1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511
10512
10513
10514
10515
10516
10517
10518
10519
10520
10521
10522
10523
10524
10525
10526
10527
10528
10529
10530
10531
10532
10533
10534
10535
10536
10537
10538
10539
10540
10541
10542
10543
10544
10545
10546
10547
10548
10549
10550
10551
10552
10553
10554
10555
10556
10557
10558
10559
10560
10561
10562
10563
10564
10565
10566
10567
10568
10569
10570
10571
10572
10573
10574
10575
10576
10577
10578
10579
10580
10581
10582
10583
10584
10585
10586
10587
10588
10589
10590
10591
10592
10593
10594
10595
10596
10597
10598
10599
10600
10601
10602
10603
10604
10605
10606
10607
10608
10609
10610
10611
10612
10613
10614
10615
10616
10617
10618
10619
10620
10621
10622
10623
10624
10625
10626
10627
10628
10629
10630
10631
10632
10633
10634
10635
10636
10637
10638
10639
10640
10641
10642
10643
10644
10645
10646
10647
10648
10649
10650
10651
10652
10653
10654
10655
10656
10657
10658
10659
10660
10661
10662
10663
10664
10665
10666
10667
10668
10669
10670
10671
10672
10673
10674
10675
10676
10677
10678
10679
10680
10681
10682
10683
10684
10685
10686
10687
10688
10689
10690
10691
10692
10693
10694
10695
10696
10697
10698
10699
10700
10701
10702
10703
10704
10705
10706
10707
10708
10709
10710
10711
10712
10713
10714
10715
10716
10717
10718
10719
10720
10721
10722
10723
10724
10725
10726
10727
10728
10729
10730
10731
10732
10733
10734
10735
10736
10737
10738
10739
10740
10741
10742
10743
10744
10745
10746
10747
10748
10749
10750
10751
10752
10753
10754
10755
10756
10757
10758
10759
10760
10761
10762
10763
10764
10765
10766
10767
10768
10769
10770
10771
10772
10773
10774
10775
10776
10777
10778
10779
10780
10781
10782
10783
10784
10785
10786
10787
10788
10789
10790
10791
10792
10793
10794
10795
10796
10797
10798
10799
10800
10801
10802
10803
10804
10805
10806
10807
10808
10809
10810
10811
10812
10813
10814
10815
10816
10817
10818
10819
10820
10821
10822
10823
10824
10825
10826
10827
10828
10829
10830
10831
10832
10833
10834
10835
10836
10837
10838
10839
10840
10841
10842
10843
10844
10845
10846
10847
10848
10849
10850
10851
10852
10853
10854
10855
10856
10857
10858
10859
10860
10861
10862
10863
10864
10865
10866
10867
10868
10869
10870
10871
10872
10873
10874
10875
10876
10877
10878
10879
10880
10881
10882
10883
10884
10885
10886
10887
10888
10889
10890
10891
10892
10893
10894
10895
10896
10897
10898
10899
10900
10901
10902
10903
10904
10905
10906
10907
10908
10909
10910
10911
10912
10913
10914
10915
10916
10917
10918
10919
10920
10921
10922
10923
10924
10925
10926
10927
10928
10929
10930
10931
10932
10933
10934
10935
10936
10937
10938
10939
10940
10941
10942
10943
10944
10945
10946
10947
10948
10949
10950
10951
10952
10953
10954
10955
10956
10957
10958
10959
10960
10961
10962
10963
10964
10965
10966
10967
10968
10969
10970
10971
10972
10973
10974
10975
10976
10977
10978
10979
10980
10981
10982
10983
10984
10985
10986
10987
10988
10989
10990
10991
10992
10993
10994
10995
10996
10997
10998
10999
11000
11001
11002
11003
11004
11005
11006
11007
11008
11009
11010
11011
11012
11013
11014
11015
11016
11017
11018
11019
11020
11021
11022
11023
11024
11025
11026
11027
11028
11029
11030
11031
11032
11033
11034
11035
11036
11037
11038
11039
11040
11041
11042
11043
11044
11045
11046
11047
11048
11049
11050
11051
11052
11053
11054
11055
11056
11057
11058
11059
11060
11061
11062
11063
11064
11065
11066
11067
11068
11069
11070
11071
11072
11073
11074
11075
11076
11077
11078
11079
11080
11081
11082
11083
11084
11085
11086
11087
11088
11089
11090
11091
11092
11093
11094
11095
11096
11097
11098
11099
11100
11101
11102
11103
11104
11105
11106
11107
11108
11109
11110
11111
11112
11113
11114
11115
11116
11117
11118
11119
11120
11121
11122
11123
11124
11125
11126
11127
11128
11129
11130
11131
11132
11133
11134
11135
11136
11137
11138
11139
11140
11141
11142
11143
11144
11145
11146
11147
11148
11149
11150
11151
11152
11153
11154
11155
11156
11157
11158
11159
11160
11161
11162
11163
11164
11165
11166
11167
11168
11169
11170
11171
11172
11173
11174
11175
11176
11177
11178
11179
11180
11181
11182
11183
11184
11185
11186
11187
11188
11189
11190
11191
11192
11193
11194
11195
11196
11197
11198
11199
11200
11201
11202
11203
11204
11205
11206
11207
11208
11209
11210
11211
11212
11213
11214
11215
11216
11217
11218
11219
11220
11221
11222
11223
11224
11225
11226
11227
11228
11229
11230
11231
11232
11233
11234
11235
11236
11237
11238
11239
11240
11241
11242
11243
11244
11245
11246
11247
11248
11249
11250
11251
11252
11253
11254
11255
11256
11257
11258
11259
11260
11261
11262
11263
11264
11265
11266
11267
11268
11269
11270
11271
11272
11273
11274
11275
11276
11277
11278
11279
11280
11281
11282
11283
11284
11285
11286
11287
11288
11289
11290
11291
11292
11293
11294
11295
11296
11297
11298
11299
11300
11301
11302
11303
11304
11305
11306
11307
11308
11309
11310
11311
11312
11313
11314
11315
11316
11317
11318
11319
11320
11321
11322
11323
11324
11325
11326
11327
11328
11329
11330
11331
11332
11333
11334
11335
11336
11337
11338
11339
11340
11341
11342
11343
11344
11345
11346
11347
11348
11349
11350
11351
11352
11353
11354
11355
11356
11357
11358
11359
11360
11361
11362
11363
11364
11365
11366
11367
11368
11369
11370
11371
11372
11373
11374
11375
11376
11377
11378
11379
11380
11381
11382
11383
11384
11385
11386
11387
11388
11389
11390
11391
11392
11393
11394
11395
11396
11397
11398
11399
11400
11401
11402
11403
11404
11405
11406
11407
11408
11409
11410
11411
11412
11413
11414
11415
11416
11417
11418
11419
11420
11421
11422
11423
11424
11425
11426
11427
11428
11429
11430
11431
11432
11433
11434
11435
11436
11437
11438
11439
11440
11441
11442
11443
11444
11445
11446
11447
11448
11449
11450
11451
11452
11453
11454
11455
11456
11457
11458
11459
11460
11461
11462
11463
11464
11465
11466
11467
11468
11469
11470
11471
11472
11473
11474
11475
11476
11477
11478
11479
11480
11481
11482
11483
11484
11485
11486
11487
11488
11489
11490
11491
11492
11493
11494
11495
11496
11497
11498
11499
11500
11501
11502
11503
11504
11505
11506
11507
11508
11509
11510
11511
11512
11513
11514
11515
11516
11517
11518
11519
11520
11521
11522
11523
11524
11525
11526
11527
11528
11529
11530
11531
11532
11533
11534
11535
11536
11537
11538
11539
11540
11541
11542
11543
11544
11545
11546
11547
11548
11549
11550
11551
11552
11553
11554
11555
11556
11557
11558
11559
11560
11561
11562
11563
11564
11565
11566
11567
11568
11569
11570
11571
11572
11573
11574
11575
11576
11577
11578
11579
11580
11581
11582
11583
11584
11585
11586
11587
11588
11589
11590
11591
11592
11593
11594
11595
11596
11597
11598
11599
11600
11601
11602
11603
11604
11605
11606
11607
11608
11609
11610
11611
11612
11613
11614
11615
11616
11617
11618
11619
11620
11621
11622
11623
11624
11625
11626
11627
11628
11629
11630
11631
11632
11633
11634
11635
11636
11637
11638
11639
11640
11641
11642
11643
11644
11645
11646
11647
11648
11649
11650
11651
11652
11653
11654
11655
11656
11657
11658
11659
11660
11661
11662
11663
11664
11665
11666
11667
11668
11669
11670
11671
11672
11673
11674
11675
11676
11677
11678
11679
11680
11681
11682
11683
11684
11685
11686
11687
11688
11689
11690
11691
11692
11693
11694
11695
11696
11697
11698
11699
11700
11701
11702
11703
11704
11705
11706
11707
11708
11709
11710
11711
11712
11713
11714
11715
11716
11717
11718
11719
11720
11721
11722
11723
11724
11725
11726
11727
11728
11729
11730
11731
11732
11733
11734
11735
11736
11737
11738
11739
11740
11741
11742
11743
11744
11745
11746
11747
11748
11749
11750
11751
11752
11753
11754
11755
11756
11757
11758
11759
11760
11761
11762
11763
11764
11765
11766
11767
11768
11769
11770
11771
11772
11773
11774
11775
11776
11777
11778
11779
11780
11781
11782
11783
11784
11785
11786
11787
11788
11789
11790
11791
11792
11793
11794
11795
11796
11797
11798
11799
11800
11801
11802
11803
11804
11805
11806
11807
11808
11809
11810
11811
11812
11813
11814
11815
11816
11817
11818
11819
11820
11821
11822
11823
11824
11825
11826
11827
11828
11829
11830
11831
11832
11833
11834
11835
11836
11837
11838
11839
11840
11841
11842
11843
11844
11845
11846
11847
11848
11849
11850
11851
11852
11853
11854
11855
11856
11857
11858
11859
11860
11861
11862
11863
11864
11865
11866
11867
11868
11869
11870
11871
11872
11873
11874
11875
11876
11877
11878
11879
11880
11881
11882
11883
11884
11885
11886
11887
11888
11889
11890
11891
11892
11893
11894
11895
11896
11897
11898
11899
11900
11901
11902
11903
11904
11905
11906
11907
11908
11909
11910
11911
11912
11913
11914
11915
11916
11917
11918
11919
11920
11921
11922
11923
11924
11925
11926
11927
11928
11929
11930
11931
11932
11933
11934
11935
11936
11937
11938
11939
11940
11941
11942
11943
11944
11945
11946
11947
11948
11949
11950
11951
11952
11953
11954
11955
11956
11957
11958
11959
11960
11961
11962
11963
11964
11965
11966
11967
11968
11969
11970
11971
11972
11973
11974
11975
11976
11977
11978
11979
11980
11981
11982
11983
11984
11985
11986
11987
11988
11989
11990
11991
11992
11993
11994
11995
11996
11997
11998
11999
12000
12001
12002
12003
12004
12005
12006
12007
12008
12009
12010
12011
12012
12013
12014
12015
12016
12017
12018
12019
12020
12021
12022
12023
12024
12025
12026
12027
12028
12029
12030
12031
12032
12033
12034
12035
12036
12037
12038
12039
12040
12041
12042
12043
12044
12045
12046
12047
12048
12049
12050
12051
12052
12053
12054
12055
12056
12057
12058
12059
12060
12061
12062
12063
12064
12065
12066
12067
12068
12069
12070
12071
12072
12073
12074
12075
12076
12077
12078
12079
12080
12081
12082
12083
12084
12085
12086
12087
12088
12089
12090
12091
12092
12093
12094
12095
12096
12097
12098
12099
12100
12101
12102
12103
12104
12105
12106
12107
12108
12109
12110
12111
12112
12113
12114
12115
12116
12117
12118
12119
12120
12121
12122
12123
12124
12125
12126
12127
12128
12129
12130
12131
12132
12133
12134
12135
12136
12137
12138
12139
12140
12141
12142
12143
12144
12145
12146
12147
12148
12149
12150
12151
12152
12153
12154
12155
12156
12157
12158
12159
12160
12161
12162
12163
12164
12165
12166
12167
12168
12169
12170
12171
12172
12173
12174
12175
12176
12177
12178
12179
12180
12181
12182
12183
12184
12185
12186
12187
12188
12189
12190
12191
12192
12193
12194
12195
12196
12197
12198
12199
12200
12201
12202
12203
12204
12205
12206
12207
12208
12209
12210
12211
12212
12213
12214
12215
12216
12217
12218
12219
12220
12221
12222
12223
12224
12225
12226
12227
12228
12229
12230
12231
12232
12233
12234
12235
12236
12237
12238
12239
12240
12241
12242
12243
12244
12245
12246
12247
12248
12249
12250
12251
12252
12253
12254
12255
12256
12257
12258
12259
12260
12261
12262
12263
12264
12265
12266
12267
12268
12269
12270
12271
12272
12273
12274
12275
12276
12277
12278
12279
12280
12281
12282
12283
12284
12285
12286
12287
12288
12289
12290
12291
12292
12293
12294
12295
12296
12297
12298
12299
12300
12301
12302
12303
12304
12305
12306
12307
12308
12309
12310
12311
12312
12313
12314
12315
12316
12317
12318
12319
12320
12321
12322
12323
12324
12325
12326
12327
12328
12329
12330
12331
12332
12333
12334
12335
12336
12337
12338
12339
12340
12341
12342
12343
12344
12345
12346
12347
12348
12349
12350
12351
12352
12353
12354
12355
12356
12357
12358
12359
12360
12361
12362
12363
12364
12365
12366
12367
12368
12369
12370
12371
12372
12373
12374
12375
12376
12377
12378
12379
12380
12381
12382
12383
12384
12385
12386
12387
12388
12389
12390
12391
12392
12393
12394
12395
12396
12397
12398
12399
12400
12401
12402
12403
12404
12405
12406
12407
12408
12409
12410
12411
12412
12413
12414
12415
12416
12417
12418
12419
12420
12421
12422
12423
12424
12425
12426
12427
12428
12429
12430
12431
12432
12433
12434
12435
12436
12437
12438
12439
12440
12441
12442
12443
12444
12445
12446
12447
12448
12449
12450
12451
12452
12453
12454
12455
12456
12457
12458
12459
12460
12461
12462
12463
12464
12465
12466
12467
12468
12469
12470
12471
12472
12473
12474
12475
12476
12477
12478
12479
12480
12481
12482
12483
12484
12485
12486
12487
12488
12489
12490
12491
12492
12493
12494
12495
12496
12497
12498
12499
12500
12501
12502
12503
12504
12505
12506
12507
12508
12509
12510
12511
12512
12513
12514
12515
12516
12517
12518
12519
12520
12521
12522
12523
12524
12525
12526
12527
12528
12529
12530
12531
12532
12533
12534
12535
12536
12537
12538
12539
12540
12541
12542
12543
12544
12545
12546
12547
12548
12549
12550
12551
12552
12553
12554
12555
12556
12557
12558
12559
12560
12561
12562
12563
12564
12565
12566
12567
12568
12569
12570
12571
12572
12573
12574
12575
12576
12577
12578
12579
12580
12581
12582
12583
12584
12585
12586
12587
12588
12589
12590
12591
12592
12593
12594
12595
12596
12597
12598
12599
12600
12601
12602
12603
12604
12605
12606
12607
12608
12609
12610
12611
12612
12613
12614
12615
12616
12617
12618
12619
12620
12621
12622
12623
12624
12625
12626
12627
12628
12629
12630
12631
12632
12633
12634
12635
12636
12637
12638
12639
12640
12641
12642
12643
12644
12645
12646
12647
12648
12649
12650
12651
12652
12653
12654
12655
12656
12657
12658
12659
12660
12661
12662
12663
12664
12665
12666
12667
12668
12669
12670
12671
12672
12673
12674
12675
12676
12677
12678
12679
12680
12681
12682
12683
12684
12685
12686
12687
12688
12689
12690
12691
12692
12693
12694
12695
12696
12697
12698
12699
12700
12701
12702
12703
12704
12705
12706
12707
12708
12709
12710
12711
12712
12713
12714
12715
12716
12717
12718
12719
12720
12721
12722
12723
12724
12725
12726
12727
12728
12729
12730
12731
12732
12733
12734
12735
12736
12737
12738
12739
12740
12741
12742
12743
12744
12745
12746
12747
12748
12749
12750
12751
12752
12753
12754
12755
12756
12757
12758
12759
12760
12761
12762
12763
12764
12765
12766
12767
12768
12769
12770
12771
12772
12773
12774
12775
12776
12777
12778
12779
12780
12781
12782
12783
12784
12785
12786
12787
12788
12789
12790
12791
12792
12793
12794
12795
12796
12797
12798
12799
12800
12801
12802
12803
12804
12805
12806
12807
12808
12809
12810
12811
12812
12813
12814
12815
12816
12817
12818
12819
12820
12821
12822
12823
12824
12825
12826
12827
12828
12829
12830
12831
12832
12833
12834
12835
12836
12837
12838
12839
12840
12841
12842
12843
12844
12845
12846
12847
12848
12849
12850
12851
12852
12853
12854
12855
12856
12857
12858
12859
12860
12861
12862
12863
12864
12865
12866
12867
12868
12869
12870
12871
12872
12873
12874
12875
12876
12877
12878
12879
12880
12881
12882
12883
12884
12885
12886
12887
12888
12889
12890
12891
12892
12893
12894
12895
12896
12897
12898
12899
12900
12901
12902
12903
12904
12905
12906
12907
12908
12909
12910
12911
12912
12913
12914
12915
12916
12917
12918
12919
12920
12921
12922
12923
12924
12925
12926
12927
12928
12929
12930
12931
12932
12933
12934
12935
12936
12937
12938
12939
12940
12941
12942
12943
12944
12945
12946
12947
12948
12949
12950
12951
12952
12953
12954
12955
12956
12957
12958
12959
12960
12961
12962
12963
12964
12965
12966
12967
12968
12969
12970
12971
12972
12973
12974
12975
12976
12977
12978
12979
12980
12981
12982
12983
12984
12985
12986
12987
12988
12989
12990
12991
12992
12993
12994
12995
12996
12997
12998
12999
13000
13001
13002
13003
13004
13005
13006
13007
13008
13009
13010
13011
13012
13013
13014
13015
13016
13017
13018
13019
13020
13021
13022
13023
13024
13025
13026
13027
13028
13029
13030
13031
13032
13033
13034
13035
13036
13037
13038
13039
13040
13041
13042
13043
13044
13045
13046
13047
13048
13049
13050
13051
13052
13053
13054
13055
13056
13057
13058
13059
13060
13061
13062
13063
13064
13065
13066
13067
13068
13069
13070
13071
13072
13073
13074
13075
13076
13077
13078
13079
13080
13081
13082
13083
13084
13085
13086
13087
13088
13089
13090
13091
13092
13093
13094
13095
13096
13097
13098
13099
13100
13101
13102
13103
13104
13105
13106
13107
13108
13109
13110
13111
13112
13113
13114
13115
13116
13117
13118
13119
13120
13121
13122
13123
13124
13125
13126
13127
13128
13129
13130
13131
13132
13133
13134
13135
13136
13137
13138
13139
13140
13141
13142
13143
13144
13145
13146
13147
13148
13149
13150
13151
13152
13153
13154
13155
13156
13157
13158
13159
13160
13161
13162
13163
13164
13165
13166
13167
13168
13169
13170
13171
13172
13173
13174
13175
13176
13177
13178
13179
13180
13181
13182
13183
13184
13185
13186
13187
13188
13189
13190
13191
13192
13193
13194
13195
13196
13197
13198
13199
13200
13201
13202
13203
13204
13205
13206
13207
13208
13209
13210
13211
13212
13213
13214
13215
13216
13217
13218
13219
13220
13221
13222
13223
13224
13225
13226
13227
13228
13229
13230
13231
13232
13233
13234
13235
13236
13237
13238
13239
13240
13241
13242
13243
13244
13245
13246
13247
13248
13249
13250
13251
13252
13253
13254
13255
13256
13257
13258
13259
13260
13261
13262
13263
13264
13265
13266
13267
13268
13269
13270
13271
13272
13273
13274
13275
13276
13277
13278
13279
13280
13281
13282
13283
13284
13285
13286
13287
13288
13289
13290
13291
13292
13293
13294
13295
13296
13297
13298
13299
13300
13301
13302
13303
13304
13305
13306
13307
13308
13309
13310
13311
13312
13313
13314
13315
13316
13317
13318
13319
13320
13321
13322
13323
13324
13325
13326
13327
13328
13329
13330
13331
13332
13333
13334
13335
13336
13337
13338
13339
13340
13341
13342
13343
13344
13345
13346
13347
13348
13349
13350
13351
13352
13353
13354
13355
13356
13357
13358
13359
13360
13361
13362
13363
13364
13365
13366
13367
13368
13369
13370
13371
13372
13373
13374
13375
13376
13377
13378
13379
13380
13381
13382
13383
13384
13385
13386
13387
13388
13389
13390
13391
13392
13393
13394
13395
13396
13397
13398
13399
13400
13401
13402
13403
13404
13405
13406
13407
13408
13409
13410
13411
13412
13413
13414
13415
13416
13417
13418
13419
13420
13421
13422
13423
13424
13425
13426
13427
13428
13429
13430
13431
13432
13433
13434
13435
13436
13437
13438
13439
13440
13441
13442
13443
13444
13445
13446
13447
13448
13449
13450
13451
13452
13453
13454
13455
13456
13457
13458
13459
13460
13461
13462
13463
13464
13465
13466
13467
13468
13469
13470
13471
13472
13473
13474
13475
13476
13477
13478
13479
13480
13481
13482
13483
13484
13485
13486
13487
13488
13489
13490
13491
13492
13493
13494
13495
13496
13497
13498
13499
13500
13501
13502
13503
13504
13505
13506
13507
13508
13509
13510
13511
13512
13513
13514
13515
13516
13517
13518
13519
13520
13521
13522
13523
13524
13525
13526
13527
13528
13529
13530
13531
13532
13533
13534
13535
13536
13537
13538
13539
13540
13541
13542
13543
13544
13545
13546
13547
13548
13549
13550
13551
13552
13553
13554
13555
13556
13557
13558
13559
13560
13561
13562
13563
13564
13565
13566
13567
13568
13569
13570
13571
13572
13573
13574
13575
13576
13577
13578
13579
13580
13581
13582
13583
13584
13585
13586
13587
13588
13589
13590
13591
13592
13593
13594
13595
13596
13597
13598
13599
13600
13601
13602
13603
13604
13605
13606
13607
13608
13609
13610
13611
13612
13613
13614
13615
13616
13617
13618
13619
13620
13621
13622
13623
13624
13625
13626
13627
13628
13629
13630
13631
13632
13633
13634
13635
13636
13637
13638
13639
13640
13641
13642
13643
13644
13645
13646
13647
13648
13649
13650
13651
13652
13653
13654
13655
13656
13657
13658
13659
13660
13661
13662
13663
13664
13665
13666
13667
13668
13669
13670
13671
13672
13673
13674
13675
13676
13677
13678
13679
13680
13681
13682
13683
13684
13685
13686
13687
13688
13689
13690
13691
13692
13693
13694
13695
13696
13697
13698
13699
13700
13701
13702
13703
13704
13705
13706
13707
13708
13709
13710
13711
13712
13713
13714
13715
13716
13717
13718
13719
13720
13721
13722
13723
13724
13725
13726
13727
13728
13729
13730
13731
13732
13733
13734
13735
13736
13737
13738
13739
13740
13741
13742
13743
13744
13745
13746
13747
13748
13749
13750
13751
13752
13753
13754
13755
13756
13757
13758
13759
13760
13761
13762
13763
13764
13765
13766
13767
13768
13769
13770
13771
13772
13773
13774
13775
13776
13777
13778
13779
13780
13781
13782
13783
13784
13785
13786
13787
13788
13789
13790
13791
13792
13793
13794
13795
13796
13797
13798
13799
13800
13801
13802
13803
13804
13805
13806
13807
13808
13809
13810
13811
13812
13813
13814
13815
13816
13817
13818
13819
13820
13821
13822
13823
13824
13825
13826
13827
13828
13829
13830
13831
13832
13833
13834
13835
13836
13837
13838
13839
13840
13841
13842
13843
13844
13845
13846
13847
13848
13849
13850
13851
13852
13853
13854
13855
13856
13857
13858
13859
13860
13861
13862
13863
13864
13865
13866
13867
13868
13869
13870
13871
13872
13873
13874
13875
13876
13877
13878
13879
13880
13881
13882
13883
13884
13885
13886
13887
13888
13889
13890
13891
13892
13893
13894
13895
13896
13897
13898
13899
13900
13901
13902
13903
13904
13905
13906
13907
13908
13909
13910
13911
13912
13913
13914
13915
13916
13917
13918
13919
13920
13921
13922
13923
13924
13925
13926
13927
13928
13929
13930
13931
13932
13933
13934
13935
13936
13937
13938
13939
13940
13941
13942
13943
13944
13945
13946
13947
13948
13949
13950
13951
13952
13953
13954
13955
13956
13957
13958
13959
13960
13961
13962
13963
13964
13965
13966
13967
13968
13969
13970
13971
13972
13973
13974
13975
13976
13977
13978
13979
13980
13981
13982
13983
13984
13985
13986
13987
13988
13989
13990
13991
13992
13993
13994
13995
13996
13997
13998
13999
14000
14001
14002
14003
14004
14005
14006
14007
14008
14009
14010
14011
14012
14013
14014
14015
14016
14017
14018
14019
14020
14021
14022
14023
14024
14025
14026
14027
14028
14029
14030
14031
14032
14033
14034
14035
14036
14037
14038
14039
14040
14041
14042
14043
14044
14045
14046
14047
14048
14049
14050
14051
14052
14053
14054
14055
14056
14057
14058
14059
14060
14061
14062
14063
14064
14065
14066
14067
14068
14069
14070
14071
14072
14073
14074
14075
14076
14077
14078
14079
14080
14081
14082
14083
14084
14085
14086
14087
14088
14089
14090
14091
14092
14093
14094
14095
14096
14097
14098
14099
14100
14101
14102
14103
14104
14105
14106
14107
14108
14109
14110
14111
14112
14113
14114
14115
14116
14117
14118
14119
14120
14121
14122
14123
14124
14125
14126
14127
14128
14129
14130
14131
14132
14133
14134
14135
14136
14137
14138
14139
14140
14141
14142
14143
14144
14145
14146
14147
14148
14149
14150
14151
14152
14153
14154
14155
14156
14157
14158
14159
14160
14161
14162
14163
14164
14165
14166
14167
14168
14169
14170
14171
14172
14173
14174
14175
14176
14177
14178
14179
14180
14181
14182
14183
14184
14185
14186
14187
14188
14189
14190
14191
14192
14193
14194
14195
14196
14197
14198
14199
14200
14201
14202
14203
14204
14205
14206
14207
14208
14209
14210
14211
14212
14213
14214
14215
14216
14217
14218
14219
14220
14221
14222
14223
14224
14225
14226
14227
14228
14229
14230
14231
14232
14233
14234
14235
14236
14237
14238
14239
14240
14241
14242
14243
14244
14245
14246
14247
14248
14249
14250
14251
14252
14253
14254
14255
14256
14257
14258
14259
14260
14261
14262
14263
14264
14265
14266
|
<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN"
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd">
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
<head>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" />
<title>Women of Modern France, by Hugo P. Thieme.</title>
<style type="text/css">
<!--
body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
p {text-align: justify;}
blockquote {text-align: justify;}
h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center;}
h5,h6 {text-align: left;}
pre {font-size: 0.7em;}
.sc {font-variant: small-caps;}
hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;}
html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;}
hr.full {width: 100%;}
html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;}
hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;}
html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;}
span.pagenum
{position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;}
td.chap {text-align: right; vertical-align: top;}
td.page {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;}
.poem
{margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;}
.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
.poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
.poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;}
.poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;}
.poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;}
.poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;}
.poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;}
p.author {text-align: right; margin-right:10%;}
p.index {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
div.trans-note {border-style: solid; border-width: 1px;
margin: 2em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: center;}
-->
</style>
</head>
<body>
<pre>
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Women of Modern France, by Hugo P. Thieme
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Women of Modern France
Woman In All Ages And In All Countries
Author: Hugo P. Thieme
Release Date: November 26, 2005 [EBook #17159]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WOMEN OF MODERN FRANCE ***
Produced by Thierry Alberto, William Flis and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team Europe at http://dp.rastko.net
</pre>
<div class="trans-note">
Transcriber's Note: The Table of Contents was added by the Transcriber.
</div>
<hr class="full" />
<h2>WOMAN</h2>
<h3>In all ages and in all countries</h3>
<h1>WOMEN OF MODERN FRANCE</h1>
<h4>by</h4>
<h4>HUGO P. THIEME, Ph.D.</h4>
<h4>Of the University of Michigan</h4>
<h4>THE RITTENHOUSE PRESS<br />
PHILADELPHIA</h4>
<hr />
<center>Copyrighted at Washington and entered at Stationer's Hall, London,</center>
<center>1907–1908</center>
<center>and printed by arrangement with George Barrie's Sons.</center>
<center>PRINTED IN U.S.A.</center>
<hr />
<h3>Contents</h3>
<table width="80%" align="center" summary="Contents">
<tr><td></td><td>PREFACE</td><td class="page"> <a href="#pagevii">vii</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter I.
</td><td>Woman in politics</td><td class="page"><a href="#page1">1</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter II.
</td><td>Woman in Family Life, Education, and Letters</td><td class="page"><a href="#page31">31</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter III.
</td><td>The Seventeenth Century: Woman at Her Best</td><td class="page"><a href="#page69">69</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter IV.
</td><td>Woman in Society and Literature</td><td class="page"><a href="#page97">97</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter V.
</td><td>Mistresses and Wives of Louis XIV</td><td class="page"><a href="#page131">131</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter VI.
</td><td>Mme. de Sévigné, Mme. de La Fayette, Mme. Dacier, Mme. de Caylus</td><td class="page"><a href="#page165">165</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter VII.
</td><td>Woman in Religion</td><td class="page"><a href="#page197">197</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter VIII.
