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 11; and Déposition de Grenier.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_63" href="#FNanchor_63" class="label">[63]</a> Déposition du Père Loth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_64" href="#FNanchor_64" class="label">[64]</a> “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” par E. Campardon, p. 44.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_65" href="#FNanchor_65" class="label">[65]</a> <i>Vide</i> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot” and Villette’s “Mémoire +Historique.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_66" href="#FNanchor_66" class="label">[66]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” pp. 11, 13.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_67" href="#FNanchor_67" class="label">[67]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 291.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_68" href="#FNanchor_68" class="label">[68]</a> “L’Histoire de France pendant le XVIIIᵉ siècle,” par C. Lacretelle, +vol. vi. pp. 114, 120.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_69" href="#FNanchor_69" class="label">[69]</a> “Mémoires du Baron de Besenval,” vol. iii. p. 122.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_70" href="#FNanchor_70" class="label">[70]</a> His depositions are signed “Desclaux.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_71" href="#FNanchor_71" class="label">[71]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 17, +19, 291.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_72" href="#FNanchor_72" class="label">[72]</a> “Correspondance Inédite de Marie-Antoinette,” par Comte P. Vogt +d’Hunolstein, p. 141.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_73" href="#FNanchor_73" class="label">[73]</a> “Procès de Marie-Antoinette,” Paris, 1865, pp. 40, 64, 65.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_74" href="#FNanchor_74" class="label">[74]</a> “Mémoires pour servir à l’Histoire des Événements de la fin du +XVIIIᵉ siècle,” par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 220.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_75" href="#FNanchor_75" class="label">[75]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 42.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_76" href="#FNanchor_76" class="label">[76]</a> “Mémoires Historiques et Politiques du règne de Louis XVI.,” par +l’Abbé Soulavie, vol. iii. p. 277, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_77" href="#FNanchor_77" class="label">[77]</a> “Mémoires pour servir à l’Histoire des Événements de la fin du +XVIIIᵉ siècle,” par l’Abbé Georgel, vol i. p. 269, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_78" href="#FNanchor_78" class="label">[78]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. i. p. 65.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_79" href="#FNanchor_79" class="label">[79]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. pp. 229, 591.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_80" href="#FNanchor_80" class="label">[80]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 294.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_81" href="#FNanchor_81" class="label">[81]</a> She had informed the cardinal that the queen had deigned to accept of +a white Spanish dog which the cardinal had offered to her through the +princess. Of course Marie-Antoinette had done nothing of the kind.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_82" href="#FNanchor_82" class="label">[82]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 12, Appendix.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_83" href="#FNanchor_83" class="label">[83]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 17, Appendix.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_84" href="#FNanchor_84" class="label">[84]</a> A few of these letters are given in the <a href="#LETTERS">Appendix</a> to the present work.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_85" href="#FNanchor_85" class="label">[85]</a> “Confrontation du Cardinal avec le Père Loth.” The latter described +the paper on which Villette wrote as being bordered with “<i>vignettes bleues</i>,” +and in M. Feuillet de Conches’ unique collection of autographs of Marie-Antoinette +are several notes written by the queen on paper with coloured +borders.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_86" href="#FNanchor_86" class="label">[86]</a> “Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche,” vol. i.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_87" href="#FNanchor_87" class="label">[87]</a> “Saverne et ses environs,” par C. G. Klein.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_88" href="#FNanchor_88" class="label">[88]</a> This refers to the year 1866. What changes the former palace may +have undergone since Saverne has been under German domination I am +unable to say.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_89" href="#FNanchor_89" class="label">[89]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 24.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_90" href="#FNanchor_90" class="label">[90]</a> The Rue du Jour is a narrow street close to the “Halles Centrales,” +and at the western end of the church of St. Eustache. It contains at the +present day several <i>Hôtels meublés</i> of a seedy kind, but the “petit hôtel +Lambesc,” where Mdlle. Leguay Designy had her small apartment on the +<i>premier étage</i>, no longer exists under its original name.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_91" href="#FNanchor_91" class="label">[91]</a> The count being, according to Rétaux de Villette, a notorious gambler, +the Palais Royal, where the <i>salons de jeu</i> most abounded, would naturally +have been one of his accustomed haunts.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_92" href="#FNanchor_92" class="label">[92]</a> More probably towards the end of July.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_93" href="#FNanchor_93" class="label">[93]</a> “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 8, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_94" href="#FNanchor_94" class="label">[94]</a> “Histoire anecdotique des Rues de Versailles,” par J. A. Le Roi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_95" href="#FNanchor_95" class="label">[95]</a> “Deuxième Mémoire pour le Sieur Bette d’Étienville,” p. 17.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_96" href="#FNanchor_96" class="label">[96]</a> “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 16.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_97" href="#FNanchor_97" class="label">[97]</a> “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 16, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_98" href="#FNanchor_98" class="label">[98]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 52, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_99" href="#FNanchor_99" class="label">[99]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_100" href="#FNanchor_100" class="label">[100]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i p. 67, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_101" href="#FNanchor_101" class="label">[101]</a> In the cardinal’s first “Mémoire” he states the sum to have been sixty +thousand livres, but at his examination he fixed it at fifty thousand.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_102" href="#FNanchor_102" class="label">[102]</a> “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt, p. 202.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_103" href="#FNanchor_103" class="label">[103]</a> “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 34.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_104" href="#FNanchor_104" class="label">[104]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 33, 34.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_105" href="#FNanchor_105" class="label">[105]</a> “Essais Historiques sur la Ville de Bar-sur-Aube,” etc., par J. F. G., +and “Histoire de Bar-sur-Aube,” par L. Chevalier.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_106" href="#FNanchor_106" class="label">[106]</a> An evident allusion to the ancient Roman triumphs.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_107" href="#FNanchor_107" class="label">[107]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 35, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_108" href="#FNanchor_108" class="label">[108]</a> A pun upon <i>La Motte</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_109" href="#FNanchor_109" class="label">[109]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 41, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_110" href="#FNanchor_110" class="label">[110]</a> There were twenty-four livres or francs in the louis of those days.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_111" href="#FNanchor_111" class="label">[111]</a> This letter of Mademoiselle de Saint-Remi’s has obtained the honour of +being preserved among the historical autographs in the National Archives.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_112" href="#FNanchor_112" class="label">[112]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 45, <i>et seq.</i>, 259, 260, 262.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_113" href="#FNanchor_113" class="label">[113]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 92.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_114" href="#FNanchor_114" class="label">[114]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 75, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_115" href="#FNanchor_115" class="label">[115]</a> This and similar allusions to localities connected with our narrative +refer to the year 1866.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_116" href="#FNanchor_116" class="label">[116]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_117" href="#FNanchor_117" class="label">[117]</a> Déposition de Bassenge.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_118" href="#FNanchor_118" class="label">[118]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. pp. 340, 341.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_119" href="#FNanchor_119" class="label">[119]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 93, <i>et seq.</i>, and +“Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol i. p. 344 <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_120" href="#FNanchor_120" class="label">[120]</a> Madame Campan states that “<i>Vu bon.—Marie-Antoinette</i>” was the form +in which the queen certified the accuracy of an account.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_121" href="#FNanchor_121" class="label">[121]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 47, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_122" href="#FNanchor_122" class="label">[122]</a> <a href="#Page_120">See <i>post</i>, p. 120.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_123" href="#FNanchor_123" class="label">[123]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 50.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_124" href="#FNanchor_124" class="label">[124]</a> “Cagliostro’s Stammbaum” von Wolfgang von Goethe.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_125" href="#FNanchor_125" class="label">[125]</a> “Louis XVI.,” par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 154.