CHAPTER VII.
ALBERONI.
When D'Harmental awoke, he wondered if all had been a dream. Events had,during the last thirty-six hours, succeeded each other with suchrapidity, that he had been carried away, as by a whirlpool, withoutknowing where he was going. Now for the first time he had leisure toreflect on the past and the future.
These were times in which every one conspired more or less. We know thenatural bent of the mind in such a case. The first feeling weexperience, after having made an engagement in a moment of exaltation,is one almost of regret for having been so forward. Little by little webecome familiarized with the idea of the dangers we are running.Imagination removes them from our sight, and presents instead theambitions we may realize. Pride soon becomes mingled with it, as wethink that we have become a secret power in the State. We walk alongproudly, with head erect, passing contemptuously those who lead anordinary life; we cradle ourselves in our hopes, and wake one morningconquering or conquered; carried on the shoulders of the people, orbroken by the wheels of that machine called the government.
Thus it was with D'Harmental. After a few moments' reflection, he sawthings under the same aspect as he had done the day before, andcongratulated himself upon having taken the highest place among suchpeople as the Montmorencies and the Polignacs. His family hadtransmitted to him much of that adventurous chivalry so much in vogueunder Louis XIII., and which Richelieu with his scaffolds, and LouisXIV. with his antechambers, had not quite been able to destroy. Therewas something romantic in enlisting himself, a young man, under thebanners of a woman, and that woman a granddaughter of the great Conde.
D'Harmental lost no time in preparing to keep the promises he had made,for he felt that the eyes of all the conspirators were upon him, andthat on his courage and prudence depended the destinies of two kingdoms,and the politics of the world. At this moment the regent was thekeystone of the arch of the European edifice; and France was beginningto take, if not by arms, at least by diplomacy, that influence which shehad unfortunately not always preserved. Placed at the center of thetriangle formed by the three great Powers, with eyes fixed on Germany,one arm extended toward England, and the other toward Spain, ready toturn on either of these three States that should not treat her accordingto her dignity, she had assumed, under the Duc d'Orleans, an attitude ofcalm strength which she had never had under Louis XIV.
This arose from the division of interests consequent on the usurpationof William of Orange, and the accession of Philip V. to the throne ofSpain. Faithful to his old hatred against the stadtholder, who hadrefused him his daughter, Louis XIV. had constantly advanced thepretensions of James II., and, after his death, of the Chevalier de St.George. Faithful to his compact with Philip V., he had constantly aidedhis grandson against the emperor, with men and money; and, weakened bythis double war, he had been reduced to the shameful treaty of Utrecht;but at the death of the old king all was changed, and the regent hadadopted a very different line of conduct. The treaty of Utrecht was onlya truce, which had been broken from the moment when England and Hollanddid not pursue common interests with those of France.
In consequence, the regent had first of all held out his hand to GeorgeI., and the treaty of the triple alliance had been signed at La Haye, byDubois, in the name of France; by General Cadogan, for England; and bythe pensioner, Heinsiens, for Holland. This was a great step toward thepacification of Europe, but the interests of Austria and Spain werestill in suspense. Charles VI. would not recognize Philip V. as king ofSpain; and Philip V., on his part, would not renounce his rights overthose provinces of the Spanish empire which the treaty of Utrecht hadgiven to the emperor.
It was in the hopes of bringing these things about that the regent hadsent Dubois to London, where he was pursuing the treaty of the quadruplealliance with as much ardor as he had that of La Haye. This treaty wouldhave neutralized the pretensions of the State not approved by the fourPowers. This was what was feared by Philip V. (or rather the Cardinald'Alberoni).
It was not thus with Alberoni; his was one of those extraordinaryfortunes which one sees, always with new astonishment, spring up aroundthe throne; one of those caprices of destiny which chance raises anddestroys; like a gigantic waterspout, which advances on the ocean,threatening to annihilate everything, but which is dispersed by a stonethrown from the hand of a sailor; or an avalanche, which threatens toswallow towns, and fill up valleys, because a bird in its flight hasdetached a flake of snow on the summit of the mountain.
