CHAPTER IV. A SALON UNDER THE MONARCHY
Long after the events which heralded the great Revolution in France hadassumed proportions of ominous magnitude, after even great reverses tothe cause of monarchy, the nobles, whether from motives of hardihoodor from downright ignorance of the peril, continued to display in theirequipages, their mode of living, and their costly retinues, an amount ofsplendour terribly in contrast with the privations of the people.
Many of the old families deemed it a point of honour to abate nothing ofthe haughty pretensions they had exhibited for centuries; and treatingthe widespread discontent as a mere passing irritation, they scoffedat the fears of those who would regard it as of any moment. Indeed, totheir eyes, the only danger lay in the weak, submissive policy of thecourt--a line of action based on the gentle and tender qualities of theking's own nature, which made him prefer an injury to his own influence,to even the slightest attack on those who assailed him. Truthfullyor not, it is somewhat hard to say, a certain section of the noblesasserted that the Queen was very differently minded; that she not onlytook a just measure of the difficulty, but saw how it was to be met andcombated. Far from any paltering with the men of the movement, it wasalleged that she would at once have counselled force, and, throwing theweight of the royal cause upon the loyalty of the army, have risked theissue without a fear. Around Marie Antoinette were, therefore, groupedthose who took the highest ground in the cause of monarchy, and whoresisted almost the bare thought of what savoured of compromise orconcession.
Among those who were conspicuous for adherence to these opinions,was the Marquise de Bauffremont. To high rank, a large fortune, noinconsiderable share of court favour, she added a passion for everythinglike political intrigue. She was one of a school--of which somedisciples have been seen in our own day--who deem that there arequestions of statecraft too fine and too delicate for the rough handlingof men, and where the finer touch of woman is essentially needed. So faras matters of policy are moulded by the tempers of those who treatthem, and so far as it is of moment to appreciate finer traitsof character--to trace their origin, their leanings and theirsympathies--there is no doubt that the quicker and more subtle instinctsof a woman have an immense advantage over the less painstaking and lessminute habits of a manly mind. If the Marquise did not inaugurate thisschool, she gave a great development to its principles, and, assuredly,she practised her art at a period when its resources were to besubmitted to the severest of all tests. Her spacious 'hotel' in thePlace Louis Quinze was the centre of all those who assumed to bethe last bulwark of the monarchy, and there might be found theRochejaquelins, the Noailles, the Tavannes, the Valmys, and a host ofothers not less distinguished, while the ministers and envoys of variousforeign courts resorted to these salons as the most authentic source ofnews to be transmitted to their governments. Partly from predilection,partly from that policy which affected to despise popular dictation,these receptions were conducted with considerable display andostentation, and all that costly luxury and expense could impart lentits aid to give them an air of almost princely state. For a while therewas a pretence of treating the passing events as incidents too slightand too vulgar for notice, but after a time this affectation gave way toanother scarcely less absurd: of alluding to them in a tone of scoffand derision, ridiculing those who were their chief actors, and actuallymaking them subjects of witty pasquinade and caricature. As each newactor on the popular scene appeared, he was certain to be the mark oftheir insulting comments; and traits of low origin, and vulgarity ofmanner, were dwelt on with a significance that showed how contemptuouslythey regarded all whose condition was beneath their own. How littledid they suspect, as they mocked Rabaut St. Etienne, Petion, andRobespierre, that this 'ill-dressed and ill-mannered crew'--these 'noisyscreamers of vapid nonsense'--these 'men of sinister aspect and ignoblelook,' would one day become the scourge of their order, and the mastersof France! So far was this thought from all their speculation, thattheir indignation knew no bounds in discussing those who admitted this_canaille_ to anything like consideration; and thus the Bishop of Autunand Lafayette were the constant subjects of sarcasm and attack.
'What do they want, Madame la Marquise!' exclaimed the old Marquis deRibaupierre, as he stood, one evening, the centre of a group eagerlydiscussing the views and objects of these innovators. 'I ask, what dothey want? It cannot be the destruction of the _noblesse_, for they arenoble. It cannot be the extinction of property, for they are rich. Itcannot be--surely it cannot be--that they believe the monarchy would bemore faithfully guarded by a rabble than by the best chivalry of France.If Monseigneur Maurice Talleyrand were here now, I would simply askhim----'
The door opened as he uttered these words, and a servant, in a loudvoice, announced, 'Monseigneur the Bishop of Autun.'
Small of stature and lame, there was yet in the massive head, the broadfull brow, and the large orbits of the eyes, a certain command anddignity that marked him for no ordinary man; and, though the suddennessof his entrance at this moment had created a sensation, half painful,half ludicrous, there was a calm self-possession in his manner, as headvanced to kiss the hand of the Marquise, that quickly changed thefeeling for one of deference and respect.
'I was fortunate enough to be the subject of discussion as I came intothe room--will my esteemed friend the Marquis de Ribaupierre inform meto what I owe this honour?'