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_126" href="#FNanchor_126" class="label">[126]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_127" href="#FNanchor_127" class="label">[127]</a> “Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche,” vol. i. pp. 129, 144.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_128" href="#FNanchor_128" class="label">[128]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 59.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_129" href="#FNanchor_129" class="label">[129]</a> <a href="#Page_230">See <i>post</i>, p. 230.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_130" href="#FNanchor_130" class="label">[130]</a> It is the corner house looking on to the Boulevard Beaumarchais.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_131" href="#FNanchor_131" class="label">[131]</a> “Histoire de la Révolution Française,” par Louis Blanc, vol. ii. p. 82.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_132" href="#FNanchor_132" class="label">[132]</a> “Réponse pour la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 27.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_133" href="#FNanchor_133" class="label">[133]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 59, <i>et seq.</i></p> + +<p>Cagliostro laid claim to being possessed of the power not only of transmuting +metals and curing all diseases, but of calling up spirits from the +other world. His evocations were certainly not without an element of art. +On one occasion the spirit the company desired to commune with was that +of D’Alembert, and from notes furnished by an eye-witness, Lady Mantz, +the actor Fleury gives the following account of the ceremony in his +<i>Mémoires</i>:—</p> + +<p>“The spectators or, as Cagliostro preferred to call them, guests sat in arm-chairs +along the wall on the east side of the apartment. Before these chairs +was drawn an iron chain,” lest some foolish person should be impelled by +curiosity to rush upon destruction. “On the other side was placed the +chair intended for the reception of the apparition. The Grand Koptha—the +name assumed by Cagliostro on such occasions—chose the unusual hour +of 3 a.m. for his evocations. Shortly before that time a voice was heard to +order the removal from the scene of cats, dogs, horses, birds, and all +reptiles, should any be near. Then came a command that none but free +men should remain in the apartment; the servants were accordingly dismissed. +A deep silence followed, and the lights were suddenly extinguished. +The same voice, now assuming a louder and more authoritative +tone, requested the guests to shake the iron chain; they obeyed, and an +indescribable thrill ran through their frames. The clock at length struck +three—slowly, and with a prolonged vibration of the bell. At each stroke +a flash, as sudden and transitory as lightning, illumined the apartment, and +the words ‘Philosophy,’ ‘Nature,’ and ‘Truth’ successively appeared in +legible characters above the empty arm chair. The last word was more +brilliant than the others. The lustres were suddenly relighted, how no one +could tell. Stifled cries were heard as from a man whose mouth was +gagged—a noise like that of a man struggling to break loose from persons +detaining him;—and Cagliostro appeared.</p> + +<p>“The Grand Koptha wore a costume to which it would be difficult to find +anything analogous. Flowing drapery set off his figure to advantage, and +the glow of enthusiasm in his face made him look really handsome. He +delivered a short but comprehensive address, commenting on the words +just seen over the chair. Then, turning successively to the four cardinal +points, he uttered some cabalistic words, which returned as if from a distant +echo. The lights having been extinguished, he commanded the guests again +to shake the chain, and as they did so the strange feeling previously +alluded to was renewed. The outline of the arm-chair now became gradually +perceptible in the darkness, as though the lines had been traced on a +black ground with phosphorus. The next moment, and as if by the same +process, a winding sheet could be seen, with two fleshless hands resting +upon the arm of the chair. The winding sheet, slowly opening, discovered +an emaciated form; a short breathing was heard, and two brilliant piercing +eyes were fixed upon the spectators.”</p> + +<p>The illustrious philosopher, the author of the Preface to the “<i>Encyclopédie</i>,” +had been called from the dead. He would answer questions put to him, +but Cagliostro alone was privileged to hear him speak. “And what +questions were put to him?” asked Fleury of Lady Mantz. “He was +asked whether he had seen the other world.” “And what did he say?” +“Ah, Monsieur Fleury, it was a terrible reply, especially to one who, like +me, looks forward to a better future. He said, ‘There is no other world.’” +“And did no one reply?” “Reply! who could venture to reply to the +ghost of M. d’Alembert, returned from—ah, whence?” “That is precisely +the thing. You should have said, ‘M. d’Alembert, if there is no other +world, where may you happen to come from now?’”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_134" href="#FNanchor_134" class="label">[134]</a> According to the official documents relating to the “Affaire du Collier” +the correct name of this individual was Desclaux.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_135" href="#FNanchor_135" class="label">[135]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 99.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_136" href="#FNanchor_136" class="label">[136]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 39. All the persons concerned +in the famous nocturnal meeting differed with regard to the date at +which it took place. Madame de la Motte, as we have already stated, fixes +it on the 28th of July.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_137" href="#FNanchor_137" class="label">[137]</a> Miswritten “Regnier” in the official records. Regnier was another +goldsmith with whom the De la Mottes had considerable dealings, bought +their service of plate of, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_138" href="#FNanchor_138" class="label">[138]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_139" href="#FNanchor_139" class="label">[139]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_140" href="#FNanchor_140" class="label">[140]</a> “Histoire du Bois de Boulogne,” par J. Lobet, p. 141.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_141" href="#FNanchor_141" class="label">[141]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_142" href="#FNanchor_142" class="label">[142]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 350, and +“Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_143" href="#FNanchor_143" class="label">[143]</a> Déposition de Bassenge.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_144" href="#FNanchor_144" class="label">[144]</a> Madame Campan’s memory appears to have been at fault here.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_145" href="#FNanchor_145" class="label">[145]</a> The reader will have observed that specific mention is not made in the +jewellers’ letter of the Necklace itself, which Marie-Antoinette, in common +with everybody else, had no doubt heard had been sold to the Sultan. +Besides, only some two months previously the queen had purchased of +Böhmer a magnificent pair of diamond earrings at the cost, it was reported, +of 800,000 livres, and why might not this letter in the queen’s mind have +borne reference to these rather than to the Diamond Necklace? See +“Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” etc., +vol. i. p. 562.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_146" href="#FNanchor_146" class="label">[146]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 227.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_147" href="#FNanchor_147" class="label">[147]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 92.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_148" href="#FNanchor_148" class="label">[148]</a> See Appendix to the present work, <a href="#Page_394">p. 394</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_149" href="#FNanchor_149" class="label">[149]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_150" href="#FNanchor_150" class="label">[150]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 80.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_151" href="#FNanchor_151" class="label">[151]</a> This, if true, was a piece of vain boasting on the cardinal’s part, for it is +quite certain that he received the thirty thousand livres from Madame de +la Motte, who professed to have brought them from the queen.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_152" href="#FNanchor_152" class="label">[152]</a> “Deuxième Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_153" href="#FNanchor_153" class="label">[153]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii pp. 9, +12, 279.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_154" href="#FNanchor_154" class="label">[154]</a> It is important that this date should be noted; for the circumstances +which transpired on it, and which are chronicled in the police records, +effectually dispose of the theory advanced by certain writers—such as M. +Alexandre Dumas, in his “Louis XVI.” (vol. iii. p. 194, <i>et seq.</i>)—who +maintain that Marie-Antoinette really purchased the Necklace, through the +instrumentality of the Cardinal de Rohan, and, after keeping it something +like three months, returned it to the jewellers by the hands of Madame de +la Motte, on finding that she was unable to raise the money to meet the first +instalment. While asserting that Madame de la Motte was really the +queen’s confidant, the writers referred to are forced to admit that she betrayed +her trust, and converted the Necklace to her own use.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_155" href="#FNanchor_155" class="label">[155]</a> <a href="#Page_44">See <i>ante</i>, p. 44</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_156" href="#FNanchor_156" class="label">[156]</a> Déposition de Vidal, and Déposition de Brugnières, inspecteur de police. +Brugnières was the police agent who arrested Mirabeau and Madame de +Monnier in Holland, after their elopement from France.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_157" href="#FNanchor_157" class="label">[157]</a> “Mémoire pour Bette d’Étienville,” and Déposition de Bette d’Étienville. +See also Appendix, <a href="#Page_409">p. 409</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_158" href="#FNanchor_158" class="label">[158]</a> Déposition de Furet.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_159" href="#FNanchor_159" class="label">[159]</a> Déposition de Regnier.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_160" href="#FNanchor_160" class="label">[160]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.” <a href="#Page_148">Also <i>post</i>, p. 148.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_161" href="#FNanchor_161" class="label">[161]</a> Déposition de Perregaux, banquier.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_162" href="#FNanchor_162" class="label">[162]</a> Gray’s shop was No. 13, and the largest in New Bond Street. The +house, which is within two doors of Long’s hotel, must have been quite a +new building at the time the Count de la Motte had dealings with the crack +London jeweller of that day.