Chapter IV: Part 4
The affairs of the closet did not interrupt the court entertainments: the King hunted as usual, came to the plays, and every day supped with me in the little apartments. A tender and affectionate friendship now closely united us; desire was superseded by a calm inclination; the friend had succeeded the mistress; our hearts glowed with all the complacency arising from passions, without any of the disagreeable circumstances accompanying them. Several women had inspired Lewis XV. with love, but not one had he met with of a turn to make him feel the delights of friendship, which a generous soul will always prefer. The former is a commerce of pleasures, the gratification of which is almost ever followed by disgust: the second is a mild settled delight, resident in the mind, and if it does not minister any relish to the senses, is more lasting, lively, and refined. The King himself, at this time, assured me, that had he at first felt the delights of friendship, he should never have given himself up to those of love. All passion was now subsided in him; for this name is not to be given to those desultory gallantries, when the constitution only prompts to pleasure, without any concurrence of the heart.
This excellent Prince often said to me, that he was happy in having a real friend, to whom he could communicate his satisfactions and his troubles, for kings have theirs like other men; one of his greatest was the distresses of the people, and the impossibility of relieving them so speedily as he could have wished. He laid open to me the whole state of his mind, without any reserved secrets; all his heart was as well known to me as my own: it was an uneasiness for us to part, and we always met again with redoubled pleasure.
The King, as I said in the beginning of these Memoirs, had, soon after my first appearance at court, made me Marchioness de Pompadour; and, that I might remain there with the greater decency, created me _a Lady of the palace_. This new place should have convinced all Europe, that there was no other commerce between his Majesty and me than what arose from esteem and friendship. But ill-nature pursues its point, regardless of all probabilities; and the state-malcontents picked out this passage of my life to mangle my reputation, &c.
To return to politics: business went on at Versailles with great dispatch, that the King might the sooner have the satisfaction he so passionately desired, of diminishing the imposts, and making his people enjoy the benefits of peace.
The marine was the principal point in view: M. Rouillé had hastily got together a little fleet, which, putting to sea, gave no small umbrage to the English. The British nation, with all its natural composure, is all in flames at the bare mention of a French navy: concerning this, I remember a jest at that time, _that the Britons could not close their eyes since France had an eye to its maritime concerns; and that were we to build a hundred ships of the line, not a soul in England would have any sleep_.
This navy, however, was but a-beginning, and far short of what was intended. Yet could England ask France, “what was the destination of these ships?” M. de Puisieux gave my Lord Albemarle for answer, “that the King of France was not accountable to any power in Europe; that France was at peace with Great Britain; and that, consequently, the latter had nothing to apprehend from those ships.”
The court of St. James’s seemed satisfied; yet more closely watched our measures.
The government’s attention was for some time taken up with books; the French, than whom perhaps no people in Europe are more restrained in their speeches, sillily affect to be the first in their thoughts. They print their notions on what comes uppermost, and the government is ever the first thing to fall under their pen. It is said that this licentiousness is owing to the above restraint; and I have heard that were not so many authors sent to the Bastile, Paris would not swarm with them as it does.
Very few of these seditious writings will bear reading, some of them are not so much as worth a _lettre de cachet_. To make the authors of mere trash the King’s pensioners, is doing them too much honour.
Though the assembly of the clergy granted every thing required, it did not give every thing. On which the court sent a remonstrance to that body, which it answered with another remonstrance; but herein it so little observed the bounds of moderation, that the King dissolved the assembly, and confined the bishops to their dioceses. The next day a courtier said in the King’s anti-chamber, “that they ought to be sent out of the kingdom, and priests put in their places:” this act of prerogative so humbled the prelates, that they offered to comply with all his Majesty’s pleasure.
A nobleman said to the King, _Sir, if your Majesty will be no more troubled with the clergy’s remonstrances, a sure way will be, to forbid the bishops coming to Paris; they will assent to the free gifts, or to any terms, only allow them to live there_.
However, this affair of the bishops disturbed the King; and one day he said to me, with some emotion, _They are perpetually vexing me. No sooner have I raised a poor ecclesiastic to a dignity of a hundred thousand livres a year, than he sets up for a leading man among the clergy, and votes against the free gift. Sir_, said I to him, _methinks there is a way of satisfying all. The crown should, on the death of the present possessor, appropriate to itself half of the revenue of the larger benefices. This would be no tax on any one. There is not a subject in France, designed for the church, who would not think himself under the highest obligations to your Majesty, in conferring on him an abbey, or a bishopric, with a revenue less, by half, than what the present possessor makes of it. I take upon me to bring about the composition; I make no doubt but that I shall find, in the kingdom, two hundred ecclesiastics, who will gladly set their hands to such an agreement._
_This diminution cannot be accounted unjust, your Majesty having the nomination to all the large benefices in the kingdom; and the giver is always master of his gifts. No complaint lies against a Prince, who, instead of a hundred and twenty thousand livres a year, which he can bestow on one of his subjects, gives him sixty thousand, &c. &c._
These few words, spoken only cursorily, were, a few days after, followed by an express memorial addressed to the Count de St. Florentine, and which he presented to the King.