</td><td>Salon Leaders: Mme. de Tencin, Mme. Geoffrin, Mme. du Deffand, Mlle. de Lespinasse,
Mme. du Châtelet</td><td class="page"><a href="#page221">221</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter IX.
</td><td>Salon Leaders—(Continued):
Mme. Necker, Mme. d'Epinay, Mme. de Genlis: Minor Salons
</td><td class="page"><a href="#page249">249</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter X.
</td><td>Social Classes</td><td class="page"><a href="#page277">277</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter XI.
</td><td>Royal Mistresses</td><td class="page"><a href="#page305">305</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter XII.
</td><td>Marie Antoinette and the Revolution</td><td class="page"><a href="#page329">329</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter XIII.
</td><td>Women of the Revolution and the Empire</td><td class="page"><a href="#page355">355</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap">Chapter XIV.
</td><td>Women of the Nineteenth Century</td><td class="page"><a href="#page381">381</a></td></tr>
</table>
<hr />
<span class="pagenum"><a name="pagevii" id="pagevii"></a>[pg vii]</span>
<h3>PREFACE</h3>
<p>Among the Latin races, the French race differs essentially
in one characteristic which has been the key to the
success of French women—namely, the social instinct.
The whole French nation has always lived for the present
time, in actuality, deriving from life more of what may be
called social pleasure than any other nation. It has been
a universal characteristic among French people since the
sixteenth century to love to please, to make themselves
agreeable, to bring joy and happiness to others, and to be
loved and admired as well. With this instinctive trait
French women have always been bountifully endowed.
Highly emotional, they love to charm, and this has become
an art with them; balancing this emotional nature is
the mathematical quality. These two combined have made
French women the great leaders in their own country and
among women of all races. They have developed the art
of studying themselves; and the art of coquetry, which
has become a virtue, is a science with them. The singular
power of discrimination, constructive ability, calculation,
subtle intriguing, a clear and concise manner of expression,
a power of conversation unequalled in women of any other
country, clear thinking: all these qualities have been
strikingly illustrated in the various great women of the
different periods of the history of France, and according
to these they may by right be judged; for their moral
<span class="pagenum"><a name="pageviii" id="pageviii"></a>[pg viii]</span>
qualities have not always been in accordance with the standard of other races.</p>
<p>According as these two fundamental qualities, the emotional
and mathematical, have been developed in individual
women, we meet the different types which have
made themselves prominent in history. The queens of
France, in general, have been submissive and pious, dutiful
and virtuous wives, while the mistresses have been
bold and frivolous, licentious and self-assertive. The
women outside of these spheres either looked on with
indifference or regret at the all-powerfulness of this latter
class, unable to change conditions, or themselves enjoyed
the privilege of the mistress.</p>
<p>It must be remembered that in the great social circles in
France, especially from the sixteenth to the end of the
eighteenth centuries, marriage was a mere convention,
offences against it being looked upon as matters concerning
manners, not morals; therefore, much of the so-called
gross immorality of French women may be condoned. It
will be seen in this history that French women have acted
banefully on politics, causing mischief, inciting jealousy
and revenge, almost invariably an instrument in the hands
of man, acting as a disturbing element. In art, literature,
religion, and business, however, they have ever been a
directing force, a guide, a critic and judge, an inspiration
and companion to man.</p>
<p>The wholesome results of French women's activity are
reflected especially in art and literature, and to a lesser
degree in religion and morality, by the tone of elegance,
politeness, <i>finesse</i>, clearness, precision, purity, and a general
high standard which man followed if he was to succeed.
In politics much severe blame and reproach have
been heaped upon her—she is made responsible for breaking
treaties, for activity in all intrigues, participating in and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="pageix" id="pageix"></a>[pg ix]</span>
inciting to civil and foreign wars, encouraging and sanctioning
assassinations and massacres, championing the Machiavelian
policy and practising it at every opportunity.</p>
<p>It has been the aim of this history of French women to
present the results rather than the actual happenings of
their lives, and these have been gathered from the most
authoritative and scholarly publications on the subject,
to which the writer herewith wishes to give all credit.</p>
<p class="author sc">Hugo Paul Thieme.</p>
<p><i>University of Michigan.</i></p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page1" id="page1"></a>[pg 1]</span>
<h2>Chapter I</h2>
<h2>Woman in politics</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" id="page3"></a>[pg 3]</span>
<p>French women of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and
eighteenth centuries, when studied according to the distinctive
phases of their influence, are best divided into
three classes: those queens who, as wives, represented
virtue, education, and family life; the mistresses, who
were instigators of political intrigue, immorality, and vice;
and the authoresses and other educated women, who constituted
themselves the patronesses of art and literature.</p>
<p>This division is not absolute by any means; for we see
that in the sixteenth century the regent-mother (for example,
Louise of Savoy and Catherine de' Medici), in
extent of influence, fills the same position as does the mistress
in the eighteenth century; though in the former
period appears, in Diana of Poitiers, the first of a long line
of ruling mistresses.</p>
<p>Queen-consorts, in the sixteenth as in the following
centuries, exercised but little influence; they were, as a
rule, gentle and obedient wives—even Catherine, domineering
as she afterward showed herself to be, betraying
no signs of that trait until she became regent.</p>
<p>The literary women and women of spirit and wit furthered
all intellectual and social development; but it was
the mistresses—those great women of political schemes
and moral degeneracy—who were vested with the actual
importance, and it must in justice to them be said that
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page4" id="page4"></a>[pg 4]</span>
they not infrequently encouraged art, letters, and mental expansion.</p>
<p>Eight queens of France there were during the sixteenth
century, and three of these may be accepted as types of
purity, piety, and goodness: Claude, first wife of Francis I.;
Elizabeth of France, wife of Charles IX.; and Louise de
Vaudemont, wife of Henry III. These queens, held up to
ridicule and scorn by the depraved followers of their husbands'
mistresses, were reverenced by the people; we find
striking contrasts to them in the two queens-regent, Louise
of Savoy and Catherine de' Medici, who, in the period of
their power, were as unscrupulous and brutal, intriguing
and licentious, jealous and revengeful, as the most wanton
mistresses who ever controlled a king. In this century,
we find two other remarkable types: Marguerite d'Angoulême,
the bright star of her time; and her whose name
comes instantly to mind when we speak of the Lady of
Angoulême—Marguerite de Navarre, representing both the
good and the doubtful, the broadest sense of that untranslatable
term <i>femme d'esprit</i>.</p>
<p>The first of the royal French women to whom modern
woman owes a great and clearly defined debt was Anne of
Brittany, wife of Louis XII. and the personification of all
that is good and virtuous. To her belongs the honor of
having taken the first step toward the social emancipation
of French women; she was the first to give to woman an
important place at court. This precedent she established
by requesting her state officials and the foreign ambassadors
to bring their wives and daughters when they paid their
respects to her. To the ladies themselves, she sent a
"royal command," bidding them leave their gloomy feudal
abodes and repair to the court of their sovereign.</p>
<p>Anne may be said to belong to the transition period—that
period in which the condition of slavery and obscurity
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page5" id="page5"></a>[pg 5]</span>
which fettered the women of the Middle Ages gave place
to almost untrammelled liberty. The queen held a separate
court in great state, at Blois and Des Tournelles, and here
elegance, even magnificence, of dress was required of her
ladies. At first, this unprecedented demand caused discontent
among men, who at that time far surpassed women
in elaborateness of costume and had, consequently, been
accustomed to the use of their surplus wealth for their
own purposes. Under Anne's influence, court life underwent
a complete transformation; her receptions, which
were characterized by royal splendor, became the centre of attraction.</p>
<p>Anne of Brittany, the last queen of France of the Middle
Ages and the first of the modern period, was a model of
virtuous conduct, conjugal fidelity, and charity. Having
complete control over her own immense wealth, she used
it largely for beneficent purposes; to her encouragement
much of the progress of art and literature in France was
due. Hers was an example that many of the later queens
endeavored to follow, but it cannot be said that they ever
exerted a like influence or exhibited an equal power of
initiation and self-assertion.</p>
<p>The first royal woman to become a power in politics in
the period that we are considering was Louise of Savoy,
mother of Francis I., a type of the voluptuous and licentious
female of the sixteenth century. Her pernicious
activity first manifested itself when, having conceived a
violent passion for Charles of Bourbon, she set her heart
upon marrying him, and commenced intrigues and plots
which were all the more dangerous because of her almost
absolute control over her son, the King.</p>
<p>At this time there were three distinct sets or social
castes at the court of France: the pious and virtuous band
about the good Queen Claude; the lettered and elegant
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page6" id="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span>
belles in the coterie of Marguerite d'Angoulême, sister of
Francis I.; and the wanton and libertine young maids who
formed a galaxy of youth and beauty about Louise of
Savoy, and were by her used to fascinate her son and
thus distract him from affairs of state.</p>
<p>Louise used all means to bring before the king beautiful
women through whom she planned to preserve her influence
over him. One of these frail beauties, Françoise
de Foix, completely won the heart of the monarch; her
ascendency over him continued for a long period, in spite
of the machinations of Louise, who, when Francis escaped
her control, sought to bring disrepute and discredit upon the fair mistress.</p>
<p>The mother, however, remained the powerful factor in
politics. With an abnormal desire to hoard money, an
unbridled temper, and a violent and domineering disposition,
she became the most powerful and dangerous, as
well as the most feared, woman of all France. During
her regency the state coffers were pillaged, and plundering
was carried on on all sides. One of her acts at this
time was to cause the recall of Charles of Bourbon, then
Governor of Milan; this measure was taken as much for
the purpose of obtaining revenge for his scornful rejection
of her offer of marriage as for the hope of eventually bringing him to her side.</p>
<p>Upon the return of Charles, she immediately began plotting
against him, including in her hatred Françoise de Foix,
the king's mistress, at whom Bourbon frequently cast looks
of pity which the furiously jealous Louise interpreted as
glances of love. As a matter of fact, Bourbon, being strictly
virtuous, was out of reach of temptation by the beauties of
the court, and there were no grounds for jealousy.</p>
<p>This love of Louise for Charles of Bourbon is said to
have owed most of its ardor to her hope of coming into
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page7" id="page7"></a>[pg 7]</span>
possession of his immense estates. She schemed to have
his title to them disputed, hoping that, by a decree of Parliament,
they might be taken from him; the idea in this
procedure was that Bourbon, deprived of his possessions,
must come to her terms, and she would thus satisfy—at
one and the same time—her passion and her cupidity.</p>
<p>Under her influence the character of the court changed
entirely; retaining only a semblance of its former decency,
it became utterly corrupt. It possessed external elegance
and <i>distingué</i> manners, but below this veneer lay intrigue,
debauchery, and gross immorality. In order to meet the
vast expenditures of the king and the queen-mother, the
taxes were enormously increased; the people, weighed
down by the unjust assessment and by want, began to
clamor and protest. Undismayed by famine, poverty, and
epidemic, Louise continued her depredations on the public
treasury, encouraging the king in his squanderings; and
both mother and son, in order to procure money, begged, borrowed, plundered.</p>
<p>Louise was always surrounded by a bevy of young
ladies, selected beauties of the court, whose natural charms
were greatly enhanced by the lavishness of their attire.
Always ready to further the plans of their mistress, they
hesitated not to sacrifice reputation or honor to gratify her
smallest whim. Her power was so generally recognized
that foreign ambassadors, in the absence of the king, called
her "that other king." When war against France broke
out between Spain and England, Louise succeeded in gaining
the office of constable for the Duc d'Alençon; by this
means, she intended to displace Charles of Bourbon (whom
she was still persecuting because he continued cold to her
advances), and to humiliate him in the presence of his
army; the latter design, however, was thwarted, as he did not complain.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page8" id="page8"></a>[pg 8]</span>
<p>To the caprice of Louise of Savoy were due the disasters
and defeats of the French army during the period of
her power; by frequently displacing someone whose actions
did not coincide with her plans, and elevating some
favorite who had avowed his willingness to serve her, she
kept military affairs in a state of confusion.</p>
<p>Many wanton acts are attributed to her: she appropriated
forty thousand crowns allowed to Governor Lautrec
of Milan for the payment of his soldiers, and caused the
execution of Samblancay, superintendent of finances, who
had been so unfortunate as to incur her displeasure. It
was Charles of Bourbon, who, with Marshal Lautrec, investigated
the episode of the forty thousand crowns and
exposed the treachery and perfidy of the mother of his king.</p>
<p>Finding that Bourbon intended to persist in his resistance
to her advances, Louise decided upon drastic measures of
retaliation. With the assistance of her chancellor (and
tool), Duprat, she succeeded in having withheld the salaries
which were due to Bourbon because of the offices held
by him. As he took no notice of these deprivations, she
next proceeded to divest him of his estates by laying claim
to them for herself; she then proposed to Bourbon that,
by accepting her hand in marriage, he might settle the
matter happily. The object of her numerous schemes not
only rejected this offer with contempt, but added insult to
injury by remarking: "I will never marry a woman devoid
of modesty." At this rebuff, Louise was incensed beyond
measure, and when Queen Claude suggested Bourbon's
marriage to her sister, Mme. Renée de France (a union to
which Charles would have consented gladly), the queen-mother
managed to induce Francis I. to refuse his consent.</p>
<p>After the death of Anne of Beaujeu, mother-in-law of
Charles of Bourbon, her estates were seized by the king
and transferred to Louise while the claim was under
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page9" id="page9"></a>[pg 9]</span>
consideration by Parliament. When the judges, after an
examination of the records of the Bourbon estate, remonstrated
with Chancellor Duprat against the illegal transfer,
he had them put into prison. This rigorous act, which
was by order of Louise, weakened the courage of the
court; when the time arrived for a final decision, the judges
declared themselves incompetent to decide, and in order to
rid themselves of responsibility referred the matter to the
king's council. This great lawsuit, which was continued
for a long time, eventually forced Charles of Bourbon to
flee from France. Having sworn allegiance to Charles V.
of Spain and Henry VIII. of England against Francis I., he
was made lieutenant-general of the imperial armies.</p>
<p>When Francis, captured at the battle of Pavia, was
taken to Spain, Louise, as regent, displayed unusual diplomatic
skill by leaguing the Pope and the Italian states with
Francis against the Spanish king. When, after nearly a
year's captivity, her son returned, she welcomed him with
a bevy of beauties; among them was a new mistress, designed
to destroy the influence of the woman who had so
often thwarted the plans of Louise—the beautiful Françoise
de Foix whom the king had made Countess of Châteaubriant.</p>
<p>This new beauty was Anne de Pisseleu, one of the
thirty children of Seigneur d'Heilly, a girl of eighteen,
with an exceptional education. Most cunning was the
trap which Louise had set for the king. Anne was surrounded
by a circle of youthful courtiers, who hung upon
her words, laughed at her caprices, courted her smiles;
and when she rather confounded them with the extent
of the learning which—with a sort of gay triumph—she
was rather fond of showing, they pronounced her "the
most charming of learned ladies and the most learned of the charming."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page10" id="page10"></a>[pg 10]</span>
<p>The plot worked; Francis was fascinated, falling an
easy prey to the wiles of the wanton Anne. The former
mistress, Françoise de Foix, was discarded, and Louise,
purely out of revenge and spite, demanded the return of
the costly jewels given by the king and appropriated them herself.</p>
<p>The duty assigned to the new mistress was that of
keeping Francis busy with fêtes and other amusements.
While he was thus kept under the spell of his enchantress,
he lost all thought of his subjects and the welfare of his
country and the affairs of the kingdom fell into the hands
of Louise and her chancellor, Duprat. The girl-mistress,
Anne, was married by Louise to the Duc d'Etampes whose
consent was gained through the promise of the return of
his family possessions which, upon his father's departure
with Charles of Bourbon, had been confiscated.</p>
<p>The reign of Louise of Savoy was now about over; she
had accomplished everything she had planned. She had
caused Charles of Bourbon, one of the greatest men of the
sixteenth century, to turn against his king; and that king
owed to her—his mother—his defeat at Pavia, his captivity
in Spain, and his moral fall. Spain, Italy, and
France were victims of the infamous plotting and disastrous
intrigues of this one woman whose death, in 1531,
was a blessing to the country which she had dishonored.</p>
<p>At the time of the marriage of Francis I. to Eleanor of
Portugal (one of the last acts of Louise), Europe was beginning
to look upon France as ahead of all other nations
in the "superlativeness of her politeness." The most
rigid etiquette and the most punctilious politeness were
always observed, fines being imposed for any discourtesy toward women.</p>
<p>After the death of Louise, the lot of managing the king
and directing his policy fell to the share of his mistress,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page11" id="page11"></a>[pg 11]</span>
the Duchesse d'Etampes, who at once became all-powerful
at court; her influence over him was like that of the drug
which, to the weak person who begins its use, soon becomes
an absolute necessity.</p>
<p>After the death of the dauphin, all the court flatteries
were directed toward Henry, the eldest son of Francis.
Though his mistress, Diana of Poitiers, ruled him, she exercised
no influence politically; that she was not lacking in
diplomacy, however, was proved by her attitude toward
Henry's wife, Catherine, whom she treated with every
indication of friendship and esteem, in marked contrast to
the disdain exhibited by other ladies of the court. These
two women became friends, working together against the
mistress of the king—the Duchesse d'Etampes—and
causing, by their intrigues, dissensions between father and son.</p>
<p>The duchess was not a bad woman; her dissuasion of
Francis I. from undertaking war with Solyman II. against
Charles V. is one instance of the use of her influence in
the right direction. By some historians, she is accused of
having played the traitress, in the interest of Emperor
Charles V., during the war of Spain and England against
France. It was she who urged the Treaty of Crépy with
Charles V.; by it, through the marriage of the French
king's second son, the Duke of Orleans, to the niece of
Charles V., the duchess was sure of a safe retreat when
her bitter enemy, Henry's mistress, should reign after the
king's death. Her plans, however, did not materialize, as
the duke died and the treaty was annulled.</p>
<p>The death of Francis I. occurred in 1547; with his reign
ends the first period of woman's activity—a period influenced
mainly by Louise of Savoy, whose relations to
France were as disastrous as were those of any mistress.
The influence exerted by her may in some respects be
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page12" id="page12"></a>[pg 12]</span>
compared with that of Mme. de Pompadour; though, were
the merits and demerits of both carefully tested, the results
would hardly be in favor of Louise. Strong in diplomacy
and intrigue, she was unscrupulous and wanton—morally
corrupt; she did nothing to further the development of
literature and art; if she favored men of genius it was
merely from motives of self-interest.</p>
<p>With the accession of Henry II. his mistress entered into
possession of full power. The absolute sway of Diana of
Poitiers over this weakest of French kings was due to
her strong mind, great ability, wide experience, fascination
of manner, and to that exceptional beauty which she
preserved to her old age. Immediately upon coming into
power, she dispatched the Duchesse d'Etampes to one of
her estates and at the same time forced her to restore the
jewels which she had received from Francis I., a usual
procedure with a mistress who knew herself to be first in authority.</p>
<p>After being thus displaced, the duchess spent her time
in doing charitable work, and is said to have afforded protection
to the Protestants. Eventually, hers was the fate
of almost all the mistresses. Compelled to give up many
of her possessions, miserable and forgotten by all, her last
days were most unhappy.</p>
<p>Early in her career, Henry made Diana Duchesse de
Valentinois. So powerful did she become that Sieur de
Bayard, secretary of state, having referred in jest to her
age (she was twenty years the king's senior), was deprived
of his office, thrown into prison, and left to die. In
her management of Queen Catherine, Diana was most
politic; she never interfered, but constituted herself "the
protectress of the legitimate wife, settling all questions
concerning the newly born," for which she received a
large salary. When, while the king was in Italy, the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page13" id="page13"></a>[pg 13]</span>
queen became ill, she owed her recovery to the watchful
care of the mistress. The latter appointed to the vacant
estates and positions members of her house—that of Guise.
In time, this house gained such an ascendency that it
conceived the project of setting aside all the princes of the blood royal.</p>
<p>Having (through one of her favorites) gained control of
the royal treasury, Diana appropriated everything—lands,
money, jewels. Her influence was so astonishing to the
people that she was accused of wielding a magic power
and bewitching the king who seemed, verily, to be leading
an enchanted existence; he had but one thought, one aim—that
of pleasing and obeying his aged mistress. To
make amends for his adultery, he concluded to extirpate
heretics. Such a combination of luxury and extravagance
with licentiousness and brutality, such wholesale murder,
persecution, and burning at the stake have never been
equalled, except under Nero.</p>
<p>Michelet reveals the character of Diana in these words:
"Affected by nothing, loving nothing, sympathizing with
nothing; of the passions retaining only those which will
give a little rapidity to the blood; of the pleasures preferring
those that are mild and without violence—the love of
gain and the pursuit of money; hence, there was absence
of soul. Another phase was the cultivation of the body,
the body and its beauty uniquely cared for by virile treatment
and a rigid régime which is the guardian of life—not
weakly adored as by women who kill themselves by excessive
self-love." M. Saint-Amand continues, after quoting
the above: "At all seasons of the year, Diana plunges
into a cold bath on rising. As soon as day breaks, she
mounts a horse, and, followed by swift hounds, rides
through dewy verdure to her royal lover to whom—fascinated
by her mythological pomp—she seems no more a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page14" id="page14"></a>[pg 14]</span>
woman but a goddess. Thus he styles her in verses of burning tenderness:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"'Hélas, mon Dieu! combien je regrette</p>
<p>Le temps que j'ai perdu en ma jeunesse!</p>
<p>Combien de fois je me suis souhaité</p>
<p>Avoir Diane pour ma seule maîtresse.</p>
<p>Mais je craignais qu'elle, qui est déesse,</p>
<p>Ne se voulût abaisser jusque là.'"</p>
</div> </div>
<p>[Alas, my God! how much I regret the time lost in my
youth! How often have I longed to have Diana for my only
mistress! But I feared that she who is a goddess would
not stoop so low as that.]</p>
<p>Catherine remained quietly in the palace, preferring her
position, unpleasant as it was, to the persecution and possible
incarceration in a convent which would result from
any interference on her part between the king and his
mistress. Without power or privileges, she was a mere
figurehead—a good mother looking after her family. However,
she was not idle; without taking part in the intrigues,
she was studying them—planning her future tactics; in
all relations she was diplomatic, her conversation ever
displaying exquisite tact.</p>
<p>While France groaned under the burdens of seemingly
interminable wars and exorbitant taxes, her king revelled
in excessive luxury; the aim of his favorite mistress
seemed to be to acquire wealth and spend it lavishly for
her own pleasure. Voluptuousness, cruelty, and extravagance
were the keynotes of the time. All means were
used to procure revenues, the king easing any pangs of
conscience by burning a few heretics whose estates were
then quickly confiscated.</p>
<p>Diana, even at the age of sixty, still held Henry in her
toils; an easy prey for the wiles of the flatterer, he was
kept in ignorance of the hatred and anger heaping up against
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page15" id="page15"></a>[pg 15]</span>
him. In the midst of riotous festivity, Henry II. died, a
victim of the lance of Montgomery; and the twelve years'
reign of debauchery, cruelty, and shameless extravagance came to an end.</p>
<p>Whatever else may be said of Diana, she proved to be a
liberal patroness of art and letters; this was possible for her,
since, in addition to inherited wealth and the gifts of lands
and jewels from the king, she procured the possessions of
many heretics whose confiscated wealth was assigned to
her as a faithful servant and supporter of the church.</p>
<p>Her hotel at Anet was one of the most elaborate, tasteful,
and elegant in all France; there the finest specimens
of Italian sculpture, painting, and woodwork were to be
seen. The king, upon making her a duchess, presented
her with the beautiful château of Chenonceaux, which
was so much coveted by Catherine. The latter attempted
to make Diana pay for the château, thus interrupting her
plans for building; upon discovering this, Henry sent his
own artists and workmen to carry out Diana's desires.
Such was the power of his mistress over the weak king
that he respected her wishes far more than he did those
of his queen. This was one of those instances in which
Catherine saw fit to remain silent and plan revenge.</p>
<p>The death of Diana of Poitiers was that common to all
women of her position. She died in 1566, forgotten by
the world—her world. In her will she made "provision for
religious houses, to be opened to women of evil lives, as if,
in the depth of her conscience, she had recognized the likeness
between their destiny and her own." Like the former
mistresses, she had been required to give up the jewels received
from Henry II.; but as this order was from Francis II.
instead of from his mistress, the gems were returned to
the crown after having passed successively through the
hands of three mistresses.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page16" id="page16"></a>[pg 16]</span>
<p>Catherine's time had not yet come, for she dared not
interfere when Mary Stuart (a beautiful, inexperienced,
and impetuous girl of seventeen) gained ascendency over
Francis II.—a mere boy. The house of Guise was then
supreme and began its bloody campaign against its enemies;
fortunately, however, its power was short-lived, for
in 1560 the king died after reigning only seventeen months.
At this point, Catherine enters upon the scene of action.
Jealous of Mary Stuart and fearing that the young king,
Charles IX., then but ten years old, might become infatuated
with her and marry her, she promptly returned the fair young woman to Scotland.</p>
<p>The task before the regent was no light one; her kingdom
was divided against itself, the country was overburdened
with taxes, and discontent reigned universally. All
who surrounded her were full of prejudice and actuated
solely by personal aspirations—she realized that she could trust no one.</p>
<p>Her first act of a political nature was to rescue the house
of Valois and solidify the royal authority. Some critics
maintain that she began her reign with moderation, gentleness,
impartiality, and reconciliation. This view finds
support in the fact that during the first years she favored
Protestantism; finding, however, that the latter was weakening
royal power and that the country at large was opposed
to it, she became its most bitter enemy. To the
Protestants and their plottings she attributed all the
disastrous effects of the civil war, all thefts, murders,
incests, and adulteries, as well as the profanation of
the sepulchres of the ancestors of the royal family, the
burning of the bones of Louis XI. and of the heart of Francis II.</p>
<p>The Machiavellian policy was Catherine's guide; bitter
experience had robbed her of all faith in humanity—she
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page17" id="page17"></a>[pg 17]</span>
had learned to despise it and the judgment of her contemporaries.
At first she was amiable and polite, seemingly
intent upon pleasing those with whom she talked; in fact,
it is said that she was then more often accused of excessive
mildness and moderation than of the violence and cruelty
which later characterized her. Experience having taught
her how to deal with people, she never lost her self-control.</p>
<p>Subsequent history shows that any gentle and conciliatory
policy of Catherine was merely a method of furthering
her own interests, and was therefore not the outcome of
any inborn feeling of sympathy or womanly tenderness.
Whether her signing of the Edict of Saint-Germain, admitting
the Protestants to all employments and granting
them the privilege of Calvinistic worship in two cities of
every province, and her refusal, upon the urgent solicitations
of her son-in-law, Philip II., to persecute heretics
were really snares laid for the Huguenots, is a matter
which historians have not decided.</p>
<p>Inasmuch as the entire history of France plays about
the personality of Catherine de' Medici, no attempt will
be made to give a detailed chronological account of her
career; the results, rather than the events themselves,
will be given. M. Saint-Amand, in his work on <i>French
Women of the Valois Court</i>, presents one of the strongest
pictures drawn of Catherine. We shall follow him in the
greater part of this sketch.</p>
<p>According to some historians, Catherine was a mere
intriguer, without talent or ability, living but in the moment,
often caught in her own snares; according to others,
by her intelligence, ability, and strength of character she
advanced a cause truly national—that of French unity;
thus, she worked either the ruin or the salvation of France.
Michelet calls her a nonentity, a stage queen with merely
the externals—the attire—of royalty, remaining exactly on
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page18" id="page18"></a>[pg 18]</span>
a level with the rulers of the smaller Italian principalities,
contriving everything and fearing everything, with no more
heart than she had sense or temperament. Being a female,
she loved her young; she loved the arts, but cared to cultivate
only their externalities. In this, however, Michelet
goes to an extreme; for no woman ever lived who had so
great a talent for intrigues and politics as she—a very type
of the deceit and cunning which were inherent in her race.
If she were not important, had not wielded so much influence
and decided the fate of so many great men, women,
and even states, she would not be the subject of so much
writing, of such fierce denunciation and strong praise. To
her family, France owes her finest palaces, her masterpieces
of art—painting, bookmaking, printing, binding, sculpture.</p>
<p>M. Saint-Amand declares that "isolated from her contemporaries,
Catherine de' Medici is a monster; brought
back within the circle of their passions and their theories,
she once more becomes a woman." But Catherine was
the instigator, the embodiment of all that is vice, deceit,
cunning, trickery, wickedness, and bold intrigue; she set
the example, and her ladies followed her in all that she
did; "the heroines bred in her school (and what woman
was not in her school?) imitate, with docility, the examples
she gives them." She was not only the type of her
civilization,—brutal, gross, immoral, elegant, polished, and
<i>mondain</i>,—but she was also its leader.</p>
<p>Greatness of soul, real moral force, strict virtue, are not
attributes of the sixteenth-century woman—they are isolated
and rare exceptions; these Catherine did not possess.
Nor was she influenced deeply by her environments; the
latter but encouraged and developed those qualities which
were hers inherently,—will, intelligence, inflexible perseverance,
tenacity of purpose, unscrupulousness, cruelty;
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page19" id="page19"></a>[pg 19]</span>
hence, to say "She is the victim rather than the inspiration
of the corruption of her time" is misleading, to say the
least. If, upon her arrival at court, "she at once pleased
every one by her grace and affability, modest air, and,
above all, by her extreme gentleness," she could not have
changed, say her defenders, into the perfidious, wicked,
and cruel creature she is said to have become as soon
as she stepped into power. "During the reign of Henry II.,
she wisely avoided all danger; faithful to her wifely duties,
she gave no cause for scandal, and, realizing that she was
not strong enough to overcome her all-powerful rival, she
bided her time. She was loved and respected by everyone
for her personal qualities and her benevolence." But why
may it not be true that all this was but part of her politics,
the politics in which she had been educated? Wise from
experience, she foresaw the future and what was in store
for her if she remained prudent and made the best of the
surroundings until the time should come when she could
strike suddenly and boldly.</p>
<p>Brought up from infancy amidst snares, intrigues, the
clash of arms, the furious shouts of popular insurrections,
tempests, and storms, she could not escape the influence
of her early environment. Her talent for studying and
penetrating the designs of her enemies, for facing or avoiding
dangers with such sublime calmness and prudence, was
partly inherited, partly acquired. That spirit she took
with her to France, where her experience was widened
and her opportunities for the study of human nature were increased.</p>
<p>It is not generally known that her mother was a French
woman—a Madeleine de La Tour d'Auvergne, daughter
of Jean, Count of Boulogne, and Catherine of Bourbon,
daughter of the Count of Vendôme; thus, her gentler nature
was a French product. Her mother and father both
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page20" id="page20"></a>[pg 20]</span>
died when she was but twenty-two days old, and from
that time until her marriage she was cast about from place
to place. But from the very first she showed that talent
of adapting herself to her surroundings, living amidst intrigues
and discords and yet making friends. She has
been called "the precocious heiress of the craftiness of her progenitors."</p>
<p>In her thirteenth year, after being sought by many
powerful princes, Clement VII. (her greatuncle), in order
to secure himself against the powerful Charles V., married
her to Henry, Duke of Orleans, the second son of Francis
I. Even at that early age she was fully aware of all
the dreariness and danger attached to positions of power,
and knew that the art of governing was not an easy one.
