RETURN TO PARIS - Chapter VIII
Fresh Adventures--J. J. Rousseau--I set Up A Business--Castel--
Bajac--A Lawsuit is Commenced Against Me--M. de Sartine
Mdlle. X. C. V. had now been in the convent for a month, and her
affair had ceased to be a common topic of conversation. I thought I
should hear no more of it, but I was mistaken. I continued, however,
to amuse myself, and my pleasure in spending freely quite prevented
me from thinking about the future. The Abbe de Bernis, whom I went
to see regularly once a week, told me one day that the comptroller-
general often enquired how I was getting on. "You are wrong," said
the abbe, "to neglect him." He advised me to say no more about my
claims, but to communicate to him the means I had spoken of for
increasing the revenues of the state. I laid too great store by the
advice of the man who had made my fortune not to follow it. I went
to the comptroller, and trusting in his probity I explained my scheme
to him. This was to pass a law by which every estate, except that
left by father to son, should furnish the treasury with one year's
income; every deed of gift formally drawn up being subject to the
same provision. It seemed to me that the law could not give offence
to anyone; the heir had only to imagine that he had inherited a year
later than was actually the case. The minister was of the same
opinion as myself, told me that there would not be the slightest
difficulty involved, and assured me that my fortune was made. In a
week afterwards his place was taken by M. de Silhouette, and when I
called on the new minister he told me coldly that when my scheme
became law he would tell me. It became law two years afterwards, and
when, as the originator of the scheme, I attempted to get my just
reward, they laughed in my face.
Shortly after, the Pope died, and he was succeeded by the Venetian
Rezzonico, who created my patron, the Abby de Bernis, a cardinal.
However, he had to go into exile by order of the king two days after
his gracious majesty had presented him with the red cap: so good a
thing it is to be the friend of kings!
The disgrace of my delightful abbe left me without a patron, but I
had plenty of money, and so was enabled to bear this misfortune with
resignation.
For having undone all the work of Cardinal Richelieu, for having
changed the old enmity between France and Austria into friendship,
for delivering Italy from the horrors of war which befell her
whenever these countries had a bone to pick, although he was the
first cardinal made by a pope who had had plenty of opportunities for
discovering his character, merely because, on being asked, he had
given it as his opinion that the Prince de Soubise was not a fit
person to command the French armies, this great ecclesiastic was
driven into exile. The moment the Pompadour heard of this opinion of
his, she decreed his banishment--a sentence which was unpopular with
all classes of society; but they consoled themselves with epigrams,
and the new cardinal was soon forgotten. Such is the character of
the French people; it cares neither for its own misfortunes nor for
those of others, if only it can extract laughter from them.
In my time epigrammatists and poetasters who assailed ministers or
even the king's mistresses were sent to the Bastille, but the wits
still persisted in being amusing, and there were some who considered
a jest incomplete that was not followed by a prosecution. A man
whose name I have forgotten--a great lover of notoriety--appropriated
the following verses by the younger Crebellon and went to the
Bastille rather than disown them.
"All the world's upside down!
Jupiter has donned the gown--the King.
Venus mounts the council stair--the Pompadour.
Plutus trifles with the fair--M. de Boulogne.
Mercury in mail is drest--Marechal de Richelieu.
Mighty Mars has turned a priest--the Duc de Clermont, abbe of
St. Germain-des-pres."
Crebillon, who was not the sort of man to conceal his writings, told
the Duc de Choiseul that he had written some verses exactly like
these, but that it was possible the prisoner had been inspired with
precisely the same ideas. This jest was applauded, and the author of
"The Sofa" was let alone.
Cardinal de Bernis passed ten years in exile, 'procul negotiis', but
he was not happy, as he told me himself when I knew him in Rome
fifteen years afterwards. It is said that it is better to be a
minister than a king--an, opinion which seems ridiculous when it is
analyzed. The question is, which is the better, independence or its
contrary. The axiom may possibly be verified in a despotic
government under an absurd, weak, or careless king who serves as a
mere mask for his master the minister; but in all other cases it is
an absurdity.
Cardinal de Bernis was never recalled; there is no instance of Louis
XV. having ever recalled a minister whom he had disgraced; but on the
death of Rezzonico he had to go to Rome to be present at the
conclave, and there he remained as French ambassador.
About this time Madame d'Urfe conceived a wish to make the
acquaintance of J. J. Rousseau, and we went to call upon him at
Montmorenci, on the pretext of giving him music to copy--an
occupation in which he was very skilled. He was paid twice the sum
given to any other copyist, but he guaranteed that the work should be
faultlessly done. At that period of his life copying music was the
great writer's sole means of subsistence.