MEMORIAL
On the inequality of the taxes raised on
the Clergy.
“It is a received maxim in economics, that a geometrical equality in the levying of taxes lessens the weight of them. A burden borne by all the members of a body is always light.
“The uneasiness of the clergy concerning the free-gift, and other impositions, towards answering the necessities of the state, proceeds not so much from the impositions, as from the assessments. The dignitaries, who should pay the most, always pay the least, considering their incomes. The whole load falls on the poor parish priests, and other country incumbents, who have scarce a subsistence, and are more burthened as clergymen than as subjects.
“That the assembly of the bishops tax themselves, and the whole ecclesiastical body, is not a privilege belonging to the clergy, but a mere indulgence of the Kings of France, granted then with a proviso, that the assessments should be equitable, and that the inferior priests, who are the King’s subjects no less than the greater ecclesiastics, should not be overcharged.
“The tax is rated by the income, which is an iniquitous assessment: a priest with only a hundred crowns a year, paying a crown, in effect, is rated much higher than a bishop, who, with a hundred thousand livres a year, pays a thousand: a yearly income of ninety-nine thousand livres being ever more or less superfluous; whereas he who has only a hundred crowns, by being deprived of one, must feel it in the very necessaries of life.
“The inferior clergy are the King’s subjects equally with the higher. To allow the bishops to tax priests, because they are subordinate to them, is a manifest error in government, the spiritual power having no claims in temporals. The imposition and assessments of taxes appertains to the crown, the mitre has nothing to do in it.
“The whole body of the clergy should be taxed once for all, like the body of the laity: what tax the clergy can pay may be easily known; it is only taking an account of the several sums which the clergy has paid for these last twenty years; the twentieth part of the amount will be a fair yearly tax, as in twenty years an exact calculation may be made of the periodical wants of the state. In this interval, all the revolutions may be reduced to a general sum.
“It may be left to the clergy’s choice to pay the tax, without holding an assembly: this might be done by a tarif on the large and small dignities and benefices, or the tax might be levied by the King’s officers, as on the other subjects of the state.
“The latter most comports with the dignity of the crown, and will likewise be more advantageous. As the church is daily making acquisitions, and its general opulence is continually increasing by donations, the clergy’s payments should be raised in proportion to their aggrandizement.
“This rise of the clergy’s tax would be no more than what takes place in the common imposts. Artificers and tradespeople pay more in proportion to their thriving, though this be by their own labour and industry.”
The American affairs, of which not a word had been heard since the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, now began to employ the court’s attention. The English complained, by their ambassador, my Lord Albemarle, that the French countenanced the Indians in their practices, and, underhand instigated them to molest their settlement in Nova Scotia. M. de Puisieux told the British minister, that the people at London were mistaken; “The court of France, said he, knows nothing of this supposed instigation; and, very probably, it exists only in the suspicious minds of the English.”
However, the first sparks of that fire, which was to kindle the war a fresh, already began to appear. Advice came from Canada, that the Indians were in motion; and though the cabinet of Versailles did not give direct orders to the French to oppose any such motion, neither did it tell them not to do so. This silence left the commanders to guess how they were to act; accordingly, they did not declare openly, but let second causes take their course.
A minister of a foreign court, formerly allied with France, and who, at that time, was frequently with M. de Puisieux, put into his hands a memorial on this head, which the King never saw, and it was not till long after that I read it.
“France, said that piece, is not yet in a condition to go to war again: things should be left to remain as they are, till she is able to cope with England; otherwise every thing will be ruined. The war by sea will give the turn to that by land: Great Britain will chuse this juncture for inducing the King of Prussia to declare against France, which thus will have two weighty wars on its hands, and only for a continent of no great importance, and which, at last, it will certainly lose, for the events of this war may be easily foreseen.
“The English navy is much superior to that of France; and the King of Prussia has two hundred thousand well disciplined men, ready, at the first order, to march, and make a powerful diversion in Germany; and, with the addition of those in England, will unquestionably turn the scale in the north. France is very well as it is, and should aim at nothing beyond keeping itself so, till a favourable opportunity shall enable it to do better.
“Nothing in America calls for haste; you will always have time enough to make good your claims there: the Savages are your friends; they cannot endure the English. At present interfere no farther than fomenting this variance without promoting it; the time will come when you may make your own use of it: precipitancy spoils the most promising affairs; whereas time and patience bring every thing to bear.
“Don’t imagine that your intrigues with the Americans blind Europe; the most clandestine practices of courts are always detected. Already, you are made accountable for the proceedings of the Canadians, though you appear not to concern yourselves about them. It is known to all Europe, that the North American savages act without any continued design, when not spirited up and directed. Every body knows those automata have no will of their own, saying and doing only just as they are bid to do.