She had studied Machiavelli's famous work, <i>The Prince</i>,
which had been dedicated to her father, and it was from it,
as well as from her ancestors, that she derived her wisdom
and astuteness. Her childhood had prepared her for the
work of the future, and she went at it with caution and
reserve until she was sure of her ground.</p>
<p>She first proceeded to study the king, Francis I., watching
his actions, extracting his secrets; a fine huntress and
at his side constantly, she pleased him and gained his
favor. Brantôme says she was subtle and diplomatic,
quickly learning the craft of her profession; she sought
friends among all classes and ranks, directing her overtures
specially toward the ladies of the court, whom she
soon won and gathered about her.</p>
<p>In 1536 the dauphin died, and Catherine's husband became
heir to the throne of France. Though they had been
married three years, no offspring had resulted, which unfortunate
circumstance made her position a most uncertain
one, especially as Diana of Poitiers was then at the height
of her power, controlling Henry absolutely. A furious
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page21" id="page21"></a>[pg 21]</span>
rivalry sprang up between the Duchesse d'Etampes, mistress
of Francis I., and Diana and Catherine; the two
mistresses formed two parties, and a war of slanders, calumnies,
and unpleasant epigrams ensued. Queen Eleanor,
the second wife of Francis I., took no active part, thus leaving
all power in the hands of the mistress of her husband.
(It was at this time that the Emperor Charles V. gained the
Duchesse d'Etampes over to his cause.) Poets and artists,
politicians and men of genius took sides, extolling the
beauty of the one they championed. Catherine, although
befriended and treated with apparent respect by Diana,
remained a good friend to both women, thus evincing her
tact. By keeping her own personality in the background,
she won the esteem of both her husband and the king.</p>
<p>Brantôme leaves a picture of Catherine at this time:
"She was a fine and ample figure; very majestic, yet
agreeable and very gentle when necessary; beautiful and
gracious in appearance, her face fair and her throat white
and full, very white in body likewise.... Moreover,
she dressed superbly, always having some pretty innovation.
In brief, she had beauties fitted to inspire love. She
laughed readily, her disposition was jovial, and she liked
to jest." M. Saint-Amand continues: "The artistic elegance
that surrounded her whole person, the tranquil and
benevolent expression of her countenance, the good taste
of her dress, the exquisite distinction of her manners, all
contributed to her charm. And then she was so humble
in the presence of her husband! She so carefully avoided
whatever might have the semblance of reproach! She
closed her eyes with such complaisance! Henry told
himself that it would be difficult to find another woman
so well-disposed, another wife so faithful to her duties,
another princess so accomplished in point of instruction
and intelligence. The <i>ménage à trois</i> (household of three)
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page22" id="page22"></a>[pg 22]</span>
was continued, therefore, and if the dauphin loved his mistress,
he certainly had a friendship for his wife. And,
on her part, whenever she felt an inclination to complain
of her lot, Catherine bethought herself that if she quitted
her position she would probably find no refuge but the
cloister, and that—taking it all around—the court of France
(in spite of the humiliations and vexations one might experience
there) was an abode more desirable than a convent;"
this, then, is the secret of her submission. In
spite of her beauty, mildness, and distinction of manner,
she could not overcome the prestige of Diana.</p>
<p>After nine years, Catherine was still without children
and began to fear the fate in store for her; but when she
gave birth to a son in 1543, she felt assured that divorce
no longer threatened her and she resolved that as soon as
she came into power she would be revenged upon her enemies
and Diana of Poitiers. When, in 1547, her husband
succeeded his father as King of France, she did not feel
that the time had yet arrived to interfere in any social or
domestic arrangements or affairs of state; not until ten
years later did she show the first sign of remarkable
statesmanship or ability as a politician.</p>
<p>After the battle and capture of Saint-Quentin, France
was in a most deplorable state; the enemy was believed
to be beneath the walls of Paris; everybody was fleeing;
the king had gone to Compiègne to muster a new army.
Catherine was alone in Paris "and of her own free will
went to the Parliament in full state, accompanied by the
cardinals, princes, and princesses; and there, in the most
impressive language, she set forth the urgent state of
affairs at the moment.... With so much sentiment
and eloquence that she touched the heart of everybody,
the queen then explained to the Parliament that the king
had need of three hundred thousand livres, twenty-five
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page23" id="page23"></a>[pg 23]</span>
thousand to be paid every two months; and she added
that she would retire from the place of session, so as not
to interfere with the liberty of discussion; accordingly, she
retired to another room. A resolution to comply with the
wishes of her majesty was voted, and the queen, having
resumed her place, received a promise to that effect. A
hundred nobles of the city offered to give at once three thousand
francs apiece. The queen thanked them in the sweetest
form of words, and thus terminated this session of Parliament—with
so much applause for her majesty and such
lively marks of satisfaction at her behavior, that no idea can
be given of them. Throughout the city, nothing was spoken
of but the queen's prudence and the happy manner in which
she proceeded in this enterprise" (Guizot). From this act
dates Catherine's entrance into political consideration.</p>
<p>During the reign of Francis II., Catherine de' Medici
exercised no influence at court, the king being completely
under the dominion of his wife and the Duke of Guise,
who was not favorable to the queen-mother's schemes
and policies. Catherine, however, was plotting; caring
little about religion so long as it did not further her plans,
she connected herself with the Huguenots; her scheme
was to bring the Guises to destruction and to form a council
of regency which, while composed of the Huguenot
leaders, was to be under her guidance. As this plan
failed, bringing ruin to many princes, she deserted the
Huguenots and allied herself with the Catholics.</p>
<p>She is next found attempting the assassination of the
Duke of Condé, but she failed to accomplish that crime
because her son, the king, refused his consent. Soon
after, Francis II. died, it is said from the effect of poison
dropped into his ear while he was sleeping; it is probable
that this crime was committed at the instigation of the
mother, since by his death and the accession of Charles IX.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page24" id="page24"></a>[pg 24]</span>
she became regent (1560). She was then all-powerful
and in a position to exercise her long dormant talents.</p>
<p>Her first plan was to incapacitate all her children by
plunging them "into such licentious pleasure and voluptuous
dissipation that they were speedily unfitted for mental
activity or exertion." Most unprejudiced historians credit
her with the Massacre of Saint Bartholomew; she is said
to have boasted about it to Catholic governments and excused
it to Protestant powers. For a number of years, she
had been planning the destruction of the Huguenot princes,
and as early as 1565 she and Charles IX. had an interview
with the Duke of Alva (representative of Philip II), to consult
as to the means of delivering France from heretics.
It was decided that "this great blessing could not have
accomplishment save by the deaths of all the leaders of the Huguenots."</p>
<p>That fearful crime, the bloody Massacre of Saint Bartholomew,
is familiar to everyone. The only excuse
offered for this most heinous of Catherine's many offences
is her intense sentiment of national unity; the actual reason
for it is to be sought in the fact that as long as the
Protestants retained their prestige and influence, Catherine
and her Catholic party could not do as they pleased, could
not gain absolute control over the government. History
holds her more responsible than it does her weak son.
The climax came on the occasion of the wedding of Marguerite
of Valois with the Prince of Navarre, which meant
the union of the branches—the Catholic and the Protestant.
This resulted in the first breach between the king and
Catherine; the latter at that time perpetrated one of her
dastardly deeds by poisoning the mother of the Prince of
Navarre—Jeanne d'Albret, her bitter enemy.</p>
<p>After the death of Charles IX., Henry III. was the sole
survivor of the four sons of Catherine. Although her
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page25" id="page25"></a>[pg 25]</span>
power was limited during his reign, she managed to continue
her murderous plans and accomplished the death of
Henry of Guise and his brother the cardinal, which crime
united the majority of the Catholics of France against the
king and was the cause of his assassination in 1589. This
ended the power of Catherine de' Medici; when she died,
no one rejoiced, no one lamented. Wherever she had
turned her eyes, she had seen nothing but occasions for
uneasiness and sadness; she had retired from court, feeling
her helplessness and disgrace as well as the decline in
power of that son in whom her hopes were centred. She
decided to reënter the scene of action and save Henry.
The stormy scenes of the Barricades and the League and
the murder of the Duke of Guise hastened her death, which occurred in 1589.</p>
<p>Catherine de' Medici may rightfully be called the initiator
and organizer of social and court etiquette and courtesy—of
conventional and social laws. However great her political
activity, she made herself deeply felt in the social and
moral worlds also. She taught her husband the secret of
being king; she introduced the <i>lever</i> audience; in the afternoon
of every day, she held a reunion of all the ladies of
the court, at which the king was to be found after dinner
and every lord entertained the lady he most loved; two
hours were spent in this pleasure which was continued
after supper if there were no balls; bitter railleries and
anything that passed the restrictions of good company were forbidden.</p>
<p>Her ladies of honor obeyed her as they would their God.
Marguerite of Valois said of her: "I did not dare to speak
to her, and when she looked at me I trembled for fear of
having done something that displeased her." Ladies who
had been delinquent were stripped and beaten with lashes;
for correction—frequently for mere pastime—she would
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page26" id="page26"></a>[pg 26]</span>
have them undressed and slapped vigorously with the back
of the hand. Françoise of Rohan, cousin of Jeanne d'Albret,
wrote the following poem:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"Plus j'ai de toi souvent esté battue,</p>
<p>Plus mon amour s'efforce et s'évertue</p>
<p>De regretter ceste main qui me bat;</p>
<p>Car ce mal-là m'estait plaisant esbat.</p>
<p>Or, adieu done la main dont la rigueur</p>
<p>Je préferais à tout bien et honneur."</p>
</div> </div>
<p>[The more often I have been struck by you, the more my
love struggles and strives to regret the hand that beats
me; for that punishment was a pleasant pastime for me.
Now farewell to the hand whose rigor I preferred to every fortune and honor.]</p>
<p>The following portrait and poetry, taken from M. Saint-Amand,
does the subject full justice: "Catherine de' Medici
represented with a sinister glance, deadly mien, mysterious
and savage aspect—a spectre, not a woman—is not true
to nature. Her self-possession, cool cunning, supreme
elegance, imperturbable tranquillity, calmness, moderation,
noble serenity, and dignified poise, gave her an individuality
such as few women ever possessed. Gentle in crime
and tragedy, polite like an executioner toward his victim—this
Machiavellianism which is equal to every trial, which
nothing alarms or surprises, and which with tranquil dexterity
makes sport of every law of morality and humanity—this
is the real character of Catherine de' Medici." The
following burlesque poetry was composed for her:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"La reine qui ci-git fut un diable et un ange,</p>
<p>Toute pleine de blâme et pleine de louange,</p>
<p>Elle soutint l'Etat, et l'Etat mit à bas;</p>
<p>Elle fit maints accords et pas moins de débats;</p>
<p>Elle enfanta trois rois et trois guerres civiles,</p>
<p>Fit bâtir des châteaux et ruiner des villes,</p>
<p>Fit bien de bonnes lois et de mauvais édits.</p>
<p>Souhaite-lui, passant, enfer et paradis."</p>
</div> </div>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page27" id="page27"></a>[pg 27]</span>
<p>[The queen lying here was both devil and angel, blamed
and praised; she both put down and upheld the state; she
caused many an agreement and no end of disputes; she
produced three kings and three civil wars; she built castles
and ruined cities, made many good laws and many bad
decrees. Wish her, passer-by, hell and paradise.]</p>
<p>With the reign of Henry IV.—the first king of the house
of Bourbon, and the first king of the sixteenth century
with a will of his own and the courage to assert it—begins
a period of revelling, debauch, and the most depraved
immorality. Three mistresses in turn controlled him—morally, not politically.</p>
<p>Henry was master of his own will, and, had he desired
to do so, could have overcome his evil tendencies; instead,
he openly countenanced and even encouraged dissoluteness
and elegant debauchery, as long as he himself was not
deprived of the lady upon whom his capricious fancy happened
to fall. His advances were but seldom repulsed;
but upon making his usual audacious proposals to the
Marquise de Guercheville, he was informed that she was
of too insignificant a house to be the king's wife and of
too good a race to be his mistress; and when the king, in
spite of this rebuff, made her lady of honor to his wife,
Marie de' Medici, she continued to resist him and remained
virtuous. Such types of purity, honor, and moral courage
were very exceptional during this reign.</p>
<p>The three principal mistresses of this sovereign represent
three phases of influence and three periods of his life.
Corisande d'Andouins, Comtesse de Guiche and Duchesse
de Gramont, fascinated him for eight years, while he was
King of Navarre (1582-1590); to her he was deeply attached,
and recompensed her for her devotion; this is
called his <i>chevaleresque</i> period. The beautiful Gabrielle
d'Estrées, Duchesse de Beaufort, was called his mate after
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page28" id="page28"></a>[pg 28]</span>
victory; "she refined, sharpened, softened, and tamed his
customs; she made him king of the court instead of the
field." It was she who ventured to meddle in his politics,
she whom Marguerite of Valois, his wife, so detested that
she refused to consent to a divorce as long as Gabrielle
(by whom he had several children) remained his mistress.
The latter even went so far as to demand the baptism, as
a child of France, of her son by the king. Sully, in a rage,
declared there were no "children of France," and took the
order to the king, who had it destroyed; he then asked
his minister to go to his mistress and satisfy her, "in so
far as you can." To his efforts she replied: "I am aware
of all, and do not care to hear any more; I am not made
as the king is, whom you persuade that black is white."
Upon receiving this report, the king said: "Here, come
with me; I will let you see that women have not the
possession of me that certain malignant spirits say they
have." Accompanied by Sully, he immediately went to
the Duchesse de Beaufort, and, taking her by the hand,
said: "Now, madame, let us go into your room, and let
nobody else enter except Rosny. I want to speak to you
both and teach you how to be good friends." Then, having
closed the door, holding Gabrielle with one hand and Rosny
with the other, he said: "Good God, madame! What is
the meaning of this? So you would vex me from sheer
wantonness of heart in order to try my patience? By
God, I swear to you that, if you continue these fashions
of going on, you will find yourself very much out in your
expectations! I see quite well that you have been put up
to all this pleasantry in order to make me dismiss a servant
whom I cannot do without, and who has served me loyally
for five-and-twenty years. By God, I will do nothing of
the kind! And I declare to you that if I were reduced to
such a necessity as to choose between losing one or the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page29" id="page29"></a>[pg 29]</span>
other, I could better do without ten mistresses like you
than one servant like him." Shortly after this episode,
Gabrielle died so suddenly that she was supposed to have
been poisoned. Immediately after her death the divorce
was granted, and Henry married Marie de' Medici.</p>
<p>The third mistress, Henriette de Balzac d'Entragues,
Marquise de Verneuil, who led Henry IV. along a path of
the worst debauchery, gained control over him by lewd,
lascivious methods. While negotiations were being carried
on for his divorce from Marguerite, only a few weeks after
the death of Gabrielle, he signed a promise to marry Henriette;
this, however, he failed to keep. She, more than
any other of his mistresses, was the cause of national distress
and of more than one ruinous war. When, after the
marriage of the king to Marie de' Medici, Henriette began
to nag, rail, intrigue, and conspire, she was disgraced by
Henry, who at least had the courage to honor his own
family above that of his mistresses. She is accused of
having had, solely from motives of revenge, a hand in the death of the king.</p>
<p>Thus, around the queens-regent and the mistresses of
the kings of France in the sixteenth century there is constant
intriguing, murder, assassination, immorality, and
debauchery, jealousy and revenge, marriage and divorce,
honor and disgrace, despotism and final repentance and
misery. The greatest and lowest of these women was
Catherine de' Medici; Diana of Poitiers was famed as the
most marvellously beautiful woman in France, and she was
the most powerful and intelligent mistress until the time of
Mme. de Pompadour. Amid all this bribery and corruption,
elegant and refined immorality, there are some few types
that represent education, family life, purity, and culture.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page31" id="page31"></a>[pg 31]</span>
<h2>Chapter II</h2>
<h2>Woman in Family Life, Education, and Letters</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page33" id="page33"></a>[pg 33]</span>
<p>The queens of France exerted little or no influence upon
the cultural or political development of that country.
Frequently of foreign extraction and reared in the strict
religious discipline of Catholicism, they spent their time
in attending masses, aiding the poor and, with the little
money allowed them, erecting hospitals and other institutions
for the weak and needy. Thus, they are, as a rule,
types of gentleness, virtue, piety, and self-sacrifice.</p>
<p>The little information which history gives concerning
them is confined mainly to their matrimonial alliances.
To them, marriage represented nothing more than a contract—a
union entered into for the purpose of settling
some political negotiation; thus they were often cast upon
strange and unfriendly soil where intrigues and jealousy
immediately affected them.</p>
<p>Seldom did they venture to interfere with the intrigues
of the mistress; in their uncertain position, any manifestation
of resentment or opposition resulted in humiliation
and disgrace; if wise, they contented themselves with
quietly performing their functions as dutiful wives. Such
women were Claude, daughter of Louis XII., and Eleanor
of Spain—wives of Francis I.; lacking the power to act
politically, both passed uneventful and virtuous lives in comparative obscurity.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page34" id="page34"></a>[pg 34]</span>
The wife of Charles IX.—Elizabeth of Austria, daughter
of Maximilian II.—had absolutely no control over her husband;
however, he condescended to flatter himself with
having, as he said, "in an amiable wife, the wisest and
most virtuous woman not only of France and Europe, but
of the universe." Her nature is well portrayed in the
answer she gave to the remark made to her, after the death
of her husband: "Ah, Madame, what a misfortune that
you have no son! Your lot would be less pitiful and you
would be queen-mother and regent." "Alas, do not suggest
such a disagreeable thing!" she replied. "As if
France had not afflictions enough without my producing
another to complete its ruin! For, if I had a son, there
would be more divisions and troubles, more seditions to
obtain the administration and guardianship during his infancy
and minority; all would try to profit themselves by
despoiling the poor child—as they wanted to do with the
late king, my husband." Returning to Austria, she erected
a convent, treated the nuns as friends and refused to marry
again even to ascend the throne of Spain.</p>
<p>Louise de Vaudemont, wife of Henry III, was a French
woman by birth and blood. After the death of the Princess
of Condé, whom he passionately loved and desired to
marry, Henry conceived an intense affection for Louise,
daughter of Nicholas of Lorraine, Count of Vaudemont—a
young lady of education and culture—"a character of exquisite
sweetness lends distinction to her beauty and her
piety; her thorough Christian modesty and humility are
reflected in her countenance." Brantôme wrote: "This
princess deserves great praise; in her married life she
comported herself so wisely, chastely, and loyally toward
the king that the nuptial tie which bound her to him always
remained firm and indissoluble,—was never found loosened
or undone,—even though the king liked and sometimes
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page35" id="page35"></a>[pg 35]</span>
procured a change, according to the custom of the great
who keep their full liberty." Soon after the marriage,
however, Henry began to make life unpleasant for the
queen, one of his petty acts being to deprive her of the
moral ladies in waiting whom she had brought with her.</p>
<p>Louise de Vaudemont was a striking contrast to the perverted
woman of the day; the latter, no longer charmed
by the gentler emotions, sought the exaggerated and
the eccentric, extraordinary incidents, dramatic situations,
unexpected crises, finding all amusements insipid unless
they involved fighting and romantic catastrophes. "<i>Billets
doux</i> were written in blood and ferocity reigned even in pleasure."</p>
<p>In the midst of this turmoil, Louise busied herself with
charity, appearing among the poor and distributing all the
funds which her father gave her for pocket money; the
evils of her surroundings threw her virtues, by contrast,
into so much the brighter light. Though she held herself
aloof from intrigues and rivalries, favoring no one and
encouraging no slander, she was, strange to say, respected,
admired and honored by Protestants and Catholics alike.</p>
<p>Calumny and all the agitations about her did not disturb
Louise in her prayers. "The waves of the angry ocean
broke at the foot of the altar as the queen knelt; but
Huguenots and Catholics, leaguers and royalists, united
to pay her homage. They were amazed to see such
purity in an atmosphere so corrupt, such gentleness in a
society so violent. Their eyes rested with satisfaction on
a countenance whose holy tranquillity was undisturbed by
pride and hatred. The famous women of the century,
wretched in spite of all their amusements and their feverish
pursuit of pleasure, made salutary reflections as they contemplated
a woman still more highly honored for her
virtues than for her crown." That she was not a mother
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page36" id="page36"></a>[pg 36]</span>
was, with her, an enduring sorrow; even that, however,
did not alter her calmness and benign resignation.</p>
<p>Louise de Vaudemont was indeed a bright star in a
heaven of darkness—one of the best queens of whom
French history can boast; she is an example of goodness
and gentleness, of purity, charity, and fidelity in a world
of corruption, cruelty, hatred, and debauch—where sympathy
was rare and chastity was ridiculed. Although a
highly educated woman, the faithful performance of her
duties as queen and as a devout Catholic left her little
time for literature and art; she remains the type of piety
and purity—an ideal queen and woman.</p>
<p>A heroine in the fullest sense of that word was Jeanne
d'Albret, the great champion of Protestantism; she was
the mother of Henry IV. and the wife of the Duke of
Bourbon, Count of Vendôme, a direct descendant of Saint
Louis. This despotic, combative, and war-loving queen
reigned as absolute monarch, and was as autocratic and
severe as Calvin himself, confiscating church property,
destroying pictures and altars—even going so far as to
forbid the presence of her subjects at mass or in religious
processions. "Her natural eloquence, the lightning flashes
from her eyes, her reputation as a Spartan matron and an
intractable Calvinist, all contributed to give her great influence
with her party. The military leaders—Coligny,
La Rochefoucauld, Rohan, La Noue—submitted their plans of campaign to her."</p>
<p>Though Jeanne was, perhaps, as fanatical, intolerant,
and cruel as her adversaries, she was driven to this by the
hostility shown her by the Catholic party—a party in
which she felt she could place no confidence. Her retreat
was amid rocks and inaccessible peaks, whence she defied
both the pope and Philip II. She brought up her son—the
future Henry IV.—among the children of the people,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page37" id="page37"></a>[pg 37]</span>
exercising toward him the severest discipline, and inuring
him to the cold of the winter and the heat of the summer;
she taught him to be judicious, sincere, and compassionate—qualities
which she possessed to a remarkable degree.
Chaste and pure herself, she considered the court of
France a hotbed of voluptuousness and debauchery, and at
every opportunity strengthened herself against its possible influence.</p>
<p>The political and religious troubles of Jeanne d'Albret
began when Pope Paul IV. invested Philip II. of Spain
with the sovereignty of Navarre—her territory; she resisted,
and, following the impulses of her own nature,
formally embraced Calvinism, while her weak husband
acceded to the commands of the Church, and, applying to
the pope for the annulment of his marriage, was prepared,
as lieutenant-general of the kingdom, a position he accepted
from the pontiff, to deprive his wife of her possessions.
His death before the realization of his project made
it possible for Jeanne to retain her sovereignty; alone, an
absolute monarch, she declared Calvinism the established
religion of Navarre. After the assassination of Condé she
remained the champion of the Huguenots, defying her
enemies and scorning the court of France.</p>
<p>So great were her power and influence over the soldiery
that Catherine de' Medici, her bitter enemy, desiring to
bring her into her power, or, at least, to conciliate her,
planned a marriage between Jeanne's son and Marguerite
of Valois—sister of Charles IX. When the suggestion
that the marriage should take place came from the king of
France, Jeanne d'Albret suspected an ambush; with the
determination to supervise personally all arrangements for
the nuptials, she set out for the French court. Venerated
by the Protestants, and hated but admired by the Catholics,
she had become celebrated throughout Europe for
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page38" id="page38"></a>[pg 38]</span>
her beauty, intelligence, and strength of mind; thus, her
arrival at Paris created a sensation.</p>
<p>She was so scandalized at the luxury and bold debauchery
at court that she decided to give up the marriage; she
had detected the intrigues and falsity of both the king and
Catherine, and had a foreboding of evil. She wrote to her son Henry:</p>
<p>"Your betrothed is beautiful, very circumspect and
graceful, but brought up in the worst company that ever
existed (for I do not see a single one who is not infected
by it) ... I would not for anything have you come
here to live; this is why I desire you to marry and withdraw
yourself and your wife from this corruption which
(bad as I supposed it to be) I find still worse than I
thought. Here, it is not the men who invite the women,
but the women who invite the men. If you were here,
you could not escape contamination without a great grace from God."</p>
<p>In the meantime, Catherine, undecided whether to strike
immediately or to wait, was redoubling her kindness and
courtesy and her affectionate overtures; her enemies were
in her hands. Although Jeanne suspected that Catherine
was capable of every perfidy, she at times believed that
her suspicions were unjust or exaggerated. The situation
between these two great women was indeed a dramatic
one: both were tactful, powerful, experienced in war and
diplomacy; both were mothers with children for whose
future they sought to provide. Jeanne's hesitancy, however,
was fatal; physically exhausted from suffering and
sorrow, worry and excitement, she suddenly died, in the
midst of her preparations for the marriage. While it is
not absolutely certain that her death was due to poison,
subsequent events lead strongly to the belief that Catherine
was instrumental in causing it—that, probably, being
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page39" id="page39"></a>[pg 39]</span>
but the first act toward the awful catastrophe she was planning.</p>
<p>"A few hours before her agony, Jeanne dictated the
provisions of her will. She recommended her son to remain
faithful to the religion in which she had reared him,
never to permit himself to be lured by voluptuousness and
corruption, and to banish atheists, flatterers, and libertines....
She begged him to take his sister, Catherine,
under his protection and to be, after God, her father.
'I forbid my son ever to use severity towards his sister; I
wish, to the contrary, that he treat her with gentleness
and kindness; and that—above all—he have her brought
up in Béarn, and that she shall never leave there until she
is old enough to be married to a prince of her own rank
and religion, whose morals shall be such that the spouses
may live happily together in a good and holy marriage.'"
D'Aubigné wrote of her: "A princess with nothing of a
woman but sex—with a soul full of everything manly,
a mind fit to cope with affairs of moment, and a heart invincible in adversity."</p>
<p>It was in deep mourning that her son, then King of Navarre,
arrived at Paris; the eight hundred gentlemen who
attended him were all likewise in mourning. "But," says
Marguerite de Valois, "the nuptials took place in a few
days, with triumph and magnificence that none others, of
even my quality, had ever beheld. The King of Navarre
and his troop changed their mourning for very rich and
fine clothes, I being dressed royally, with crown and corsage
of tufted ermine all blazing with crown jewels, and,
the grand blue mantle with a train four ells long borne by
three princesses. The people down below, in their eagerness
to see us as we passed, choked one another." (Thus
quickly was Jeanne d'Albret forgotten.) The ceremonies
were gorgeous, lasting four days; but when Admiral
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page40" id="page40"></a>[pg 40]</span>
Coligny, the Huguenot leader, was struck in the hand by a
musket ball, the festive aspect of affairs suddenly changed.
On the second day after the wounding of Coligny, and
before the excitement caused by that act had subsided,
Catherine accomplished the crowning work of her invidious
nature, the tragedy of Saint Bartholomew.</p>
<p>Peace and quiet never appeared upon the countenance
of Catherine de' Medici—that woman who so faithfully
represents and pictures the period, the tendencies of which
she shaped and fostered by her own pernicious methods;
and Charles IX., her son, was no better than his mother.
Saint-Amand, in his splendid picture of the period, gives
a truthful picture of Catherine as well: "It is interesting
to observe how curiously the later Valois represented
their epoch. Francis I. had personified the Renaissance;
Charles IX. sums up in himself all the crises of the religious
wars—he is the true type of the morbid and disturbed
society where all is violent; where the blood is scorched
by the double fevers of pleasure and cruelty; where the
human soul, without guide or compass, is tossed amid
storms; where fanaticism is joined to debauchery, superstition
to incredulity, cultured intelligence to depravity of
heart. This wholly unbalanced character—which stretches
evil to its utmost limits while preserving the knowledge of
what is good, which mistrusts everybody and yet has at least
the aspiration toward friendship and love, if not its experience—is
it not the symbol and living image of its time?"</p>
<p>Marguerite de Valois, sister of Charles IX. and wife of
Henry IV., by her own actions and intrigues exercised
little influence politically; she was, above all else, a woman
of culture and may be taken as an example of the type
which was largely instrumental in developing social life in
France. Famous for her beauty, talents, and profligacy,
it seems that historians are prone to dwell too exclusively
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page41" id="page41"></a>[pg 41]</span>
upon the last quality, overlooking her principal rôle—that of social leader.</p>
<p>She first came into prominence through her relations
with the Duke of Guise who paid assiduous court to her
for some time; for a while, no topic was more discussed
than that of their marriage. When, however, Charles IX.
heard that the duke had been carrying on a secret correspondence
with his sister, he exclaimed, savagely: "If it
be so, we will kill him!" Thereupon, the duke hurriedly
contracted a marriage with Catherine of Clèves. That
Marguerite, at this early date, had become the mistress of
Henry of Guise is hardly likely and becomes even less
probable when it is considered how closely she was watched
by her mother, Catherine de' Medici.</p>
<p>Her marriage, previously mentioned, to Henry of Navarre
was a mere political match, there being absolutely
no love, no affection, no sympathy. This union was
looked upon as the surest covenant of peace between
Catholicism and Protestantism and put an end to the disastrous
religious wars that had been carried on uninterruptedly
for years; both the parties to this contract lived
at court, leading an existence of pleasure and immorality.