We found him to be a man of a simple and modest demeanour, who talked
well, but who was not otherwise distinguished either intellectually
or physically. We did not think him what would be called a good-
natured man, and as he was far from having the manners of good
society Madame d'Urfe did not hesitate to pronounce him vulgar. We
saw the woman with whom he lived, and of whom we had heard, but she
scarcely looked at us. On our way home we amused ourselves by
talking about Rousseau's eccentric habits.
I will here note down the visit of the Prince of Conti (father of the
gentleman who is now known as the Comte de la March) to Rousseau.
The prince--a good-natured man-went by himself to Montmorenci, on
purpose to spend a day in conversation with the philosopher, who was
even then famous. He found him in the park, accosted him, and said
that he had come to dine with him and to talk without restraint.
"Your highness will fare but badly," said Rousseau: "however, I will
tell them to lay another knife and fork."
The philosopher gave his instructions, and came out and rejoined the
prince, with whom he walked up and down for two or three hours. When
it was dinner-time he took the prince into his dining-room, where the
table was laid for three.
"Who is going to dine with us?" said the prince. "I thought we were
to be alone."
"The third party," said Rousseau, "is my other self--a being who is
neither my wife, nor my mistress, nor my servant-maid, nor my mother,
nor my daughter, but yet personates all these characters at once."
"I daresay, my dear fellow, I daresay; but as I came to dine with you
alone, I will not dine with your--other self, but will leave you with
all the rest of you to keep your company."
So saying the prince bade him farewell and went out. Rousseau did
not try to keep him.
About this time I witnessed the failure of a play called 'Aristides'
Daughter', written by the ingenious Madame de Graffini, who died of
vexation five days after her play was damned. The Abbe de Voisenon
was horrified, as he had advised the lady to produce it, and was
thought to have had some hand in its composition, as well as in that
of the 'Lettres Peruviennes' and 'Cenie'. By a curious coincidence,
just about the same date, Rezzonico's mother died of joy because her
son had become pope. Grief and joy kill many more women than men,
which proves that if women have mere feeling than men they have also
less strength.
When Madame d'Urfe thought that my adopted son was comfortably
settled in Viar's house, she made me go with her and pay him a visit.
I found him lodged like a prince, well dressed, made much of, and
almost looked up to. I was astonished, for this was more than I had
bargained for. Madame d'Urfe had given him masters of all sorts, and
a pretty little pony for him to learn riding on. He was styled M.
le Comte d'Aranda. A girl of sixteen, Viar's daughter, a fine-
looking young woman, was appointed to look after him, and she was
quite proud to call herself my lord's governess. She assured Madame
d'Urfe that she took special care of him; that as soon as he woke she
brought him his breakfast in bed; that she then dressed him, and did
not leave his side the whole day. Madame d'Urfe approved of
everything, told the girl to take even greater care of the count, and
promised that she should not go unrewarded. As for the young
gentleman, he was evidently quite happy, as he told me himself again
and again, but I suspected a mystery somewhere, and determined that I
would go and see him by myself another time and solve it.
On our journey home I told Madame d'Urfe how grateful I was for all
her goodness to the boy, and that I approved of all the arrangements
that had been made with the exception of the name Aranda, "which,"
said I, "may some day prove a thorn in his side." She answered that
the lad had said enough to convince her that he had a right to bear
that name. "I had," she said, "in my desk a seal with the arms of
the house of Aranda, and happening to take it up I shewed it him as
we shew trinkets to children to amuse them, but as soon as he saw it
he burst out,
"'How came you to have my arms?'
"Your arms!" I answered. "I got this seal from the Comte d'Aranda;
how can you prove that you are a scion of that race?"
"'Do not ask me, madam; my birth is a secret I can reveal to no
one.'"
The imposition and above all the impudence of the young knave
astounded me. I should not have thought him capable of it, and a
week after I went to see him by myself to get at the bottom of all
this mystery.
I found my young count with Viar, who, judging by the awe the child
shewed of me, must have thought he belonged to me. He was unsparing
in his praises of his pupil, saying that he played the flute
capitally, danced and fenced admirably, rode well, and wrote a good
hand. He shewed me the pens he had cut himself with three, five, and
even nine points, and begged to be examined on heraldry, which, as
the master observed, was so necessary a science for a young nobleman.
The young gentleman then commenced in the jargon of heraldry to
blazon his own pretended arms, and I felt much inclined to burst into
laughter, partly because I did not understand a word he said, and
partly because he seemed to think the matter as important as would a
country squire with his thirty-two quarters. However, I was
delighted to see his dexterity in penmanship, which was undoubtedly
very great, and I expressed my satisfaction to Viar, who soon left us
to ourselves. We proceeded into the garden.