“Your navy is but in its infancy, scarce begun to be formed, so that a war only of two years would totally destroy it. Before engaging in a war, there is a sure way of knowing whether it should be undertaken, which is to weigh the advantages of the conquests with the disadvantages of the defeats.
“Should you beat the English at sea, which is a circumstance out of all probability, you will retain North America, which you already have; if beaten, and here the likelihood lies, you will lose America, and perhaps all your other colonies, for one conquest ever leads to another.
“The English, though beginning the war only on account of Canada, will avail themselves of their first victory to enlarge their views: and the court of St. James’s may afterwards strike out such a scheme of destruction to France, as perhaps, at present, it does not think of.
“A great disadvantage to France, is its having no ally who can help it to recover its losses against the English: the Spanish navy is in no better condition than that of France; and the Dutch rejoice in a war between the maritime powers, were it only for the vast advantages accruing to them from their neutrality. A continental power may retrieve the loss of a battle by a subsequent victory; a more experienced general, better disciplined troops, or more favourable circumstances, will give a turn to a land-war; but the maritime concerns of France are so situated, that a colony taken from it is lost for ever; its ships, the only means of bringing it again into the path of victory, being destroyed.”
This memorial, however approved by some politicians to whom I have since shewed it, had not the effect which might have been expected; another, afterwards presented to the same Minister, set the same object in a very different light.
It is said that the members of the English parliament being generally of contrary opinions, long debates are very frequent in that assembly; and that these debates produce lights, from which the hearers receive great improvement, and become better qualified to serve their country. It is otherwise in France: here the contrariety of opinions only bewilders the understanding, and increases the confusion.
“The Canada affair, said the last writer, too nearly concerns the French monarchy, to be left as it is. Every minute we lose diminishes our power, and augments that of our enemies. The war ought to have been continued, had not second causes forced the government into a peace; but those causes no longer subsisting, we should take up arms again.
“The English will never keep within the limits assigned by the commissaries. They will, by skirmishes and secret practices, be ever endeavouring to come beyond those barriers: they must be prevented in time, their schemes must be destroyed at their very first appearance, otherwise it will be too late.
“The loss of Canada would be an inconceivable detriment to France. It is that to which England owes its being mistress of the sea, opening to it numberless branches of commerce, which it would never have known without being possessed of this continent.
“Though we have no great navy, yet have we shipping enough; a sea quarrel is not the point, but a land war. It is enough for us to send over some troops to Canada; the American affairs have no connection with those of our country. Should any disturbances happen in Germany, they will spring from a quite different cause; and if the King of Prussia declares against France, it will be for some particular views of his own, quite foreign to our colonies; he would declare himself, if we had no dispute with the Britons about Canada.
“It is not the first time of our having several wars on our hands, or, rather, it is impossible that we should have but one at a time.
“Our concerns are so closely linked with the other powers of Europe, that on our arming, five or six princes cannot avoid declaring.
“The situation of affairs in Canada lays us under a necessity of renewing the war: we cannot continue in the state we now are in; the capital effort of our politics should be to recover the advantage which we lost by means of the English.
“Amidst all the magnified superiority of the British navy, its successes are not so certain as supposed. Advantages in war depend on a great number of unforeseen events. It is often observed, that the certain expectation of a victory has suddenly turned into the disappointment of a defeat.
“England has not had time, since the peace, to increase its marine; its naval force is, at this day, just as it was at the end of the war. Before the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, we could defend ourselves at sea, and still can: but if we defer any longer, the time will be over; for the British navy now is encreasing every day. Our’s will be so much inferior, as not to dare to shew its face before them; and then we shall be obliged to relinquish North America.
“Let us, without delay, begin the war again, and then we shall drive the English out of Canada; whereas, by continuing the peace, they will dispossess us. This is no time for parlying; we must either give up that part of America to England, or prepare to dispute it.
“The savage nations are our allies, they mortally hate the English; and shall we delay availing ourselves of such a favourable disposition? A people without any fixed laws, is naturally given to change. The Canadians love war, and despise such nations as live in peace: twenty years inactivity would give them an ill opinion of the French; whereas, seeing us at war with a nation whom they hate, they will esteem us, and come into a closer alliance with us than before, &c.”
These memorials made no alteration in the general system; both sides continued to dissemble, and express a desire of cultivating the peace. England applied itself to increase its navy, and France sent orders to Brest and Rochfort, for building ships with the utmost dispatch.
Amidst the most earnest concern to redress the calamities of the state, no expedients could be found for so great and good an end. The people could not be relieved but by abolishing the taxes; and the expences of the state could not be answered but by new imposts: every branch of the government was embarrassed; so that the King often said to me, with a painful sense of such a situation, _I know not where to begin_.
The advantages of the encouragement of tillage, the improvement of arts, the increase of trade, the discharge of the national debt, were only in perspective; whereas the people stood in need of present relief. Observing that the public affairs greatly affected the King’s temper and constitution, I contrasted them with diversions. I may say, the most gay and striking conceits of imagination, for pleasing the senses, were now exhibited at Versailles. In all the entertainments which I gave to the Monarch, there was little of my own; I had people of taste at Paris who furnished me with original materials, to which I only gave a few retouches.