Remarkably intelligent, Marguerite was a scholar of no
mean ability; she displayed much wit and talent, but
no judgment or discretion; though conveying the impression
of being rather haughty and proud, she lacked both
self respect and true dignity. Her beauty was marvellous,
but "calculated, to ruin and damn men rather than to save them."</p>
<p>Henry, the husband of Marguerite, was constantly
sneered at and taunted by the Catholics; although Catholic
in name he was Protestant at heart and keenly felt
his false position. During Catherine's short term as
queen-regent, he was held in captivity until the arrival of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page42" id="page42"></a>[pg 42]</span>
Henry III., when he escaped to his own Béarn people;
for this, Marguerite was held responsible and kept under guard.</p>
<p>Although hating his religion, his wife went to live with
him, tolerating his infidelities while he refused to tolerate
her religion. The unhappiness of this marriage was not
due to Marguerite alone; the first trouble arose when she
discovered his love for his mistress, Gabrielle d'Estrées,
and, thinking herself equally privileged, she began to indulge
in the same excesses. The result of so many annoyances
and debaucheries, so much vexation, was an illness; as
soon as she became convalescent, she returned to her
mother at court where she speedily gained the ill will of
the king by her profligate habits, her quarrels with both
Catholics and Protestants, her intimacy with the Duke of
Guise, her plottings with her younger brother, her cutting
satires on court favorites.</p>
<p>She was sent back to Henry, upon the way meeting
with the mishap of being insulted by archers and, with
her maids, led away prisoner. Her husband was with difficulty
persuaded to receive her, and, finding him all attentive
to his mistress, Marguerite fled to Agen, where she
made war upon him as a heretic; unable to hold her position
there on account of her licentious manner of living
and the exorbitant taxes imposed upon the inhabitants, she
fled again and continued moving from one place to another,
causing mischief everywhere, "consuming the remainder
of her youth in adventures more worthy of a woman who
had abandoned her husband than of a daughter of France."
At last, she was seized and imprisoned in the fortress of
Usson; here she was supported mainly by Elizabeth of
Austria, widow of Charles IX.</p>
<p>When her husband became King of France, he refused
to liberate her until she should renounce her rank; to this
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page43" id="page43"></a>[pg 43]</span>
condition she refused to accede until after the death of
her rival, the mistress of Henry—Gabrielle d'Estrées,
Duchess de Beaufort. After the annulment of the marriage,
Marguerite said: "If our household has been little
noble and less bourgeois, our divorce was royal." She
was permitted to retain the title of queen, her debts were
paid and other great concessions granted. Her subsequent
relations with Henry IV. were very cordial and fraternal;
she even revealed political plots to him.</p>
<p>When, after nearly twenty years of captivity, Marguerite
returned to Paris (1605), she gained the favor of
everybody—the king, dauphin, and court ladies. She
was present at the coronation of Marie de' Medici, and, by
being tactful enough to keep apart from all intrigues, quarrels,
and jealousies, she managed to win the good will of
the king's favorites. She became the social leader, the
queen inviting her to all court ceremonies and consulting
her on all disputed questions of etiquette—even going so
far as to intrust her with the reception of the Duke of
Pastrana, who had come to ask the hand of Elizabeth
of France. It is reported that in her last years she led
a worse life than in her earlier days—she had become a
woman of the bad world, resorting to every possible means
to hide her age and to gain any vantage ground. In order
to be well supplied with blond wigs, she kept fair-haired
footmen who were shorn from time to time to furnish the
supply. In the latter part of her life, spent at Paris and
its vicinity, she fell a victim to hypochondria, suffering
the most bitter pangs of remorse and terrible fear at
approaching death. To alleviate this, she founded a convent
where she taught the children music. She died
in 1615, in Paris, "in that blended piety and coquetry
which formed the basis of a character unable to give up gallantries and love."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page44" id="page44"></a>[pg 44]</span>
<p>One of the very few historians who give due credit to
her social importance and assign her the position she may
rightfully command among French women of the sixteenth
century is M. Du Bled. According to him, she was the leader
of fashion, and in all its components she showed excellent
taste and judgment. Forced to marry the king of Navarre,
she said, after the ceremony: "I received from marriage
all the evil I ever received, and I consider it the greatest
plague of my life. They tell me that marriages are made
in heaven; heaven did not commit such an injustice;" and
this seems to be the secret of her "vicious life."</p>
<p>As soon as she discovered that the king's favorites
were determined to make life hard and disagreeable for
her, she sought consolation in love and the toilette, in balls
and fêtes, in ballets and hunting, in promenades and gallant
conversations, in tennis and carousals, and in an infinite
variety of ingeniously planned pleasures. The spirit
of chivalry, the habits of exalted devotion, were again in
full sway about her. She worried little about virtue:
"She had the gift of pleasing, was beautiful, and made
full use of the liberality of the gods. Whatever may be
said of her morals, it can truthfully be stated that she
showed art in her love and practised it more in spirit than
with the body." Music was a favorite art with her; she
encouraged and rewarded singing, especially in the convent
which she founded and where she spent almost all of
her later days instructing the children.</p>
<p>Her court at Usson, where, as a prisoner, she lived for
twenty years, was the most brilliant and least material of
all France; there poets, artists, and scholars were held in
high esteem, and were on familiar footing with Marguerite;
the latter showed no despotism, but, with the most consummate
skill, directed conversations and proposed subjects,
encouraging discussion, and skilfully drawing from
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page45" id="page45"></a>[pg 45]</span>
her friends the most brilliant repartees. She received
people of distinction without ceremony.</p>
<p>She introduced the two elements which were combined
in the eighteenth-century salon: a fine cuisine and freedom
among her friends from the restraint usually imposed by
distinction. She was, also, one of the first to have a
circle—well organized according to modern etiquette—where
the highest aristocracy, men of letters, magistrates,
artists, and men of genius met on equal terms and in
familiar and social intercourse; Montaigne, Brantôme, and
other great writers dedicated their works to her. She also
directed a select few, an academy, to instruct and distract
herself. It is said that every coquette, every bourgeois
woman, and almost every court lady endeavored to imitate
her. When she died, at the age of sixty-two, poets
and preachers sang and chanted her merits, and all the
poor wept over their loss; she was called the queen of
the indigent. Richelieu mentioned her devotion to the
state, her style, her eloquence, the grace of her hospitality,
her infinite charity. "She remains, <i>par excellence</i>, the
one great sympathetic woman of the sixteenth century;
her admirers, during life and after death, were legion. She
shared in the lesser evils of the century, but it cannot be
said that she participated in the brutalities, grossness, or
glaring immoralities of her time; her weaknesses, compared
with the great debauches of the age, seemed like virtues."</p>
<p>Such is this great woman of the sixteenth century, who
has received almost universal condemnation at the hands
of historians. It is to be taken into consideration that she
was forced to marry a man whom she did not love, and
to live in a country utterly uncongenial to her nature and
opposed to the religion in which she was reared; furthermore,
that her husband first defiled the marital union, thus
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page46" id="page46"></a>[pg 46]</span>
driving her to follow the general tendencies of the time or
to seek solace in religious activity, for which she had too
much energy. After due consideration of the extenuating
circumstances, her faults and vices, such as they were,
may easily be condoned. Because she was the wife of a
powerful Protestant king, she was condemned by Catholics
and by them regarded with suspicion; and, in order to
save herself, she was forced to commit unwise acts and even follies.</p>
<p>In fine, whatever may be said against Marguerite de
Valois, whom despair drove to acts which are not generally
pardoned, she stands foremost among the social leaders
and cultured women of the sixteenth century, a century
whose prominent women were notorious for their licentiousness
and lack of conscience rather than famous for
their virtue and womanly accomplishments. Undeniably
powerful and brilliant, these unscrupulous women were
never happy; usually proud, they finally suffered the
most cruel humiliations; "voluptuous, they found anguish
underlying pleasure." Their misfortunes are, possibly
more interesting than those successes of which chagrin
anxiety, and heavy hearts were the inseparable associates.</p>
<p>Religion, which in the sixteenth century was so badly
understood, and practised even worse—obscured and
falsified by fanaticism, disfigured and exaggerated by passion
and hatred—was the secret cause of all downfalls
crimes, horrors, intrigues, and brutality. Yet, it alone
survives, and all the important figures of history return to
it after a period of negligence and forgetfulness. In their
religious aspect, the women of the sixteenth century differ
as a rule, from those of the eighteenth, who, though
equally powerful, witty, refined, sensual, frivolous, and
scoffing, were far less devout; for "'tis religion which restores
the great female sinners of the sixteenth century
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page47" id="page47"></a>[pg 47]</span>
'tis religion which saves a society ploughed up by so many
elements of dissolution and so many causes of moral and
material ruin, rescuing it from barbarism, vandalism, and
from irretrievable decay;" but the women of the eighteenth
century clung, to the end, to the scepticism and material
philosophy which served them as their religion, their God.</p>
<p>Among the conspicuous women of the sixteenth century
to whom, thus far, we have been able to attribute so little
of the wholesome and pleasing, the womanly or love-inspiring,
there is one striking exception in Marguerite
d'Angoulême, a representative of letters, art, culture, and
morality. With the study of this character we are taken
back to the beginning of the century and carried among
men of letters especially, for she formed the centre of the
literary world. She, her mother, Louise of Savoy, and
her brother, Francis I., were called a "trinity," to the existence
of which Marguerite bore witness in the poem:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"Such boon is mine—to feel the amity</p>
<p>That God hath putten in our trinity</p>
<p>Wherein to make a third, I, all unfitted</p>
<p>To be that number's shadow, am admitted."</p>
</div> </div>
<p>Marguerite inherited many of her qualities from her
mother, "a most excellent and a most venerable dame,"
though anything but moral and conscientious; she, upon
discovering that her daughter possessed rare intellectual
gifts, provided her with teachers in every branch of the
learning of the age. "At fifteen years of age, the spirit
of God began to manifest itself in her eyes, in her face,
in her walk, in her speech, and in all her actions generally."
Brantôme says: "She had a heart mightily devoted
to God and she loved mightily to compose spiritual songs.
She devoted herself to letters, also, in her young days and
continued them as long as she lived, in the time of her
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page48" id="page48"></a>[pg 48]</span>
greatness, loving and conversing with the most learned
folks of her brother's kingdom, who honored her so greatly
that they called her their Mæcenas." Tenderness, particularly
for her brother, seemed to develop in her as a passion.</p>
<p>Marguerite was a rare exception in a period described
by M. Saint-Amand as one in which women were Christian
in certain aspects of their character and pagan in others,
taking an active part in every event, ruling by wit and
beauty, wisdom and courage; an age of thoughtless gaiety
and morbid fanaticism, and of laughter and tears, still
rough and savage, yet with an undercurrent of subtle
grace and exquisite politeness; an age in which the extremes
of elegance and cruelty were blended, in which the
most glaring scepticism and intense superstitions were
everywhere evident; an age which was religious as well
as debauched and whose women were both good and evil,
innocent and intriguing. Everything was fluctuating;
there was inconstancy even in the things most affected:
pleasure, pomp, display. The natural outcome of this
undefined restlessness was dissatisfaction; and when dissatisfaction
brought in its train the inevitable reaction
against falseness and immorality, Marguerite d'Angoulême
stood at the head of the movement.</p>
<p>With her begins the cultural and moral development of
France. It was she who encouraged that desire for a new
phase of existence, which arose through contact with Italian
culture. The men of learning—poets, artists, scholars—who
soon gathered about the French court received
immediate recognition from the king's sister, who had
studied all languages, was gay, brilliant, and æsthetic.
While her mother and brother were in harmony with the
age, no better, no worse than their environment, Marguerite
aspired to the most elevated morals and ideals; thus,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page49" id="page49"></a>[pg 49]</span>
she is a type of all that is refined, sensitive, loving, noble,
and generous in humanity, a woman vastly superior to
her time; in fact, the modern woman, with her highest attributes.</p>
<p>In Marguerite d'Angoulême contemporaries admired prudence,
chastity, moderation, piety, an invincible strength
of soul, and her habit of "hiding her knowledge instead of
displaying it." "In an age wholly depraved, she approached
the ideal woman of modern times; in spite of
her virtue, she was brilliant and honored, the centre of a
coterie that delighted in music, verse, ingenious dialogues
and gossip, story telling, singing, rhyming. Deeply afflicted
by the sad and odious spectacle of the vices, abuses, and
crimes which unroll before her, she suffers through her
imagination, mind and heart." Serious and sympathetic,
she was interested in every movement, feeling with those
who were persecuted on account of their religious opinions.</p>
<p>Various are the names by which she is known: daughter
of Charles of Orléans, Count of Angoulême, Duchesse
d'Alençon through her first marriage, and Queen of Navarre
through her second, she was called Marguerite d'Angoulême,
Marguerite of Navarre, of Valois, Marguerite de
France, Marguerite des Princesses, the Fourth Grace, and
the Tenth Muse. A most appreciative and just account
of her life is given by M. Saint-Amand, which will be
followed in the main outline of this sketch.</p>
<p>She was born in 1492, and, as already stated, received a
thorough education under the direction of her mother,
Louise of Savoy. At seventeen she was married to
Charles III., Duke of Alençon; as he did not prove to be
her ideal, she sought consolation in love for her brother,
sharing the almost universal admiration for the young
king, whose tendency to favor everything new and progressive
was stimulated by her. She became his constant
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page50" id="page50"></a>[pg 50]</span>
and best adviser in general affairs as well as in those of
state. The foreign ambassadors sought her after having
accomplished their mission, and were referred to her when
the king was busy; they were enraptured, and carried
back wonderful reports of Marguerite.</p>
<p>The world of art was opened to the French by a bevy
of such painters and sculptors as Leonardo da Vinci, Rosso,
Primaticcio, Benvenuto Cellini, and Bramante, and they
were encouraged and fêted by Marguerite especially. In
those days a new picture from Italy by Raphael was received
with as much pomp and ceremony as, in olden
times, were accorded the holiest relics from the East.</p>
<p>Men of letters gathered about the sister of the king,
forming what might be termed a court of sentimental
metaphysics; for the questions discussed were those of
love. This refined gallantry, empty and vapid, formed
the foundation of the seventeenth-century salon, where
the language and fine points of sentiment were considered
and cultivated until sentiment acquired poise, grandeur,
and an air of dignity and reserve.</p>
<p>The period was one in which, during times of trial and
misfortune, the presence of an underlying religious sentiment
became unmistakable. In such an atmosphere, the
propensity toward mysticism, which Marguerite had manifested
as a child, grew more and more apparent. When
Francis I. was captured at the battle of Pavia, his sister
immediately sought consolation in devotion, the nature of
which is well illustrated in a letter to the captive king:</p>
<p>"Monseigneur, the further they remove you from us,
the greater becomes my firm hope of your deliverance and
speedy return, for the hour when men's minds are most
troubled is the hour when God achieves His masterstroke ... and
if He now gives you, on one hand,
a share in the pains which He has borne for you, and, on
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page51" id="page51"></a>[pg 51]</span>
the other hand, the grace to bear them patiently, I entreat
you, Monseigneur, to believe unfalteringly that it is only
to try how much you love Him and to give you leisure to
think how much He loves you. For He desires to have
your heart entirely, as, for love, He has given you His
own; He has permitted this trial, in order, after having
united you to Him by tribulation, to deliver you for His
own glory—so that, through you, His name may be known
and sanctified, not in your kingdom alone, but in all Christendom
and even to the conversion of the infidels. Oh,
how blessed will be your brief captivity by which God
will deliver so many souls from that infidelity and eternal
damnation! Alas, Monseigneur! I know that you understand
all this far better than I do; but seeing that in other
things I think only of you, as being all that God has left
me in this world,—father, brother, husband,—and not
having the comfort of telling you so, I have not feared to
weary you with a long letter, which to me is short, in
order to console myself for my inability to talk with you."</p>
<p>After his incarceration in the gloomy prison in Spain
where he was taken ill, Francis asked for the safe conduct
of Marguerite; this was gladly granted. Ignorant of her
future duty in Spain, she wrote: "Whatever it may be,
even to the giving of my ashes to the winds to do you a
service, nothing will seem strange, difficult or painful to
me, but will be only consolation, repose, and honor." So
impatient was she to arrive at her brother's side that she
could not travel fast enough.</p>
<p>Her presence only increased his fever and a serious
crisis soon came on, the king remaining for some time
"without hearing or seeing or speaking." Marguerite,
in this critical time, implored the assistance of God. She
had an altar erected in her chamber, and all the French
of the household, great lords and domestics alike, knelt
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page52" id="page52"></a>[pg 52]</span>
beside the sick man's sister and received the communion
from the hands of the Archbishop of Embrun, who, drawing
near the bed, entreated the king to turn his eyes to
the holy sacrament. Francis came out of his lethargy and
asked to commune likewise, saying: "It is my God who
will heal my soul and body; I entreat you that I may receive
him." Then, the Host having been divided in two, the
king received one half with the greatest devotion, and his
sister the other half. The sick man felt himself sustained by
a supernatural force; a celestial consolation descended into
the soul that had been despairing. Marguerite's prayer
had not been unavailing—Francis I. was saved.</p>
<p>She then proceeded to visit different cities and royalties,
endeavoring to secure concessions for her brother. From
the people in the streets as well as from the lords in their
houses, she received the most unmistakable proofs of
friendly feeling; in fact, her favor was so great that
Charles V. informed "the Duke of Infantado that, if he
wished to please the emperor, neither he nor his sons
must speak to Madame d'Alençon." The latter, unable
to secure her brother's release, planned a marriage between
him and Eleanor of Portugal, sister of Charles V.;
her successes at court and in the family of the emperor
furthered this scheme. Brantôme says: "She spoke to
the emperor so bravely and so courteously that he was
quite astonished, and she spoke even more to those of his
council with whom she had audience; there she produced
an excellent impression, speaking and arguing with an
easy grace in which she was proficient, and making herself
rather agreeable than hateful or tiresome. Her reasons
were found good and pertinent and she retained the high
esteem of the emperor, his court and council."</p>
<p>Although she failed in her attempts to free the king,
she succeeded, by arranging the marriage, in completely
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page53" id="page53"></a>[pg 53]</span>
changing the rigorous captivity to which Charles had subjected
him. Finally, by giving his two eldest sons as
hostages, the king obtained his release, and in March,
1526, he again set foot, as sovereign, on French soil.
Thus the king's life was saved and he was permitted to
return to his country, Marguerite's devotion having accomplished
that in which the most skilled diplomatist would have failed.</p>
<p>All historians agree that Marguerite d'Angoulême was a
devout Catholic, but that she was too broad and liberal,
intelligent and humane, to sanction the unbridled excesses
of fanaticism. The acknowledged leader of moral reform,
she protected and assisted those persecuted on account of
their religious views and sympathized with the first stages
of that movement which revolted against abuses, vice,
scandals, immorality, and intrigue. With her, the question
was not one of dogma, but concerned, instead, the
religion which she considered most conducive to progress
and reform. It grieved her to see her religion defile itself
by cruel and inhuman persecutions and tortures, by intolerance
and injustice. She felt for, but not with, the heretics
in their errors. "She typifies her age in all that is good
and noble, in artistic aspirations, in literary ideals, in pure
politics—in short,—in humanity; in her is not found the
chaotic vagueness which so often breaks out in license and
licentiousness, cruelty, and barbarism."</p>
<p>During the absence in Spain of Francis I. and Marguerite,
the mother-regent sought to gain the support and
favor of Rome by ordering imprisonments, confiscations,
and punishments of heretics; but upon the return of the
king and his sister, the banished were recalled and tolerance
again ruled. When (in 1526) Berquin was seized and
tried for heresy, he found but one defender. Marguerite
wrote to her brother, still at Madrid:</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page54" id="page54"></a>[pg 54]</span>
<p>"My desire to obey your commands was sufficiently
strong without having it redoubled by the charity you
have been pleased to show poor Berquin according to your
promise; I feel that He for whom I believe him to have
suffered will approve of the mercy which, for His honor,
you have had upon His servant and your own."</p>
<p>Marguerite had saved Berquin and had even taken him
into her service. Her letter to the constable, Anne de
Montmorency, shows her esteem of men of genius and especially of Berquin:</p>
<p>"I thank you for the pleasure you have afforded me
in the matter of poor Berquin whom I esteem as much
as if he were myself; and so you may say you have delivered
me from prison, since I consider in that light the favor done me."</p>
<p>When on June 1, 1528, a statue of the Virgin was thrown
down and mutilated by unknown hands, a reversion of
feeling arose immediately, and even Marguerite was not
able to save poor Berquin, and he was burned at the
stake. Upon learning of his imminent peril, she wrote to
Francis from Saint-Germain:</p>
<p>"I, for the last time, very humbly make you a request;
it is that you will be pleased to have pity upon poor Berquin,
whom I know to be suffering for nothing other than
loving the word of God and obeying yours. You will be
pleased, Monseigneur, so to act that it be not said that
separation has made you forget your most humble and
obedient sister and subject, Marguerite."</p>
<p>Encouraged by their success in that instance, the intolerant
party began furious attacks upon her, one monk
going so far as to say from the pulpit that she should be
put into a sack and thrown into the Seine. Upon her
publication of a religious poem, <i>Miroir de l'âme pécheresse</i>,
in which she failed to mention purgatory or the saints,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page55" id="page55"></a>[pg 55]</span>
she was vigorously attacked by Beda, who had the verses
condemned by the Sorbonne and caused the pupils of the
College of Navarre to perform a morality in which Marguerite
was represented under the character of a woman
quitting her distaff for a French translation of the Gospels
presented to her by a Fury. This was too much even
for Francis, and he ordered the principal and his actors
arrested; it was then that Marguerite showed her gentleness,
mercy, and humanity by throwing herself at her
brother's feet and asking for their pardon.</p>
<p>After but a short respite the persecution broke out anew,
and with the full sanction of the king, who, upon finding
at his door a placard against the mass, went even so far as
to sign letters patent ordering the suppression of printing
(1535). While away from the soothing influence of his
sister, Francis I. was easily persuaded to sign, for the
Catholic party, any permit of execution or cruelty. The
life of Marguerite herself was constantly in danger, but in
spite of persistent efforts to turn brother against sister,
the king continued to protect and defend the latter; and
though she gradually drew closer to Catholicism, she continued
to protect the Protestants. She founded nunneries
and showed a profound devotion toward the Virgin; although
realizing the dangers and follies of the new doctrine, she
had too much humanity to encourage cruelty.</p>
<p>The husband whom the king forced upon her was twelve
years her junior, poor, and subsidized by Francis; by him
she had a daughter, Jeanne d'Albret, who became the
champion of Protestantism. Her married life at Pau,
where she had erected beautiful buildings and magnificent
terraces, was not happy; the subjects of love that
formerly had amused her had lost their charm; and the
incurable disease with which her brother was stricken
caused her constant worry and mental suffering. When
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page56" id="page56"></a>[pg 56]</span>
banquets, the chase, and other amusements no longer
attracted Francis, he summoned Marguerite to comfort
and console him; her devotion and goodness never failed.
Unable to recover from the grief caused by his death
in 1547, she expressed her sorrow in the most beautiful poems.</p>
<p>She gave the remainder of her life to religion and charity,
abandoning her literary ambitions and plans. "The
life after death gave her much trouble and many moments
of perplexity and uneasiness. She survived her brother
only two years, dying in 1549; the helper and protector of
good literature, the defence, consolation, and shelter of the
distressed, she was mourned by all France more than was
any other queen." Sainte-Marthe says: "How many
widows are there, how many orphans, how many afflicted,
how many old persons, whom she pensioned every year,
who now, like sheep whose shepherd is dead, wander
hither and thither, seeking to whom to go, crying in the
ears of the wealthy and deploring their miserable fate!"
Poets, scholars, all learned and professional men, commemorated
their protectress in poems and funeral orations.
France was one large family in deep mourning.</p>
<p>Marguerite d'Angoulême must first be considered as the
real power behind the supreme authority of her period,
her brother the king; secondly, as a furtherer of the development
and encouragement of good literature, good
taste, high art, and pure morals; thirdly, as a critic of
importance. She is entitled to the first consideration by
the fact that as the confidential adviser of Francis I. she
moulded his opinions and checked his evil tendencies: the
affairs of the kingdom were therefore, to a large extent, in
her hands. She collected and partly organized the chaotic
mass of material thrown upon the sixteenth-century world,
leaving its moulding into a classic French form to the next
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page57" id="page57"></a>[pg 57]</span>
century; and by her spirit of tolerance she endeavored to
further all moral development: thus is she entitled to the
second consideration. Gifted with rare delicacy of taste,
solidity of judgment, and the ability to select, discriminate,
and adapt, she set the standards of style and tone: therefore,
she is entitled to the third consideration.</p>
<p>The love of Marguerite for her brother, and her unselfish
devotion to his interests, is a precedent unparalleled in
French history until the time of Madame de Sévigné. In
all her letters we find the same tenderness, gentleness,
passion, inexhaustible emotion, sympathy, and compassion
that distinguished her actions.</p>
<p>In her <i>Contes</i> (the <i>Heptameron</i>) <i>de la Reine de Navarre</i>
we have an accurate representation of society, its manners
and style of conversation; in it we find, also, remnants of
the brutality and grossness of the Middle Ages, as well as
reflections of the higher tendencies and aspirations of the
later time. In having a thorough knowledge of the tricks,
deceits, and follies of the professional lovers of the day,
and of their object in courting women, Marguerite was
able to warn her contemporaries and thus guard them
against immorality and its dangers. In her works she
upheld the purity of ideal love, exposing the questionable
and selfish designs of the clever professional seducers. A
specimen may be cited to show her style of writing and the trend of her thought:</p>
<p>"Emarsuite has just related the history of a gentleman
and a young girl who, being unable to be united, had both
embraced the religious life. When the story is ended,
Hircan, instead of showing himself affected, cries: 'Then
there are more fools and mad women than there ever
were!' 'Do you call it folly,' says Oisille, 'to love honestly
in youth and then to turn all love to God?' ... 'And
yet I have the opinion,' says Parlemente, 'that no
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page58" id="page58"></a>[pg 58]</span>
man will ever love God perfectly who has not perfectly
loved some creature in this world.' 'What do you
by loving perfectly?' asks Saffredant; 'do you call
perfect lovers who are bashful and adore ladies from a
distance, without daring to express their wishes?' 'I call
those perfect lovers,' replies Parlemente, 'who seek some
perfection in what they love—whether goodness, beauty or
kindness—and whose hearts are so lofty and honest that
they would rather die than perform those base deeds
which honor and conscience forbid; for the soul which
was created only to return to its Sovereign Good cannot,
while it is in the body, do otherwise than desire to win
thither; but because the senses, by which it can have
tidings of that which it seeks, are dull and carnal on
account of the sin of our first parents, they can show it
only those visible things which most nearly approach perfection;
and the soul runs after them, believing that in
visible grace and moral virtues it may find the Sovereign
Grace, Beauty and Virtue. But without finding whom it
loves, it passes on like the child who, according to his
littleness, loves apples, pears, dolls and other little things—the
most beautiful that his eye can see—and thinks it
riches to heap little stones together; but, on growing
larger he loves living things, and, therefore, amasses the
goods necessary for human life; but he knows, by the
greatest experiences, that neither perfection nor felicity is
attained by possessions only, and he desires true felicity
and the Maker and Source thereof.'"</p>
<p>In her writings, much apparent indelicacy and grossness
are encountered; but it must be remembered for whom
she was writing, the condition of morality and the taste
of the public at that time, and that she aimed faithfully to
depict the society that lay before her eyes. It is argued
by some critics that these indecencies could not have
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page59" id="page59"></a>[pg 59]</span>
emanated from a pure, chaste woman; that Marguerite
must have experienced the sins she depicted; but such
reasoning is not sound. The expressions used by her
were current in her time; there was greater freedom of
manners, and coarseness and drastic language—examples
of which are found so frequently in the writings of Luther—were very common.</p>
<p>Marguerite was less remarkable for what she did than
for what she aspired to do. "She invoked, against the
vices and prejudices of her epoch, those principles of
morality and justice, of tolerance and humanity, which
must be the very foundation of all stable society. She
wished to make her brother the protector of the oppressed,
the support of the learned, the crowned apostle of the
Renaissance, the promoter of salutary reforms in the morals
of the clergy; in politics, he was to follow a straight line
and methodically advance the accomplishment of the
legitimate ambitions of France."</p>
<p>She expressed the most modern ideas on the rights of
woman, particularly on her relative rights in the married state:</p>
<p>"It is right that man should govern us as our head, but
not that he should abandon us or treat us ill. God has so
well ordered both man and woman, that I think marriage,
if it is not abused, one of the most beautiful and secure
estates that can be in this world, and I am sure that all
who are here, no matter what pretense they make, think
as much or more; and as much as man calls himself wiser
than woman, so much the more grievously will he be punished
if the fault be on his side. Those who are overcome
by pleasure ought not to call themselves women any
longer, but men, whose honor is but augmented by fury
and concupiscence; for a man who revenges himself upon
his enemy and slays him for a contradiction is esteemed a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page60" id="page60"></a>[pg 60]</span>
better companion for so doing; and the same is true if he
love a dozen other women besides his wife; but the honor of
woman has another foundation: it is gentleness, patience, chastity."</p>
<p>Désiré Nisard says that Marguerite d'Angoulême was
the first to write prose that can be read without the aid of
a vocabulary; in verse, she excels all poets of her time in
sympathy and compassion; her poetry is "a voice which
complains—a heart which suffers and which tells us so."
"It is not so much her own deep sentiment that is reflected,
but her emotion, which is both intellectual and
sympathetic, volitional and spontaneous." Her letters
were epoch-making; nothing before her time nor after her
(until Madame de Sévigné) can equal them in precision,
purity of language, sincerity and frankness of expression,
passion and religious fervor.</p>
<p>In spite of what may be said to the contrary, her life
was an ideal one, an example of perfect moral beauty and
elevation; noble, generous, refined, pious, and sincere, she
possessed qualities which were indeed rare in her time.