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_163" href="#FNanchor_163" class="label">[163]</a> <a href="#Page_140">See <i>ante</i>, p. 140</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_164" href="#FNanchor_164" class="label">[164]</a> Which in fact was <i>not</i> a falsehood. See Jefferys’ deposition, given in +the “Pièces Justificatives pour le Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_165" href="#FNanchor_165" class="label">[165]</a> Déposition de McDermott.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_166" href="#FNanchor_166" class="label">[166]</a> There is evidently some blunder here. This must be the aigrette in the +form of a rose, for which Gray charged £60. <a href="#Page_151">See <i>post</i>, p. 151.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_167" href="#FNanchor_167" class="label">[167]</a> <a href="#Page_147">See <i>ante</i>, p. 147</a>. The Count there says twenty-eight.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_168" href="#FNanchor_168" class="label">[168]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 194, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_169" href="#FNanchor_169" class="label">[169]</a> “Pièces Justificatives pour le Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_170" href="#FNanchor_170" class="label">[170]</a> “Confrontation du Cardinal de Rohan avec le Père Loth.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_171" href="#FNanchor_171" class="label">[171]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_172" href="#FNanchor_172" class="label">[172]</a> Déposition de Perregaux.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_173" href="#FNanchor_173" class="label">[173]</a> <a href="#Page_148">See <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_174" href="#FNanchor_174" class="label">[174]</a> Déposition de Regnier.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_175" href="#FNanchor_175" class="label">[175]</a> “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” par E. Campardon. Paris, +1858, p. 98.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_176" href="#FNanchor_176" class="label">[176]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 49.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_177" href="#FNanchor_177" class="label">[177]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire du Cardinal de Rohan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_178" href="#FNanchor_178" class="label">[178]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 72.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_179" href="#FNanchor_179" class="label">[179]</a> Déposition de Bassenge.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_180" href="#FNanchor_180" class="label">[180]</a> <a href="#Page_135">See <i>ante</i>, p. 135</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_181" href="#FNanchor_181" class="label">[181]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 283-4. +Madame Campan is the single authority for this reputed interview between +Böhmer and the queen. Other accounts agree in stating that the queen +invariably refused to see the crown jeweller, under the pretence that his +threats of suicide alarmed her. Still, as Madame Campan was so intimately +mixed up with the affair at this particular juncture, she could hardly be +mistaken on so important a point as this interview. If it really did take +place, Böhmer must have kept the cardinal in ignorance of it, for had he +known of it he would hardly have counselled the jeweller to attempt to +throw dust in the eyes of the astute De Breteuil. See the next page.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_182" href="#FNanchor_182" class="label">[182]</a> “Memoirs of Marie Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 284.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_183" href="#FNanchor_183" class="label">[183]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 74.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_184" href="#FNanchor_184" class="label">[184]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 375, <i>et seq.</i>, +and “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_185" href="#FNanchor_185" class="label">[185]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 83. Villette evidently +lingered for some time on French soil, for his passport for Italy was not +dated until August 20, two days after the countess’s arrest.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_186" href="#FNanchor_186" class="label">[186]</a> Déposition de Bassenge.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_187" href="#FNanchor_187" class="label">[187]</a> Déposition du Père Loth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_188" href="#FNanchor_188" class="label">[188]</a> “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 59.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_189" href="#FNanchor_189" class="label">[189]</a> “Some of the De la Mottes’ fine furniture may still be seen at Bar-sur-Aube, +in the <i>salon</i> of the son of a former postmaster of the place, who +subsequently bought the house itself of the count. To-day, improvements +in the town of Bar-sur-Aube have necessitated the partial destruction of the +De la Motte abode, fragments of which exist in no less than three separate +streets.”—<i>Letter from the Curé of Bar-sur-Aube to the author</i>, 1866.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_190" href="#FNanchor_190" class="label">[190]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 70, 71.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_191" href="#FNanchor_191" class="label">[191]</a> “Authentic Adventures of the Countess de la Motte,” p. 119.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_192" href="#FNanchor_192" class="label">[192]</a> Ibid. p. 120. The author of this work states that he was at Bar-sur-Aube +at this particular period, and saw the count riding about in the +balloon-shaped carriage above mentioned. Balloons, it should be remembered, +were then a recent invention, Montgolfier having made his first +ascent in December, 1783, some twenty months previously.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_193" href="#FNanchor_193" class="label">[193]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol i. p. 71.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_194" href="#FNanchor_194" class="label">[194]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 71, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_195" href="#FNanchor_195" class="label">[195]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 76-77.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_196" href="#FNanchor_196" class="label">[196]</a> “Mémoires de la Baronne d’Oberkirche,” vol i. p. 127.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_197" href="#FNanchor_197" class="label">[197]</a> See Georgel, who attributed this movement of the cardinal’s to his firm +belief at the time that the queen had really employed Madame de la Motte +as her intermediary in the Necklace affair.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_198" href="#FNanchor_198" class="label">[198]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. 13, +14, 15, 286-7. Madame Campan has extracted the foregoing narrative, +nearly word for word, from a newspaper of the time—the <i>Journal des +Débats</i>. See the Abbé Soulavie’s “Mémoires Historiques et Politiques du +règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. vi. p. 81, <i>et seq.</i>, where the same account will +be found quoted.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_199" href="#FNanchor_199" class="label">[199]</a> “Mémoires du Baron de Besenval,” vol. iii. p. 127. The baron adds +that he heard the whole of this detail told to the queen, but nothing was +said of the contents of the paper written by the cardinal.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_200" href="#FNanchor_200" class="label">[200]</a> It is No. 6 in the Rue des Réservoirs. <i>Vide</i> “Histoire Anecdotique +des Rues de Versailles,” par J. A. Le Roi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_201" href="#FNanchor_201" class="label">[201]</a> There are other versions of this incident: we have, however, preferred to +follow the Abbé Georgel’s. See “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., vol. ii. pp. +103-4. Madame Campan says that the cardinal borrowed the pencil which +he used from the sub-lieutenant into whose custody he was given, and who, +when reprimanded for having permitted the cardinal to write, excused +himself by saying that the orders he received did not forbid his doing so; +and that, moreover, being himself in great pecuniary difficulties, he thought +the unaccustomed summons, “In the king’s name, follow me,” addressed +to him by the Baron de Breteuil, concerned him personally, which for the +moment so unnerved him that he hardly knew what he was doing. See +“Madame Campan’s Memoirs,” vol. ii. pp. 15, 16, 284.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_202" href="#FNanchor_202" class="label">[202]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 79.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_203" href="#FNanchor_203" class="label">[203]</a> “Essais Historiques sur la ville de Bar-sur-Aube,” par J. G. F.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_204" href="#FNanchor_204" class="label">[204]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 79, 80.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_205" href="#FNanchor_205" class="label">[205]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol i. p. 80, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_206" href="#FNanchor_206" class="label">[206]</a> “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 385.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_207" href="#FNanchor_207" class="label">[207]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_208" href="#FNanchor_208" class="label">[208]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. pp. 85, 86.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_209" href="#FNanchor_209" class="label">[209]</a> “Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro contre Maître Chesnon fils et le +Sieur de Launay,” p. 4, <i>et seq.</i> In several of the earlier documents filed in +the “Affaire du Collier,” the prefix “Count” has been marked through +with a pen, both where it occurs in the body of the instrument and also as +part of Cagliostro’s signature. After a time, the registrar or reporter seems +to have grown tired of making this excision, and to have allowed the disputed +title to pass unobliterated.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_210" href="#FNanchor_210" class="label">[210]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. pp. 49, 108.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_211" href="#FNanchor_211" class="label">[211]</a> M. Feuillet de Conches has, among his curious collection of autographs +relating to the affair of the Diamond Necklace, a series of reports from the +Marquis de Launay to the Baron de Breteuil, which give, day by day, a list of +the persons who visited the cardinal during his confinement in the Bastille.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_212" href="#FNanchor_212" class="label">[212]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. pp. 600, 616.