"Will you kindly inform me," I said, "how you can be so foolish as to
call yourself the Comte d'Aranda?"
He replied, with the utmost calmness, "I know it is foolish, but
leave me my title; it is of service to me here and gains me respect."
"It is an imposition I cannot wink at, as it may be fraught with
serious results, and may do harm to both of us. I should not have
thought that at your age you would be capable of such a knavish
trick. I know you did it out of stupidity, but after a certain limit
stupidity becomes criminal; and I cannot see how I am to remedy your
fault without disgracing you in the eyes of Madame d'Urfe."
I kept on scolding him till he burst into tears, saying,
"I had rather the shame of being sent back to my mother than the
shame of confessing to Madame d'Urfe that I had imposed on her; and I
could not bear to stay here if I had to give up my name."
Seeing that I could do nothing with him, unless, indeed, I sent him
to some place far removed from Paris under his proper name, I told
him to take comfort as I would try and do the best I could for both
of us.
"And now tell me--and take care to tell the truth--what sort of
feelings does Viar's daughter entertain for you?"
"I think, papa, that this is a case in which the reserve commended by
yourself, as well as by mother, would be appropriate."
"Yes, that sort of answer tells me a good deal, but I think you are
rather too knowing for your age. And you may as well observe that
when you are called upon for a confession, reserve is out of place,
and it's a confession I require from you."
"Well, papa, Viar's daughter is very fond of me, and she shews her
love in all sorts of ways."
"And do you love her?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Is she much with you in the morning?"
"She is with me the whole day."
"She is present when you go to bed?"
"Yes, she helps me to undress."
"Nothing else?"
"I do not care to tell you."
I was astonished at the measured way in which he answered me, and as
I had heard enough to guess that the boy and girl were very good
friends indeed, I contented myself with warning him to take care of
his health, and with this I left him.
Some time after, my thoughts were occupied with a business
speculation which all my calculations assured me would be extremely
profitable. The plan was to produce on silks, by means of printing,
the exquisite designs which are produced at Lyons by the tedious
process of weaving, and thus to give customers excellent value at
much lower prices. I had the requisite knowledge of chemistry, and
enough capital to make the thing a success. I obtained the
assistance of a man with the necessary technical skill and knowledge,
intending to make him my manager.
I told my plan to the Prince de Conti, who encouraged me to
persevere, promising me his patronage, and all the privileges I could
wish for. That decided me to begin.
I rented a very large house near the Temple for a thousand crowns per
annum. The house contained a spacious hall, in which I meant to put
my workmen; another hall which was to be the shop; numerous rooms for
my workpeople to live in; and a nice room for myself in case I cared
to live on the premises.
I made the scheme into a company with thirty shares, of which I gave
five to my designer, keeping the remaining twenty-five to distribute
to those who were inclined to join the company. I gave one to a
doctor who, on giving surety, became the storekeeper, and came to
live in the house with his whole family; and I engaged four servants,
a waiting-maid, and a porter. I had to give another share to an
accountant, who furnished me with two clerks, who also took up their
abode in the house. The carpenters, blacksmiths, and painters worked
hard from morning to night, and in less than three weeks the place
was ready. I told the manager to engage twenty girls to paint, who
were to be paid every Saturday. I stocked the warehouse with three
hundred pieces of sarcenet and camlet of different shades and colours
to receive the designs, and I paid for everything in ready money.
I had made an approximate calculation with my manager that I should
have to spend three hundred thousand francs, and that would not break
me. If the worst happened I could fall back on my shares, which
produced a good income, but I hoped I should not be compelled to do
so, as I wanted to have an income of two hundred thousand francs a
year.
All the while I did not conceal from myself that the speculation
might be my ruin, if custom did not come in, but on looking at my
beautiful materials these fears were dispelled, especially as I heard
everybody saying that I sold them much too cheap.
To set up the business I spent in the course of a month about sixty
thousand francs, and my weekly expenses amounted to twelve hundred
francs.
As for Madame d'Urfe she laughed every time she saw me, for she was
quite certain that this business was only meant to put the curious
off the scent and to preserve my incognito: so persuaded was she of
my omnipotence.
