He thought proper,
however, to claim a part of those of the secretaryship, which is
called the chancery. It was in time of war, and there were many
passports issued. For each of these passports a sequin was paid to the
secretary who made it out and countersigned it. All my predecessors
had been paid this sequin by Frenchmen and others without distinction.
I thought this unjust, and although I was not a Frenchman, I abolished
it in favor of the French; but I so rigorously demanded my right
from persons of every other nation, that the Marquis de Scotti,
brother to the favorite of the Queen of Spain, having asked for a
passport without taking notice of the sequin, I sent to demand it; a
boldness which the vindictive Italian did not forget. As soon as the
new regulation I had made, relative to passports, was known, none
but pretended Frenchmen, who in a gibberish the most mispronounced,
called themselves Provencals, Picards, or Burgundians, came to
demand them. My ear being very fine, I was not thus made a dupe, and I
am almost persuaded that not a single Italian ever cheated me of my
sequin, and that not one Frenchmen ever paid it. I was foolish
enough to tell M. de Montaigu, who was ignorant of everything that
passed, what I had done. The word sequin made him open his ears, and
without giving me his opinion of the abolition of that tax upon the
French, he pretended I ought to account with him for the others,
promising me at the same time equivalent advantages.
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