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_213" href="#FNanchor_213" class="label">[213]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 389, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_214" href="#FNanchor_214" class="label">[214]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 408.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_215" href="#FNanchor_215" class="label">[215]</a> Ibid. vol. i. p. 416.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_216" href="#FNanchor_216" class="label">[216]</a> Autograph letter of Madame de la Motte’s in the National Archives.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_217" href="#FNanchor_217" class="label">[217]</a> Anonymous autograph letter of Madame de la Motte’s in the collection +of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_218" href="#FNanchor_218" class="label">[218]</a> M. F. Barrière.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_219" href="#FNanchor_219" class="label">[219]</a> “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt, pp. 39, 102.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_220" href="#FNanchor_220" class="label">[220]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol i.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_221" href="#FNanchor_221" class="label">[221]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. p. 233.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_222" href="#FNanchor_222" class="label">[222]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. p. 339.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_223" href="#FNanchor_223" class="label">[223]</a> “Les derniers jours de Trianon,” par M. Capefigue, p. 25.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_224" href="#FNanchor_224" class="label">[224]</a> <a href="#Page_50">See <i>ante</i>, p. 50</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_225" href="#FNanchor_225" class="label">[225]</a> “Weber’s Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” vol. ii. p. 263.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_226" href="#FNanchor_226" class="label">[226]</a> “Lettres et Documenta Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. iii. p. 318.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_227" href="#FNanchor_227" class="label">[227]</a> “Souvenirs de la Marquise de Créqui,” par le Comte de Courchamps.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_228" href="#FNanchor_228" class="label">[228]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc. vol. i. p. 355.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_229" href="#FNanchor_229" class="label">[229]</a> “Louis XVI.,” par Alexandre Dumas, vol. iii. p. 167.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_230" href="#FNanchor_230" class="label">[230]</a> “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt. Most of +the foregoing particulars respecting the queen’s society at the Little Trianon +have been derived from this work.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_231" href="#FNanchor_231" class="label">[231]</a> “Mémoires Posthumes du Feld-Maréchal Comte de Stedingk,” vol. +iii. pp. 17, 74.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_232" href="#FNanchor_232" class="label">[232]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte,” by herself, vol. i. p. 312, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_233" href="#FNanchor_233" class="label">[233]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. i. p. 242.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_234" href="#FNanchor_234" class="label">[234]</a> “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt, to which +interesting work we are indebted for the larger portion of the present +chapter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_235" href="#FNanchor_235" class="label">[235]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. pp. 238, 330.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_236" href="#FNanchor_236" class="label">[236]</a> Ibid. vol. i. p. 315.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_237" href="#FNanchor_237" class="label">[237]</a> “Les derniers jours de Trianon,” par M. Capefigue p. 84.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_238" href="#FNanchor_238" class="label">[238]</a> M. de Lescure, in his “La Vraie Marie-Antoinette,” brings forward +evidence of the existence of a private printing press in the cellars of the +Palais Royal, at which these foul libels were struck off.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_239" href="#FNanchor_239" class="label">[239]</a> “Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 36, <i>note</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_240" href="#FNanchor_240" class="label">[240]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, la +Cour et la Ville,” vol. i. p. 587.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_241" href="#FNanchor_241" class="label">[241]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol, i. pp. 97-8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_242" href="#FNanchor_242" class="label">[242]</a> Unpublished autograph letter of Louis XVI. in the collection of M. +Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_243" href="#FNanchor_243" class="label">[243]</a> “Souvenirs de M. Berryer, doyen des avocats de Paris, de 1774 à +1838,” vol. ii. p. 51.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_244" href="#FNanchor_244" class="label">[244]</a> Ibid., vol. ii. p. 49.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_245" href="#FNanchor_245" class="label">[245]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 127.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_246" href="#FNanchor_246" class="label">[246]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 138, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_247" href="#FNanchor_247" class="label">[247]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 143.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_248" href="#FNanchor_248" class="label">[248]</a> Ibid., vol. ii. p. 145.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_249" href="#FNanchor_249" class="label">[249]</a> “Correspondance Inédite de Marie-Antoinette,” par Comte P. Vogt +d’Hunolstein, p. 133. It should be mentioned that the majority of the +letters in this collection are considered to be of doubtful authenticity.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_250" href="#FNanchor_250" class="label">[250]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 426.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_251" href="#FNanchor_251" class="label">[251]</a> In the French State paper office a minute description is preserved of +the documents, put in on behalf of the prosecution in the “Procès du +Collier.” An epitome of this will be found in the <a href="#PROCES-VERBAL">appendix</a> to the present +volume.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_252" href="#FNanchor_252" class="label">[252]</a> This name occurs as Filliau in the written record of the proceedings, +preserved in the National Archives.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_253" href="#FNanchor_253" class="label">[253]</a> “Premier Interrogatoire de Madame de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_254" href="#FNanchor_254" class="label">[254]</a> Cagliostro’s wife was known by this designation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_255" href="#FNanchor_255" class="label">[255]</a> This was an alias of Rétaux de Villette’s. <a href="#Page_243">See <i>post</i>, p. 243.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_256" href="#FNanchor_256" class="label">[256]</a> “Interrogatoire du Sieur de Cagliostro.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_257" href="#FNanchor_257" class="label">[257]</a> “Correspondence Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette, la +Cour et la Ville,” vol. i. p. 592.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_258" href="#FNanchor_258" class="label">[258]</a> As an example of Cagliostro’s audacity in this respect, it may be mentioned +that, when first questioned by the lieutenant of police, who, in +allusion to the Necklace affair, inquired if he had nothing to reproach himself +with—he coolly replied, Nothing but the death of Pompey, and that +even with regard to this he acted under the orders of Ptolemy. The +lieutenant of police, not taken in the least aback, quietly observed they +would refrain from going into any matters that occurred under his predecessors +in office. See “Correspondance Secrète Inédite,” etc., vol. ii. +p. 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_259" href="#FNanchor_259" class="label">[259]</a> We have been unable to fathom the meaning of this allusion. All we +have succeeded in discovering about Madame Böhmer is, that she was the +“famous Demoiselle Renaud,” but whence she derived her celebrity we are +left in the dark.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_260" href="#FNanchor_260" class="label">[260]</a> “Premier Mémoire pour la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 27, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_261" href="#FNanchor_261" class="label">[261]</a> Autograph Report of the Marquis de Launay, governor of the Bastille, +in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_262" href="#FNanchor_262" class="label">[262]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 19, 20.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_263" href="#FNanchor_263" class="label">[263]</a> Confrontations du Cardinal de Rohan avec Madame de la Motte.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_264" href="#FNanchor_264" class="label">[264]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 30.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_265" href="#FNanchor_265" class="label">[265]</a> Ibid., vol. ii. p. 41.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_266" href="#FNanchor_266" class="label">[266]</a> Ibid., vol. ii. p. 40.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_267" href="#FNanchor_267" class="label">[267]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 55.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_268" href="#FNanchor_268" class="label">[268]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 185.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_269" href="#FNanchor_269" class="label">[269]</a> Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte avec les témoins.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_270" href="#FNanchor_270" class="label">[270]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 47.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_271" href="#FNanchor_271" class="label">[271]</a> Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte avec les témoins.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_272" href="#FNanchor_272" class="label">[272]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., pp. 75-6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_273" href="#FNanchor_273" class="label">[273]</a> Confrontations de la Dame de la Motte et du Cardinal.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_274" href="#FNanchor_274" class="label">[274]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 235.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_275" href="#FNanchor_275" class="label">[275]</a> “Mémoire pour la Demoiselle Leguay d’Oliva,” p. 34.