She was attacked for her charity, and is to-day the victim
of narrow sectarian and biased devotees. Her act of
renouncing all gorgeous dress, even the robes of gold
brocade so much worn by every princess, in order to give
all her money to the poor; her protection of the needy and
persecuted; her court of poets and scholars; her visits to
the sick and stricken; even her untiring love for her
brother and her acts of clemency—all have frequently been misinterpreted.</p>
<p>The greatest poets and men of letters of the sixteenth
century were encouraged financially and morally or protected
by Marguerite d'Angoulême—Rabelais, Marot, Pelletier,
Bonaventure-Desperiers, Mellin de Saint-Gelais,
Lefèvre d'Etaples, Amyot, Calvin, Berquin. Charles de
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page61" id="page61"></a>[pg 61]</span>
Sainte-Marthe says: "In seeing them about this good lady,
you would say it was a hen which carefully calls and
gathers her chicks and shelters them with her wings."</p>
<p>Many critics believe that her literary work was imitative
rather than original; even if this be true, it in no
measure detracts from her importance, which is based
upon the fact that she was the leading spirit of the time
and typified her environment. Her followers, and they
included all the intellectual spirits, looked up to her as the
one incentive for writing and pleasing. Her disposition
was characterized by restlessness, haste—too great eagerness
to absorb and digest and appropriate all that was unfolded
before her. She imitated the <i>Decameron</i> and drew
up for herself a <i>Heptameron</i>; her poetry showed much skill
and great ease, but little originality. Her extreme facility,
her wonderfully active mind, her power of <i>causerie</i>, and her
ability to discuss and write upon philosophical and religious
abstractions, won the deep admiration and respect of her
followers, who were not only content to be aided financially
by her, but looked to her for guidance and counsel in their
own work, though she never imposed her ideas and taste
upon others. By her tact, she was able practically to
control and guide the entire literary, artistic, and social
development of the sixteenth century. Every form of
intellectual movement of this period is impregnated with
the spirit of Marguerite d'Angoulême.</p>
<p>With her affable and loving manners, her refined taste
and superior knowledge, she was able to influence her
brother and, through him, the government. Just as her
mother controlled in politics, so did Marguerite in arts and
manners. In her are found the main characteristics to
which later French women owed their influence—a form
of versatility which included exceptional tact and enabled
the possessor to appreciate and sympathize with all forms
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page62" id="page62"></a>[pg 62]</span>
of activity, to deal with all classes, to manage and be managed in turn.</p>
<p>The writings of Marguerite are quite numerous, consisting
of six moralities or comedies, a farce, epistles, elegies,
philosophical poems, and the <i>Heptameron</i>, her principal
work—a collection of prose tales in which are reflected
the customary conversation, the morals of polite society,
and the ideal love of the time. They are a medley of crude
equivocalities, of the grossness of the <i>fabliaux</i>, of Rabelais,
and of the delicate preciosity of the seventeenth
century. Love is the principal theme discussed—youth,
nobility, wealth, power, beauty, glory, love for love, the
delicate sensation of feeling one's self loved, elegant love,
obsequious love; perfect love is found in those lovers who
seek perfection in what they love, either of goodness,
beauty, or grace—always tending to virtue.</p>
<p>Thoroughly to appreciate Marguerite d'Angoulême's position
and influence and her contributions to literature, the
conditions existing in her epoch must be carefully considered.
It was in the sixteenth century that the charms of
social life and of conversation as an art were first realized;
all questions of the day were treated gracefully, if not
deeply; woman began to play an important part, to appear
at court, and, by her wit and beauty, to impress man.
From the semi-barbaric spirit of the Middle Ages to the
Italian and Roman culture of the Renaissance was a tremendous
stride; in this cultural development, Marguerite
was of vital importance. In intellectual attainments far
in advance of the age, among its great women she stands
out alone in her spirit of humanity, generosity, tolerance,
broad sympathies, exemplary family life, and exalted devotion to her brother.</p>
<p>Of the other literary women of the sixteenth century,
mention may be made of two who have left little or no
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page63" id="page63"></a>[pg 63]</span>
work of importance, but who are interesting on account of
the peculiar form of their activity.</p>
<p>Mlle. de Gournay, <i>fille d'alliance</i> of Montaigne, is a
unique character. Having conceived a violent passion for
the philosopher and essayist, she would have no other
consort than her honor and good books. She called the
ladies of the court "court dolls," accusing them of deforming
the French language by affecting words that had
apparently been greased with oil in order to facilitate their
flow. She was one of the first woman suffragists and the
most independent spirit of the age. In 1592, to see
the country of her master, she undertook a long voyage,
at a time when any trip was fraught with the gravest dangers for a woman.</p>
<p>She is a striking example of the effect of sixteenth-century
sympathy, admiration, and enthusiasm; she was
protected by some of the greatest literary men of the
age—Balzac, Grotius, Heinsius; the French Academy is
said to have met with her on several occasions, and
she is said to have participated in its work of purifying
and fixing the French language. Her adherence
to the Montaigne cult has brought her name down to posterity.</p>
<p>M. du Bled relates a droll story in connection with her
meeting Richelieu. Mlle. de Gournay was an old maid,
who lived to the ripe age of eighty. Being a pronounced
<i>féministe</i>, she—like her sisters of to-day—cultivated cats.
The story runs as follows:</p>
<p>"Bois-Robert conducted her to the Cardinal, who paid
her a compliment composed of old words taken from one
of her books; she saw the point immediately. 'You laugh
over the poor old girl, but laugh, great genius, laugh! everybody
must contribute something to your diversion.' The
Cardinal, surprised at her ready wit, asked her pardon,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page64" id="page64"></a>[pg 64]</span>
and said to Bois-Robert: 'We must do something for Mlle.
de Gournay. I give her two hundred écus pension.' 'But
she has servants,' suggested Bois-Robert. 'Who?' 'Mlle.
Jamyn (bastard), illegitimate daughter of Amadis Jamyn,
page of Ronsard.' 'I will give her fifty livres annually.'
'There is still dear little Piaillon, her cat.' 'I give her
twenty livres pension, on condition that Piaillon shall have
tripes.' 'But, Monseigneur, she has had kittens!' The
Cardinal added a pistole for the little kittens."</p>
<p>A woman of large fortune, she spent it freely in study,
in her household, and especially in alchemy. Her peculiar
ideas about love kept her from falling prey to the wealth-seeking
gallants of the time. She was one of the few
women who made a profession of writing; she compiled
moral dissertations, defences of woman, and treatises on
language, all of which she published at her own expense;
while they are of no real importance, they show a remarkable
frankness and courage.</p>
<p>Mlle. de Gournay was, possibly, the first woman to demand
the acceptance of woman on an equal status with
man; for she wrote two treatises on woman's condition
and rank, insisting upon a better education for her, though
she herself was well educated. Following the events of
the day with a careful scrutiny and interpreting them in
her writings, she showed a remarkable gift of perspective
and deduction and an intimate knowledge of politics. The
fact that she was severely, even spitefully, attacked in
both poetry and prose but proves that her writings on women were effective.</p>
<p>Some writers claim that the founding of the French
Academy had its inception at her rooms, where many of
the members met and where, later on, they discussed the
work of the Academy. Her one desire for the language
was to have it advance and develop, preserving every
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page65" id="page65"></a>[pg 65]</span>
word, resorting to old ones, accepting new ones only when
necessary. Thus, among French female educators, Mlle.
de Gournay deserves a prominent place, because of her
high ideals and earnest efforts in the study of the language,
for the courage with which she advanced her convictions
regarding woman, and for the high moral standard
which she set by her own conduct.</p>
<p>In Louise Labé—<i>La Belle Cordière</i>—we meet a warrior,
as well as a woman of letters. The great movement of
the Renaissance, as it swept northward, invaded Lyons;
there Louise Labé endeavored to do what Ronsard and the
Pléiade were doing at Paris. A great part of her youth
she passed in war, wearing man's apparel and assuming
the name of "Captain Loys"; at an early age, she left
home with a company of soldiers passing through Lyons
on the way to lay siege to Perpignan, where she showed
pluck, bravery, and skill. Upon her return, she married
a merchant ropemaker, whence her sobriquet—<i>La Belle Cordière</i>.</p>
<p>She soon won a reputation by gathering about her a
circle of men, who complimented her in the most elegant
language and read poetry with her. Science and literature
were discussed and the praises of love sung with passionate,
inflamed eloquence. In this circle of congenial spirits,
"she gave rise to doubts as to her virtue." As her husband
was wealthy, she was able to collect an immense
library and to entertain at her pleasure; she could converse
in almost any language, and all travellers stopped
at Lyons and called to see her at her salon. Her
writings consisted of sonnets, elegies, and dialogues in
prose; her influence, being too local, is not marked. Her
greatest claim to attention is that she encouraged letters
in a city which was beyond the reach of every literary movement.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page66" id="page66"></a>[pg 66]</span>
Such were the women of the sixteenth century; in no
epoch in French history have women played a greater
rôle; art, literature, morals, politics, all were governed by
them. They were active in every phase of life, hunting
with men, taking part in and causing duels, intriguing and
initiating intrigues. "In the midst of battle, while cannon-balls
and musket-shots rained about her, Catherine de'
Medici was as brave and unconcerned as the most valiant
of men. Diana of Poitiers was called the most wondrous
woman, the woman of eternal youth, the beautiful huntress;
it was she whom Jean Goujon sculptured, nude and triumphant,
embracing with marble arms a mysterious stag, enamoured like Leda's swan."</p>
<p>In general, the women of that century "liked better to
be feared than loved; they inspired mad passions, insensate
devotions, ecstatic admirations. The epoch was
one in which life counted for little, when balls alternated
with massacres; when virtue was befitting only the lowly
born and ugly (Brantôme recommends the beautiful to be
inconstant because they should resemble the sun who
diffuses his light so indiscriminately that everybody in the
world feels it). It was the age of beauty—a beauty that
fascinated and entranced, but the glow of which melted
and killed; but this glow also reacted upon them that
caused it and they became victims of their own passions—through
either jealousy or their own weaknesses. No
age was ever more luxurious, pompous, elegant, brilliant,
and wanton, yet beneath all the glitter there were much
misery and bitter repentance; amongst the violent wickedness
there were noble and pure women such as Elizabeth
of Austria and Louise de Vaudemont."</p>
<p>The whole century seemed to be afire and to tingle with
that spirit of liberty, imitation, and experimentation, which,
so often abused, led to much disaster. In spite of that
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page67" id="page67"></a>[pg 67]</span>
unsettled and excited condition, the sixteenth century
attained greater development, had more avenues of intellectual
activity opened to it, imitated, thought and imagined
more and produced as much as any other century; in
every field, we find the names of its masters. As M. Faguet
says, the sixteenth century was, in France, the century
<i>créateur par excellence</i>; and in this, woman's part was,
above all, political, her social, moral, and literary influence
being less marked.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page69" id="page69"></a>[pg 69]</span>
<h2>Chapter III</h2>
<h2>The Seventeenth Century: Woman at Her Best</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page71" id="page71"></a>[pg 71]</span>
<p>In the seventeenth century, the influence exerted by
the women of France, departing from the political aspect
which had characterized it in the preceding century, became
of a social, literary, religious, and moral nature, the
last predominating. Inasmuch as the reins of government
were in the hands of the king and his ministers, political
affairs were but slightly affected by the feminine element.
Woman, realizing the uselessness as well as danger of
plotting against the inviolate person and power of the
king, contented herself with scheming against those ministers
whose attitudes she considered unfavorable to her plans.</p>
<p>Of all social and literary movements, however, woman
was the acknowledged leader; in that institution of culture
and development, the seventeenth century salon, her undisputed
supremacy placed her in the position of patroness
and protectress of men of letters. In the general religious
movement her rôle was one of secondary importance; and
as mistress, she ceased with the sixteenth century to be
either active politically or disastrous morally and became
merely a temporary recipient of capriciously bestowed
wealth and favors. In order to fully comprehend woman's
position and the exact nature of her influence in this century
and the following one, the position and constitution
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page72" id="page72"></a>[pg 72]</span>
of the nobility before, during and after the ministry of
Richelieu, must be studied.</p>
<p>The great houses of Carolingian origin were those of
Alençon, Bourgogne, Bourbon, Vendôme, Kings of Navarre,
Counts of Valois, and Artois; the great gentlemen were
the Dukes of Guise, Nemours, Longueville, Chevreuse,
Nevers, Bouillon, Rohan, Montmorency, and, later, Luxembourg,
Mortemart, Créqui, Noailles; names which are
constantly met with in French history. Before the time
of Louis XIV., men of such rank, when dissatisfied or discontented,
might leave court at their will and were requested
to return; but with Louis XIV., departure from
court was considered a disgrace, and offending parties
were permitted, not asked, to return.</p>
<p>Outside the army, there was open to the princes of the
nobility no occupation in which they might expend their
surplus energy; thus, being free from the burden of taxes,
it was but natural that they should seek amusement in literature,
society, and intrigue. The honor of their respective
houses and the fear of being damned in the next world
were their only sources of deep concern; other than these,
they assumed no responsibilities, desiring absolute freedom from care.</p>
<p>Legal, judicial, and ecclesiastical offices were open to
them but were little favored except as convenient means
of obtaining revenues and positions otherwise not procurable.
The first requisites toward advancement were
bravery and skill, not learning; the majority of the members
of the nobility much preferred buying a regiment to
being president of a tribunal, and their primary ambition
was to acquire a reputation for magnificence, heroism, and
gallantry. They fought for glory, to show their skill
and courage; the sentiment of patriotism was but weakly
developed, and war was indulged in merely for the sake of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page73" id="page73"></a>[pg 73]</span>
fighting, passing the time, and being occupied. As in the
preceding century, death was but little feared; in fact, the
scorn of it was carried to the extreme. "The French
went to death as though they were to be resuscitated on the morrow."</p>
<p>That man went to war was not sufficient proof of his
bravery; in addition, he must, upon the smallest pretext,
draw his sword, must fight constantly, and especially with
adversaries better armed and larger in force; the love of
woman was for such men only. Adventure was the fad:
it is said of one seigneur that he took pleasure in going
every night to a certain corner and, from pure malice,
striking with his sword the first person who chanced that
way; this unique pastime he continued until he himself was killed.</p>
<p>Marriage, until the eighteenth century, was not a union
of affection, but merely an alliance between two families
and in the interest of both; women, to preserve their
identity after marriage, signed their family names. As
maturity was reached at the age of twelve, marriage meant
simply cohabitation. Until the Revolution, free marriages,
or liaisons, were recognized as natural if not legitimate
institutions, and the offspring of such unions, who were
said to be more numerous than legitimate children,
were legitimatized and became heirs simply through recognition
by the father. (At first, princes were unwilling to
accept, as wives, the natural daughters of kings; however,
the Duke of Orleans and the Prince of Conti married the
natural daughters of Louis XIV.) As a rule, titles could
not be transmitted through females; when a woman married
beneath her rank she lost her titles, but they were given to her children.</p>
<p>In the seventeenth century, woman's influence was
of a nature vastly superior to that exerted by her in the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page74" id="page74"></a>[pg 74]</span>
sixteenth century, in that it rendered sacred both her and
her honor; but, in spite of the refining restraint of the
salon, brutality was still the main characteristic of man. To
express beautiful sentiments in the midst of jealousies, rivalries,
adventures, complaints, and despair, was the <i>savoir-vivre</i>
of the Catherine de' Medici type of elegance brought
from Italy in the sixteenth century. This caused the extremes
of external fastidiousness and internal grossness to
be embodied in the same individual; in the eighteenth century,
man was, inwardly as well as outwardly, refined, mild,
kind, a friend of pleasure; and therein lies the fundamental
difference between the <i>honnête homme</i> of Louis XIV. and the
<i>homme du monde</i> of Louis XV. The seventeenth century
type of man is midway between that of the sixteenth and
eighteenth—more polished and less gross than the former,
yet lacking the knowledge and culture of the latter.</p>
<p>When in the seventeenth century the two all-powerful
forces, brute force and money, of the preceding century
were replaced by those of money and the pen, the decay
of the impoverished and unintellectual nobility became but
a question of time. The day when great gentlemen might
scorn men of letters and learning was rapidly passing;
with the French Academy arose a new spirit, a fresh impulse
was given to intellectual attainments. Although
treated as inferiors, the literary men of the seventeenth
century spoke of the aristocracy in a spirit of raillery, but
slightly veiled with respect; and the nobility while remaining,
in its way, courageous and glorious, lost its prestige, force, and influence.</p>
<p>In the seventeenth century, money acquired a certain
purchasing value which procured advantages and luxuries
impossible in the preceding period when the brave man
was worth infinitely more than the rich who, scorned
and considered as a rapacious Jew, was isolated and in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page75" id="page75"></a>[pg 75]</span>
constant fear of being robbed or killed. As the number of
government officials increased, individual fortunes grew;
men became enormously wealthy through the various
offices bought by them or given to them by the government.
The financier was a king and many marriages of
princes and dukes with daughters of men of wealth are
recorded. Women of station, however, seldom married
beneath their rank, because they lost their titles by so
doing, and titles were still the only road to social success.
As a rule, titles could not be transmitted through females;
when a woman made a misalliance her titles were given to
her children. Almost all rich men of the period, from the
time of Louis XIII. to the Revolution, became nobles, as
almost every brave man was made a knight up to the
seventeenth century. It was possible for the wealthy to
buy a marquisate or baronetage and give it to their children;
a grand-marshal of France was no longer so powerful as a rich banker.</p>
<p>The complete change, under Louis XIV., of the customs
of the time, caused numberless petty jealousies, scandals,
and intrigues in the aristocracy, which could no longer
maintain its old form and yet had to be considered by the
government. The question of reform arose—how to restrict
the number of nobles, which increased every year.
Rank was bestowed for service and, sometimes, even for
wealth; the old families, being poor, had no distinctive
prestige except that given by their privileges at court;
their titles no longer distinguished them from the newcomers,
whom they gradually began to disdain, and the
result was a general lowering of the standing, importance,
and influence of nobility. Another party which gained
prominence was that of the bench; the judges, as interpreters
of the king's laws, became powerful, for law was
absolute. A deadly rivalry sprang up between the parties
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page76" id="page76"></a>[pg 76]</span>
of rank with no money or power and of power and money without rank.</p>
<p>The desire of every man of rank to be independent, to
be a force in himself instead of a part of a unit which
might be useful to the state as a whole, was one of the
principal defects of the French aristocracy; poverty crushed
it, idleness robbed it of its alertness, intriguing and gradual
oppression reduced it to despair. Appointed to offices, its
members failed in the performance of their duties; the
latter fell to the under men who, while the aristocracy
was busy at fêtes, in society, at the table, became experts
in the affairs of the government—shrewd politicians and
financiers. The new nobility, that of the robe, replaced
that of the sword in all interests of the government except
war; gradually, Parliament was made up of men who,
having been elevated to the rank of nobility, retained their
aversion to those who were noble by birth, recognizing
only the king as their superior and refusing precedence to
even the princes of the blood. Louis XIV., however, objecting
to and fearing such a strong class as that of the
robe, employed, wherever possible, people of lower rank.
Thus it happened in the seventeenth century that the still
powerful nobility of higher rank was scorned and kept
down; but in the eighteenth century, when the gentlemen
of the robe had become all-powerful and therefore constituted
a dangerous party, it was they who became the
objects of scorn and persecution, while the aristocrats of
blood, the gentlemen of the court, recovered the royal
favors through their political powerlessness.</p>
<p>French aristocracy really had no object, no <i>raison d'être</i>,
after its disappearance from all governmental functions; it
became an encumbrance to the state; having no particular
part to play, it did nothing; this is one of the causes of its
dissolution and of the Revolution as well. Thus France
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page77" id="page77"></a>[pg 77]</span>
gradually passed from inequality of classes under the sanction
of custom to equality of classes before the law: this
change in the condition and constitution of the French
nobility accounts for many intrigues and scandals and explains
the social and moral actions of French women, as
well as the difference in the nature of their activities in the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.</p>
<p>The seventeenth was, <i>par excellence</i>, the century which
can boast of that incomparable society the cult of which was
the highest in all things—art, religion, philosophy, poetry,
politics, war, and beauty. From the convent of the Carmelites
to the Hôtel de Rambouillet, from the Place Royale
to the various châteaux and salons, we must seek only
that which is elevating and spiritual, beautiful and religious.
In the famous society which kept pace with the political
reputation and influence of France is found a coterie of
women who combined remarkable beauty and intelligence
with a high moral standard, and whose names are intimately
connected with the history of France. Where
again can we find such a galaxy of beauties as that formed
by Charlotte de Montmorency, Mme. de Chevreuse, Mme.
de Hautefort, Mme. de Montbazon, Mme. de Guémené,
Mme. de Châtillon, Mme. de Longueville, Marie de Gonzague,
Henriette de la Vallière, Mme. de Montespan, Mme.
de Maintenon, without enumerating such great writers and
leaders of salons as Mme. de Rambouillet, Mlle. de Scudéry,
Mme. de Lambert, Mme. de Sévigné, and Mme. de
la Fayette? The seventeenth century could tolerate no
mediocrity; grandeur was in the very atmosphere; its
political movements were great movements; it produced
in art a Poussin, in letters a Corneille, in science and philosophy a Descartes.</p>
<p>The various movements of which woman was the head
may be divided into two periods, and each period into two
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page78" id="page78"></a>[pg 78]</span>
parts. The political women may well be grouped about
Marie de' Medici,—whose career will not be given separate
treatment, inasmuch as there was no drop of French blood
in her veins,—and the social and literary women about
Mme. de Rambouillet and her salon. In the latter half of
the seventeenth century and at the beginning of the eighteenth,
politics are represented by Mme. de Montespan—the
mistress—and Mme. de Maintenon—the wife; social
life and literature have their purest representative in Mme.
de Lambert. The two queens of the seventeenth century,
Anne of Austria and Maria Theresa, were without influence;
the religious movement was represented by the
galaxy of women of whom we write in a later chapter.</p>
<p>After the death of Henry IV., Marie de' Medici succeeded
in having herself made queen-regent for Louis XIII., who
was then but nine years old. A woman of no particular
capacity, who had in no way adapted herself to French
life and customs, she allowed herself to be governed by
an adventurer, an Italian who understood and appreciated
French ideals no more than did Marie; these two—the
queen and Concini, her minister—immediately began to
concoct plans to gain control of the state. The king was
kept in virtual captivity until he reached the age of seventeen,
when, having asserted his rights, Concini was killed,
and Marie's dominant power and influence came to an abrupt end.</p>
<p>Louis XIII. reigned, with his minister, the Prince de
Luynes, from 1617 to 1624, when he became reconciled to
his mother and appointed her favorite, Richelieu, his minister.
From 1610 to about 1640, Marie de' Medici exercised
more or less influence, always of a nature disastrous to France.</p>
<p>After the king's death, Anne of Austria, as queen-regent,
with Mazarin, directed the destinies of France.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page79" id="page79"></a>[pg 79]</span>
During the ministry of the two cardinals, Richelieu and
Mazarin, occurred the political intrigues and astute diplomatic
movements of Mme. de Chevreuse and the unwise
and short-sighted aspirations of Mme. de Longueville.
These intimate friends were women of the highest intelligence,
most perfect beauty, and uncapitulating devotion,
and were working for the same cause, though from different motives.</p>
<p>Mme. de Chevreuse was the daughter of M. de Rohan,
Duke of Montbazon. She had married M. de Luynes,
the minister of Louis XIII., who overthrew the power of
Marie de' Medici, and who, by initiating his wife into his
secrets, gave her the schooling and experience which she
later used to such advantage. De Luynes presented her
at court with instructions to ingratiate herself with the
queen—Anne of Austria—and the king. In this design she
succeeded so well that she was soon made superintendent
of the household of the queen, and became as influential
with Anne as was her husband with the king.</p>
<p>In 1621 M. de Luynes died; a year later his widow married
Claude of Lorraine, Duke of Chevreuse; but as that
was an unhappy union, she soon began her career as an
intriguer. On the arrival of Lord Kensington, the English
ambassador, she fell in love with him, that escapade being
the first of a long series; the two proceeded to inveigle
Queen Anne into a liaison with the Duke of Buckingham,
which scheme, as history so well records, partly succeeded.</p>
<p>When Mme. de Chevreuse accompanied to England the
new queen, Henriette-Marie, wife of Charles I., both
Buckingham and Kensington outdid themselves in showing
her attention, Richelieu, fearing her influence and intrigues
at the court of England, hastened the recall of her
husband, but she received through her friends, from the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page80" id="page80"></a>[pg 80]</span>
English monarch himself, an invitation to remain; during
the time, she gave birth to a child.</p>
<p>Her next famous undertaking, which involved the lives
of various persons of high rank, was the scheme to persuade
Monsieur the Dauphin to refuse to marry Mlle. de
Montpensier; Queen Anne was opposed to this union, and
Mme. de Chevreuse gained to their cause a number of influential
friends who were all madly in love with her. The
ever vigilant Richelieu having discovered the plot, Monsieur
confessed. In this conspiracy, M. de Chalais lost his head,
other plotters lost their positions, and some were exiled.
Mme. de Chevreuse was forced to retire to Lorraine; there
she set in movement a vast plan against Richelieu and
France, allying England and various princes, but, by the
arrest of Montaigu, the plot was discovered, the alliance
broken up, and peace restored.</p>
<p>In 1626, by request of England, Mme. de Chevreuse returned
to France. For a time she was quiet and seemed
to favor Richelieu, but she soon captivated one of his ministers,
the Marquis of Châteauneuf. Richelieu discovered
the latter's weakness, and, having captured his correspondence,
sent him to prison, where he remained for ten
years. The fair intriguer was exiled to Dampierre, the
cardinal fearing to send her out of France on account of
her influence with the Duke of Lorraine. She managed to
steal into Paris at night and see the queen; when discovered,
she was sent to Touraine where she began the
dangerous task of carrying on the correspondence between
the Dukes of Savoy and Lorraine and England, and between
Spain and Queen Anne. Even when this correspondence
was intercepted and the queen confessed all,
Richelieu was afraid to banish Mme. de Chevreuse; though
he believed her to be at the bottom of all the current intrigues,
he knew that out of France she would stir up the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page81" id="page81"></a>[pg 81]</span>
rulers of England and Spain as well as the Duke of Lorraine
and others hostile to the cardinal.</p>
<p>Violence being out of the question, because of her influence
in England and of the prominence of her family, he
decided to win her over by kindness; he even sent her
money, but she was too shrewd to permit Richelieu to
outwit her, always paying him back in his own coin.
However, that kind of play was too dangerous for her and
she escaped to Spain. As soon as her departure became
known, Richelieu set to work every means in his power
to bring her back, sending her an urgent invitation to return
and promising to pardon her past. When his messages
reached her, she was already in Madrid, where she
was royally received as the friend of the king's sister,
Anne; there, by means of her beauty and wonderful intelligence,
she conquered every cavalier. When the war
broke out between France and Spain, she left for England
where she was welcomed like a visiting queen.</p>
<p>Richelieu, anxious for the support of the Duke of Lorraine
in his war against Spain and Austria, needed the
coöperation of Mme. de Chevreuse, and with that end in
view sent ambassadors to London to arrange for her return;
but an agreement was not an easy matter between two
such astute politicians, and negotiations went on unsuccessfully
for over a year. Her subtleness, apparent
docility and invincible precautions were pitted against the
artifices and dissimulation of the cardinal; both employed
all the astute manœuvres of diplomacy and exhausted the
resources of consummate skill in gaining the point desired
by each. The cardinal failed to convince her of her safety.</p>
<p>Mme. de Chevreuse soon formed about her a circle of
émigrés—Marie de' Medici, Duc La Vallette, Soubèse,
La Vieuville, and many others. This coterie was in open
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page82" id="page82"></a>[pg 82]</span>
correspondence with Spain, Austria, and the Duke of
Lorraine. From every side, Richelieu felt the intriguing
hand and influence of Mme. de Chevreuse, and decided to
put forth another effort to get her to return, this time
sending her husband; but not sure of the latter's sincerity
and in fear of him, the duchess concluded to leave England
for Flanders, and, escorted by a squad of dukes and lords,
departed like a queen.</p>
<p>At Brussels, she entered into open relations with Spain,
drawing over the Duke of Lorraine. She was accused of
being in the plot of Cinq-Mars and the Duke of Bouillon
with Spain; when Richelieu exposed this to Queen Anne,
the latter for the first time became her enemy. Just at
this time of his triumph, Richelieu died, his death being
followed soon after by that of Louis XIII., who left a
special order for the exile forever of Mme. de Chevreuse,
whom he called <i>Le Diable</i>. The queen-regent, however,
recalled her, and set at liberty her friend, Châteauneuf,
who had been imprisoned for ten years.</p>
<p>When Mme. de Chevreuse returned to Paris after an
absence of ten years, her beauty was still unimpaired, she
possessed an experience such as no man of the day could
boast, was personally acquainted with nearly every great
statesman and aware of the weak points in every court of
Europe. While she could now count on the support of the
majority of the princes, plots were being formed about
the queen-regent, the object of which was to persuade the
latter to give up the friends who had served her faithfully
for so many years. La Rochefoucauld was sent to
meet Mme. de Chevreuse and to inform her of the change
of attitude of the queen-regent; as her devoted friend, he
advised her to abandon, for the present, all hopes of governing
the queen and to devote herself entirely to regaining
her favor and to preparing for the possible fall of Mazarin.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page83" id="page83"></a>[pg 83]</span>
<p>After securing the release of her friend Châteauneuf,
Mme. de Chevreuse set to work to restore him to his
former office of Guard of the Seals, but did not succeed.
She then turned her attention to undermining the power
of Mazarin, agitating all émigrés returning to France and
starting the most outspoken denunciation of the policy of
the cardinal, his injustice and tyranny against the nobility.
The cries of disapproval became so general that Mazarin
was kept busy warding off the blows aimed at him by his
enemy; the latter succeeded in placing Châteauneuf as
<i>Chancelier des ordres du roi</i> and in having his estates restored
to him, while Alexandre de Campion she placed in
the household of the queen. Mazarin, living in constant
dread of her, managed to thwart two of her cherished
schemes—the restoration to the Duke of Vendôme of the
government of Brittany and the placing of Châteauneuf
in the ministry—upon the success of which depended her own influence and power.</p>
<p>Finding that ruse, flattery, insinuation, and ordinary
court intrigues were of no avail, she turned to other
methods. The Importants, a party made up of adventurers
and a large number of the nobility, were making themselves
felt more and more; they were opposed to Richelieu
and Mazarin, and Mme. de Chevreuse became their chief
and instigator. Failing to succeed with the cardinal's own
methods, she decided to assassinate him, but the plot was
discovered, the Duke of Beaufort was arrested and all the
princes of the party of the Importants were ordered to
leave Paris. Mme. de Chevreuse was compelled to depart
from court and retire to Dampierre, and then to Touraine,
where she did everything in her power to assist
the friends who had compromised themselves for her.
