So the rumours were started, persisted in, embellished. Nothing was too scandalous to be recounted about Madame du Barry.
In the streets and the cafés they were not only talking of her, they were singing about her, and one of the most popular ballads was that which Choiseul had had based on that old folk song La Bourbonnaise.
Quelle merveille!
Une fille de rien,
Une fille de rien,
Quelle merveille!
Donne au Roi de l’amour,
Est à la Cour!
Elle est gentille;
Elle a les yeux fripons;
Elle a les yeux fripons;
Elle est gentille;
Elle excite avec art
Un vieux paillard.
En maison bonne,
Elle a pris de leçons,
Elle a pris de leçons,
En maison bonne,
Chez Gourdan, chez Brisson,
Elle en sait long.
Que de postures!
Elle a lu Arétin,
Elle a lu Arétin;
Que de postures!
Elle fait en tous sens
Prendre les sens.
Le Roi s’écrie:
L’Ange, le beau talent!
L’Ange, le beau talent!
Viens sur mon trône,
Je veux te couronner,
Je veux te couronner.
These songs were sung beneath the windows of the Château itself. The King heard them, Madame du Barry herself heard them.
Louis watched her, as she sat with her head on one side listening.
He was prepared for anger, but she only laughed. She began to tap out the rhythm and Louis stared in astonishment as Madame du Barry herself sang La Bourbonnaise.
‘You are a very unusual woman,’ he said.
‘But how so?’ she asked.
‘To sing that song.’
‘I like the tune.
‘ “Quelle merveillel Une fille de rien . . .” ’ she sang. She laughed. ‘It is true . . . that part at least. That is what I am: “une fille de rien”.’
‘I will tell you what you are,’ said Louis emotionally; ‘you are the gentlest-tempered woman in the world. Madame de Pompadour would have discovered the writer of that song and insisted on his sojourn in the Bastille.’
‘Ah,’ Jeanne replied, ‘but Madame de Pompadour was a great lady. And I am only: “Une fille de rien”.’
There had rarely been such controversy at Court as there was over the presentation of Madame du Barry, for in spite of the King’s eagerness and determination that the presentation should take place, there was a powerful section against this.
Choiseul and his sister naturally led this section, but it contained other powerful adherents.
The Dauphin, a gauche boy of about fifteen, very much under the influence of his Aunt Adelaide, had been induced to show his contempt for Madame du Barry on more than one occasion; and although he was but a boy, it was remembered at Court that Louis was nearly sixty, and when he died that boy would be King.
The Princesse Adelaide also, although she had now very little influence at Court, was nevertheless the King’s daughter.
So, although Louis very much desired this presentation, he continually found that obstacles were put in the way of its taking place.
Anyone but the imperturbable du Barry might have felt that she was destined never to take the place of Madame de Pompadour, but Jeanne merely shrugged aside the difficulties which were placed in her way, bore few grudges against her enemies, took her lessons in deportment from Vestris, the most celebrated dancing master in France, and continued to delight the King.
Richelieu had now come out into the open as her ardent supporter, and had himself ordered her Court dress. Marigny, the brother of Madame de Pompadour, had also given proof of his support, and ordered that the châteaux of Bellevue, Marly and Choisy should be redecorated in readiness for the new favourite.
This was gratifying but, until a sponsor could be found, Jeanne could not be presented, and in spite of the fact that the King himself wished that sponsor to be found, it was exceedingly difficult to discover a woman who would undertake the task.
The Baronne de Montmorency offered her services, but she insisted that for such a task she would need generous reward. The sum she asked for was quite fantastic, and Louis angrily declined her services, since to accept them at that price would have been an insult to Madame du Barry.
The next candidate was the Comtesse de Béarn. The price she asked was more moderate, so it was accepted. But when it was heard that she had undertaken the task, she was boycotted so severely by the Choiseul faction, treated with such disdain by the Dauphin and the Princesse Adelaide – and naturally by Victoire and Sophie – that she was alarmed and at the last moment pretended to have sprained her ankle.
The ceremony was postponed.
Madame d’Alogny next offered her services. Adelaide was very annoyed. This woman had seen the anger which the conduct of the Comtesse de Béarn had aroused, yet brazenly she came forward to do what Madame de Béarn’s good sense had prevented her from doing.
‘I will show her,’ Adelaide told her sisters, ‘what it means to flout me.’
She then showed her sisters and the Court so successfully that for some time poor Madame d’Alogny wished not only that she had never agreed to present Madame du Barry but that she had never been born.
At a ceremony when Madame d’Alogny was received by Adelaide and it was necessary for to kneel, kiss the hem of the Princesse’s gown and wait for permission to rise, Adelaide merely walked away from her, leaving her kneeling there unable, in accordance with the etiquette of Versailles, to rise, since the permission had not been given.
To find herself in such a position was like living in a nightmare. Madame d’Alogny did not know what to do, but remained kneeling while the company looked on at her with raised eyebrows until, overcome with shame, she rose and shuffled away.
She knew that she would be similarly humiliated on future occasions if she persisted in her plans to present Madame du Barry at Court.
She therefore declared that, in spite of the generous remuneration, she could not do it.
The King was furious; even Jeanne began to wonder whether she would ever be presented. Louis, however, was not going to allow his desires to be frustrated. He sent for the Comtesse de Béarn and told her that she would formally present Madame du Barry to him whether she liked the task or not.
Madame de Béarn assured the Court that she had received orders and dared not disobey them. She prayed they would not blame her therefore, because she was obliged to carry out this uncongenial task.
In this case, said the Choiseul faction, there is no help for it. Madame du Barry will be presented.
Then, a few days after Madame de Béarn had been forced to accept the task imposed upon her, the King had an accident in the hunting field.
When Adelaide saw his body being brought to the Château on a stretcher she called to her sister: ‘This is the judgement of Providence. God has decided that Madame du Barry shall never be presented at Court.’