Alberoni was born in a gardener's cottage, and as a child he was thebell-ringer. When still a young man he exchanged his smock-frock for asurplice, but was of a merry and jesting disposition. The Duke of Parmaheard him laugh one day so gayly, that the poor duke, who did not laughevery day, asked who it was that was so merry, and had him called.Alberoni related to him some grotesque adventure. His highness laughedheartily; and finding that it was pleasant to laugh sometimes, attachedhim to his person. The duke soon found that he had mind, and fanciedthat that mind was not incapable of business.
It was at this time that the poor bishop of Parma came back, deeplymortified at his reception by the generalissimo of the French army. Thesusceptibility of this envoy might compromise the grave interests whichhis highness had to discuss with France. His highness judged thatAlberoni was the man to be humiliated by nothing, and he sent the abbeto finish the negotiation which the bishop had left unfinished. M. deVendome, who had not put himself out for a bishop, did not do so for anabbe, and received the second ambassador as he had the first; but,instead of following the example of his predecessor, he found in M. deVendome's own situation so much subject for merry jests and strangepraises, that the affair was finished at once, and he came back to theduke with everything arranged to his desire.
This was a reason for the duke to employ him a second time. This timeVendome was just going to sit down to table, and Alberoni, instead ofbeginning about business, asked if he would taste two dishes of hiscooking, went into the kitchen, and came back, a "soupe au fromage" inone hand, and macaroni in the other. De Vendome found the soup so goodthat he asked Alberoni to take some with him at his own table. Atdessert Alberoni introduced his business, and profiting by the goodhumor of Vendome, he twisted him round his finger.
His highness was astonished. The greatest genius he had met with hadnever done so much. The next time it was M. de Vendome who asked theduke of Parma if he had nothing else to negotiate with him. Alberonifound means of persuading his sovereign that he would be more useful tohim near Vendome than elsewhere, and he persuaded Vendome that he couldnot exist without "soupe au fromage" and macaroni.
M. de Vendome attached him to his service, allowed him to interfere inhis most secret affairs, and made him his chief secretary. At this timeVendome left for Spain. Alberoni put himself in communication withMadame des Ursins; and when Vendome died, she gave him, near her, thesame post he had occupied near the deceased.
This was another step. The Princesse des Ursins began to get old, anunpardonable crime in the eyes of Philip V. She resolved to place ayoung woman near the king, through whom she might continue to reign overhim. Alberoni proposed the daughter of his old master, whom herepresented as a child, without character, and without will, who wouldclaim nothing of royalty but the name. The princess was taken by thispromise. The marriage was decided on, and the young princess left Italyfor Spain.
Her first act of authority was to arrest the Princesse des Ursins, whohad come to meet her in a court dress, and to send her back, as she was,with her neck uncovered, in a bitter frost, in a carriage of which theguard had broken the window with his elbow, first to Burgos, and then toFrance, where she arrived, after having been obliged to borrow fiftypistoles from her servants. After his first interview with ElizabethFarnese, the king announced to Alberoni that he was prime minister. Fromthat day, thanks to the young queen, who owed him everything, theex-ringer of bells exercised an unlimited empire over Philip V.
Now this is what Alberoni pictured to hims
elf, having always preventedPhilip V. from recognizing the peace of Utrecht. If the conspiracysucceeded--if D'Harmental carried off the Duc d'Orleans, and took him tothe citadel of Toledo, or the fortress of Saragossa--Alberoni would getMonsieur de Maine recognized as regent, would withdraw France from thequadruple alliance, throw the Chevalier de St. George with the fleet onthe English coast, and set Prussia, Sweden, and Russia, with whom hehad a treaty of alliance, at variance with Holland. The empire wouldthen profit by their dispute to retake Naples and Sicily; would assureTuscany to the second son of the king of Spain; would reunite theCatholic Netherlands to France, give Sardinia to the Dukes of Savoy,Commachio to the pope, and Mantua to the Venetians. He would makehimself the soul of the great league, of the south against the north;and if Louis XV. died, would crown Philip V. king of half the world.