Amidst all my inventions to draw the court from that mournful state which the perplexity of affairs shed on it, I perceived that the King was not so chearful as I could have desired. He had a cloudiness in his looks, which were naturally sprightly; he was, likewise, more thoughtful than usual. Alarmed at this lugubrious scene, I took the liberty to ask his Majesty the cause of so unhappy an alteration. He vaguely answered, “that he was not sensible of any alteration, and that my company still was his chief delight:” the revolution, however, was but too certain.
My enemies having miscarried in their design of inducing the King to remove me from court, by political motives, set religion to work; and no less a person than his Majesty’s confessor was put at the head of this cabal. He was a Jesuit with only morality for his instrument; but as that, with a Prince, seldom gets the better of pleasure, he contrived a way which struck my Monarch.
This reverend father employed one of the best hands in Paris, in a picture representing the torments of hell. Several crowned heads seemed chained down in dreadful sufferings; there was no beholding their contortions without shuddering. This infernal master-piece he made a present of to Lewis XV. The King having viewed it for some time with a frown, asked the meaning of the picture, the very thing the son of Loyola wanted.
“Sire, said he, the Prince you see there suffering eternal torments, was an ambitious Monarch, who sacrificed his people to his vain delight in glory and power. He next to him, whom the devils are insulting, was an avaricious monarch, who laid up in his coffers immense treasures, squeezed from his oppressed subjects. This third wretch was an indolent sovereign, who minded nothing, and instead of governing by himself, left every thing to his ministers, whose incapacity produced infinite mischiefs. This fourth, whose sufferings exceed those of the others, his crime being greater, was a voluptuous King, openly keeping a concubine at his court; and by this scandalous example had filled his kingdom with debauchery, &c.”
The allegory was coarse, and becoming a monk, who, in the want of the means to attain his ends in this world, has recourse to things of the other life. Lewis XV. who saw into the drift of the picture, ordered the moralist to withdraw, but the impression remained.
This was not the first time that the churchmen had presumed on their office, and abused the King’s goodness. A prelate had made him perform an ignominious act of penitence when sick at Metz.
I used fresh endeavours to relieve the King from this return of languor, and had in a great measure succeeded, when a family concern brought on a severe relapse.
The Dauphin was now in his twenty-second year, which, by the custom of France, intitled him to be intrusted with the affairs of the crown. This Prince had always shewn the most submissive deference to the King his father, but of late had put himself at the head of a party, most of whom were my enemies: they exposed me with all the venom of scurrility, and even brought in the King. Lewis XV. knew it, and this was what occasioned that inward conflict which gave him so much trouble. After communicating his situation to me, he said, _And what would you do, Madam, in such a case?_ “Sire, answered I, I would admit his Royal Highness the Dauphin into every council, and allow him all the honours due to his rank and birth.” _Well_, said the King, _I will follow your advice_; and soon after the Dauphin saw himself sent for on every important deliberation.
M. de Machault, then at the head of the finances, left no stone unturned to put them in a good condition: he was urged on every side. M. Rouillé asked very large sums to form a navy; the payers of annuities were perpetually at his elbow, and his apartment was never clear of those who had advanced money in the late war. He one day said to the King, in my hearing, _Sire, I know not how in the world, I shall answer your engagements; every body is making demands on me, and no body will give me any credit_.
Marshal Belleisle, to whom that laborious minister often used to pour forth his lamentations, told him, “Sir, I see but one way for you, which is to make the state a bankrupt. When a machine is out of order, the only remedy is to stop its motion, and to set it to rights again.”
This advice, however, was not followed; and instead of stopping the machine of the finances, in order to set it to rights again, it remained in all its former disorder. I have somewhere, among my papers, a scheme for discharging the national debt, in which the author, who was accounted a very skilful economist, advanced, that, for the settlement of an invariable order in the finances, the state, every twenty-five years, should declare itself insolvent; and the creditors compound with the King, as with a private insolvent.
“France, said this paper, will not hear of making itself a bankrupt, but the way it takes to avoid it, is still more burthensome; for when the King’s debts grow troublesome, does he not lay very onerous imposts on the people for the payment of them? Now this is a remedy worse than the disease, because the collecting of a tax, it is known, falls little short of doubling it. He extorts from one to pay another; a bankruptcy would ruin only a part of his subjects, whereas the means of payment impoverishes every body.”
I am not sufficiently acquainted with finances, to determine whether a wise King, in order to make his people easy, should begin by forfeiting the confidence of the wealthy part of his subjects. There are always some exceptionable things in these kinds of memorials. A person of a great genius has often told me, “that should all the fine projects, for making France the most opulent state in Europe, be carried into execution, it would perhaps make it the very poorest in the universe.”
