On one occasion the Duke of Parma sent the bishop of that place to negotiate some affair with him; but M. de Vendome took such disgusting liberties in his presence, that the ecclesiastic, though without saying a word, returned to Parma, and declared to his master that never would he undertake such an embassy again.  In his place another envoy was sent, the famous Alberoni.  He was the son of a gardener, who became an Abbe in order to get on.  He was full of buffoonery; and pleased M. de Parma as might a valet who amused him, but he soon showed talent and capacity for affairs.  The Duke thought that the night-chair of M. de Vendome required no other ambassador than Alberoni, who was accordingly sent to conclude what the bishop had left undone.  The Abbe determined to please, and was not proud.  M. de Vendome exhibited himself as before; and Alberoni, by an infamous act of personal adoration, gained his heart.  He was thenceforth much with him, made cheese-soup and other odd messes for him; and finally worked his way.  It is true he was cudgelled by some one he had offended, for a thousand paces, in sight of the whole army, but this did not prevent his advancement.  Vendome liked such an unscrupulous flatterer; and yet as we have seen, he was not in want of praise.  The extraordinary favour shown him by the King—­the credulity with which his accounts of victories were received—­showed to every one in what direction their laudation was to be sent.

Such was the man whom the King and the whole Court hastened to caress and flatter from the first moment of his arrival amongst us.  There was a terrible hubbub:  boys, porters, and valets rallied round his postchaise when he reached Marly.  Scarcely had he ascended into his chamber, than everybody, princes, bastards and all the rest, ran after him.  The ministers followed:  so that in a short time nobody was left in the salon but the ladies.  M. de Beauvilliers was at Vaucresson.  As for me, I remained spectator, and did not go and adore this idol.

In a few minutes Vendome was sent for by the King and Monseigneur.  As soon as he could dress himself, surrounded as he was by such a crowd, he went to the salon, carried by it rather than environed.  Monseigneur stopped the music that was playing, in order to embrace him.  The King left the cabinet where he was at work, and came out to meet him, embracing him several times.  Chamillart on the morrow gave a fete in his honour at L’Etang, which lasted two days.  Following his example, Pontchartrain, Torcy, and the most distinguished lords of the Court, did the same.  People begged and entreated to give him fetes; people begged and entreated to be invited to them.  Never was triumph equal to his; each step he took procured him a new one.  It is not too much to say, that everybody disappeared before him; Princes of the blood, ministers, the grandest seigneurs, all appeared only to show how high he was above them; even the King seemed only to remain King to elevate him more.