All these things were now in the hands of a young man of twenty-sixyears of age; and it was not astonishing that he should be, at first,frightened at the responsibility which weighed upon him.
As he was still in deep thought, the Abbe Brigaud entered. He hadalready found a lodging for the chevalier, at No. 5, Rue du Temps-Perdu;a small furnished room, suitable to a young man who came to seek hisfortune in Paris. He brought him also two thousand pistoles from thePrince of Cellamare.
D'Harmental wished to refuse them, for it seemed as if he would be nolonger acting according to conscience and devotion; but Brigaudexplained to him that in such an enterprise there are susceptibilitiesto conquer, and accomplices to pay; and that besides, if the affairsucceeded, he would have to set out instantly for Spain, and perhapsmake his way by force of gold. Brigaud carried away a complete suit ofthe chevalier's, as a pattern for a fresh one suitable for a clerk in anoffice. The Abbe Brigaud was a useful man.
D'Harmental passed the rest of the day in preparing for his pretendedjourney, and removed, in case of accident, every letter which mightcompromise a friend; then went toward the Rue St. Honore, where--thanksto La Normande--he hoped to have news of Captain Roquefinette. In fact,from the moment that a lieutenant for his enterprise had been spoken of,he had thought of this man, who had given him, as his second, a proof ofhis careless courage. He had instantly recognized in him one of thoseadventurers always ready to sell their blood for a good price, and who,in time of peace, when their swords are useless to the State, place themat the service of individuals.
On becoming a conspirator one always becomes superstitious, andD'Harmental fancied that it was an intervention of Providence which hadintroduced him to Roquefinette. The chevalier, without being a regularcustomer, went occasionally to the tavern of La Fillon. It was quitefashionable at that time to go and drink at her house. D'Harmental wasto her neither her son, a name which she gave to all her "habitues," norher gossip, a word which she reserved for the Abbe Dubois, but simplyMonsieur le Chevalier; a mark of respect which would have beenconsidered rather a humiliation by most of the young men of fashion. LaFillon was much astonished when D'Harmental asked to see one of herservants, called La Normande.
"Oh, mon Dieu! Monsieur le Chevalier!" said she, "I am reallydistressed; but La Normande is waiting at a dinner which will last tillto-morrow evening."
"Plague! what a dinner!"
"What is to be done?" replied La Fillon. "It is a caprice of an oldfriend of the house. He will not be waited on by any one but her, and Icannot refuse him that satisfaction."
"When he has money, I suppose?"
"You are mistaken. I give him credit up to a certain sum. It is aweakness, but one cannot help being grateful. He started me in theworld, such as you see me, monsieur--I, who have had in my house thebest people in Paris, including the regent. I was only the daughter of apoor chair-bearer. Oh! I am not like the greater part of your beautifulduchesses, who deny their origin; nor like two-thirds of your dukes andpeers, who fabricate genealogies for themselves. No! what I am, I owe tomy own merit, and I am proud of it."
"Then," said the chevalier, who was not particularly interested by LaFillon's history, "you say that La Normande will not have finished withthis dinner till to-morrow evening?"
"The jolly old captain never stays less time than that at table, whenonce he is there."
"But, my dear presidente" (this was a name sometimes given to La Fillon,as a certain quid pro quo for the presidente who had the same name asherself), "do you think, by chance, your captain may be my captain?"
"What is yours called?"
"Captain Roquefinette."
"It is the same."
"He is here?"
"In person."
"Well, he is just the man I want; and I only asked for La Normande toget his address."
"Then all is right," said the presidente.
"Have the kindness to send for him."
"Oh! he would not come down for the regent himself. If you want to seehim you must go up."
"Where?"
"At No. 2, where you supped the other evening with the Baron de Valef.Oh! when he has money, nothing is too good for him. Although he is but acaptain, he has the heart of a king."