The particular favour with which Lewis XV. continued to honour me, drew great numbers to my apartment, so that I had every morning a full court: some persons of eminence appeared there purely to please the King; but the business of the multitude was interest. I had brought the latter to give me memorials, as otherwise, I could never have recollected so many different objects. It is impossible for those who live at a distance from court, to conceive the various classes of askers, and what a number of favours the throne has the pleasure of bestowing.
I have read, in an original paper, that Lewis XIV. allowed all his subjects, who had any demand to make at court, to apply directly to himself. Had such an indulgence been continued under the present reign, Lewis XV’s whole life would have been taken up only in giving audiences. These memorials I had read to me, and afterwards talked them over to the King.
Besides those who asked favours, I was likewise teazed with complainers, and indeed these were usually more in number than the others.
In so large a kingdom as France, it is scarce possible to prevent all abuses; some necessarily arise from the very constitution, and the maintenance of political order. But one complaint so particularly struck me, that I thought it deserved to be laid before the King. This was the disregard of the children of officers dying in the service of their country.
A general officer, if no gentleman by birth, though, by his courage, he had secured the privileges both of the throne and nobility, leaving issue, they were excluded from nobility; and soon coming to intermix with the commonalty, no trace remained of the families which had performed the greatest services to the state: a hero’s atchievements died with him, his posterity were never the better for his exploits. This I mentioned to the King with a sensible concern, and some time after his Majesty, ever inclined to what was good and proper, issued an edict, ennobling military officers and their posterity. The different degrees of this nobility were specified in the edict, according to the different ranks of the officers.
No body in the kingdom apprehended that I had any share in this resolution; so that, unless my papers should be looked over, posterity will never know that this establishment, which gave so much satisfaction, was owing to me.
The courtiers were in as great a ferment as ever. They who found there was no pushing their fortune by my means, endeavoured to hurt me. Herein they often made use of indecent, and even insolent talk, besides the baseness of calumny. Several cabals had been formed, and these produced clashing and competitions, which affected the crown, as stirring up discontent in those who held the principal posts of the state.
The chancellor de Aguesseau pleaded his great age, and laid down business, as no longer able to bear the weight of it. A courtier, who was present when the King received his resignation, said to him, _Certainly, Sire, M. de Aguesseau must be above a century old, for at a hundred years one is still young enough to be chancellor of France_.
Several other placemen quitted, alledging that they could not live in a court where every thing was ruled by a woman: but this philosophy was of the latest; they never had any thoughts of retirement, till their endeavours to raise themselves to the very highest pitch of fortune, had miscarried; and some, in their voluntary exile, had set instruments to work, for making their appearance again on the theatre of power, which they had so lately quitted.
M. de Machault had the seals. This circulation of posts, diametrically opposite in practice, and requiring different talents, has been the subject of much complaint: but the fault lies in ambition. In France subaltern posts are looked on only as introductory to the more honourable and lucrative employments. On the vacancy of any great office, my apartment was crowded with competitors, who all had a genteel competency; but they wanted profitable posts, to make a show in the world.
The round of diversions which I had settled at Versailles, to recover the King from that lethargic heaviness which was growing constitutional, did not break in on general affairs. Lewis XV. daily devoted six hours to business. In the morning he employed himself about the foreign and domestic affairs.
The death of Marshal count Saxe now cast a damp on the festivity of the court. I remember a man of wit, being in my apartment when the news came, said to me, _Now, Madam, we shall soon have a war, for he was the only one of all his Majesty’s generals whom the King of Prussia in the least feared_.
The frequent conferences between Lewis XV. and this hero gave me an opportunity of studying his temper; for there is a pleasure in knowing great men; and his mind was of a singular cast: all his private behaviour savoured of the common man, great only in the day of action; then his soul, if I may be allowed the expression, assumed a new form; it became piercing, noble, and exalted: a new light beaming on his mind, he had an instantaneous perception of every thing. His imagination had nothing to do, the military genius which inspired him at those times was all-sufficient; yet after the battle, all this flame and magnanimity sunk again into littleness and vulgarity, nothing great remained in him but the fame of his actions.
In private life, he addicted himself to sensuality in its most brutish excesses; he was a stranger to that refined love which distinguishes noble from vulgar souls, delighting in the company of women only for debauchery; for all his mistresses were common prostitutes. Whilst he was disturbing all Europe by his victories, the gallantries of La Favart, an actress, allowed him no ease.
They who were often with him say, that he had scarce any tincture of learning; war was all he knew; and that he knew without learning it. Some politicians have thought, that his death wrought a change in the systems of Europe, and particularly, that the King of Prussia would never have renewed the war, had Maurice been living: it is certain that one man may change the whole scene of our political world.
I have read, in original memoirs of Lewis XIV. of surprising revolutions, brought about only by the ascendency of one mortal. Count Saxe had long laboured with indefatigable ardour in pursuit of a repose which he never enjoyed; for scarce had he seen himself in that summit of grandeur to which his military talents had raised him, than death laid him in the grave. Besides the royal seat given him by the King, in reward of his services, with suitable incomes, he was invested with the highest dignities and honours.
