Thus Louis shut himself away in his petits appartements and mourned the Marquise.
The case against the Jesuits was meanwhile growing to a climax. Not only in France were factions rising against them; they were considered to be a menace all over the world. It was said that they governed all Catholic countries, not openly but in secret; they had set up their colleges everywhere and sought to educate the young to their way of thinking, and thus strengthen their brotherhood. They had insinuated themselves into many of the Courts of Europe, chiefly as confessors to Kings and Queens, thus acquiring great ascendancy over those who governed.
Some years before, a rich Jesuit, Père La Vallette, who was the Superior of the Jesuits of Martinique, had lost many of his ships to English pirates. Being unable to maintain his industrial settlement, he became bankrupt to the tune of three million francs. His creditors were in a state of panic, and a number of them in Marseilles demanded that the Society should pay them the million francs owed by La Vallette.
The Society declared that it was not responsible for the debts of one of its members, whereupon the Marseilles merchants appealed to the Parlement of Paris, which ordered Père de Sacy, the General of the Jesuits, to settle La Vallette’s debts.
The magistrates, who had sided with the Jansenites against the Jesuits in the many conflicts between the two, declared that this was more than a case of bankruptcy, and the affairs of the Society should be thoroughly investigated.
They declared that they had discovered the rules of the Society to be inconsistent with those of the Kingdom of France, and to be both disloyal and immoral. They ordered the colleges to be closed.
Those who supported the Jesuits, headed by the Dauphin and the Queen, made an immediate protest.
Choiseul and the Marquise had stood firmly on the side of the Parlement.
Madame de Pompadour had always considered the Jesuits a menace, but she had hated them more vehemently since their General, Père de Sacy, had refused to grant her absolution unless she left the Court. In the midst of this struggle she had died. Choiseul had determined on the expulsion of the Jesuits, but now that Madame de Pompadour was dead he had lost an ardent champion.
Louis was in no hurry to come to a decision. At the time of the investigation he sought to protect the Jesuits because he felt, as he had previously, that the Parlement was endeavouring to take his power from his hands. Eager as he was that France should not be in the power of the Pope – as the Jesuits wished her to be – he was equally determined that it was the King, not the Parlement, who should have the final say in the affairs of the country.
The Parlement had shown itself belligerent and, when he had attempted to oppose them over this matter of the Jesuits, had hinted that there should be an inquiry into the acquits au comptant. Louis knew that he could not face an inquiry into his private expenditure. The upkeep of the Parc aux Cerfs alone was excessive. There were young women who had been granted pensions and gifts; he had many children to maintain. Pretty little Mademoiselle Hainault had given him two delightful daughters, and it had cost a considerable amount to provide her with a pension and a husband in the Marquis de Montmelas. Adorable Lucie-Magdaleine d’Estaing, who was the natural daughter of the Vicomte de Ravel, had presented him with two charming daughters, Agnes-Lucie and Aphrodite-Lucie. He doted on his quartette of daughters, but they must be maintained in adequate comfort, and that cost money. There was the naughty little Mademoiselle de Tiercelin who was constantly demanding that her debts be paid. A life such as he led, although it presented him with variety and entertainment, also presented him with enormous bills. And he had no wish that the people should know the extent of his gallantries.
Already they talked of him as the Old Sultan, and exaggerated concerning the Parc aux Cerfs, which they called his harem; but until they had seen in black and white the cost of his pleasure, they must always doubt the authenticity of the stories they heard.
No, Louis could not allow his acquits au comptant to be made public and must submit to the blackmail of the Parlement.
The Dauphin, who had nothing to fear from an inquiry into his private life, threw himself wholeheartedly into the defence of the Jesuits.
He demanded an interview with the King and Choiseul.
Choiseul ignored the Dauphin; he knew that they could never be anything but enemies, and that it was useless to try to placate him.
He said to the King: ‘Sire, if you do not suppress the Jesuits you must suppress Parlement. And to suppress Parlement at this time would mean one thing: revolution.’
The Dauphin intervened. ‘Why should we not suppress Parlement? Why should we not set up Provincial Estates? They would be selected from the nobility.’
‘And the clergy?’ murmured Choiseul.
‘Members of the clergy and the nobility,’ insisted the Dauphin.
Choiseul again addressed himself to the King. ‘Sire, whatever form the Dauphin’s Provincial Estates took, it could only consist of men. One visualises their uniting, and standing together. They would be so powerful that they would usurp the power of the throne itself.’
‘Any who dared do that would be exiled,’ cried the Dauphin vehemently.
Choiseul burst into loud laughter. ‘Sire,’ he said turning to the King, ‘is it possible to exile the entire nation?’
‘Monsieur de Choiseul is right,’ said the King. ‘There is no way out of this impasse but exile for the Jesuits.’
The Dauphin turned on Choiseul with blazing eyes. ‘You have done this . . . you . . . with your schemes, with your ambitious dreams. You are an atheist . . . for all you make a show of attending sacred ceremonies. I wonder there is not some sign from Heaven . . .’
The expression on Choiseul’s pug-dog face was insolent in the extreme. ‘A sign from Heaven?’ he said, looking about him, out of the window and up at the sky. ‘I am no atheist, Monseigneur, but in the King’s cultured Court we have grown away from superstition. Perhaps that is why, in those circles which lag behind us intellectually, we are mistaken for atheists.’
‘Choiseul,’ spluttered the Dauphin, ‘you forget . . . you forget to whom you speak . . .’
‘I do not forget,’ said Choiseul becoming suddenly heated as the Dauphin, ‘that I may one day be unfortunate enough to be your subject, but I shall never serve you.’ He turned again to the King, his face white with the suddenness of his emotion. ‘Sire, have I your permission to retire?’
‘You have it,’said the King.
When he had gone, the Dauphin and the King faced each other, and Louis felt an unsuppressible distaste for this earnest son of his who even now, he believed, was supporting the Jesuits, not from any political angle but because he believed himself to be a representative of Holy Church.
The French would have a very bigoted King when this young man came to the throne. Indeed, thought Louis, I must live for a very long time; this poor son of mine has so much to learn.
‘You . . . Your Majesty heard the insolence of that fellow!’ the Dauphin stuttered. ‘I . . . I shall never forgive him.’