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_276" href="#FNanchor_276" class="label">[276]</a> “Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro,” p. 46.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_277" href="#FNanchor_277" class="label">[277]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 238.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_278" href="#FNanchor_278" class="label">[278]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 241.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_279" href="#FNanchor_279" class="label">[279]</a> “Mémoire pour le Cardinal de Rohan,” p. 50.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_280" href="#FNanchor_280" class="label">[280]</a> Autograph Letter of the Abbé Georgel, in the collection of M. Feuillet +de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_281" href="#FNanchor_281" class="label">[281]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 31.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_282" href="#FNanchor_282" class="label">[282]</a> “Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 57.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_283" href="#FNanchor_283" class="label">[283]</a> “Requête pour le Sieur Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette,” p. 5. See +also “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 26.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_284" href="#FNanchor_284" class="label">[284]</a> “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 60.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_285" href="#FNanchor_285" class="label">[285]</a> Premier Interrogatoire de Rétaux de Villette.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_286" href="#FNanchor_286" class="label">[286]</a> If this statement was true it is difficult to conceive how the cardinal +and the jewellers could have been deceived by the signature affixed to the +contract, for there is not the slightest resemblance between Villette’s bold +upright style of penmanship as it appears in the numerous signatures +appended to his depositions, etc., and the cramped, slanting, handwriting of +Marie-Antoinette. Even if the cardinal was unacquainted with the precise +character of the queen’s handwriting at this epoch, it is most improbable +that Böhmer was in a like state of ignorance.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_287" href="#FNanchor_287" class="label">[287]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 103.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_288" href="#FNanchor_288" class="label">[288]</a> Deuxième Interrogatoire de Rétaux de Villette.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_289" href="#FNanchor_289" class="label">[289]</a> “Mémoire Historique,” etc., par Rétaux de Villette, pp. 65-72.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_290" href="#FNanchor_290" class="label">[290]</a> Confrontations de Madame de la Motte avec Rétaux de Villette.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_291" href="#FNanchor_291" class="label">[291]</a> “Sommaire pour la Comtesse de la Motte,” pp. 17, 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_292" href="#FNanchor_292" class="label">[292]</a> See note, p. 164, vol. i. of “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. +et Marie-Antoinette,” par M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_293" href="#FNanchor_293" class="label">[293]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 330.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_294" href="#FNanchor_294" class="label">[294]</a> Ibid. vol. ii. p. 329, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_295" href="#FNanchor_295" class="label">[295]</a> “Requête pour le Sieur Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette,” p. 10.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_296" href="#FNanchor_296" class="label">[296]</a> Confrontations du Cardinal de Rohan avec Madame de la Motte.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_297" href="#FNanchor_297" class="label">[297]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 97.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_298" href="#FNanchor_298" class="label">[298]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 85.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_299" href="#FNanchor_299" class="label">[299]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 31, 71.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_300" href="#FNanchor_300" class="label">[300]</a> Ibid. vol. i. p. 408.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_301" href="#FNanchor_301" class="label">[301]</a> Ibid. vol. i. p. 449.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_302" href="#FNanchor_302" class="label">[302]</a> Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 18, 51, 77; and “Mémoires Justificatifs.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_303" href="#FNanchor_303" class="label">[303]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 24, 27, 29.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_304" href="#FNanchor_304" class="label">[304]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs,” p. 237. To have tampered with the records, +would have been exceedingly difficult, as the reader will perceive by referring +to the extract from the National Archives, given at <a href="#Page_395">p. 395</a> <i>et seq.</i> of the +Appendix to this volume.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_305" href="#FNanchor_305" class="label">[305]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 90.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_306" href="#FNanchor_306" class="label">[306]</a> Ibid. vol. ii. p. 109.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_307" href="#FNanchor_307" class="label">[307]</a> Ibid. vol. ii. pp. 66, 67.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_308" href="#FNanchor_308" class="label">[308]</a> Arrêt du Parlement. “Collection complète de tous les Mémoires qui +ont paru dans la fameuse Affaire du Collier,” etc., p. 24.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_309" href="#FNanchor_309" class="label">[309]</a> This refers to its condition in the year 1867. It has since been renovated.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_310" href="#FNanchor_310" class="label">[310]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 93, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_311" href="#FNanchor_311" class="label">[311]</a> The “Tournelle” was the Chamber that had the judging of criminal +matters.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_312" href="#FNanchor_312" class="label">[312]</a> “Mémoires de Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 290.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_313" href="#FNanchor_313" class="label">[313]</a> Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de +Boufflers (Paris 1875), p. 121.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_314" href="#FNanchor_314" class="label">[314]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. pp. 179, 196.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_315" href="#FNanchor_315" class="label">[315]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 96.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_316" href="#FNanchor_316" class="label">[316]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 114.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_317" href="#FNanchor_317" class="label">[317]</a> “To-day,” writes M. Berryer, in 1837, “when my fancy carries itself +back to fifty years or so ago”—the very date of the Necklace trial—“towards +the Palais de Justice, I recognize neither the same antique structure, +nor the same internal divisions, nor those innumerable jurisdictions of +which it was the seat, nor that inconceivable flood of persons interested, +whose tumultuous waves were agitated every day for hours together, and +more especially from noon until two o’clock.</p> + +<p>“Outside the edifice was a large staircase, crowded with shops piled one +above the other, flanked by the offices of writers, starting from the angle +of the handsome railings, on the side of the Pont-au-Change, extending to +the circle of the old Cour du Mai, and serving as a girdle to the Sainte-Chapelle, +a confused mass of steps and stalls pictured with such animation +in the Lutrin of Boileau. Who does not recollect the inquiry made by the +countryman of an <i>avocat</i>, laden with several bags of briefs, on catching sight +of this grotesque staircase, ‘Sir,’ said he, ‘will you be kind enough to tell +me what that building is?’ ‘It is a mill,’ replied the over-worked <i>avocat</i>. +‘Ah! I guessed as much,’ remarked the countryman, ‘from seeing so many +donkeys carrying their sacks to it.’</p> + +<p>“Under the immense vaulted galleries, and also surrounding all the +columns of the great hall, were more rows of shops filled with merchandise +of all kinds, which had caused the name <i>Palais Marchand</i> to be given to +this temple of justice. The Parliament alone occupied seven large halls—the +grand chamber, the <i>tournelle</i>, the three halls of inquests, and the halls +of requests. The grand chamber, with its arched roof springing from gilded +brackets, was an austere-looking place. Perched above were two galleries +reserved for the accommodation of great personages, and which I have seen +occupied, among others, by the Emperor Joseph II., the unfortunate +Gustavus, king of Sweden, and by the Count and Countess du Nord, since +Emperor and Empress of Russia.”—<i>Souvenirs de M. Berryer</i>, vol. ii. p. 25, +<i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_318" href="#FNanchor_318" class="label">[318]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 96-9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_319" href="#FNanchor_319" class="label">[319]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 115.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_320" href="#FNanchor_320" class="label">[320]</a> Nothing of the kind is to be found in the records of the countess’s +examinations.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_321" href="#FNanchor_321" class="label">[321]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 115.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_322" href="#FNanchor_322" class="label">[322]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 100, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_323" href="#FNanchor_323" class="label">[323]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 118.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_324" href="#FNanchor_324" class="label">[324]</a> “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 410.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_325" href="#FNanchor_325" class="label">[325]</a> “Mémoires pour servir,” etc., par l’Abbé Georgel, vol. ii. p. 197.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_326" href="#FNanchor_326" class="label">[326]</a> “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 400.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_327" href="#FNanchor_327" class="label">[327]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 118.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_328" href="#FNanchor_328" class="label">[328]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. i. p. 615.