'Rather let me become the interpreter,' broke in the Marquise, who sawthe speechless misery that now covered the old Marquis's countenance.'Distressed at the length of time that had elapsed since we saw youamong us here--grieved at what we could not but imagine a desertion ofus--pained, above all, Monseigneur, by indications that you hadsought and found friends in other ranks than those of your own highstation----'
'A bishop, Madame la Marquise--forgive my interruption--a bishop onlyknows mankind as his brethren.' There was a malignant twinkle in his eyeas he spoke, that deprived the sentiment of all its charitable meaning.
'Fortune has been very unkind to you in certain members of your family,Monseigneur,' said the Count de Noailles tartly.
'Younger branches, somewhat ill-cared-for and neglected,' saidTalleyrand dryly.
'Nay, Monseigneur, your Christian charity goes too far and too fast,'said De Noailles. 'Our lackeys were never called our _freres cadets_before.'
'What a charming dress, Madame de Langeac!' said the bishop, touchinga fold of the rich silk with a veneration he might have bestowed on asacred relic.
'The favourite colour of the Queen, Monseigneur,' said she pointedly.
'Lilac is the emblem of hope; her Majesty is right to adopt it,' was thequick response.
'Is that like Monsieur de Mirabeau, Monseigneur?' said the Duc de Valmy,as he handed a coarse engraving to the bishop.
'There is a certain resemblance, unquestionably. It is about as likehim--as--as--what shall I say--as the general estimate of the man is tothe vast resources of his immense intelligence!'
'Immense intelligence!' exclaimed the Marquise de Bauf-fremont. 'I couldmore readily believe in his immense profligacy.'
'You might assent to both, Madame, and yet make no great mistake, saveonly that the one is passing away, the other coming,' said Talleyrandcourteously.
'Which is the rising, which the setting sun, Monseigneur?' said DeValmy.
'I sincerely trust it may not shock this distinguished company if I saythat it is the dawn of intellect, and the last night of incapacity,we are now witnessing. You have heard that this gentleman has seen theking?'
'Mirabeau been received by his Majesty!' 'Mirabeau admitted to thepresence!' exclaimed three or four, in tones of utter incredulity.
'I can be positive as to the fact,' resumed the bishop. 'I can be evenmore--I can tell this honourable company what passed at the interview.It was, then, last night--(thank you, Monsieur le Duc, I accept yourchair, since it allows me a more convenient spot to speak from)--it waslast night, at a late hour, that a messenger arrived at the Avenueaux Abois with an order
--I suppose it is etiquette I should call itorder--for Monsieur de Mirabeau to hasten to St. Cloud, where the kingdesired to confer with him.'
'I 'll never believe it!' cried the Marquis de Ribaupierre impetuously.
'If I had the happiness of being confessor to the Marquis, I wouldenjoin an extension of faith--particularly in the times we live in, saidTalleyrand, with a dry humour in his look. 'At all events, it is asI have the honour to acquaint you. Monsieur de Mirabeau received thismessage and obeyed it.'
'Par St. Louis, I can believe he obeyed it!' exclaimed the Duc de Valmy.
'And yet, Monsieur,' said the bishop, 'it was not till after verygrave reflection the Count de Mirabeau determined to accept that sameinvitation.'
'Ah, Monseigneur, you would presume upon our credulity,' broke in DeValmy.
'Far from it, Duc; I cherish every crumb of faith that falls from atable so scantily dressed; but once more I repeat, the Count de Mirabeauweighed well the perils on either side, and then decided on acceptingthose which attached to the court.'
'The perils which attached to the court!' cried the Marquis de Langeacscoflingly. 'Monseigneur doubtless alludes to all the seductivetemptations that would assail the cold, impassive temperament of hisfriend.'
'My friend! I accept the phrase, and wish it might be mutuallyacknowledged. My friend has little to boast of on the score ofimpassiveness, nor would the quality stand him in great stead just now.What the king wants he has got, however.'
'And pray what may that be, Monseigneur?'
'I will tell you, Monsieur: great promptitude, great eloquence, greatforesight, and, better than all these, great contempt for a pretentiousclass, whose vanity would lead them to believe that a wound tothemselves must be the death-blow to the monarchy. Now, sir, Monsieurde Mirabeau has these gifts, and by their influence he has persuaded theking to accept his services----'
'Oh, Monseigneur, if any one has dared to make you the subject of amystification!'
'I have been the subject of many, my dear Marquis, and may live tobe the subject of more,' said the bishop, with great suavity andgood-humour; 'but I see I must not presume upon my credit with thishonourable company.' Then, changing his tone quickly, he added: 'Canany one give me information about a young Garde du Corps calledFitzgerald--Gerald Fitzgerald?'
'I believe I am the only one he is known to,' said Madame deBauffremont.