During her first exile she had had the consolation of the
friendship of the queen; but now she was banished by
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page84" id="page84"></a>[pg 84]</span>
the very friend whom she had served so well and who
had up to this time been able and willing to afford her
comfort and protection. Through Lord Goring, Count
Craft, and the Commander de Jars, she opened up correspondence
and negotiations with England, but was again
surprised by the vigilant Mazarin and sent to Angoulême;
determining to escape, after many hardships, she successfully
reached Liège; from there, as head of all foreign intrigues
against France, she continued to thwart Mazarin's foreign policy.</p>
<p>As soon as the first signs of the Fronde broke out,
Mme. de Chevreuse became active and succeeded in attracting
to her the young Marquis de Laigues with whom,
later on, she contracted a <i>mariage de conscience</i>. As ambassador
of the Fronde, she prevailed upon Spain to promise
troops and subsidies to her party. After the peace of
1649, she went to Paris where she found almost all her
friends ready to follow her and to pay her homage. It
was she who conceived the idea of an aristocratic league
which, under the auspices of the two great princes of the
blood, the Duke of Orléans and the Prince of Condé,
would unite the best part of the nobility.</p>
<p>Her plan was to marry her daughter to the Prince de
Conti and the young Duc d'Enghien to one of the daughters
of the Duke of Orléans. The contracts were signed
and all was in readiness when Mazarin was exiled, and
the following Frondists came into power: the Duke of
Orléans at court, Condé and Turenne at the head of the
army, Châteauneuf in the Cabinet, Molé in Parliament,
while Mme. de Chevreuse and Mme. de Longueville
managed to keep harmony among all. Queen Anne
in a short time annulled the marriage contracts; and
on the return of Mazarin, Mme. de Chevreuse took up
her work with him, the cardinal being wise enough to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page85" id="page85"></a>[pg 85]</span>
appreciate the fact that she was a greater force with than against him.</p>
<p>Strange as it may seem, Mme. de Chevreuse in time
became the great acting and controlling force of royalty,
winning over the Duke of Lorraine and becoming a staunch
friend to both the regent and the cardinal; after the death
of the latter, she became all-powerful, and it may be said
that she made Colbert what he was. In the fulness of her
power, she gradually retired, having seen, in turn, the
passing away or the fall of Richelieu, Mazarin, Louis XIII.,
Anne of Austria, the Queen of England, Châteauneuf, the
Duke of Lorraine, her daughter, and the Marquis de Laigues.
She ceased plotting, renounced politics and intrigues, and
retired to the country, where she died in 1679.</p>
<p>Mme. de Chevreuse was undoubtedly one of the most
important political characters of the seventeenth century,
just as she was also one of its greatest beauties—possibly
the most seductive and charming woman of her epoch. A
consummate diplomat and an untiring worker, she was at
the head of more intrigues and plots, had more thrilling
adventures, controlled and ruined more men, than any
other woman of her century, if not of all French history.
Thinking little of religion, she was yet in the very midst
of the Catholic party; unswerving in her friendships, she
scorned danger, opinion, fortune, for those whom she loved
or whose cause she espoused; an implacable foe, she was
the most dreaded enemy of both Richelieu and Mazarin.</p>
<p>With a remarkable ability for grasping the details of an
antagonist's position she combined all the other qualities
of an astute politician; thus, upon the desired consummation
of her plots she brought to bear a sagacity, finesse,
and energy that baffled all her adversaries. With her,
politics became a passion and a necessity; even while in
exile, her zeal was unflagging and she intrigued over all
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page86" id="page86"></a>[pg 86]</span>
Europe. Scorning peril as well as all petty restraints, and
characterized by courage, loyalty, and devotion, she was
without an equal among the members of her sex.</p>
<p>Mme. de Hautefort, while less powerful than Mme. de
Chevreuse and of quite a different type, is associated with
her in the history of the time. Pure, beautiful, and virtuous,
she everywhere inspired love and respect; without
political aspirations and seeking neither power nor favors,
she refused to deliver her soul or betray her friends for
Richelieu or Mazarin; she was their enemy, but not their rival.</p>
<p>Because of her desire to serve the queen, of whom she
was an intimate friend, and to further her interests, she was
connected with the first intrigues of Mme. de Chevreuse,
but as an innocent and disinterested party. Louis XIII.
conceived an ardent attachment for her, and Richelieu endeavored
to win her over to his policies, but she remained
faithful to her queen and refused to sacrifice her honor to the king.</p>
<p>The cardinal did not rest until he had prevailed upon the
king to exile her, ostensibly for only fifteen days; and as her
unselfishness and generosity had made an impression upon
the whole court, her departure was much regretted, though
no demonstration was made. When, after the king's death,
Mme. de Hautefort returned to Paris, she soon reëstablished
herself in the affection, admiration, and respect of her associates.</p>
<p>As Mazarin gained ascendency over Queen Anne, that
regent changed her policy and abandoned her former
friends. Mme. de Hautefort was opposed to the queen on
account of her liaison with her minister and her lack of
fidelity to those who, in time of trouble, had served her so
well. As <i>dame d'atours</i>, she was forced either to close her
eyes to all scenes between the cardinal and Anne or to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page87" id="page87"></a>[pg 87]</span>
combat the regent and resign. She was not to be tempted
by the honors and favors with which the two sought to
purchase her criminal connivance or her silence; preferring
poverty and exile to a guilty conscience, she soon retired
to the convent of the Daughters of Sainte-Marie, where
she was followed by her admirers, who were willing to
place themselves and their fortunes at her disposal. At
the age of thirty she accepted the hand of the Duke of
Schomberg, and, away from the court and its intrigues, lived in peace.</p>
<p>Indifferent to the powerful, but kind and compassionate
to the poor and oppressed, Mme. de Hautefort is a type of
those great women of the seventeenth century who stood
for honor, courage, generosity, sympathy, and virtue;
fervently, even austerely, religious, she was yet far removed
from anything resembling bigotry. Among the
ladies of the Hôtel de Rambouillet, she was one of the most
popular; her vivacity, modesty, and reserve, combined
with a tall figure, imposing bearing, and large, expressive
blue eyes, won the hearts of many cavaliers, among whom
the most prominent were the Dukes of Lorraine and La Rochefoucauld.</p>
<p>A close second to Mme. de Chevreuse in influence and
power, was Mme. de Longueville, a woman of exquisite
and aristocratic beauty, of brilliant mind, and an adept in
the art of conversation. Tender and kind, but ambitious,
she, like many others of her time and sex, had two distinct
periods—one of conquest and one of penitence and pious devotion.</p>
<p>Born in a prison at Vincennes during the captivity of her
father, the great Henry of Bourbon, Prince of Condé, she
in time developed remarkable personal charms. Her early
days were spent at the convent of the Carmelites and at
the Hôtel de Rambouillet, her mind—in these opposite
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page88" id="page88"></a>[pg 88]</span>
worlds of religion and society—being divided between
pious meditations and romantic dreams. At the time of
the execution at Toulouse of her uncle, M. de Montmorency,
she seriously considered entering the Carmelite convent.</p>
<p>Upon making her social début, she immediately became
one of the leaders about whom all the gallants gathered.
She formed a fast friendship with Mme. de Sablé, Mme. de
Rambouillet, Mme. de Bouteville, and Mlle. du Vigean.
Her beauty, which was quite phenomenal, soon became
the subject of poetry. Voltaire wrote:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"De perles, d'astres et de fleurs,</p>
<p>Bourbon, le ciel fit tes couleurs,</p>
<p>Et mit dedans tout ce mélange</p>
<p class="i2">L'esprit d'un ange!</p>
<p>L'on jugerait par la blancheur</p>
<p>De Bourbon, et par sa fraicheur,</p>
<p>Qu'elle a prit naissance des lis."</p>
</div> </div>
<p>[The heaven made thy colors, Bourbon, of pearls, of
stars, of flowers, and to all this mixture added the spirit
of an angel. One would judge by the whiteness and
freshness of Bourbon that she was born of the lilies.]</p>
<p>In 1642, at the age of twenty-three, she was married,
against her will, to M. de Longueville who was, after the
princes of the blood, the greatest seigneur of France; he
was old and indifferent, and enamored of another woman,
while she was young and full of hopes, ambitions, and
love. His conduct, being anything but correct, immediately
set the young wife, with her instincts of refinement
and principles and habits of the <i>précieuses</i>, against her
husband. The advent of a rival in the person of Mme. de
Montbazon, one of the most noted beauties of the day,
made the state of affairs even more unpleasant, the humiliation
being so much keener because it was on account of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page89" id="page89"></a>[pg 89]</span>
her charms that Montbazon was preferred to the wife.
The latter's fate was a cruel one; she could not respect
her husband, and, for her, respect was the only road to
love. She continued to live at the Hôtel de Longueville
and to attend all court functions, where, through her
beauty, she early became the object of much attention
from the young lords, among whom Coligny seemed to impress
her more than any other.</p>
<p>About this time occurred the deaths of Richelieu and
Louis XIII., and the Importants, flocking to Paris to regain
their rights and to share in the spoils of the new regency,
began to make themselves felt. The leaders expected great
favors from Anne of Austria who had been forced into
obedience by the cardinal, but she was a great disappointment
to them. A born lady of leisure, she was only too
glad to be relieved of the arduous duties of government,
and this her minister, Mazarin, quickly proceeded to do;
his first object was to crush the influence of the Importants,
who were very powerful in the salons, society, and politics.</p>
<p>The house of Condé declared in favor of Mazarin, but
at first this did not affect Mme. de Longueville, whose
kindness of heart and indifference to politics and intrigues
were generally known. Probably, she never would have
taken a part in the Fronde had it not been for the rival
who had been seeking, by every possible means, to injure
her reputation—a design which Mme. de Montbazon well-nigh
accomplished by declaring that two letters which, at
a reception, had fallen from the pocket of Coligny had
been written by Mme. de Longueville. In reality, they
had been written by Mme. de Fouquerolles to the Marquis
of Maulevrier. Mme. la Princesse, mother of Mme. de
Longueville demanded full reparation, threatening that
unless it was at once granted the house of Condé would
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page90" id="page90"></a>[pg 90]</span>
withdraw from court, and Mazarin managed to induce the
queen to compel Mme. de Montbazon to apologize publicly.
It may be of interest to give, in full, the apology, to show
the nature of court etiquette, hypocrisy, and intrigue of
that day. Mme. de Montbazon called at the hôtel of the
princess and spoke the following words, which were
written on a paper attached to her fan: "Madame, I come
here to attest that I am innocent of the spitefulness of
which they accuse me, there being no person of honor
capable of uttering such a calumny; and if I had committed
such a crime, I would have submitted to the punishments
that the queen would have imposed upon me, would never
have shown myself before the world again, and would
have asked your pardon. I beg you to believe that I shall
never be lacking in the respect that I owe you because of
the opinion which I have of the merit and virtue of
Mme. de Longueville." To which the princess replied:
"I very willingly receive the assurance you give me of
having had no part in the spitefulness that was published,
deferring all to the order the queen has given me."</p>
<p>After this episode, the princess refused to be in the
same place with Mme. de Montbazon. On one occasion,
Mme. de Chevreuse had invited the queen to a collation
at a place where the queen enjoyed walking; she requested
the princess to join her, giving her word of honor
that Mme. de Montbazon would not be there; she was
present, however, and the princess was about to leave
when the queen ordered Mme. de Montbazon to feign illness
and retire; this she refused to do and remained, whereupon
the queen and the princess left, and shortly afterward
Mme. de Montbazon received orders to leave Paris.</p>
<p>This excited the Importants to fever heat and a plot was
formed, with Mme. de Chevreuse as the leader, to assassinate
the cardinal. Shortly after this, Coligny, as champion
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page91" id="page91"></a>[pg 91]</span>
of the cause of Mme. de Longueville, challenged the Duc
de Guise to a duel. The whole court was made up of two
parties: the Importants with Mme. de Montbazon and
Mme. de Chevreuse; and Condé and Mme. de Longueville
with their friends; the result was the death of Coligny.
Mme. de Longueville was a true <i>précieuse</i> and hardly loved
Coligny, but allowed him and any other to serve and adore
her in a respectable way—a principle followed by the
better women of the age, such as Mme. de Rambouillet and Mme. de Sablé.</p>
<p>Some time after these occurrences, Mme. de Longueville
was stricken with smallpox which, fortunately, did not
impair her beauty; it was said, on the contrary, that in
taking away its first flower it left all the brilliancy which,
joined to her culture and charming languor, made her one
of the most attractive persons in France. La Rochefoucauld
has left the following picture of her: "This princess
had all the advantages of <i>esprit</i> and beauty to as great a
degree as if nature had taken pleasure in completing, in her
person, a perfect work; but these qualities shone less brilliantly
on account of one characteristic which led her to
imbibe so thoroughly the sentiments of those who adored
her that she no longer recognized her own."</p>
<p>After her twenty-fifth year, Mme. de Longueville became
more and more imbued with the general spirit of the
seventeenth century: coquetry and <i>bel esprit</i> became her
chief occupation. The glory of her brother, the Duc
d'Enghien, who was rapidly becoming a power, and the
probability of the house of Condé becoming dangerous,
made Mazarin realize that Mme. de Longueville was to be
reckoned with, inasmuch as she had full control over
D'Enghien and was constantly instilling new ideas into
his mind and requesting from him the distribution of all
sorts of favors. Mazarin, in 1646, succeeded in causing
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page92" id="page92"></a>[pg 92]</span>
her withdrawal to Münster for one year; there she ruled
as queen of the Congress. On the death of her father,
the Prince of Condé, and at the request of her mother to
come home for her lying-in, the husband of Mme. de
Longueville consented to her return to Paris.</p>
<p>In the meantime, everything was being done by the
Importants to win over the house of Condé and cause a
breach between it and Mazarin. The court at this time
was in full glory; to amuse the queen-regent, Mazarin
was lavishing money on artists from Italy, and the nobility
outdid itself in its attempts to rival royalty in elegance
and luxury. Upon her return, everyone paid homage to
Mme. de Longueville; it was at this period that La Rochefoucauld,
who was anxious about his position at court, as
he was accused of being in league with the Importants and
was therefore refused the favors he desired, met Mme. de
Longueville who was in the height of her glory and in full
control of the most prominent house of the time—that of
the Duc d'Enghien and the Prince de Conti, her brothers.</p>
<p>In order to conquer for himself what the cardinal would
not grant him, La Rochefoucauld put forth every effort to
win Mme. de Longueville; captivated by his fine appearance,
his chivalry and, above all, by his powerful intellect,
she gave herself up entirely, willing to share his destiny,
to sacrifice all her interests, even those of her family, and
the deepest sentiment of her life—the tenderness for her brother.</p>
<p>France at this time, 1648, was in a position to gain for
herself a peace with the world at her own terms, and her
future seemed to be without a cloud. It was the Fronde
that checked her growth and glory, and the cause of this
was the estrangement of the house of Condé through the
action of Mme. de Longueville in passing with her husband
over to the party of the Importants, she being the first of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page93" id="page93"></a>[pg 93]</span>
her family to forsake the government. Under the leadership
of La Rochefoucauld, she cast her lot with the opposing
party, allowing herself to be identified with the interests
of those who had endeavored to tarnish her early reputation.
Becoming a leader with Mme. de Chevreuse and
Mme. de Montbazon (her rival), she easily won over her
young brother, the Prince de Conti. After the imprisonment
of her husband and her two brothers, she began her
real career as a woman of tactics, politics, and generalship.</p>
<p>With the connivance of Mme. de Chevreuse and the
Princess Palatine, a general plan had been formed to
create a new government by the union of the aristocracy.
The marriage, already spoken of, between the Duke of
Enghien and one of the daughters of the Duke of Orléans
and that arranged between the Prince of Conti and the
daughter of Mme. de Chevreuse were to have united the
Fronde with the house of Condé. The alliances, however,
were declared off, and Mme. de Chevreuse went over to
the cardinal and the queen; Condé's fall and Mazarin's
success followed, being the result, mainly, of the determination
of Mme. de Chevreuse to avenge herself upon
Condé for having consented to the breaking of the marriage contracts.</p>
<p>Mme. de Longueville did all in her power to continue the
conflict that Condé had undertaken, but, exhausted by
continual excitement and ill success, she was compelled to
retire. After this, her life, spent in Normandy, at the
Carmelites' convent and at Port Royal, became a long penance,
which increased in austerity until she died in 1679.
Thus, her career was at first one of unblemished brilliancy,
then a period of elegant and intellectual debauch, and finally one of expiation.</p>
<p>"Her politics," says Sainte-Beuve, "considered in the
<i>ensemble</i>, are nothing more than a desire to please, to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page94" id="page94"></a>[pg 94]</span>
shine—a capricious love. Her character lacked consistency
and self-will, her mind was keen, ready, subtle, ingenious, but not reasonable."</p>
<p>In her convent life, her crowning virtue was humility.
Her enemies did not cease to attack her, but she received
all their affronts with the noblest resignation. The following
testimonies are taken from a Jansenist manuscript of 1685:</p>
<p>"She never said anything to her own advantage. She
made use of as many occasions as she could find for
humiliating herself without any affectation. What she
said, she said so well that it could not be better said. She
listened much, never interrupted, and never showed any
eagerness to speak. She spoke sensibly, modestly, charitably,
and without passion. To court her was to speak
with equity and without passion of everyone and to esteem
the good in all. Her whole exterior, her voice, her face,
her gestures, were a perfect music; and her mind and
body served her so well in expressing what she wished to
make heard, that she appeared the most perfect actress in the world."</p>
<p>Her love for La Rochefoucauld was the secret of her
failure in life. When she experienced the disappointments
of her married life and discovered that her dream of being
loved by her husband could not be realized, she looked to
other sources for diversion. She was not an intriguing
woman like Mme. de Chevreuse, but one of ambitions
which were incited by her love for and interest in the
objects of her affection. Although she carried on flirtations
with Coligny and the Duke of Nemours, she really loved
no one but La Rochefoucauld, to whom she sacrificed her
reputation and tranquillity, her duties and interests. For
him she took up the cause of the Fronde; for him she was
a mere slave, her entire existence being given up to his
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page95" id="page95"></a>[pg 95]</span>
love, his whims, his service; when he failed her, she was
lost, exhausted, and retired to a convent at the age of
thirty-five and in the full bloom of her beauty. Her
professed lover simply used her as a means to an end,
seeking only his own interests in the Fronde, while she
sought his; and this is the explanation of her seeming
inconsistency of conduct. In her religious life she was
happy and contented; surrounded by her friends, she lived
peacefully for over twenty years.</p>
<p>Thus, Marie de' Medici, a foreigner, Mme. de Chevreuse,
and Mme. de Longueville represent the political women of
the first half of the seventeenth century; Anne of Austria,
who was of foreign extraction, was a mere tool in the
hands of Mazarin, and exerted little influence in general.</p>
<p>One of the principal differences between the conspicuous
political women of the sixteenth and those of the
seventeenth centuries lies in the possession by the latter
of less personal force than that wielded by the former,
who allowed nothing to thwart their plans. The women
of both periods were beautiful, but those of the earlier one
were of a magnetic and sensual type, "inspiring insensate
passions and exciting a feverish unrest," thus ruling man
through his lower instincts. The lack of refinement, sympathy,
and charity reflected in their actions is in glaring
contrast to the dignity, repose, reserve, and womanly
modesty and grace displayed by their less masterful successors
of the seventeenth century.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page97" id="page97"></a>[pg 97]</span>
<h2>Chapter IV</h2>
<h2>Woman in Society and Literature</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page99" id="page99"></a>[pg 99]</span>
<p>At the beginning of the seventeenth century, after the
death of Henry IV., there were three classes in France,—the
nobility, clergy, and third estate,—each with a distinct
field of action: the nobility dominated customs, morality,
and the government; the clergy supervised instruction and
education; the third estate furnished the funds, that is, its
work made possible the operations of the other classes.</p>
<p>At court, various dialects and diverse pronunciations
were in use by the representatives of the different provinces;
the written language, though understood generally,
was not used. Warriors were largely in evidence among
the members of the nobility and court; entirely indifferent
to decency of expression, purity of morals, and refinement
of manners, and even boasting of their scorn of all restrictions,
they took their boisterous rudeness into the drawing
room where their influence was unlimited. The king,
being of the same class, knew no better, or, if he did,
had not the moral courage to compel a change; thus,
the institution of a reformatory movement fell to the lot of woman.</p>
<p>Then, however, woman was but little better than man;
to gain his esteem, she would first have to make radical
changes in her own behavior and become self-respecting.
The customs of the time placed many disadvantages in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page100" id="page100"></a>[pg 100]</span>
the way of her social and moral reform. As a rule, the
young girl was confined to a convent until she reached
marriageable age; when that came and with it an undesired
husband, she was ready for almost any prank that
would relieve the monotony of her uncongenial marital
relations. The convents themselves were so corrupt or
so easily corruptible, that, very frequently, young girls
did not leave them with unstained purity. To certain of
these institutions, women and men of standing often bought
the privilege of access at any time, to drink, dine, sleep, or
attend sacred exercises with other persons; thus, libertinage
was not uncommon within the walls of those so-called religious establishments.</p>
<p>Mme. de Rambouillet felt most keenly the degradation
of woman and resolved to act against it by combating
everything that could offend taste or delicacy. As in the
beginning of every great age, all things tended to greatness.
A period of discipline and coördination set in, and
elegance, grace, and refinement became the most pronounced
characteristics of the time; rough, crude, robust,
vigorous, and energetic characteristics, combined with
coarseness and brutality, were eliminated during the seventeenth
century. The women who caused this general
purification of morals and language were given the name
of <i>précieuses</i> and the movement that of <i>préciosité</i>.</p>
<p>The extent to which the <i>précieuses</i> went in inventing
locutions by which they were to be recognized as elegant,
is generally exaggerated; Livet says that out of six hundred
women hardly thirty could be accused of such fatuity.
The wiser and more conservative women did adopt a large
number of expressions which were necessary for refinement
of language and these classicisms were exaggerated
by some of the provincial classes who received their expressions
from books and the theatre; such authors as
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page101" id="page101"></a>[pg 101]</span>
Corneille, etc., were studied and their poetic licenses introduced
into spoken language. These follies, pictured by
Molière, naturally afforded much amusement in cultured
circles where every event of the day was discussed, from
the vital affairs of the government to the æsthetic interests
of art and literature.</p>
<p>The tremendous vogue of the seventeenth century salons
or drawing rooms naturally gave a stimulus to literature;
but, as they were so numerous and as each one claimed its
large coterie of literary men, they proved to be disastrous
to some while helpful to others. Two distinct classes of
writers arose: the one, serious, elevated, thoughtful, classical,
and independent of the salon, is well represented by
Molière, Pascal, Boileau; the other, light, affected, gallant,
superficial, was composed of the innumerable unimportant writers of the day.</p>
<p>The salon movement must not be confounded with two
other social movements or forces—those of court and society;
while at the former all was formality, the latter was
still gross and brutish. The Marquis de Caze, at a supper
seized a leg of mutton and struck his neighbor in the face
with it, sprinkling her with gravy, whereupon she laughed
heartily; the Count of Brégis, slapped by the lady with
whom he was dancing, tore off her headdress before the
whole company; Louis XIII., noticing in the crowd admitted
to see him dine a lady dressed too <i>décolleté</i>,
filled his mouth with wine and squirted the liquid into
the bosom of the unfortunate girl; the Prince of Condé,
indulging in customary brutishness, ate dung and had the
ladies follow his example; these are fair illustrations of
social <i>elegances</i>.</p>
<p>As will be seen, nothing of this nature occurred in the
salon of Mme. de Rambouillet, whose object was to charm
her leisure hours, distract and amuse the husband whom
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page102" id="page102"></a>[pg 102]</span>
she adored, and be agreeable to her friends. Her amusements
were most original—concerts, mythological representations,
suppers, fireworks, comedies, readings, always
something new, often in the form of a surprise or a joke.
Of the latter, the best known is the one played on the
Count of Guise whose fondness for mushrooms had become
proverbial; on one occasion when he had consumed
an immense number of them at table, his valet, who had
been bribed, took in all his doublets; on trying to put them
on again, he found them too narrow by fully four inches.
"What in the world is the matter—am I all swollen—could
it be due to having eaten too many mushrooms?" "That
is quite possible," said Chaudebonne; "yesterday you ate
enough of them to split." All the accomplices joined in
ridiculing him, and he began to squirm and show a somewhat
livid color. Mass was rung, and he was compelled
to attend in his chamber robe. Laughing, he said: "That
would be a fine end—to die at the age of twenty-one from
having eaten too many mushrooms." In the meantime,
Chaudebonne advised the use of an antidote which he
wrote and handed to the count, who read: "Take a good
pair of scissors and cut your doublet." Only then did the
victim comprehend the joke.</p>
<p>One day, Voiture, having met a bear trainer, took him
with his animals to the room of the Marquise de Rambouillet;
she, turning at the noise, saw four large paws
resting upon her screen. She readily forgave the author
of the surprise. Du Bled relates many more of these innocent jokes.</p>
<p>Among the congenial people of the salons, the relations
were always of the most cordial, friendly, free, and
intimate nature; they were like the members of a large
family. By them, love was not considered a weakness
but a mark of the elevation of the soul, and every man
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page103" id="page103"></a>[pg 103]</span>
had to be sensitive to beauty. When the Duchesse
d'Aiguillon presented to society her nephew, who later became
the Duke of Richelieu, she advised and encouraged
him to complete his education and make of himself an
<i>honnête homme</i> by association with the elder Mlle. du
Vigean and other women; the object of this procedure was
to polish his manners, elevate his instincts, and develop
ease in deportment toward the ladies. There was no hint
of the vulgar or licentious pleasures which became the
characteristics of love in the eighteenth century.</p>
<p>The woman who inaugurated the movement toward
purity of morals, decency of language, polish of manners,
and courtesy to woman, was Mme. de Rambouillet. Cathérine
de Vivonne, Marquise de Rambouillet, whose mother
was a great Roman lady and whose father had been ambassador
to Rome, inherited that pride of race and independence
of spirit for which she was so well known.
In 1600, she was married, at the age of twelve, to the
Marquis de Rambouillet who was her senior by eleven
years, but who treated her with deference and respect
rare at that time. Husband and wife were perfectly congenial,
and their happy and peaceful life was a great
contrast to that led by the majority of the married couples
of the day. Absolutely irreproachable in conduct, she set
a worthy example for all women who knew her.</p>
<p>Her high ideals, independence of character, family duties,
and the general debauchery, which was incompatible with
her rigid chastity and "precocious wisdom," caused her to
withdraw from the court in 1608; two years later, she decided
to open her salon to such aristocratic and cultured
persons as appreciated womanly grace, wit, and taste.
Her familiarity with Italian and Spanish history and art
placed her at the head of intellectual as well as moral
movements. She surrounded herself with the distinguished
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page104" id="page104"></a>[pg 104]</span>
men and women of the day, and her salon, which in every
detail was decorated and arranged for pleasure, immediately
became, through the exquisite charm with which
she presided, the one goal of the cultured; her blue room
was the sanctuary of polite society and she was its high priestess.</p>
<p>The highest ambition of the <i>habitué</i> of the salon was to
sing, dance, and converse artistically and with refinement.
A reaction against the general social state immediately set
in, even the brusque warriors acquiring a refinement of
speech and manners; and as conversation developed and
became a power, the great lords began to respect men of
letters and to cultivate their society. Anyone who possessed
good manners, vivacity, and wit was admitted to
the salon, where a new and more elevating sociability was the aspiration.</p>
<p>Mme. de Rambouillet was very particular in the choice
of friends, and they were always sincere and devoted,
knowing her to be undesirous of political favors and incapable
of stooping to intrigue. Even Richelieu could not,
as compensation to him for a favor to her husband, induce
her to act as spy on some of the frequenters of her salon.</p>
<p>While not a woman of remarkable beauty, she was the
personification of reason and virtue; her unassuming frankness,
exquisite tact, and exceptional reserve discouraged
all advances on the part of those gallants who frequented
every mansion and were always prepared to lay siege to
the heart of any fair woman. Her wide culture, versatility,
modesty, goodness, fidelity, and disinterestedness caused
her to be universally sought. Mlle. de Scudéry, in her
novel <i>Cyrus</i>, leaves a fine portrait of her:</p>
<p>"The spirit and soul of this marvellous person surpass
by far her beauty: the first has no limits in its extent and
the other has no equal in its generosity, goodness, justice,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page105" id="page105"></a>[pg 105]</span>
and purity. The intellect of Cléomire (Mme. de Rambouillet)
is not like that of those whose minds have no
brilliancy except that which nature has given them, for
she has cultivated it carefully, and I think I can say that
there are no <i>belles connaissances</i> that she has not acquired.
She knows various languages, and is ignorant of hardly
anything that is worth knowing; but she knows it all
without making a display of knowing it; and one would
say, in hearing her talk, 'she is so modest that she speaks
admirably of things, through simple common sense only';
on the contrary, she is versed in all things; the most advanced
sciences are not beyond her, and she is perfectly
acquainted with the most difficult arts. Never has any
person possessed such a delicate knowledge as hers of fine
works of prose and poetry; she judges them, however,
with wonderful moderation, never abandoning <i>la bienséance</i>
(the seemliness) of her sex, though she is far above it.