The sight of twenty girls, all more or less pretty, the eldest of
whom was not twenty-five, far from making me tremble as it ought,
delighted me. I fancied myself in the midst of a seraglio, and I
amused myself by watching their meek and modest looks as they did
their work under the direction of the foreman. The best paid did not
get more than twenty-four sous a day, and all of them had excellent
reputations, for they had been selected at her own request by the
manager's wife, a devout woman of ripe age, whom I hoped to find
obliging if the fancy seized me to test her choice. Manon Baletti
did not share my satisfaction in them. She trembled to see me the
owner of a harem, well knowing that sooner or later the barque of my
virtue would run on the rocks. She scolded me well about these
girls, though I assured her that none of them slept in the house.
This business increased my own ideas of my importance; partly from
the thought that I was on the high road to fortune, and partly
because I furnished so many people with the means of subsistence.
Alas! I was too fortunate; and my evil genius soon crossed my career.
It was now three months since Mdlle. X. C. V. had gone into the
convent, and the time of her delivery drew near. We wrote to each
other twice a week, and I considered the matter happily settled; M.
de la Popeliniere had married, and when Mdlle. X. C. V. returned to
her mother there would be nothing more to be said But just at this
period, when my happiness seemed assured, the hidden fire leapt forth
and threatened to consume me; how, the reader will see.
One day after leaving Madame d'Urfe's I went to walk in the
Tuileries. I had taken a couple of turns in the chief walk when I
saw that an old woman, accompanied by a man dressed in black, was
looking at me closely and communicating her observations to her
companion. There was nothing very astonishing in this in a public
place, and I continued my walk, and on turning again saw the same
couple still watching me. In my turn I looked at them, and
remembered seeing the man in a gaming-house, where he was known by
the name of Castel-Bajac. On scrutinizing the features of the hag, I
at last succeeded in recollecting who she was; she was the woman to
whom I had taken Mdlle. X. C. V. I felt certain that she had
recognized me, but not troubling myself about the matter I left the
gardens to walk elsewhere. The day after next, just as I was going
to get into my carriage, a man of evil aspect gave me a paper and
asked me to read it. I opened it, but finding it covered with an
illegible scrawl I gave it him back, telling him to read it himself.
He did so, and I found myself summoned to appear before the
commissary of police to answer to the plea which the midwife (whose
name I forget) brought against me.
Although I could guess what the charge would be, and was certain that
the midwife could furnish no proofs of her accusation, I went to an
attorney I knew and told him to appear for me. I instructed him that
I did not know any midwife in Paris whatsoever. The attorney waited
on the commissary, and on the day after brought me a copy of the
pleas.
The midwife said that I came to her one night, accompanied by a young
lady about five months with child, and that, holding a pistol in one
hand and a packet of fifty Louis in the other, I made her promise to
procure abortion. We both of us (so she said) had masks on, thus.
shewing that we had been at the opera ball. Fear, said she, had
prevented her from flatly refusing to grant my request; but she had
enough presence of mind to say that the necessary drugs were not
ready, that she would have all in order by the next night; whereupon
we left, promising to return. In the belief that we would not fail
to keep the appointment, she went in to M. Castel-Bajac to ask him to
hide in the next room that she might be protected from my fury, and
that he might be a witness of what I said, but she had not seen me
again. She added that she would have given information the day after
the event if she had known who I was, but since M. Castel-Bajac had
told her my name on her recognizing me in the Tuileries, she had
thought it her bounden duty to deliver me to the law that she might
be compensated for the violence I had used to her. And this document
was signed by the said Castel-Bajac as a witness.
"This is an evident case of libel," said my attorney, "at least, if
she can't prove the truth of her allegations. My advice to you is to
take the matter before the criminal lieutenant, who will be able to
give you the satisfaction you require."
I authorized him to do what he thought advisable, and three or four
days after he told me that the lieutenant wished to speak to me in
private, and would expect me the same day at three o'clock in the
afternoon.
As will be expected, I was punctual to the appointment. I found the
magistrate to be a polite and good-hearted gentleman. He was, in
fact, the well-known M. de Sartine, who was the chief of police two
years later. His office of criminal lieutenant was saleable, and M.
de Sartine sold it when he was appointed head of the police.
As soon as I had made my bow, he asked me to sit down by him, and
addressed me as follows:
"I have asked you to call upon me in the interests of both of us, as
in your position our interests are inseparable. If you are innocent
of the charge which has been brought against you, you are quite right
to appeal to me; but before proceedings begin, you should tell me the
whole truth. I am ready to forget my position as judge, and to give
you my help, but you must see yourself that to prove the other side
guilty of slander, you must prove yourself innocent. What I want
from you is an informal and strictly confidential declaration, for
the case against you is a serious one, and of such a kind as to
require all your efforts to wipe off this blot upon your honour.