This general left behind him an incontestable reputation; his very enemies allow him to have been a consummate warrior; but if he did a great deal for France, France still did more for him; he never wanted for any thing. The King’s commissaries constantly furnished him with plenty of all necessaries; he had large armies, and fought in a country which has almost ever been the theatre of French victories, and where the glory of the French name has shone in its greatest lustre. Farther, Maurice had with him the King’s best troops, impatiently longing to signalize themselves. I heard one of the trade, and reckoned to understand it thoroughly, say, that to be a hero, a man should have passed through all the military paths leading to glory; whereas Maurice, in the service of France, trod only one, and that smoothed for him; he was never put to those trials where a commander, being forced to exert all his abilities, approves himself a general.
I have read in the manuscript memoirs of Lewis XV. that the great Condé’s enemies put the Queen-mother on sending him into Catalonia only with a small body of troops, and those of the very worst. Conde, who knew his enemies views, wrote thus to his friend Gourville: _I have been sent here to attack the gods and men, with only shadows to fight them. I shall miscarry; how can it be otherwise, when the means of beating the enemy have been all taken away from me?_ Yet this hero, under the disadvantages both of numbers and the climate, baffled all the efforts of Spain.
The death of Marshal Saxe occasioned a revolution in the minds of the military courtiers. They who hitherto had hid themselves behind his merit, made their appearance: all put in for this hero’s post, and not one of them was qualified for it.
The King, on the first notice of count Maurice’s death, said, _I am now without any general, I have only some captains remaining_. Lowendahl, however, was still living; but it is said, the genius of those two men was formed to be together, and that the heroic virtues of the latter derived their splendor from the superior qualities of the other. A courtier said, on this head, _Lowendahl’s exploits are over; his counsellor is dead_.
Whilst Versailles was full of this event, the Pope’s nuncio came to acquaint Lewis XV. that the King of Prussia had granted the free exercise of the Roman Catholic religion at Berlin; and that even the religious were allowed to settle, and wear the habit of their respective orders. A courtier hereupon said to the King, _Sire, that Prince is for having a little of every thing. Once nothing would go down with him but soldiers, now he must have some monks_. Another courtier replied, _Since he begins to fancy gowns, let me advise your Majesty to make him a present of all the Jesuits in France_. A third added, _That article should be kept for the next treaty of peace, and let six Loyolites be exchanged for one soldier_. The systematical people, however, attributed this indulgence to policy; for when a Prince is looked on to be full of schemes and designs, every step of his is nicely canvassed, and various constructions put on it. Some said that the King of Prussia thereby intended to ingratiate himself with the court of Rome, as, by its intrigues with weak and superstitious princes, it can amply make up its want of temporal strength. Some thought it to arise from a new system of population, to draw Catholics thither from other parts; but the monks and priests of our faith do not increase population, &c. &c.
For my part, I attributed it to the humour for new foundations, which prevails with all the princes of our days. On examining the constitution of the Prussian government, which is an absolute monarchy, the plurality of religions will by no means appear suitable to it; at least I have heard from a very intelligent person, that it is only in republics where a freedom of religion can be properly allowed.
For some time the King had been more chearful than usual: after so many vexations and fatigues, he now began to breathe a little; he was at leisure to be often with me, and to hunt as much as he could. Never was a Prince so fond of this exercise. His eagerness in it often fatigued him beyond all bounds. I one day represented to him, that he made a toil of that pleasure, and that it would be better for him to be more moderate in it; that excess in any thing was hurtful: but he answered, that the more he hunted, the better he found himself. This is a new medical system; the court-physicians, who are all for motion and agitation, will have kings to spend half their life on horse-back.
But a great satisfaction, which that justly beloved Prince now felt, was the having given some relief to his burthened subjects. He had remitted three millions of the land-tax, abolished the hundredth denier, and the pence per livres levied on this impost. Though this was no great good, it presaged the end of a great evil.
At the same time, Lewis XV. ordered an inquiry into the nature of the taxes; of all imposts, the land-tax was found to be the most burthensome, as not proportioned to the real income. The old tax was still levied, without considering any decays, or damages of estates and lands; many a market-town, or village, which had formerly been able to pay large sums, was now no longer so; yet the same duty was required.
The government deliberated on ways for abolishing such an unequal tax, and substitute another of a more proportionate assessment. This had, for some time past, been often proposed, but always rejected. It was now again taken into consideration, and after the most minute discussions, it was found best to leave things as they were, lest worse inconveniences might ensue. It is said, there are abuses in government, the reformation of which would do more harm than the very abuse itself. This was the opinion of the ministers, and of the King himself; but it was not mine, having always thought that no good can come from evil. We had often little debates about government, for Lewis XV. as I have said in the beginning of these Memoirs, has a great deal of wit and good-sense, and especially a very ready penetration. “You, Madam, would he say to me, look on the political community as a private family, whereas it is to be considered as an universal society, consisting of different bodies, the conjunction of which constitutes the state. Amidst this immensity of objects, conducted by men of opposite views and interests; the security and well-being of the state is upheld by those very things which seem to undermine it. In a private family, there is only one single plan of administration, the abuses are few, easily animadverted on, and the reformation of them restores that unity of government which is the perfection of such a society: but in the general community, good is to be continually ballanced by evil, and in this equipoize lies the political order of the state.”
