Up to the time of the Du Barry the court of France had been the stage where the
whole political and human drama of that country was enacted. Under Louis XV
the drama had been transformed into parades--parades which were of as much
importance to the people as to those who took part in them. The spectators,
hitherto silent, now began to hiss and be moved. The scene of the comedy was
changed, and the play was continued among the spectators. The old theatre
became an ante-chamber or a dressing-room, and was no longer important
except in connection with the Cardinal de Bernis and the Duc de Richelieu, or
Madame de Pompadour and Madame du Barry.
The monarchy had still a step to take towards its downfall. It had already created
the Parc aux Cerfs (Louis XV's seraglio), but had not yet descended to the
Parisian house of prostitution. It made this descent leaning on the arm of
Madame du Barry. Madame du Barry was a moral sister to Manon Lescaut, but
instead of taking herself off to Louisiana to repent, she plunged into the golden
whirlpool at Versailles as a finish to her career. Could the coaches of a King
mean more than the ordinary carriage of an abandoned girl?
Jeanne Vaubernier--known in the bagnios by the name of Mademoiselle Lange--
was born at Vaucouleurs, as was Jeanne d'Arc. Better still, this later Jeanne said
openly at Versailles--dared she say otherwise?-- that she was descended in a
straight line from the illustrious, the venerated, the august, sacred, national maid,
Jeanne. "Why did Du Barry come to Paris?'" says Leon Gozlan in that account of
the Château de Lucienne which makes a brilliant and learned chapter in the
history of France. "Does one ever know precisely why things are done? She
obeyed the magnet which attracts to Paris all who in themselves have a title to
glory, to celebrity, or to misfortune. Du Barry had a pretty, provincial face, bright
and charming, a face astonished at everything, hair soft and ash-colored, blue
eyes, veiled and half open, and a skin fair with rose tints. She was a child of
destiny. Who could have said, when she crossed the great town in her basket
cart, which rolled lazily along on its massive, creaking wheels, that some day she
would have equipages more beautiful than any of those which covered her with
mud in passing, and on her arms more laces and diamonds than any of these
ladies attended by footmen in liveries?"
When Jeanne left the provinces to come to Paris, she found her native country.
She was granted the freedom of the city, and expanded in her joy like a delicate
plant transplanted into a hothouse. She found herself at home for the first time;
and felt that she could rule as a despot over all frequenters of the streets. She
learned fashion and love at one and the same time. Gourdan had a hat made for
her, and, as a reward, initiated her into the customs. But she was called to other
destinies.
One day, when she was walking in the Tuileries, a lunatic--and lunatics have
second sight--asked her favor when she should become queen. Du Barry said to