"Better and better," said D'Harmental, mounting the staircase, withoutbeing deterred by the recollection of the misadventure which hadhappened to him in that room; "that is exactly what I want."
If D'Harmental had not known the room in question, the voice of thecaptain would soon have served him for a guide.
"Now, my little loves," said he, "the third and last verse, and togetherin the chorus." Then he began singing in a magnificent bass voice, andfour or five female voices took up the chorus.
"That is better," said the captain; "now let us have the 'Battle ofMalplaquet."
"No, no," said a voice; "I have had enough of your battle."
"What! enough of it--a battle I was at myself?"
"That is nothing to me. I like a romance better than all your wickedbattle-songs, full of oaths." And she began to sing "Linval lovedArsene--"
"Silence!" said the captain. "Am I not master here? As long as I haveany money I will be served as I like. When I have no more, that will beanother thing; then you may sing what you like; I shall have nothing tosay to it."
It appeared that the servants of the cabaret thought it beneath thedignity of their sex to subscribe to such a pretension, for there wassuch a noise that D'Harmental thought it best to announce himself.
"Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up," said the captain.
D'Harmental followed the instruction which was given him in the words ofLittle Red Riding-hood; and, having entered, saw the captain lying on acouch before the remains of an ample dinner, leaning on a cushion, awoman's shawl over his shoulders, a great pipe in his mouth, and a clothrolled round his head like a turban. Three or four servants werestanding round him with napkins in their hands. On a chair near him wasplaced his coat, on which was to be seen a new shoulder-knot, his hatwith a new lace, and the famous sword which had furnished Ravanne withthe facetious comparison to his mother's spit.
"What! is it you?" cried the captain. "You find me like Monsieur deBonneval--in my seraglio, and surrounded by my slaves. You do not knowMonsieur de Bonneval, ladies: he is a pasha of three tails, who, likeme, could not bear romances, but who understood how to live. Heavenpreserve me from such a fate as his!"
"Yes, it is I, captain," said D'Harmental, unable to prevent laughing atthe grotesque group which presented itself. "I see you did not give me afalse address, and I congratulate you on your veracity."
"Welcome, chevalier," said the captain. "Ladies, I beg you to servemonsieur with the grace which distinguishes you, and to sing himwhatever songs he likes. Sit down, chevalier, and eat and drink as ifyou were at home, particularly as it is your horse we are eating anddrinking. He is already more than half gone, poor animal, but theremains are good."
"Thank you, captain, I have just dined; and I have only one word to sayto you, if you will permit it."
"No, pardieu! I do not permit it," said the captain, "unless it is aboutanother engagement--that would come before everyth
ing. La Normande, giveme my sword."
"No, captain; it is on business," interrupted D'Harmental.
"Oh! if it is on business, I am your humble servant; but I am a greatertyrant than the tyrants of Thebes or Corinth--Archias, Pelopidas,Leonidas, or any other that ends in 'as,' who put off business tillto-morrow. I have enough money to last till to-morrow evening; then,after to-morrow, business."
"But at least after to-morrow, captain, I may count upon you?"
"For life or death, chevalier."
"I believe that the adjournment is prudent."
"Prudentissimo!" said the captain. "Athenais, light my pipe. LaNormande, pour me out something to drink."
"The day after to-morrow, then, captain?"
"Yes; where shall I find you?"
"Listen," replied D'Harmental, speaking so as to be heard by no one buthim. "Walk, from ten to eleven o'clock in the morning, in the Rue duTemps Perdu. Look up; you will be called from somewhere, and you mustmount till you meet some one you know. A good breakfast will await you."
"All right, chevalier," replied the captain; "from ten to eleven in themorning. Excuse me if I do not conduct you to the door, but you know itis not the custom with Turks."
The chevalier made a sign with his hand that he dispensed with thisformality, and descended the staircase. He was only on the fourth stepwhen he heard the captain begin the famous song of the Dragoons ofMalplaquet, which had perhaps caused as much blood to be shed in duelsas there had been on the field of battle.