“If so, Sir, said I to him, how is it that those states, where the most abuses are reformed, are the best governed. The Muscovites, of all the European nations, were the least civilized, and consequently the most unhappy, till Peter the Great appeared, who vigorously suppressing abuses of all kinds, from his reformation has sprung a powerful nation, a rich and happy people.
“Brandenburgh had neither force nor power; the art of war was scarce known there; it lay in obscurity; it was of no account among the states of Europe; and this contemptible condition was, in a great measure, owing to many abuses which its sovereigns either could not or would not reform. But in our times, one of its sovereigns has suppressed abuses, introduced political order and military discipline, and this reformation has enabled him to act a capital part on the theatre of Europe.”
“England is said once to have been nothing, till the parliament took in hand to form its power. It has since been continually retouching the political system, and correcting a number of abuses, which, for several centuries, hindered this state from emerging into power and reputation; and now its _bills_ shew the continued system of its greatness.
“France, Sir, is a home instance of this. Lewis XIII. a weak Prince, and wholly governed by his ministers, concerned not himself about abuses; he left the state as he found it, full of mismanagement and disorder. Your great grand-father changed the whole, and by the reformation he brought about in all the branches of government, imparted, as it were, a new genius to his people.
“France, during the first years of Lewis XIV. rose to a pitch of glory and grandeur beyond any thing ever seen in the Roman empire.”
Here the King smiled, and very obligingly said to me, “I own, Madam, I did not think you had been so well acquainted with these points; it gives me infinite pleasure that, besides the graces of wit and vivacity, you are possessed of that knowledge which enlarges and revives the judgment. The world is often deceived in those matters, continued the King, and the greatness of Princes is almost ever confounded with the happiness of the people. A Sovereign may make reformations in his kingdom, and his subjects be never the better for them; he is the only gainer by the change.
“Peter I. made considerable alterations in Muscovy, but did not thereby make the Russians a whit the happier. The revolution was felt only by the state. The Monarch became great and powerful, but the people still continued little and mean; for to have brought them from the abject state in which they then were, required the suppression of a multitude of civil abuses and vices, which continued after his time, and still subsist. The present Muscovites are sordid slaves, with all the ignorance and superstition of their fore-fathers, who lived before the reign of that great reformer Peter. And if the empire, once without a soldier, has now a numerous army; yet this adventitious power depends on the chance of a battle or two.
“Prussia, with all the reformations made there, does not find itself more happy. The people, amidst their Monarch’s victories, groan under the weight of the military burden laid on them; and its power depends on the existence of one single man. When Frederick comes to die, its political state dies with him.
“It is a question, continued the King, much debated, whether the English are more powerful, and more happy, than they were before those volumes of reforming _bills_ were in being: this is a point the nation itself is not agreed on. There is a party in England which affirms that the government is intirely ruined, and the political state indebted beyond what it is able to pay; and that it cannot answer its necessities. Yet I am inclined to think that England is increased in strength; but this is rather owing to the inadvertency of other powers, than to any reformations of its own, which would have profited very little, had its neighbours followed its example.
“As to the instance of our own country, I have wished that France had been in the same situation, at my accession to the throne, that Lewis XIII. left it in. His successor, what with reformations, splendor, and glory, reduced it so low, that it will be ages before it is thoroughly recovered.”
Our political discussions were always mixed with politeness and compliments; never did a word come from Lewis XV’s mouth which had any thing of asperity in it, &c.
England still kept a watchful eye on the French navy; and, on our side, the increase of it was the ministry’s chief object. All M. Rouille’s demands of money were immediately answered, and he lost no time: ships were daily launched.
France and England were, indeed, at peace; but acted with the same mistrust as if at open war; the public expences rose high; yet the French, who are continually complaining, did not in the least murmur, so convinced was every one of the absolute necessity of having a navy capable of facing that of Great Britain.
In the mean time, all the ministers continued declaring themselves against me; the very persons who, through my interest with his Majesty, had been promoted to the object of their wishes, were the most forward in promoting my disgrace. Since my living at Versailles, I have often lamented this flagitiousness, which is, as it were, innate in the human mind. No sooner is a man invested with honour and power, than he studies to cut off the hand which raised him. It is not my intention to enter into all the arts and practices of my enemies; there would be no end of the allusions, tales, stories, and songs, industriously disseminated over the kingdom to expose me. However, I was always exactly informed of what was said about me; but of some of my revilers I took no notice; others I threatened to complain of to the King. All, however, continued their abuses: I was a thousand times for leaving the court, had I not apprehended that the King being now habituated to see me daily, it might shorten his valuable life.