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_329" href="#FNanchor_329" class="label">[329]</a> “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de +Boufflers” (Paris 1875).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_330" href="#FNanchor_330" class="label">[330]</a> “Memoirs of Marie Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 295. +In the doubtful Memoirs of the Princess de Lamballe, we find that Princess +asserting she had had in her possession documentary evidence of the immense +sums spent by the Princess de Condé in corrupting the judges and other +persons. More than a million francs were expended, she says, by the +families of Rohan and Condé in this way. See “Mémoires relatifs à la +Famille Royale de France,” etc., vol. i. pp. 306-7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_331" href="#FNanchor_331" class="label">[331]</a> “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 412.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_332" href="#FNanchor_332" class="label">[332]</a> Extract from the Imperial Archives given in M. Campardon’s “Marie-Antoinette +et le procès du Collier,” p. 149.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_333" href="#FNanchor_333" class="label">[333]</a> “Mémoires du Baron de Besenval,” vol. iii. p. 135.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_334" href="#FNanchor_334" class="label">[334]</a> “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran,” etc., p. 123.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_335" href="#FNanchor_335" class="label">[335]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” p. 123.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_336" href="#FNanchor_336" class="label">[336]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 293.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_337" href="#FNanchor_337" class="label">[337]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 121.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_338" href="#FNanchor_338" class="label">[338]</a> “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.,” vol. i. p. 412.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_339" href="#FNanchor_339" class="label">[339]</a> Spite of this express order the document is not to be found among the +other papers relating to the “Affaire du Collier,” preserved in the National +Archives.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_340" href="#FNanchor_340" class="label">[340]</a> The letters G A L, with which Count de la Motte was sentenced to be +branded, were doubtless intended as an abbreviation of the word <i>Galérien</i>, +or galley slave.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_341" href="#FNanchor_341" class="label">[341]</a> This branding of the Countess with the letter V, was designed to +signify <i>Voleuse</i>, or thief.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_342" href="#FNanchor_342" class="label">[342]</a> “Arrêt du Parlement,” preserved in the National Archives, X² 2576.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_343" href="#FNanchor_343" class="label">[343]</a> “Mémoires Historiques et Politiques du règne de Louis XVI.,” par +l’Abbé Soulavie, vol. vi. p. 73.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_344" href="#FNanchor_344" class="label">[344]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 120-1.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_345" href="#FNanchor_345" class="label">[345]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 63.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_346" href="#FNanchor_346" class="label">[346]</a> “Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_347" href="#FNanchor_347" class="label">[347]</a> “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran,” etc., p. 125.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_348" href="#FNanchor_348" class="label">[348]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 153, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_349" href="#FNanchor_349" class="label">[349]</a> “Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro,” p. 27.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_350" href="#FNanchor_350" class="label">[350]</a> “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 70.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_351" href="#FNanchor_351" class="label">[351]</a> “Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro,” p. 27.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_352" href="#FNanchor_352" class="label">[352]</a> Hon. W. Eden to Mr. Pitt, in “Lord Auckland’s Journals and Correspondence,” +vol. i. p. 132.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_353" href="#FNanchor_353" class="label">[353]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 293.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_354" href="#FNanchor_354" class="label">[354]</a> Autograph letter from Marie-Antoinette to the Duchess de Polignac, in +the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_355" href="#FNanchor_355" class="label">[355]</a> An inadvertent mistake has been here made by the queen. It was the +cardinal who received the rose. This incidental error of the queen’s +furnishes a convincing proof, if any were needed, that she played no part in +the midnight interview with the cardinal.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_356" href="#FNanchor_356" class="label">[356]</a> “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 161.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_357" href="#FNanchor_357" class="label">[357]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 23.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_358" href="#FNanchor_358" class="label">[358]</a> Ibid., vol. ii. p. 291.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_359" href="#FNanchor_359" class="label">[359]</a> “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de +Boufflers,” p. 125.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_360" href="#FNanchor_360" class="label">[360]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., p. 157.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_361" href="#FNanchor_361" class="label">[361]</a> “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i. p. 126.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_362" href="#FNanchor_362" class="label">[362]</a> “Memorial for the Count de Cagliostro.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_363" href="#FNanchor_363" class="label">[363]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 139-142.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_364" href="#FNanchor_364" class="label">[364]</a> “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i p. 132. A +wit of the time observed, in allusion to the countess’s descent from an illegitimate +branch of the Valois, “that she ought not to have been marked +on the left shoulder, as it was on this side that she hung on to the Bourbons.”—See +“Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 52.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_365" href="#FNanchor_365" class="label">[365]</a> “Correspondance Inédite de la Comtesse de Sabran et du Chevalier de +Boufflers,” pp. 142-3.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_366" href="#FNanchor_366" class="label">[366]</a> “Anecdotes du règne de Louis XVI.” vol. i. p. 415, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_367" href="#FNanchor_367" class="label">[367]</a> “Mémoire Historique des Intrigues de la Cour,” etc., par Rétaux de +Villette, p. 69.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_368" href="#FNanchor_368" class="label">[368]</a> “Mémoires du Baron de Besenval,” vol. iii. p. 140.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_369" href="#FNanchor_369" class="label">[369]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 134.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_370" href="#FNanchor_370" class="label">[370]</a> Autograph letter from the officer of the marshalsea at Boulogne to the +Baron de Breteuil, in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_371" href="#FNanchor_371" class="label">[371]</a> See the Countess’s “Mémoires Justificatifs,” and “Mémoires Inédits +du Comte de la Motte.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_372" href="#FNanchor_372" class="label">[372]</a> Report dated September, 1785, in the archives of the French Police, +quoted by Louis Blanc in his “History of the French Revolution.” +Brussels, vol. ii. p. 129.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_373" href="#FNanchor_373" class="label">[373]</a> “Compte rendu de ce qui s’est passé au Parlement,” etc., pp. 65, 66.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_374" href="#FNanchor_374" class="label">[374]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” pp. 103, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_375" href="#FNanchor_375" class="label">[375]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 33.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_376" href="#FNanchor_376" class="label">[376]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 393-4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_377" href="#FNanchor_377" class="label">[377]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” pp. 152, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_378" href="#FNanchor_378" class="label">[378]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 143, <i>et seq.</i> +The Salpêtrière at the present day is a refuge for aged and infirm women, +and accommodates no less than 4369 inmates. Madame de la Motte’s cell +is one of the lions of the place shown to visitors.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_379" href="#FNanchor_379" class="label">[379]</a> “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i. p. 397.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_380" href="#FNanchor_380" class="label">[380]</a> <i>Morning Chronicle</i> newspaper, December 29, 1786.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_381" href="#FNanchor_381" class="label">[381]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 143-197. +We suspect the whole of this key business to be fudge.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_382" href="#FNanchor_382" class="label">[382]</a> “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +par M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 171.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_383" href="#FNanchor_383" class="label">[383]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 205, 212.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_384" href="#FNanchor_384" class="label">[384]</a> “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i. p. 420. +There are certain discrepancies with respect to the date of the duchess’s +visit. Mr. Storer, writing to the Hon. Mr. Eden, on May 11, 1787, says, +“the Polignacs have arrived; on Tuesday they went to the opera,” etc. In +contradiction to this we have a letter written by Marie-Antoinette, and +dated April 11, exactly a month previous, evidently addressed to the +duchess while she was in England, and inquiring whether she had found +any benefit from the Bath waters. It is possible that a wrong date has +been affixed to the last-mentioned letter subsequently to its having been +written, for Marie-Antoinette left most of her letters undated. See +“Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +vol. i.