In the whole court, there is not a person with any spirit
and virtue that does not go to her house. Nothing is
considered beautiful if it does not have her approval; no
stranger ever comes who does not desire to see Cléomire
and do her homage, and there are no excellent artisans
who do not wish to have the glory of her approbation of
their works. All people who write in Phénicie have sung
her praises; and she possesses the esteem of everyone to
such a marvellous degree that there is no one who has
ever seen her who has not said thousands of favorable
things about her—who has not been charmed likewise by
her beauty, <i>esprit</i>, sweetness, and generosity."</p>
<p>Mlle. de Scudéry describes the salon of Mme. de Rambouillet in the following:</p>
<p>"Cléomire (Mme. de Rambouillet) had built, according
to her own design, a place which is one of the finest in the
world; she has found the art of constructing a palace of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page106" id="page106"></a>[pg 106]</span>
vast extent in a situation of mediocre grandeur. Order,
harmony, and elegance are in all the apartments, and in
the furniture also; everything is magnificent, even unique;
the lamps are different from those of other palaces, her
cabinets are full of objects which show the judgment of
her who chose them. In her palace, the air is always
scented; many baskets full of magnificent flowers make a
continual spring in her room, and the place which she
frequents ordinarily is so agreeable and so imaginative
as to make one feel as if she were in some enchanted place."</p>
<p>The very names of the frequenters of the salon of Mme.
de Rambouillet testify to the prominence of her position in
the world of culture: Mlle. de Scudéry, Mlle. du Vigean;
Mmes. de Longueville, de la Vergne, de La Fayette, de
Sablé, de Hautefort, de Sévigné, de la Suze, Marie de Gonzague,
Duchesse d'Aiguillon, Mmes. des Houlières, Cornuel,
Aubry, and their respective husbands; the great
literary men: Rotrou, Scarron, Saint-Evremond, Malherbe,
Racan, Chapelain, Voiture, Conrart, Benserade, Pellisson,
Segrais, Vaugelas, Ménage, Tallemant des Réaux, Balzac,
Mairet, Corneille, Bossuet, etc. In the entire period of
the French salon, no other such brilliant gathering of men
and women of social standing, princely blood, genuine intelligence,
and literary ability ever assembled from motives
other than those of politics or intrigue; here was a gathering
purely social and for purposes of mutual refinement.
The nobility went through a process of polishing, and the
men of letters sharpened their intelligence and modified
their manners and customs.</p>
<p>Julie, Duchess of Montausier, and Angélique, daughters
of Mme. de Rambouillet, were popular, but the former lost
much of her charm after she sacrificed her independence of
thought and action by becoming governess of the children
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page107" id="page107"></a>[pg 107]</span>
of the queen. Julie was the centre of attraction for all
perfumed rhymesters, all sighers in prose and verse, who
thronged about her. The stern and unbending Duke
of Montausier was so under her influence that in 1641 he
arranged and laid before her shrine the famous <i>guirlande</i>
which was illustrated by Robert and to which nineteen
authors contributed. After her marriage to the duke, the
Hôtel de Rambouillet may be said to have ceased to exist,
as madame, who was seventy years of age, had for a
number of years kept herself in the background, and Julie
had become the acknowledged leader.</p>
<p>With the outbreak of the Fronde, friends were separated
by their individual interests and the reunions at the salon
were interrupted from about 1650 to 1652. After the death
of her husband, Mme. de Rambouillet retired, to reside
with her daughter, Mme. de Montausier; after that, she
seldom appeared in public. She hardly lived to see the
spirit of the salon changed to the real <i>préciosité</i>—the direction
and aim she gave to it being gradually abandoned.</p>
<p>In her salon, for nearly fifty years, no pedantry, no
loose manners, no questionable characters, no social or
political intrigues, no discourtesies of any kind, were recorded;
hers was a reign of dignity and grace, of purity
of language, manners, and morals. She died in 1665, at
the advanced age of seventy-seven, esteemed and mourned
by the entire social and intellectual world of France. Her
influence was incalculable; it was the first time in the
history of France that refined taste, intellectuality, and
virtue had won importance, influence, and power.</p>
<p>It must be remembered that in the first period of the
salon there were no blue-stockings, no pedants: these
were later developments. It was, primarily, a gathering
which found pleasure in parties, excursions, concerts, balls,
fireworks, dramatic performances, living tableaux; the last
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page108" id="page108"></a>[pg 108]</span>
form of amusement very strongly influenced the development
of the art, for in the galleries there appeared a surprisingly
large number of portraits of the women of the
day in character—sometimes as a nymph, sometimes as a goddess.</p>
<p>The salon, in its first phase, showed and developed tolerance
in religion as well as in art and literature. It also
encouraged progress and displayed acute discrimination,
keeping pace with the time in all that was new and meritorious.
It developed individual liberty, public interest,
criticism, good taste, and the elegant, clear, and precise
conversational language in which France has excelled up to the present day.</p>
<p>When about to build the Hôtel Pisani, Mme. de Rambouillet,
having no love for architects, planned its construction
without their assistance. She revolutionized
the architecture of the time by introducing large and high
doors and windows and putting the stairway to one side in
order to secure a large suite of rooms. She was also the
first to decorate a room in other colors than red or tan.
The construction of her hôtel completely changed domestic
architecture; and it may be noted that when the Luxembourg
was to be built, the designers were instructed to
examine, for ideas, the Hôtel de Rambouillet.</p>
<p>Legouvé gives as the object and mission of Mme. de
Rambouillet: "to combat the sensualism of Rabelais,
Villon, and Marot, to reform society through love by reforming
love through chastity; to place women at the
head of civilization, by beginning a crusade against vice in
the disguise of sentiment. The word 'fame' must, in the
seventeenth century, apply to both man and woman, meaning
honor for the one and purity for the other. Her ideal
falls with the accession of Louis XIV.; the dazzling luxury
of royalty hardly conceals, under its exterior elegance,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page109" id="page109"></a>[pg 109]</span>
the profound and deep-seated grossness of Versailles and Marly."</p>
<p>To Mme. de Rambouillet, then, belongs the distinction
of having been the first to bring together men of letters
and great lords on a footing of social equality and for
mutual benefit. Her salon and friends continued in the
seventeenth century what Marguerite d'Angoulême had
begun in the first part of the sixteenth—an intellectual,
social, and moral reform.</p>
<p>Many salons which were all more or less patterned after
that of Rambouillet sprang into existence. Among these
the Academy of the Vicomtesse d'Auchy, with Malherbe
as president and tyrant, was of little influence as far as
women were concerned. The members were all of second-rate
importance, and Malherbe tolerated only the discussion
of his verses, while Mme. d'Auchy was better known
for her splendid neck than for any intellectuality. Every
salon had a master of ceremonies, who performed the rite
of presentation; these men were frequently abbés, and
some of them, such as Du Buisson and Testu, became famous.</p>
<p>Among the most noted of these salons was that of the
celebrated beauty, Ninon de Lenclos, she who called
the <i>précieuses</i> the "Jansenists of love," an expression
which became very popular. Her salon was situated on
the Rue des Tournelles. Ninon de Lenclos was a woman
of the most brilliant mind and exquisite taste, and it was
at her hôtel that Molière first read his <i>Tartuffe</i> before
Condé, La Fontaine, Boileau, Lulli, Racine, and Chapelle,
and it was there that he received the principal ideas for his drama.</p>
<p>Ninon became famous for making staunch friends of her
former lovers, in which connection some interesting tales
are told. She was the mother of two children; upon the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page110" id="page110"></a>[pg 110]</span>
arrival of the first, a heated discussion arose between
Count d'Estrées and Abbé d'Effiat, both claiming the
honor of paternity. When the mother was consulted, she
made no attempt to conceal her amusement; finally, the
rivals threw dice for "father or not father."</p>
<p>The other child, whose father was the Marquis de Gersay,
was the victim of an unnatural passion for his mother
with whom, when a young man, he fell desperately in
love, being ignorant of their relation. While pleading his
cause, he learned from her lips the secret, and, in despair,
blew out his brains, a tragedy which apparently had no
effect upon the mother. At one time, at the request of
the clergy Ninon was sent, for impiety, to the convent
of the Benedictines at Lagny.</p>
<p>Among her friends she counted the greatest men and
women of the day and her salon was the foyer of <i>savoir-vivre</i>,
of letters and art. At the age of sixty she met the
Great Condé, who dismounted to greet her, something
that he very seldom did, as he was not in the habit of
paying compliments to women. The saying: <i>Elle eut
l'estime de Lenclos</i> [she had the esteem of Lenclos] became
a popular manner of expressing the fact that a certain
woman was especially esteemed. Even to the last (she
died at the age of eighty-five), Ninon preserved her grace,
beauty, and intelligence. Colombey calls her <i>La mère
spirituelle de Voltaire</i> [the spiritual mother of Voltaire].</p>
<p>The generality of women had their lovers; even the
famous Mlle. de Scudéry, in spite of her homeliness—she
was a dark, large-boned, and lean sort of old maid—had
admirers galore; among the latter was Pellisson who was
said to be so ugly "that he really abused the privilege—which
man enjoys—of being homely."</p>
<p>The hôtel of the famous poet Scarron—Hôtel de l'Impécuniosité—received
almost all the frequenters of Ninon's
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page111" id="page111"></a>[pg 111]</span>
salon. At the former place there were no restrictions as
to the manner of enjoyment; after elevating and edifying
conversation at the salon of Ninon, the members would
repair to that of Scarron for a feast of <i>broutilles rabelaisiennes</i>
[Rabelaisian tidbits].</p>
<p>The salon of Mme. de Montbazon had its frequenters
who, however, were attracted mainly by her beauty; she
was, to use the words of one of her friends, "One of
those beauties that delight the eye and provoke a vigorous
appetite." Her salon was one of suitors rather than of
intellectuality or harmless sociability.</p>
<p>The most famous of the men's salons was the Temple,
constructed in 1667 by Jacques de Souvré and conducted
from 1681 to 1720 by Phillipe de Vendôme and his intendant,
Abbé de Chaulieu. These reunions, especially under
the latter, were veritable midnight <i>convivia</i>; he himself
boasted of never having gone to bed one night in thirty
years without having been carried there dead drunk, a
custom to which he remained "faithful unto death." His
boon companion was La Duchesse de Bouillon. Most of
his frequenters were jolly good persons, utterly destitute
of the sense of sufficiency in matters of carousing; the
better people declined his invitations.</p>
<p>After that of Mme. de Rambouillet, there were, in the
seventeenth century, but two great salons that exerted a
lasting influence and that were not saturated with the decadent
<i>préciosité</i>. Of these the salon of Mlle. de Scudéry
has been called the salon of the <i>bourgeoisie</i>, because the
majority of its frequenters belonged to the third estate,
which was rapidly acquiring power and influence.</p>
<p>Mlle. de Scudéry, who was born in 1608 and lived
through the whole century, saw society develop, and
therefore knew it better than did any of her contemporaries.
Having lost her parents early in life, her uncle
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page112" id="page112"></a>[pg 112]</span>
reared her and she received advantages such as fell to
the lot of few women of her condition; she was given an
excellent education in literature, art, and the languages.</p>
<p>Until the marriage of her brother, she was his constant
and devoted companion, exiling herself to Marseilles when
he was appointed governor of Notre Dame de La Garde,
and returning to Paris with him in 1647. She first collaborated
with him in a literary production of about eighty
volumes. In their works, the brother furnished the rough
draft, the dramatic episodes, adventures, and the Romanesque
part, while she added the literary finish through
charming character sketches, conversation, sentimental
analyses, and letters. With a strong inclination toward
society, and constantly fulfilling its obligations, she would
from day to day write up her conversations of the evening before.</p>
<p>An interesting anecdote is told in connection with the
travels and coöperation of Mlle. de Scudéry and her
brother; once, on the way to Paris, while stopping over
night at Lyons, they were discussing the fate of one of
their heroes, one proposing death and the other rescue,
one poison and the other a more cruel death; a gentleman
from Auvergne happened to overhear them and immediately
notified the people of the inn, thinking it was a question
of assassinating the king; the brother and sister were
thrown into prison and only with great difficulty were they
able to explain matters the next morning. From this incident
Scribe drew the material for his drama, <i>L'Auberge ou
les Brigands sans le Savoir</i>.</p>
<p>At the Hôtel de Rambouillet where Mlle. de Scudéry
was received early, she won everyone by her modesty,
simplicity, <i>esprit</i>, and lovable disposition, and, in spite of
her homeliness and poor figure, she attracted many platonic
lovers. She was one of the few brilliant and famous
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page113" id="page113"></a>[pg 113]</span>
women of the seventeenth century whose popularity was
due solely to admirable qualities of mind and soul. With
her, friendship became a cult, and it was in time of trouble
that her friends received the strongest proof of her affection.
She preferred to incur disgrace and the disfavor of
Mazarin rather than forsake Condé and Madame de Longueville;
to them she dedicated the ten volumes, successively,
of her novel, <i>Cyrus</i>; the last volume was published after
Mme. de Longueville's retirement and partial disgrace.</p>
<p>After the brilliant society of the Hôtel de Rambouillet
had been broken up by the marriage of Julie and the operations
of the Fronde, and after her brother's marriage in
1654, Mlle. de Scudéry became independent and established
the custom of receiving her friends on Saturday; these
receptions became famous under the name of <i>Samedi</i>, and
besides the regular rather bourgeois gathering, the most
brilliant talent and highest nobility flocked to them, regardless
of rank or station, wealth or influence. Pellisson, the
great master, the prince, the Apollo of her Saturdays, was
a man of wonderfully inventive genius, and possessed in a
higher degree than any of his contemporaries the art of inventing
surprises for the society that lived on novelty.
When, on account of his devotion to Fouquet, he was imprisoned
in the Bastille, Mlle. de Scudéry managed to persuade
Colbert to brighten his confinement by permitting
him to see friends and relatives. Part of every day she
spent in his prison, conversing and reading; and this is
but one instance of her fidelity and friendship.</p>
<p>Mlle. de Scudéry, considering all men as aspirants for authority
who, when husbands, degenerate into tyrants, preferred
to retain her independence. Her ideas on love were
very peculiar and were innovations at the time: she wished
to be loved, but her love must be friendship—a pure, platonic
love, in which her lover must be her all, her confidant,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page114" id="page114"></a>[pg 114]</span>
the participator in her sorrows and her conversation; and
his happiness must be in her alone; he must, without feeling
passion, love her for herself, and she must have the
same feeling toward him. These sentiments are expressed
in her novels, from which the following extracts are taken:</p>
<p>"When friendship becomes love in the heart of a lover
or when this love is mingled with friendship without
destroying it, there is nothing so sweet as this kind of
love; for as violent as it is, it is always held somewhat
more in check than is ordinary love; it is more durable,
more tender, more respectful, and even more ardent,
although it is not subject to so many tumultuous caprices
as is that love which arises without friendship. It can be
said that love and friendship flow together like two streams,
the more celebrated of which obscures the name of the
other." ... "They agreed on even the conditions
of their love; for Phaon solemnly promised Sapho (Mlle.
de Scudéry)—who desired it thus—not to ask of her anything
more than the possession of her heart, and she, also,
promised him to receive only him in hers. They told each
other all their thoughts, they understood them even without
confessing them. Peace, however, was not so completely
established that their affection could not become
languishing or cool; for, although they loved each other as
much as one can love, they at times complained of not
being loved enough, and they had sufficient little difficulties
to always leave something new to wish for; but they
never had any troubles that were serious enough to essentially
disturb their repose."</p>
<p>Mlle. de Scudéry was mistress of the art of conversation,
speaking without affectation and equally well on all
affairs, serious, light, or gallant; she objected, however, to
being called a <i>savante</i>, and she was far from resembling
the false <i>précieuses</i> to whom she was likened by her
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page115" id="page115"></a>[pg 115]</span>
enemies. The occupations of her salon were somewhat
different from those of the salon of Mme. de Rambouillet.
M. du Bled describes them as follows:</p>
<p>"What they did in the salon of Mlle. de Scudéry you
can guess readily: they amused themselves as at Mme.
de Rambouillet's, they joked quite cheerfully, smiled
and laughed, wrote farces in prose and poetry. There
were readings, <i>loteries d'esprit</i>, sonnet-enigmas, <i>bouts-rimés</i>
(rhymes given to be formed into verse), <i>vers-échos</i>, fine
literary joustings, discussions between the casuists. This
salon had its talkers and speakers, those who tyrannized
over the audience and those who charmed it, those who
shot off fireworks and those who prepared them, those
who had made a symphony of conversation and those who
made of it a monologue and had no flashes of silence.
They did not follow fashion there—they rather made it; in
art and literature as in toilets, smallness follows the fashion,
pretension exaggerates it, taste makes a compact with it."</p>
<p>A specimen of the <i>énigme-sonnets</i> may be of interest, to
show in what intellectual playfulness and trivialities these wits indulged:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"Souvent, quoique léger, je lasse qui me porte.</p>
<p>Un mot de ma façon vaut un ample discours.</p>
<p>J'ai sous Louis le Grand commencé d'avoir cours,</p>
<p>Mince, long, plat, étroit, d'une étoffe peu forte.</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Les doigts les moins savants me taillent de la sorte;</p>
<p>Sous mille noms divers je parais tous les jours;</p>
<p>Aux valets étourdis je suis d'un grand secours.</p>
<p>Le Louvre ne voit point ma figure à sa porte.</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Une grossière main vient la plupart du temps</p>
<p>Me prendre de la main des plus honnêtes gens.</p>
<p>Civil, officieux, je suis né pour la ville.</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Dans le plus rude hiver j'ai le dos toujours nu:</p>
<p>Et, quoique fort commode, à peine m'a-t-on vu,</p>
<p>Qu'ausitôt négligé, je deviens inutile."</p>
</div> </div>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page116" id="page116"></a>[pg 116]</span>
<p>[Often, although light, I weary the person who carries
me. A word in my manner is worth a whole discourse.
I began under Louis the Great to be in vogue,—slight,
long, flat, narrow, of a very slight material.</p>
<p>The most unskilled fingers cut me in their way; under a
thousand different forms I appear every day; I am a great
aid to the astonished valets. The Louvre does not see my face at its door.</p>
<p>A coarse hand most of the time receives me from the
hand of the nicest people. Civil, officious, I am born for the city.</p>
<p>In the coldest weather, my back is always bare; and,
although quite convenient, scarcely have they seen me,
when I am neglected and useless.—Visiting card.]</p>
<p>A more interesting one and one that caused no little amusement is the following:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"Je suis niais et fin, honnête et malhonnête,</p>
<p>Moins sincère à la cour qu'en un simple taudis.</p>
<p>Je fais d'un air plaisant trembler les plus hardis,</p>
<p>Le fort me laisse aller, le sage m'arrête.</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"A personne sans moi l'on ne fait jamais fête:</p>
<p>J'embellis quelquefois, quelquefois, j'enlaidis.</p>
<p>Je dédaigne tantôt, tantôt j'applaudis;</p>
<p>Pour m'avoir en partage, il faut n'être pas bête.</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Plus mon trône est petit, plus il a de beauté.</p>
<p>Je l'agrandis pourtant d'un et d'autre côté,</p>
<p>Faisant voir bien souvent des défauts dont on jase.</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Je quitte mon éclat quand je suis sans témoins,</p>
<p>Et je me puis vanter enfin d'être la chose</p>
<p>Qui contente le plus et qui coûte le moins."</p>
</div> </div>
<p>[I am both stupid and bright, honest and dishonest; less
sincere at court than in a simple hovel; with a pleasant
air, I make the boldest tremble, the strong let me pass, the wise stop me.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page117" id="page117"></a>[pg 117]</span>
<p>There is no joy to anyone without me; I embellish at
times, at times I distort; I disdain and I applaud; to share
me, one must not be stupid.</p>
<p>The smaller my throne, the greater my beauty; I enlarge
it, however, on both sides, often showing defects which are made sport of.</p>
<p>I leave my brilliancy when I am without witness, and I
can boast of being the thing which contents the most and
costs the least.—A smile.]</p>
<p>Critics often reproach Mlle. de Scudéry for having portrayed
herself—as Sapho—in a flattering light in her novel
<i>Cyrus</i>; but it must be remembered that at that time this
was a common custom, women of the highest quality
indulging in such pastimes, there even being a prominent
salon where verbal portraiture was the sole occupation.
No one has written more or better on the condition of
woman, for she, above all, had the experience upon which
to base her writings. The idea of woman's education and
aim, which was generally entertained by the intelligent
and modest women of the seventeenth century, is well
expressed by Mlle. de Scudéry in the following:</p>
<p>"The difficulty of knowing something with seemliness
does not come to a woman so much from what she knows
as from what others do not know; and it is, without doubt,
singularity that makes it difficult to be as others are not,
without being exposed to blame. Seriously, is not the
ordinary idea of the education of women a peculiar one?
They are not to be coquettes nor gallants, and yet they
are carefully taught all that is peculiar to gallantry without
being permitted to know anything that can strengthen
their virtue or occupy their minds. Don't imagine, however,
that I do not wish woman to be elegant, to dance or
to sing; but I should like to see as much care devoted to
her mind as to her body, and between being ignorant and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page118" id="page118"></a>[pg 118]</span>
<i>savante</i> I should like to see a road taken which would prevent
annoyance from an impertinent sufficiency or from a
tiresome stupidity. I should like very much to be able to
say of anyone of my sex that she knows a hundred things
of which she does not boast, that she has a well-balanced
mind, that she speaks well, writes correctly, and knows
the world; but I do not wish it to be said of her that she
is a <i>femme savante</i>. The best women of the world when
they are together in a large number rarely say anything
that is worth anything and are more ennuyé than if they
were alone; on the contrary, there is something that I
cannot express, which makes it possible for men to enliven
and divert a company of ladies more than the most amiable
woman on earth could do."</p>
<p>Mlle. de Scudéry considered marriage a long slavery
and preferred virtuous celibacy enlivened by platonic gallantry.
When youth and adorers had passed away, she
found consolation in interchanges of wit, congenial conversation,
and the cultivation of the mind by study. Making
of love a doctrine, a manual of morals or <i>savoir-vivre</i>, has
had a refining effect upon civilization; but the process
has rendered the emotion itself too subtle, select, narrow,
enervating, and exhausting; it has resulted in the production
of splendid books with heroes and heroines of the
higher type, and has purified the atmosphere of social life;
this phase of its influence, however, is felt by only a set
of the élite, and its adherents are scattered through every
age and every country. Mlle. de Scudéry was a perfect
representative of that type, but healthy and normal rather
than morbidly æsthetic.</p>
<p>An opposition party soon arose, formed by those, especially,
who entertained different ideas of the sphere and
duties of woman. Just as the type of the salon of Mme. de
Rambouillet degenerated among the aristocracy into those
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page119" id="page119"></a>[pg 119]</span>
of the Hôtel de Condé, Mme. de Sablé, and Mlle. de Luxembourg,
so the type of the salon of Mlle. de Scudéry gave
rise to a number of literary salons among the <i>bourgeoisie</i>.
The aim of the latter institutions was to imitate her example
in endeavoring to spread the taste for courtesy, elegant
manners and the higher forms of learning; all these aspirations,
however, drifted into mere affectation, while the
requisites of welcome at the original salon were simplicity,
freedom from affectation, delicacy, amiability, and dignity.</p>
<p>As a writer, Mlle. de Scudéry occupies no mean position
in the history of French literature of the seventeenth
century. Her descriptions and anecdotes possess a wonderful
charm and display unusual power of analysis; in
them, Victor Cousin recognizes a truly virile spirit. In the
history of the French novel, she forms a transition period,
her productions having both a psychological interest and
a historical value of a very high degree. Through her
finesse and marvellous feminine penetration, her truthful,
delicate and fine portraitures, which were widely imitated
later, she has exerted an extensive influence.</p>
<p>With Mlle. de Scudéry "we have substance, real character
painting, true psychological penetration, and realism
in observation," while previously the novel, under such
men as Gomberville and La Calprenède, was imaginative
and full of fancy. Her talent, then, in that field, lay in
the analysis and development of sentiments, in delineation
of character, in the creation and reproduction of refined
and ingenious conversations, and in her reflections on subjects
pertaining to morality and literature—in all of which
she displayed justness and entire liberty and independence
of thought. Her poetry, delicate compliment or innocent
gallantries, was a mere bagatelle of the salon.</p>
<p>Charming as well as accomplished, Mlle. de Scudéry
was as intelligent, witty, and intellectual a woman as
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page120" id="page120"></a>[pg 120]</span>
could be found in the seventeenth century; and in the
history of that period she retains an undisputed position
as one of its great leaders of thought and progress. Her
salon, inasmuch as the salon of Mme. de Lambert was not
opened until 1710, and therefore the discussion of it belongs
properly to the beginning of the eighteenth century,
really closes the literary progress of the seventeenth century.</p>
<p>The influence of the seventeenth century salon was of
a threefold nature—literary, moral, and social. According
to the salon conception, artistic, literary, or musical pleasure
being derived from form and mode of expression, it
possessed a special and unique interest in proportion to
the efforts made and the difficulties surmounted in attaining
that form and expression: thus, woman introduced a new standard of excellence.</p>
<p><i>Préciosité</i> treated language not as a work of art, but as a
medium for the display of individual linguistic dexterity;
giving no thing its proper name, it delighted in paraphrase,
allusion, word play, unexpected comparisons and abundance
of metaphors, and revelled in the elusive, delicate,
subtle, and complex. Hence conversation turned constantly
to love and gallantry; thus woman developed to
a wonderful degree, unattainable to but few, the art
of conversation, politeness and courtesy of manners, and
social relations, at the same time purifying language and enriching it.</p>
<p>French women of the seventeenth century are condemned
for having treated serious things too lightly; and
it is said that "in confining the French mind to the observation
of society and its attractions, she has restricted and
retarded a more realistic and larger activity." In answer
to this it may be asserted that the French mind was not
prepared for a broader field until it had passed through the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page121" id="page121"></a>[pg 121]</span>
process of expurgating, refining, drilling, and disciplining.
If <i>préciosité</i> influenced politics, it was by developing diplomacy,
for, from the time that this spirit began to spread,
French diplomacy became world-renowned.</p>
<p>The social influence of the movement may be better
appreciated by considering the condition of woman in
earlier periods. Having practically no position except that
of housewife or mother, she was merely a source of pleasure
for man, for whom she had little or no respect. The
<i>précieuses</i>, on the contrary, exacted respect, honor, and a
place beside man, as rights that belonged to them.</p>
<p>As the outcome of their desire to think, feel, and act
with greater delicacy, women introduced propriety in expression,
finesse in analysis, keenness of <i>esprit</i>, psychological
subtleness: qualities that surely tended to higher
standards of morality, purer social relations, finer and more
subtle diplomacy, more elegance and precision in literature.
Therefore, <i>préciosité</i> in France had a wholesome influence,
which was possible because woman had won for herself
her rightful position, and her aspirations were toward social
and moral elevation.</p>
<p>In general, the women of France have always been conscious
of their duty, their importance, and their limitations,
appreciating their power and cultivating the characteristics
that attract man and retain his respect and attention:
sociability, morality, <i>esprit</i>, artistic appreciation, sensitiveness,
tact. These qualities became manifest to a remarkable
degree in French women of the seventeenth century,
and created in every writer, great or unimportant, the
desire to win their favor. Thus, Corneille strove to write
dramas with which he might establish the reign of decency
on a stage the liberties of which had previously made the
theatre inaccessible to woman; hence, his characters of
humanity (Cid) and politeness (Menteur).</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page122" id="page122"></a>[pg 122]</span>
<p>The purpose of the French Academy itself was not different
from that of the <i>précieuses</i>. Richelieu, realizing that
every great talent accepted the discipline of these women,
sought to use this power for his own ends by interesting
the world of letters in the accomplishment of his plans for
a general political unity. Thus, when the first period of
<i>préciosité</i> had reached its highest point and was beginning
to decline, and other smaller and envious social groups
were forming about Paris and causing a conflict of ideas,
Richelieu conceived the scheme of joining all in a union,
with strong ideals and with a language as dignified as the
Latin and the Greek. The result was the formation of
the French Academy. From this time begins the decline
of the authority of woman; for while she still exerted a
powerful influence, it was no longer absolute. After the
decline of the Hôtel de Rambouillet, feminine influence
became more general, expending itself in petty rivalries,
gossip, intrigues, and partaking of the nature of that court
life which was filled by the young king with parties, feasts,
collations, walks, carousals, boating, concerts, ballets, and
masquerades—a mode of living that gave rise to a new
standard of politeness, which was freer and looser than
that of <i>préciosité</i>.</p>
<p>As the power of the young king became stronger, his
favor became the goal of all men of letters. Although
woman still to some extent controlled the destinies of those
who were struggling for recognition and reputation, her
influence was of a secondary nature, that of the king being
supreme. Woman seemed to be overcoming the influence
of woman—Mme. de Montespan replaced Mlle. de La Vallière,
and she was in turn replaced by Mme. de Maintenon.</p>
<p>The degeneration of the king was accompanied by that
of literature, society, and morals. The characteristic
inclination of the day was eagerly to seek and grasp that
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page123" id="page123"></a>[pg 123]</span>
which was new, and the noble, forceful, and dignified style
of language of the previous period was replaced by one of
much lighter description; many female writers directed
their efforts entirely toward amusing, pleasing, and gaining applause.</p>
<p>In the beginning of the eighteenth century, with Mme.
de Lambert as its leader, there was a renascence of the
<i>préciosité</i> of the Hôtel de Rambouillet, women protesting
against the prevalent grossness and indecency of manners.
The salon of Mme. de Lambert was the great antechamber
to the Academy, election to which was generally gained
through her. A new aristocracy was forming, a new
society arose; from about 1720 to 1750, libertinism and
atheism, licentiousness and intrigue, crept into the salons.</p>
<p>The new aristocracy was of doubtful and impure source,
cynical in manner, unbridled in habits, over-fastidious in
taste, and politically powerful. In this society woman
began to be felt as a political force. M. Brunetière said:
"Mme. de Lambert made Academicians; the Marquise de
Prie made a queen of France; Mme. de Tencin made cardinals
and ambassadors." Montesquieu wrote: "There
is not a person who has any employment at the court in
Paris or in the provinces, who has not the influence (and
sometimes the injustices which she can cause) of a woman
through whom all favors pass;" and M. Brunetière added:
"This woman is not his wife." The popular spirit in
literature was one of subtleness, irony, superficial observations
on manners and customs. From the beginning of
the eighteenth century up to the eve of the Revolution,
woman's influence continued to increase, but that influence
was mainly in the direction of politics. Thus, in
every period in French history, a group of women effectively
moulds French thought and language, and directs
intellectual activity in general.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page124" id="page124"></a>[pg 124]</span>
<p>After the death of Louis XIV., society passed under the
rule of the regent, the Duke of Orléans—the personification
of gallantry and affability, of depravity which was a
mania, and of licentiousness which was a disease. From
this atmosphere the salon of Mme. de Lambert became a
refuge to those who still cherished the ideals of the good
old times of Mme. de Rambouillet; it was distinguished by
its refined sentiment and polished manners, which were
like those of the seventeenth century at its best.</p>
<p>Mme. de Lambert believed that the demands of the time
were just the opposite of those of the seventeenth century:
"What a multitude of tastes nowadays—the table, play,
theatre! When money and luxury are supreme, true
honor loses its power. Persons seek only those houses
where shameful luxury reigns." In her own salon, none
might enter who were not of the small number of the elect.</p>
<p>Very little is known of the life of Mme. de Lambert.