The Count de Argenson, secretary at war, did not love me, saying, “That I gave too many military posts; that he had not so much as a lieutenancy of foot at his disposal.” Now this accusation was so far from being true, that I never recommended any person to his Majesty, without previously consulting that Minister. It was purely my favour which rankled him; he wanted to set the King against me, that he might ingross the whole royal favour to himself.
Peace being the season for public foundations, a plan of a military school, for instructing the French nobility in the art of war, was laid before his Majesty in the year 1751. _The kingdom_, said the author, _was full of gentlemen who, unable, conveniently, to put themselves under masters, led an inactive life in the country, instead of spending it in the service of the state_.
In this school five hundred gentlemen were to be boarded and educated: the King was pleased to shew me the plan, and asked my thoughts on it.
“Sir, said I, nothing can be better; I could only wish it more comprehensive. This school will not furnish officers enough for France, which is so frequently at war. I have heard Marshal Saxe say, That in an army of two hundred and fifty thousand men, there was seldom less than twenty thousand officers; so that only one fortieth of that number can be had from the military-school, which to me appears no small defect in a foundation, of itself, so excellent.”
A courtier, on reading the plan for this school, jocularly said, _This martial convent will afford very good military monks_.
The great objection made against it, by some discreet persons, was the exorbitant expence of it, at a time when every resource of the state had been drained to defray the extraordinary demands of the war. The expence, indeed, was not to be furnished from the royal treasury; but from whatever fund sums are taken on such occasions, they are still burthensome, as tending to keep the people poor.
It was likewise said, that France stood more in need of a naval than a military-school; that the King might find a hundred land-officers in his dominions, for one sea-officer; that the French gentry was naturally fond of signalizing itself in armies, and had as great an aversion to fleets; but the plan had been resolved on.
The powers of Europe were at peace, when religious disputes, breaking out, disturbed France in its political and domestic quiet.
Two parties, who, for forty years past, had been contending for the superiority, now returned to the charge. Being quite ignorant of the subject of their quarrels, I had it explained to me. Should ever these Memoirs be made public, the reader will be so kind as to excuse my tiring him with the following detail. Never had this evil found a place in these annals, had it not concerned the King; but his interesting himself in this dispute, and greatly so, is alone sufficient motive for my giving some account of it.
A native of Spain, named Molina, in the fullness of his knowledge, took it into his head to decide, and vindicate, how God acts on mortals, and in what manner mortals withstand God. The Popes, who know every thing, and pronounce sentence on every thing, had, till then, been totally unacquainted with the mechanism of the metaphysical intercourse between the Creator and creature; and, for their better information, Molina invented many barbarous words, or scholastic terms, with innumerable distinctions and divisions.
To proceed in this dispute with some order, and wrangle theologically, he distinguished between _preventive_ and _co-operating grace_: one of these graces could do any thing, and the other little or nothing; but this not being sufficient for understanding what he himself did not understand, he farther invented the _mediate knowledge_ and _congruism_.
According to him, God held a council of state in Heaven, before which all men were summoned and interrogated, how they will act after receiving his grace; and, according to the free use which he saw they were to make of it, he decreed within himself, either to admit them into Paradise, or call them down into hell.
Unluckily for the Christian world, this Molina was a Jesuit; an order little beloved by the others: the Dominicans, especially, raised an outcry against his congruism.
These things being transacted in Spain, the Inquisition took cognizance of the altercation; and had they burned Molina, and a few Dominicans, there would have been an end of the matter, and, for once, this tribunal had done a good piece of service to Christendom. _Concomitant concurrence_ and _co-operating grace_ had a trial at Rome; but the more the parties disputed, the less understood they one another. A monk offered his mediation: but this mediator was less intelligible than the controversists.
The difficulty was not so much the putting an end to the dispute, as to know what the dispute was about. Neither party understood themselves or the other, and, in the mean time, with their free-will, mediate knowledge, complement of active virtue, &c. they ran themselves more and more into darkness.
The bickerings, at length, ceased for want of disputants, there being times when monks sacrifice every thing to indolence. All remained quiet, till one Cornelius Jansenius renewed the contest; yet, instead of inventing any thing, he only disputed behind a huge book, the author of which was named Baius. The Jesuits sollicited the Pope to condemn Cornelius, and by the dexterity of their agents at Rome, carried their point there; but in other parts of Europe, it went against them. The universities, the parliaments, and chiefly the women, profound judges of such things, sided with Jansenius.
A paper war commenced with great acrimony; congruism, by dint of bulky volumes, worsted predestination in some pitched battles: yet the war went on undecided; both parties being now grown powerful, and fighting merely for the honour of victory.
Till then, only private persons had appeared in the field; but now universities declaring themselves, the action became general. No accommodation was so much as talked of, there being no body, or society, in the state, of a power sufficient to compel the two parties to accept of its mediation.
Comments
Log in to leave a comment.
Memoirs of the Marchioness of Pompadour (vol. 1 of 2)Chapter IV: Part 4
0%37 min left in chapter