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_385" href="#FNanchor_385" class="label">[385]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 157.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_386" href="#FNanchor_386" class="label">[386]</a> It was commonly believed at the time, that the authorities not only +connived at the countess’s escape, but abetted it. It is said that at the +moment of her departure from the Salpêtrière, the superior jokingly said to +her, “Farewell, Madame, take great care you are not remarked” (meaning +also re-marked with the branding-iron).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_387" href="#FNanchor_387" class="label">[387]</a> Nogent-sur-Seine in the department of the Aube.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_388" href="#FNanchor_388" class="label">[388]</a> It will be noticed that the countess makes no mention of how she +obtained the necessary funds to undertake this journey.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_389" href="#FNanchor_389" class="label">[389]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. pp. 219-230.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_390" href="#FNanchor_390" class="label">[390]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol. i. p. 43.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_391" href="#FNanchor_391" class="label">[391]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 230, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_392" href="#FNanchor_392" class="label">[392]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 210.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_393" href="#FNanchor_393" class="label">[393]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 26.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_394" href="#FNanchor_394" class="label">[394]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself” (see title-page).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_395" href="#FNanchor_395" class="label">[395]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 155.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_396" href="#FNanchor_396" class="label">[396]</a> <a href="#Page_303">See <i>ante</i>, p. 303</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_397" href="#FNanchor_397" class="label">[397]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. pp. 157, 166.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_398" href="#FNanchor_398" class="label">[398]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 412.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_399" href="#FNanchor_399" class="label">[399]</a> See “Julie Philosophe, ou le Bon Patriote,” vol. ii. p. 17.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_400" href="#FNanchor_400" class="label">[400]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 237.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_401" href="#FNanchor_401" class="label">[401]</a> “Journals and Correspondence of Lord Auckland,” vol. i. p. 304.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_402" href="#FNanchor_402" class="label">[402]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” par L. Lacour.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_403" href="#FNanchor_403" class="label">[403]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. pp. +107-8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_404" href="#FNanchor_404" class="label">[404]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI. Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol. ii. p. 163.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_405" href="#FNanchor_405" class="label">[405]</a> “La Princesse de Lamballe: Sa Vie—Sa Mort,” p. 246.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_406" href="#FNanchor_406" class="label">[406]</a> “Mémoires relatifs à la Famille Royale de France,” vol. i. p. 315, +<i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_407" href="#FNanchor_407" class="label">[407]</a> Husband and wife here contradict each other point blank. The count +in his posthumous “Mémoires” maintains that the MS. was not surrendered +to Calonne; the countess says it was—in all probability another falsehood, +concocted by her, to induce the public to believe that the MS. had not +been already sold to the French court.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_408" href="#FNanchor_408" class="label">[408]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte-Valois,” Paris, 1858. This +work, edited by M. Louis Lacour, is stated by him to have been printed +from a duplicate copy of the manuscript Mémoires written by M. de la +Motte in 1825, at the instigation of the French minister of police. Everything +referring to the Necklace affair had been abstracted from these +manuscripts while they were in possession of the authorities. <a href="#Page_366">See +<i>post</i>, p. 366.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_409" href="#FNanchor_409" class="label">[409]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI., Marie-Antoinette,” +etc., vol ii. p. 481.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_410" href="#FNanchor_410" class="label">[410]</a> “Histoire de Marie-Antoinette,” par E. et J. de Goncourt, p. 293.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_411" href="#FNanchor_411" class="label">[411]</a> <a href="#Page_45">See <i>ante</i>, p. 45</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_412" href="#FNanchor_412" class="label">[412]</a> Autograph letter from Count de la Motte to Louis XVI., in the collection +of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_413" href="#FNanchor_413" class="label">[413]</a> See the judgment of the first tribunal, <a href="#Page_356"><i>post</i>, p. 356</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_414" href="#FNanchor_414" class="label">[414]</a> “Vie de Jeanne de St.-Remi de Valois, Comtesse de la Motte, écrite par +elle-même.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_415" href="#FNanchor_415" class="label">[415]</a> Extract from an autograph letter from Count de la Motte to Louis XVI., +in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_416" href="#FNanchor_416" class="label">[416]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” pp. 237-9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_417" href="#FNanchor_417" class="label">[417]</a> The work was really printed in London, and, with the exception of its +supplement, before the death of the countess in August, 1792.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_418" href="#FNanchor_418" class="label">[418]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 194, +<i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_419" href="#FNanchor_419" class="label">[419]</a> “Mémoires Secrets pour servir à l’Histoire de la dernière année du +règne de Louis XVI.,” par A. F. Bertrand de Moleville, vol. ii. p. 218, +<i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_420" href="#FNanchor_420" class="label">[420]</a> “Memoirs of Marie-Antoinette,” by Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 194.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_421" href="#FNanchor_421" class="label">[421]</a> “Procès de Marie-Antoinette,” p. 117.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_422" href="#FNanchor_422" class="label">[422]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol i. p. 221.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_423" href="#FNanchor_423" class="label">[423]</a> “Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 37.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_424" href="#FNanchor_424" class="label">[424]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” Supplement, vol. ii. p. +58. The Princess de Lamballe was in England in June 1791, and not improbably +set on foot the negotiations here referred to.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_425" href="#FNanchor_425" class="label">[425]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” par L. Lacour, p. 190, +<i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_426" href="#FNanchor_426" class="label">[426]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. Supplement, +p. 61.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_427" href="#FNanchor_427" class="label">[427]</a> “Gentleman’s Magazine,” vol. lxi. p. 783.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_428" href="#FNanchor_428" class="label">[428]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 442. “Mémoires +Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” p. 322.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_429" href="#FNanchor_429" class="label">[429]</a> Autograph letter from Madame de Bracque, Abbess of Jarcy, in the +collection of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_430" href="#FNanchor_430" class="label">[430]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. ii. p. 377.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_431" href="#FNanchor_431" class="label">[431]</a> “Mémoire Historique,” etc., par Rétaux de Villette, p. 3.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_432" href="#FNanchor_432" class="label">[432]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI.,” etc., vol. ii. p. 346.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_433" href="#FNanchor_433" class="label">[433]</a> “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +vol. i. p. 171.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_434" href="#FNanchor_434" class="label">[434]</a> “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” p. 23.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_435" href="#FNanchor_435" class="label">[435]</a> “Mémoires du Comte Beugnot,” vol, i. p. 6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_436" href="#FNanchor_436" class="label">[436]</a> <a href="#Page_363">See <i>post</i>, p. 363.</a></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_437" href="#FNanchor_437" class="label">[437]</a> Though it bears the imprint of Venice on the title-page, this “Mémoire” +was possibly a production of the unlicensed Paris press of the period.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_438" href="#FNanchor_438" class="label">[438]</a> So stated by Carlyle in the rhapsodical prophecy which he puts into +the mouth of Cagliostro, and which he subsequently says all turned out +“literally true.” See vol. iv. pp. 57, 60, of his Essays.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_439" href="#FNanchor_439" class="label">[439]</a> “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” par +M. Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 165.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_440" href="#FNanchor_440" class="label">[440]</a> “Mémoires sur les Prisons de Paris sous Robespierre,” vol. ii. p. 88.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_441" href="#FNanchor_441" class="label">[441]</a> Carlyle’s French Revolution, Leipzig, vol. iii. p. 341.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_442" href="#FNanchor_442" class="label">[442]</a> “Mémoires sur les Prisons de Paris,” etc., vol. ii. p. 78.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_443" href="#FNanchor_443" class="label">[443]</a> “Carlyle’s Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. p. 58.