Your enemies will not respect your delicacy of feeling. They will
press you so hard that you will either be obliged to submit to a
shameful sentence, or to wound your feelings of honour in proving
your innocence. You see I am confiding in you, for in certain cases
honour seems so precious a thing to me that I am ready to defend it
with all the power of the law. Pay me back, then, in the same coin,
trust in me entirely, tell me the whole story without any reserves,
and you may rely upon my good offices. All will be well if you are
innocent, for I shall not be the less a judge because I am your
friend; but if you are guilty I am sorry for you, for I warn you that
I shall be just."
After doing my best to express my gratitude to him, I said that my
position did not oblige me to make any reservations on account of
honour, and that I had, consequently, no informal statement to make
him.
"The midwife," I added, "is absolutely unknown to me. She is most
likely an abandoned woman, who with her worthy companion wants to
cheat me of my money."
"I should be delighted to think so," he answered, "but admitting the
fact, see how chance favours her, and makes it a most difficult thing
for you to prove your innocence.
"The young lady disappeared three months ago. She was known to be
your intimate friend, you called upon her at all hours; you spent a
considerable time with her the day before she disappeared, and no one
knows what has become of her; but everyone's suspicions point at you,
and paid spies are continually dogging your steps. The midwife sent
me a requisition yesterday by her counsel, Vauversin. She says that
the pregnant lady you brought to her house is the same whom Madame X.
C. V. is searching for. She also says that you both wore black
dominoes, and the police have ascertained that you were both at the
ball in black dominoes on the same night as that on which the midwife
says you came to her house; you are also known to have left the ball-
room together. All this, it is true, does not constitute full proof
of your guilt, but it makes one tremble for your innocence."
"What cause have I to tremble?"
"What cause! Why a false witness, easily enough hired for a little
money, might swear with impunity that he saw you come from the opera
together; and a coachman in the same way might swear he had taken you
to the midwife's. In that case I should be compelled to order your
arrest and examination, with a view to ascertain the name of the
person whom you took with you. Do you realize that you are accused
of procuring abortion; that three months have gone by without the
lady's retreat having been discovered; that she is said to be dead.
Do you realize, in short, what a very serious charge murder is?"
"Certainly; but if I die innocent, you will have condemned me
wrongly, and will be more to be pitied than I."
"Yes, yes, but that wouldn't make your case any better. You may be
sure, however, that I will not condemn an innocent man; but I am
afraid that you will be a long time in prison before you succeed in
proving your innocence. To be brief, you see that in twenty-four
hours the case looks very bad, and in the course of a week it might
look very much worse. My interest was aroused in your favour by the
evident absurdity of the accusations, but it is the other
circumstances about the case which make it a serious one for you. I
can partly understand the circumstances, and the feelings of love and
honour which bid you be silent. I have spoken to you, and I hope you
will have no reserves with me. I will spare you all the unpleasant
circumstances which threaten you, believing, as I do, that you are
innocent. Tell me all, and be sure that the lady's honour will not
suffer; but if, on the other hand, you are unfortunately guilty of
the crimes laid to your charge, I advise you to be prudent, and to
take steps which it is not my business to suggest. I warn you that
in three or four days I shall cite you to the bar of the court, and
that you will then find in me only the judge--just, certainly, but
severe and impartial."
I was petrified; for these words shewed me my danger in all its
nakedness. I saw how I should esteem this worthy man's good offices,
and said to him in quite another tone, that innocent as I was, I saw
that my best course was to throw myself on his kindness respecting
Mdlle. X. C. V., who had committed no crime, but would lose her
reputation by this unhappy business.
"I know where she is," I added, "and I may tell you that she would
never have left her mother if she had not endeavoured to force her
into a marriage she abhorred"
"Well, but the man is now married; let her return to her mother's
house, and you will be safe, unless the midwife persists in
maintaining that you incited her to procure abortion."
"There is no abortion in the matter; but other reasons prevent her
returning to her family. I can tell you no more without obtaining
the consent of another party. If I succeed in doing so I shall be
able to throw the desired light on the question. Be kind enough to
give me a second hearing on the day after to-morrow."
"I understand. I shall be delighted to hear what you have to say.
I thank and congratulate you. Farewell!"
I was on the brink of the precipice, but I was determined to leave
the kingdom rather than betray the honour of my poor dear sweetheart.
If it had been possible, I would gladly have put an end to the case
with money; but it was too late. I was sure that Farsetti had the
chief hand in all this trouble, that he was continually on my track,
and that he paid the spies mentioned by M. de Sartine. He it was who
had set Vauversin, the barrister, after me, and I had no doubt that
he would do all in his power to ruin me.
I felt that my only course was to tell the whole story to M. de
Sartine, but to do that I required Madame du Rumain's permission.