'As, next to the honour of offering you my homage, Madame la Marquise,that was the reason of my coming here this evening, may I trespass uponyou to give me a few minutes alone?'
Madame de Bauffremont arose, and, taking the bishop's arm, retired intoa small room adjoining, and closed the door.
'Who is this Chevalier de Fitzgerald, Madame?' said he abruptly.
'I can give you very little insight into his history,' replied theMarquise; 'but dare I presume to ask how are you interested about him?'
'You shall hear, Madame la Marquise. About six or eight months back, theQueen's almoner, l'Abbe Jostinard, forwarded, of course by order of herMajesty, certain names of individuals in the royal household to Rome,imploring on their behalf the benediction of the Holy Father--avery laudable measure, not unfrequent in former reigns, but somehowlamentably fallen into disuse.' There was a strange, quaint expressionin his eye as he uttered these last words, which did not escape theattention of the Marquise. 'Among these,' resumed he, 'there wasincluded the Chevalier de Fitzgerald. Now, Madame, you are well awarethat His Holiness takes especial pains to know that the recipients ofthe holy favour are persons worthy, by their lives and habits, ofthis precious blessing: while, therefore, for each of the others sorecommended there were friends and relatives in abundance to vouch--theRochemards, the Guesclins, the Tresignes can always find sufficientbail--this poor Chevalier stood friendless and alone, none to answerfor, none to acknowledge him. Now, Madame, this might seem bad enough,but it was not all, for, not satisfied with excluding him from thesacred benediction, the consulta began speculating who and what he mightbe, whence he came, and so on. The most absurd conjectures, the wildestspeculations, grew out of these researches: some tracing him to this,others to that origin, but all agreeing that he belonged to thatmarvellous order whom people are pleased to call adventurers. In themidst of this controversy distinguished names became entangled, some onewould have said too high for the breath of scandal to attain--your own,Madame la Marquise----'
'Mine! how mine?' cried she eagerly.
'A romantic story of a sojourn in a remote villa in the Apennines--atale positively interesting of a youth rescued from brigands orBohemians, I forget which--pray assist me.'
'Continue, sir,' said the Marquise, whose compressed lips and sparklingeyes denoted the anger she could barely control.
'I am a most inadequate narrator, Madame--in fact, I am not sure that Ishould have lent much attention to this story at all if the Queen's nameand your own had not been interwoven with it.'
'And how the Queen's, sir _I_?' cried she haughtily.
'Ah, Madame la Marquise, ask yourself how, in this terrible time inwhich we live, the purest and the best are sullied by the stain of thatcalumny the world sows broadcast! Is it not a feature of our age thatnone can claim privilege nor immunity? Popular orators have no morefertile theme than when showing that station, rank, high duties, evenholy cares are all maintained by creatures of mere flesh and blood,inheritors of human frailties, heirs of mortal weakness. Cardinals havelived whose hearts have known ambition--empresses have felt even love.'
'Monseigneur, this is enough,' said the Marquise, rising, and darting athim a look of haughty indignation.
'Not altogether, Madame,' said he calmly, motioning her to be reseated.'To-morrow, or next day, this scandal--for it is a scandal--will be thetalk of Paris. Whence came this youth? who is he? how came he by histitle of Chevalier? will be asked in every salon, in every cafe, atevery corner. Madame de Bauffremont's name, and one even yet higher,will figure in these recitals. Some will suppose this, others suggestthat, and the world--the world, Madame la Marquise--will believe all!'
'My Lord Bishop,' she began, but passion so overwhelmed her that shecould not continue. Meanwhile he resumed--
'The vulgar herd, who know nothing, nor can know anything, of theemotions, noble and generous, that sway highborn natures, who must needsmeasure the highest in station by the paltry standards that apply totheir own class, will easily credit that even a Marquise may havebeen interested for a youth to whom, certainly, rumour attributesconsiderable merit. One word more, Madame; for as this youth, educated,some say by no less gifted a tutor than Jean Jacques Rousseau--otherspretend by the watchful care of Count Mirabeau himself----'
'Whence, have you derived this most ingenious tissue of falsehood,Monseigneur?' cried she passionately.
'Nay, Madame, I speak "from book" now. The Chevalier is intimately knownto Monsieur de Mirabeau--lived at one time in close companionship withhim--and is, indeed, deeply indebted to his kindness.'
'How glad I am, Monseigneur,' said she quickly, 'at length to undeceiveyou!'
A knock at the door here interrupted the Marquise. It was a servant witha letter from Versailles that demanded immediate attention.
'Here is more of it, Monseigneur,' cried she passionately. 'HerMajesty's ears have been outraged by these base calumnies, and I amsummoned to her presence in all haste.'
'I foresaw it, Madame,' said the Bishop, as he arose to withdraw. 'Iwish you a most pleasant journey, Madame la Marquise, and all that canrender the conclusion of it agreeable.
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