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_444" href="#FNanchor_444" class="label">[444]</a> Autograph letters of the Abbess of St. Bénoît to the Baron de Breteuil, +in the collection of M. Feuillet de Conches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_445" href="#FNanchor_445" class="label">[445]</a> “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” par E. Campardon, p. +156, <i>note</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_446" href="#FNanchor_446" class="label">[446]</a> “Correspondance Secrète Inédite sur Louis XVI.,” etc., vol. ii. p. 463.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_447" href="#FNanchor_447" class="label">[447]</a> Biographie Universelle; art. de Rohan.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_448" href="#FNanchor_448" class="label">[448]</a> Ibid., art. Cagliostro.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_449" href="#FNanchor_449" class="label">[449]</a> “Procès de la Reine” (Deux Amis), vol xi. pp. 251, 381.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_450" href="#FNanchor_450" class="label">[450]</a> “Villate, Causes Secrètes de la Révolution de Thermidor,” p. 179.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_451" href="#FNanchor_451" class="label">[451]</a> Weber’s “Mémoires concernant Marie-Antoinette,” vol. i. p. 6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_452" href="#FNanchor_452" class="label">[452]</a> “Deux Amis,” vol. xi. p. 301. Carlyle’s “French Revolution,” Leipzig, +vol. iii. pp. 244-7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_453" href="#FNanchor_453" class="label">[453]</a> “Maria-Theresia und Marie-Antoinette,” von A. Ritter von Arneth, +p. 107.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_454" href="#FNanchor_454" class="label">[454]</a> Carlyle’s “Critical and Miscellaneous Essays,” vol. iv. pp. 30, 31.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_455" href="#FNanchor_455" class="label">[455]</a> <i>Moniteur</i> for 1792, No. 220.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_456" href="#FNanchor_456" class="label">[456]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” pp. 254-282.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_457" href="#FNanchor_457" class="label">[457]</a> “Les Crimes de Marat et des autres égorgeurs, ou, ma Résurrection,” +par P. A. L. Maton de la Varenne, pp. 67-8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_458" href="#FNanchor_458" class="label">[458]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” pp. 286-302.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_459" href="#FNanchor_459" class="label">[459]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” pp. 303-362.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_460" href="#FNanchor_460" class="label">[460]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” p. 365.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_461" href="#FNanchor_461" class="label">[461]</a> “Mémoires Inédits du Comte de la Motte,” p. 375.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_462" href="#FNanchor_462" class="label">[462]</a> “Lettres et Documents Inédits de Louis XVI. et Marie-Antoinette,” +vol. i. p. 176.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_463" href="#FNanchor_463" class="label">[463]</a> “Journal de Paris,” Nov. 12, 1831.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_464" href="#FNanchor_464" class="label">[464]</a> “Marie-Antoinette et le Procès du Collier,” par E. Campardon, p. 200.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_465" href="#FNanchor_465" class="label">[465]</a> This refers to the year 1866.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_466" href="#FNanchor_466" class="label">[466]</a> <a href="#Page_64">See <i>ante</i>, p. 64</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_467" href="#FNanchor_467" class="label">[467]</a> <a href="#Page_61">See <i>ante</i>, p. 61</a> <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_468" href="#FNanchor_468" class="label">[468]</a> <a href="#Page_148">See <i>ante</i>, p. 148</a> for particulars of the stones which the Count brought +back with him to France.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_469" href="#FNanchor_469" class="label">[469]</a> <a href="#Page_150">See <i>ante</i>, p. 150</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_470" href="#FNanchor_470" class="label">[470]</a> Beugnot in his “Mémoires” furnishes us with a description of this +<i>bonbonnière</i>, to which, it will be remembered, both the Count and Countess +make allusion. (See <i>ante</i>, pp. <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223-4</a>.) It would appear, from what Beugnot +says, that it was never in the cardinal’s possession, though it had been +got up to play a part in the fraud which was being practised upon him. +Beugnot insinuates that had the officers of justice been more expeditious in +their movements, they would have found in Madame de la Motte’s jewel-box +this <i>bonbonnière</i>, which he tells us he had admired there a dozen times. +“It was,” remarks he, “a black tortoiseshell box, surrounded by large +diamonds, exactly alike, and of the finest water; the subject on the top of +the box was a rising sun which dispersed the mists on the horizon; you +touched a spring, and under this first subject was found a portrait of the +queen, clothed in a simple white robe (without any other ornament on her +head than her hair, raised up in the fashion of the period, and two earrings +falling on her neck one on either side), and holding a rose in her hand, +precisely in the same attitude and costume as the character played by +Mdlle. d’Oliva in the park of Versailles. They would, moreover, have +found in this box two of the cardinal’s letters, from which they would have +seen that the De la Mottes had made him hope for it, as a token of reconciliation +with the queen, and would have seen, too, that they had given +him all the details of this magnificent jewel.”—Mémoires du Comte Beugnot, +vol. i. p. 89.</p> + +<p>Beugnot is apparently wrong in supposing that this <i>bonbonnière</i> escaped +the vigilance of the officers of justice, as among the documents relating to +the “Affaire du Collier,” preserved in the National Archives (X² 2576), is a +memorandum without heading, date, or signature, which sets forth, that +“among the effects found at Bar-sur-Aube in the house of Madame de la +Motte, was a box with a portrait of the queen holding a rose,” which portrait, +it goes on to say, the Sieur Malus, treasurer of finance, pretended he +had orders to withdraw, but having been challenged by the Sieur Guichard, +the procureur-général’s substitute, to produce his orders, he could only +bring forward a letter addressed to him by the contrôleur-général; whereupon +the Sieur Guichard notifies that on the morrow he will render an +account of the above facts to the procureur-général, who there is every +reason to believe will bring them to the notice of his majesty’s keeper +of the seals and the Baron de Breteuil.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_471" href="#FNanchor_471" class="label">[471]</a> “Mémoires Justificatifs de la Comtesse de la Motte,” p. 39.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_472" href="#FNanchor_472" class="label">[472]</a> These references are to the present volume.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_473" href="#FNanchor_473" class="label">[473]</a> See his “Histoire de la Révolution Française,” vol. ii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_474" href="#FNanchor_474" class="label">[474]</a> “Life of the Countess de la Motte, by herself,” vol. i. p. 349.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_475" href="#FNanchor_475" class="label">[475]</a> No. X² 2576. See also the Appendix to Campardon’s “Marie-Antoinette +et le Procès du Collier,” pp. 271-389.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_476" href="#FNanchor_476" class="label">[476]</a> <a href="#Page_179">See <i>ante</i>, p. 179</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_477" href="#FNanchor_477" class="label">[477]</a> M. de Lescure in “La Princesse de Lamballe, Sa Vie—Sa Mort,” pp. +189-190.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_478" href="#FNanchor_478" class="label">[478]</a> The King.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_479" href="#FNanchor_479" class="label">[479]</a> It should be mentioned that with a single exception—a letter of Madame +de la Motte’s, which is given on <a href="#Page_187">page 187</a> <i>et seq.</i> of this work—none of the +documents herein referred to are now in existence. They are believed to +have been destroyed during the Revolution.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_480" href="#FNanchor_480" class="label">[480]</a> “Genealogical History of the House of France,” by Father Anselme, +vol. i. p. 136; “History of France,” by the President Henault, third +edition, in quarto, p. 315.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_481" href="#FNanchor_481" class="label">[481]</a> In accordance with French law this proceeding rendered him legitimate.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_482" href="#FNanchor_482" class="label">[482]</a> “Marie-Antoinette et le procès du Collier,” p. 109, <i>et seq.</i></p></div> + +</div> + +<p class="titlepage">THE END.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<p class="center"><i>In 2 vols., Square 8vo. 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GRENVILLE MURRAY.</span></p> + +<p class="center">ILLUSTRATED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.</p> + +<p class="center">CONTENTS.</p> + +<p class="center">I. Young Widows. +II. Noble Lords. +III. Flirts. +IV. On Her Britannic Majesty’s Service. +V. Semi-Detached Wives. +VI. Our Silvered Youth, or Noble Old Boys.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>VIZETELLY & CO., 10 Southampton Street, Strand.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p class="center">During APRIL 1881 will be published, No. 1 of</p> + +<p class="center larger"><i>THE SOCIAL ZOO</i>,<br> +<span class="smaller">SATIRICAL and HUMOROUS SKETCHES of +THE HUMAN CARNIVORA.</span></p> + +<p class="center">COPIOUSLY ILLUSTRATED IN MANY STYLES.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Social Zoo</span> will be written by George Augustus Sala, Sutherland +Edwards, Grenville Murray, F. C. 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Yet the latter are equally good with the former, which +indeed they commonly suggest. To test whether English novel readers, +unconversant with the French language, are not as appreciative of clever +works of fiction as English playgoers are of clever dramas and <i>operas bouffes</i>, +this series of Translations of some of the very best and newest French +Novels has been undertaken. It may be mentioned that especial care has +been bestowed on the selection, only those works of an unobjectionable +character, and which can be presented to the English reader in an unabridged +form, having been chosen.</p> + +<p>The following list of the earlier volumes of the series comprises several +works which have met with an immense sale in France, and have been +translated into most European languages:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<div class="hanging"> + +<p>FROMONT THE YOUNGER AND RISLER THE ELDER. By +<span class="smcap">A. Daudet</span>.</p> + +<p>SAMUEL BROHL AND PARTNER. By <span class="smcap">V. 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