She was born in 1647, and, in spite of the unfavorable
surroundings of her youth and of a dissolute, extravagant,
and unrefined mother, the observance of decorum and
honor became the actuating principle of her life. Until
her marriage (in 1666) to Henri de Lambert, Marquis de
Bris en Auxerrois, she was in the midst of the grossest
licentiousness and freedom of manners; when married,
she entered a family the very opposite of her own.</p>
<p>She was a woman who believed in the power of ambitious
energy. To her son she once said: "Nothing is
less becoming to a young man than a certain modesty that
makes him believe that he is not capable of great things.
This modesty is a languor of the soul, which prevents it
from soaring and rapidly carrying itself to glory."</p>
<p>At first she lived in the Hôtel de Lambert (in the
Ile Saint-Louis), renowned for its splendidly sculptured
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page125" id="page125"></a>[pg 125]</span>
decorations, painted ceilings, panels, and staircases. Her
famous Salon des Muses and Cabinet d'Amours were filled
with the finest works of art and the most exquisite paintings.
There the élite of all classes were entertained until
the death of her husband (1686), when the hôtel was
closed; it was not reopened until 1710.</p>
<p>Though left with immense wealth, her affairs were in a
very complicated state. While actively employed in untangling
her difficulties, she at the same time superintended
the education of her son and daughter. After long and trying
lawsuits, she managed to put her fortune in order and
established herself at Paris, where the Duc de Nevers
ceded to her, for life, a large portion of the magnificently
furnished Palais Mazarin, now the National Library. On
the completion of her work in remodelling this palace and
furnishing it with the most costly and beautiful panel
paintings by Watteau and other artists, she inaugurated
her Tuesday and Wednesday dinner parties.</p>
<p>One remarkable characteristic of her company was the
age of her intimate associates—the Marquis de Saint-Aulaire,
Fontenelle, Mme. Dacier, and her husband, Louis
de Sacy, all of whom, as well as Mme. de Lambert herself,
had passed threescore and more; but they still kept alive
the cherished memories of the brilliant society of their
youth. Mme. de Lambert did not personally know Mme.
de Rambouillet, but she visited the latter's daughter, Julie
d'Angennes, from whom she learned the customs and
etiquette in vogue at the Hôtel de Rambouillet.</p>
<p>The Wednesday dinners of Mme. de Lambert were to
her intimate friends, while every Tuesday afternoon she
received a general circle which indulged in general conversation
and read and discussed books which were
about to be published; gambling, which seemed to be the
principal means of entertaining in those days, had no place
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page126" id="page126"></a>[pg 126]</span>
there. Fontenelle says: "It was, with very few exceptions,
the only house which had been preserved from the
epidemic of gambling—the only house where persons congregated
simply for the sake of talking sensibly and with
<i>esprit</i>. Those who had their reasons for considering it bad
taste that conversation was still carried on in any place,
cast mean reflections, whenever they could, against the
house of Mme. de Lambert." In the evening, she received
only a few select friends with whom she talked seriously.
Her salon soon became the envy of those who were not
admitted (and they were numerous), and was the object
of many calumnies and attacks.</p>
<p>During this time she found leisure to write two treatises
of practical morality, <i>Avis d'une mère à son fils</i>, and <i>Avis
d'une mère à sa fille</i>, which appeared without her permission.
The manuscripts, lent to friends, fell into the hands of
a publisher; and although the authoress endeavored to prevent
the distribution of the works by buying up the entire
editions, they were published outside of France. The two
works written to her children form an important contribution
to the educational literature of the time; in them the
religion of the eighteenth century is first defined.</p>
<p>"Above all these duties—civil and human (says the
mother to her son)—is the duty you owe to the Supreme
Being. Religion is a commerce established between God
and man through the grace of God to man and through the
duty of man to God. Elevated souls have for their God
sentiments and a cult apart, which do not resemble at all
those of the people; everything issues from the heart and goes to God."</p>
<p>In these works, she attacked also the fad of free-thinking
in vogue among the young men of the time. She was one
of the few women of that age who could not separate
themselves from reason and thought, even in religion; the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page127" id="page127"></a>[pg 127]</span>
latter was a matter for the reason and the intellect to
decide, and was thus an elevated product of the mind
rather than an instinct coming from the heart, or a positive
revelation as it was in the seventeenth century. In
this view, Madame de Lambert indicated the beginning of
the later eighteenth-century spirit.</p>
<p>Mme. de Lambert taught her children to be satisfied
with nothing but the highest attainable object. She advised
her son to choose his friends from among men above
him, in order to accustom himself to respectful and polite
demeanor; "with his equals he might cultivate negligence
and his mind might become dull." She desired her children
to think differently from the people—"Those who think
lowly and commonly, and the court is filled with such." To
their servants they were to be good and kind, for humanity
and Christianity make all equal. She was the first to use
those words, "humanity" and "equality," which later became
the bywords of everyone, and the first to teach that
conscience is the best guide. "Conscience is defined as
that interior sentiment of a delicate honor which assures you
that you have nothing with which to reproach yourself."</p>
<p>Possibly the most important and lasting effect of Mme.
de Lambert's influence resulted from the expression of her
ideas on the education of young women who "are destined
to please, and are given lessons only in methods of
delighting and pleasing." She was convinced that in order
to resist temptation and be normal, women must be educated,
must learn to think. Her counsels to her daughter
are remarkable for an unusual insight into the temperament
of her sex and for an extreme fear that makes her call to
her aid all precautions and resources. She thus advises her daughter:</p>
<p>"Try to find resources within yourself—this is a revenue
of certain pleasures. Do not believe that your only
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page128" id="page128"></a>[pg 128]</span>
virtue is modesty; there are many women who know no
other virtue, and who imagine that it relieves them of all
duties toward society; they believe they are right in lacking
all others and think themselves privileged to be proud
and slanderous with impunity. You must have a gentle
modesty; a good woman may have the advantages of a
man's friendship without abandoning honesty and faithfulness
to her duties. Nothing is so difficult as to please
without the use of what seems like coquettishness. It is
more often by their defects than by their good qualities
that women please men; men seek to profit by the weaknesses
of good and kind women, for whose virtues they
care nothing, and they prefer to be amused by persons
not very estimable than to be forced merely to admire virtuous persons."</p>
<p>This is a most faithful description of the society of her
time, and it was because her treatises struck home that
they were severely criticised; but, nothing daunted, she
carried out her plans in her own way, resorting neither to
intrigue nor artifice. Many of her sayings became household
maxims, such as—"It is not always faults that undo
us; it is the manner of conducting ourselves after having committed them."</p>
<p>Her reflections on women might be called the great plea,
at the end of the seventeenth century, for woman's right
to use her reason. After the severe and cruel satire of
Molière, attacking women for their innocent amusements,
they gave themselves up entirely to pleasure. "Mme. de
Lambert now wrote to avenge her sex and demand for it
the honest and strong use of the mind; and this was done
in the midst of the wild orgies of the Regency."</p>
<p>Mme. de Lambert was not a rare beauty, but she possessed
recompensing charms. M. Colombey asserts that
she became convinced of two things, about which she
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page129" id="page129"></a>[pg 129]</span>
became highly enthusiastic: first, that woman was more
reasonable than man; secondly, that M. Fontenelle, who
presided over or filled the functions of president of her
salon, was always in the right. He was indeed in harmony
with the tone of the salon, being considered the most
polished, brilliant, and distinguished member of the intellectual
society of Paris, as well as one of the most talented
drawing room philosophers. He made the salon of Mme.
de Lambert the most sought for and celebrated, the most
intellectual and moral of the period.</p>
<p>Mme. de Lambert has, possibly, exercised more influence
upon men—and especially upon the Forty Immortals
of her time—than did any woman before or after her.
The Marquis d'Argenson states that "a person was seldom
received at the Academy unless first presented at her
salon. It is certain that she made at least half of our actual Academicians."</p>
<p>Her salon was called a <i>bureau d'esprit</i>, which was due
to the fact that it was about the only social gathering
point where culture and morality were the primary requisites.
As she advanced in years, she became even more
influential. After her death in 1733, her salon ceased to
exist, but others, patterned after hers, soon sprang up;
to those, her friends attached themselves—Fontenelle frequented
several, Hénault became the leader of that of Mme. du Deffand.</p>
<p>The finest résumé that can be given of Mme. de Lambert,
is found in the letters of the Marquis d'Argenson:
"Her works contain a complete course in the most perfect
morals for the use of the world and the present time.
Some affectation of the <i>préciosité</i> is found; but, what beautiful
thoughts, what delicate sentiments! How well she
speaks of the duties of women, of friendship, of old age, of
the difference between actual character and reputation!"</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page130" id="page130"></a>[pg 130]</span>
<p>The salon of Mme. de Lambert forms a period of transition
from the seventeenth century type in which elegance,
politeness, courtesy, and morality were the first requisites,
to the eighteenth century salon in which <i>esprit</i> and wit
were the essentials demanded. It retained the dignity,
discipline, refinement, and sentiments of morality of the
Hôtel de Rambouillet; it showed, also, the first signs of
pure intellectuality. The salons to follow, will exhibit
decidedly different characteristics.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page131" id="page131"></a>[pg 131]</span>
<h2>Chapter V</h2>
<h2>Mistresses and Wives of Louis XIV</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page133" id="page133"></a>[pg 133]</span>
<p>The story of the wives and mistresses of Louis XIV.,
embraces that which is most dramatic morally (or immorally
dramatic) in the history of French women. The record
of the eighteenth century heroines is essentially a tragic
one, while that of those of the previous century is essentially
dramatic in its sadness, remorse, and repentance.</p>
<p>The mistress, as a rule, was unhappy; there were few
months during the period of her glory, in which she was
entirely free from anxiety or in which her conscience
was at rest. Mme. de Montespan "was for so many
years the sick nurse of a soul worn out with pride, passion,
and glory." Mme. de Maintenon wrote to one of
her friends: "Why cannot I give you my experience?
Why cannot I make you comprehend the ennui which
devours the great, and the troubles that fill their days?
Do you not see that I am dying of sadness, in a fortune
the vastness of which could not be easily imagined? I
have been young and pretty; I have enjoyed pleasures;
I have spent years in intellectual intercourse; I have
attained favor; and I protest to you, my dear child, that
all such conditions leave a frightful void." She said, also,
to her brother, Count d'Aubigné: "I can hold out no longer;
I would like to be dead." It was she too, who, after her
successes, made her confession thus: "One atones heavily
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page134" id="page134"></a>[pg 134]</span>
for the pleasures and intoxications of youth. I find, in
looking back at my life, that since the age of twenty-two—which
was the beginning of my fortune—I have not
had a moment free from sufferings which have constantly increased."</p>
<p>M. Saint-Amand gives a description of the women of
Louis XV. which well applies to those of his predecessor:
"These pretended mistresses, who, in reality, are only
slaves, seem to present themselves, one after the other,
like humble penitents who come to make their apologies
to history, and, like the primitive Christians, to reveal
publicly the miseries, vexations, and remorses of their
souls. They tell us to what their doleful successes
amounted: even while their triumphal chariot made its
way through a crowd of flatterers, their consciences hissed
cruel accusations into their ears; like actresses before a
whimsical and variable public, they were always afraid
that the applause might change into an uproar, and it was
with terror underlying their apparent coolness that they
continued to play their sorry part.... If among
these mistresses of the king there were a single one who
had enjoyed her shameful triumphs in peace, who had
called herself happy in the midst of her dearly bought
luxury and splendor, one might have concluded that, from
a merely human point of view, it is possible to find happiness
in vice. But, no—there is not even one!" Massillon,
the great preacher of truth and morality, said: "The worm
of conscience is not dead; it is only benumbed. The
alienated reason presently returns, bringing with it bitter
troubles, gloomy thoughts, and cruel anxieties"—a true
picture of every mistress.</p>
<p>The remarkable power and influence of these women,
the love and adoration accorded them, ceased with their
death; the memory of them did not survive overnight.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page135" id="page135"></a>[pg 135]</span>
When, during a terrible storm, the remains of the glorious
Mme. de Pompadour were being taken to Paris, the king,
seeing the funeral cortége from his window, remarked:
"The Marquise will not have fine weather for her journey."</p>
<p>Each one of these powerful mistresses represents a
complete epoch of society, morals, and customs. Mme.
de Montespan—that woman whose very look meant fortune
or disfavor—with all her wit and wealth, her magnificence
and pomp and superb beauty—she, in all her
splendor, is a type of the triumphant France, haughty,
dictatorial, scornful and proud, licentious and decayed at
the core. Voluptuousness and haughtiness were replaced
by religiosity and repentance in Mme. de Maintenon, with
her temperate character, consistency, and propriety.</p>
<p>The Regency was a period of scandal and wantonness,
personified in the Duchess of Berry. The licentious and
extravagant, yet brilliant and exquisite, frivolous but
charming, intriguing and diplomatic, was represented by
the talented and politically influential Mme. de Pompadour.
Complete degeneracy, vice with all manner of disguise
thrown off, adultery of the lowest order, were personified
in the common Mme. du Barry, who might be classed with
Louise of Savoy of the sixteenth century, while Mme. de
Pompadour might be compared with Diana of Poitiers.</p>
<p>In this period the queens of France were of little importance,
being too timid and modest to assert their rights—a
disposition which was due sometimes to their restricted
youth, spent in Catholic countries, sometimes to a naturally
unassuming and sensitive nature. To this rule Maria
Theresa, the wife of Louis XIV., was no exception. She
inherited her sweetness of disposition and her Christian
character from her mother, Isabella of France, the daughter
of Henry IV. and Marie de' Medici. She was pure and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page136" id="page136"></a>[pg 136]</span>
candid; a type of irreproachable piety and goodness, of
conjugal tenderness and maternal love; and recompensed
outraged morality for all the false pride, selfish ambition,
depravity, and scandals of court. She is conspicuous as a
model wife, one that loved her husband, her family, and her children.</p>
<p>Around Maria Theresa may be grouped the noble and
virtuous women of the court of Louis XIV., for she was
to that age what Claude of France was under Francis I.,
Elizabeth of Austria under Charles V., Louise de Vaudemont
under Henry III. However, in extolling these women,
it must be remembered that they had not, as queens, the
opportunity to participate in debauchery, licentiousness,
and intrigue, as had the mistresses of their husbands; they
had no power, were not consulted on state or social affairs,
and had granted to them only those favors to the conferring
of which the mistresses did not object.</p>
<p>Maria Theresa was a perfect example of the self-sacrificing
mother and devoted wife. Her feelings toward the
king are best expressed by the Princesse Palatine: "She
had such an affection for the king that she tried to read in
his eyes whatever would give him pleasure; providing he
looked kindly at her, she was happy all day." Mme. de
Caylus wrote: "That poor princess had such a dread of
the king and such great natural timidity that she dared
neither to speak to him nor to run the risk of a tête-à-tête
with him. One day, I heard Mme. de Maintenon say that
the king having sent for the queen, the latter requested
her to go with her so that she might not appear alone in
his presence: but that she (Mme. de Maintenon) conducted
her only to the door of the room and there took the liberty
of pushing her so as to make her enter, and that she observed
such a great trembling in her whole person that her
very hands shook with fright."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page137" id="page137"></a>[pg 137]</span>
<p>From about 1680, especially after the death of Mlle. de
Fontanges, his last mistress, Louis XIV. began to look
with disfavor upon the women of doubtful morality and to
advance those who were noted for their conjugal fidelity.
He became more attentive to the queen—a change of attitude
which was due partly to the influence of Mme. de
Maintenon and partly to the fact that he was satiated with
the excesses of his debauches, by which his physical system
had been almost wrecked. He would not have dared
to legitimatize his bastard children, had he not been so
thoroughly idolized by his greatest heroes and most powerful
ministers. As an illustration, it may be remarked
that the Great Condé proposed the marriage of his son to
the king's daughter by Mlle. de La Vallière.</p>
<p>The queen became so religious that she derived more
enjoyment from praying at the convents or visiting hospitals
than from remaining at her magnificent apartments.
She waited upon the sick with her own hands and carried
food to them; she never meddled in political affairs or took
much interest in social functions.</p>
<p>Timidity, an instinctive shrinking from the slanders,
calumnies, and intrigues of the court, appeared to be the
most pronounced characteristic of queens who seemed to
believe themselves too inferior to their husbands to dare
to offer any political counsel. While none of them were
superior intellectually, they possessed dignity, good sense,
and tact, "a reverential feeling for the sanctity of religion
and the majesty of the throne," an admirable resignation,
a painful docility and submission—qualities which might
have been turned to the advantage of their owners and
the state, had the former been more self-assertive.</p>
<p>The infidelities of their husbands caused the queen-consorts
constant torture; they were forced to behold the
kings' favorites becoming part of their own households
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page138" id="page138"></a>[pg 138]</span>
and were compelled to endure the presence, as ladies in
waiting, of those who, as their rivals, caused them to
suffer all possible torments of jealousy and outraged conjugal love.</p>
<p>First among the mistresses of Louis XIV. was Mlle. de
La Vallière, whom Sainte-Beuve mentions as the personification
of the ideal of a lover, combining disinterestedness,
fidelity, unique and delicate tenderness with a touching
and sincere kindness. When, at the age of seventeen,
she was presented at court, the king immediately selected
her as one of his victims. Her beauty was so striking, of
such an exquisitely tender type, that no woman actually
rivalled her as queen of beauty. Distinguished by blond
hair, dark blue eyes, a most sympathetic voice, and a
complexion of rare whiteness mingled with red, she was
guileless, animated, gentle, modest, graceful, unaffected,
and ingenuous; although slightly lame, she was, by everyone,
considered charming.</p>
<p>Mlle. de La Vallière was the mother of several children
of whom Louis XIV. was the father. On realizing that
she had rivals in the favor of the sovereign, she fled several
times from the Tuileries to the convent; on her
second return, the king, about to go to battle, recognized
his daughter by her, whom he made a duchess. Remorse
overcame the mistress so deeply that she, for the third
and final time, left court. Especially on the rise to power
of Mme. de Montespan was she painfully humiliated, suffering
the most intense pangs of conscience. The evening
before her final departure to the convent, she dined with
Mme. de Montespan, to drink "the cup to the dregs and
to enjoy the rejection of the world even to the last remains of its bitterness."</p>
<p>Guizot describes this period most vividly: "When
Mme. de Montespan began to supplant her in the king's
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page139" id="page139"></a>[pg 139]</span>
favor, the grief of Mlle. de La Vallière was so great that
she thought she would die of it. Then she turned to God,
penitent and in despair; twice she sought refuge in a convent
at Chaillot. On leaving, she sent word to the king:
'After having lost the honor of your good graces I would
have left the court sooner, if I could have prevailed upon
myself never to see you again; but that weakness was so
strong in me that hardly now am I capable of sacrificing
it to God. After having given you all my youth, the remainder
of my life is not too much for the care of my
salvation.'" The king still clung to her. "He sent
M. Colbert to beg her earnestly to come to Versailles
that he might speak with her. M. Colbert escorted her
thither and the king conversed for an hour with her and
wept bitterly. Mme. de Montespan was there to meet
her, with open arms and tears in her eyes." "It is all
incomprehensible," adds Mme. de Sévigné; "some say
that she will remain at Versailles and at court, others that
she will return to Chaillot; we shall see."</p>
<p>Mlle. de La Vallière remained three years at court, "half
penitent," she said, humbly, detained by the king's express
wish, in consequence of the tempers and jealousies
of Mme. de Montespan who felt herself judged and condemned
by her rival's repentance. Attempts were made
to turn Mlle. de La Vallière from her inclination for the
Carmelites': "Madame," said Mme. Scarron to her, one
day, "here are you one blaze of gold; have you really
considered that, before long, at the Carmelites' you will
have to wear serge?" She, however, was not to be dissuaded
from her determination and was already practising,
in secret, the austerities of the convent. "God has laid
in this heart the foundation of great things," said Bossuet,
who supported her in her conflict; "the world puts great
hindrances in her way, and God great mercies; I have
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page140" id="page140"></a>[pg 140]</span>
hopes that God will prevail; the uprightness of her heart
will carry everything before it."</p>
<p>"When I am in trouble at the Carmelites'," said Mlle.
de La Vallière, as for the last time she quitted the court,
"I shall think of what those people have made me suffer."
"The world itself makes us sick of the world,"
said Bossuet in the sermon which he preached on the day
she took the veil; "its attractions have enough of illusion,
its favors enough of inconstancy, its rebuffs enough
of bitterness. There is enough of bitterness, enough of
injustice and perfidy in the dealings of men, enough of inconsistency
and capriciousness in their intractable and
contradictory humors—there is enough of it all, to disgust us."</p>
<p>When, in 1675, she took the final vows, she cut off her
beautiful hair and devoted herself to the church and to
charity, receiving the veil from the queen, whose forgiveness
she sought before entering the convent. The king
showed himself to be such a jealous lover, that when
Mlle. de La Vallière entirely abandoned him for God,
he forgot her absolutely, never going to the convent to see her.</p>
<p>She was by far the most interesting and pathetic of the
three mistresses of Louis XIV.; her heart was superior to
that of either of her successors, though her mind was
inferior; she belonged to a different atmosphere—such
kindness, charity, penitence, resignation, and absolute
abandonment to God were rare among the conspicuous
French women. Sainte-Beuve says: "She loved for love,
without haughtiness, coquetry, arrogance, ambitious designs,
self-interest, or vanity; she suffered and sacrificed
everything, humiliated herself to expiate her wrong-doing,
and finally surrendered herself to God, seeking in
prayer the treasures of energy and tenderness; through
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page141" id="page141"></a>[pg 141]</span>
her heart, her mental powers attained their complete development."</p>
<p>The fate of Mlle. de La Vallière was the same as that
of nearly all royal mistresses; abandoned and absolutely
forgotten by her lover, she sought refuge and consolation
in religion and God's mercy. "She was dead to me the
day she entered the Carmelites'," said the king, thirty-five
years later, when the modest and fervent nun at last
expired, in 1710, without having ever relaxed the severities of her penance.</p>
<p>Of an entirely different type from Mlle. de La Vallière
was that haughtiest and most supercilious of all French
mistresses, Mme. de Montespan. The picture drawn by
M. Saint-Amand does her full justice: "A haughty and
opulent beauty, a forest of hair, flashing blue eyes, a complexion
of splendid carnation and dazzling whiteness, one
of those alluring and radiant countenances which shed
brightness around them wherever they appear, an incisive,
caustic wit, an unquenchable thirst for riches and pleasure,
luxury and power, the manners of a goddess audaciously
usurping the place of Juno on Olympus, passion without
love, pride without true dignity, splendor without harmony—that
was Mme. de Montespan." And these qualities
were the secret of her success as well as of her fall.</p>
<p>From this description it can easily be divined of what
nature was her influence and how she gained and held her
power over the king. She won Louis XIV. entirely by
her sensual charms, provoked him by her imperious exactions,
her ungovernable fits of temper, and her daring sarcasm;
always extravagant and unreasonable, she talked
constantly of balls and fêtes, the glories of court and its
scandals. Most exacting, yet never satisfied, she had no
regard for the interests or honor of the weak king, to
whose lower nature only she appealed.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page142" id="page142"></a>[pg 142]</span>
<p>Mme. de Montespan was of noble birth, being the youngest
daughter of Rochechouart, first Duke of Mortemart.
She was born in 1641, at the grand old château of Tonnay-Charente,
and was educated at the convent of Sainte-Marie.
Brought up religiously, she at first evinced a much
greater tendency toward religion than toward worldly ambition
and vanity. Mme. de Caylus, in her <i>Souvenirs</i>,
wrote that "far from being born depraved, the future
favorite had a nature inherently disinclined to gallantry and
tending to virtue. She was flattered at being mistress, not
solely for her own pleasure, but on account of the passion
of the king; she believed that she could always make him
desire what she had resolved never to grant him. She
was in despair at her first pregnancy, consoled herself for
the second one, and in all the others carried impudence as far as it could go."</p>
<p>She was known first as Mlle. Tonnay-Charente, and
was maid of honor to the Duchess of Orléans. When, at
the age of twenty-two, she married the Marquis de Montespan
and became lady in waiting to the queen, her
beauty, wit, and brilliant conversational powers at once
made her the centre of attraction; for several years, however,
the king scarcely noticed her. Upon secretly becoming
his mistress in 1668 and openly being declared as
such two years later, her husband attempted to interfere,
and was unceremoniously banished to his estates; in 1676
he was legally separated from her. She persuaded the
king to legitimatize their children, who were confided to
Mme. Scarron,—afterward Mme. de Maintenon,—who later
influenced the king to abandon his mistress.</p>
<p>Mme. de Montespan's power, lasting fourteen years, was
almost unlimited, and was the epoch of courtiers intoxicated
with passion and consumed by vice, infatuated with
the king and his mistress, whose title as <i>maîtresse-en-titre</i>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page143" id="page143"></a>[pg 143]</span>
was considered an official one, conferring the same privileges
and demanding the same ceremonies and etiquette
as did a high court position. The only opposition incurred
was from the clergy, who eventually, by uniting their
forces with the influence of Mme. de Maintenon, brought
about the disgrace of the mistress.</p>
<p>When, in 1675, she desired to perform her Easter duties
publicly at Versailles, the priest refused to grant absolution
until she should discontinue her wanton, adulterous
life. She appealed to the king, and he referred the decision
of the matter to Bossuet, who decided that it was an
imperative duty to deny absolution to public sinners of
notorious lives who refused to abandon them. This was
immediately before her legal separation from her husband.</p>
<p>Influenced by the preaching of men like Bourdaloue and
Bossuet, the king resolved to abandon his powerful mistress;
in 1686 she was finally separated from Louis XIV.,
but did not leave Versailles until 1691, when, becoming
reconciled to her fate, she decided to retire to a convent.
Bossuet became her spiritual adviser, and described her
habits in the following letter to the king:</p>
<p>"I find Mme. de Montespan sufficiently tranquil. She
occupies herself greatly in good works. I see her much
affected by the verities I propose to her, which are the
same I uttered to your majesty. To her—as to you—I
have offered the words by which God commands us to
yield our whole hearts to him; they have caused her to
shed many tears. May God establish these verities in the
depths of the hearts of both of you, in order that so many
tears, so much suffering, so many efforts as you have
made to subdue yourselves, may not be in vain."</p>
<p>The king did not wholly abandon his mistress; from a
material point of view, she was more powerful than ever,
for Louis XIV. gave orders to his minister, Colbert, to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page144" id="page144"></a>[pg 144]</span>
do for Mme. de Montespan whatever she wished, and her
wishes caused a heavy drain upon the treasury. The
king continued to pay court to other favorites, such as
the Princesse de Soubèse and Mlle. de Fontanges; the
latter was his third mistress, but her career was of short
duration, as one of the last acts of Mme. de Montespan
was, it is said, the poisoning of Mlle. de Fontanges; this,
however, is not generally accepted as true, although the
Princesse Palatine wrote the following which throws suspicion
upon the former favorite: "Mme. de Montespan
was a fiend incarnate, but the Fontanges was good and
simple. The latter is dead—because, they say, the former
put poison in her milk. I do not know whether or not
this is true, but what I do know well is that two of the
Fontanges's people died, saying publicly that they had
been poisoned." With the increasing influence of Mme. de
Maintenon, the king completely forgot his former mistress.</p>
<p>Mme. de Montespan was possibly the most arrogant and
despotic of all French mistresses and she was, also, the
most humiliated. She had inspired no confidence, friendship,
love, or respect in Louis XIV., who eventually looked
with shame and remorse upon his relations with her. It
took her sixteen years to overcome her terrible passion
and to give up the court forever. Not until 1691 did she
become reconciled to departure from Versailles; thenceforth,
penitence conquered immoral desires. M. Saint-Amand
says she not only "arrived at remorse, but at
macerations, fasts, and haircloths. She limited herself
to the coarsest underlinen and wore a belt and garters
studded with iron points. She came at last to give all she
had to the poor;" she also founded a hospital in which she nursed the sick.</p>
<p>While at the convent, she tried, in vain, to effect a
reconciliation with her husband; not until every avenue
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page145" id="page145"></a>[pg 145]</span>
to a social life was cut off from her, did she entirely surrender
herself to charity and the service of God. In her
latest years, she was so tormented by the horrors of death
that she employed several women whose only occupation
was to watch with her at night. She died in 1707, forgotten
by the king and all her former associates; Louis XIV.
formally prohibited her children, the Duke of Maine, the
Comte de Toulouse, the Comte de Vexin, and Mlles. de
Nantes, de Blois, and de Tours, from wearing mourning for her.</p>
<p>A striking contrast to Mme. de Montespan in character,
disposition, morality, and birth was Mme. de Maintenon,
one of the greatest and most important women in French
history. What is known of her is so enveloped in calumny
and falsehood and made so uncertain by dispute, that to
disentangle the actual facts is almost an impossibility,
despite the glowing tribute paid to her in the immense
work published recently by the Comte d'Haussonville and M. Gabriel Hanotaux.</p>
<p>It would seem that the more the history of Mme. de
Maintenon is studied, the more one is led away from a
first impression—which usually proves to be an erroneous
one. Thus, M. Lavallée, in his first work, <i>Histoire des
Français</i>, wrote that she "was of the most complete aridity
of heart, narrow in the scope of her affections, and
meanly intriguing. She suggested fatal enterprises and inappropriate
appointments; she forced mediocre and servile
persons upon the king; she had, in fine, the major share
in the errors and disasters of the reign of Louis XIV." A
few years later he wrote, in his <i>Histoire de la maison royale
de Saint-Cyr</i>: "Mme. de Maintenon gave Louis XIV. none
but salutary and disinterested counsels which were useful
to the state and instrumental in making less heavy the burdens of the people."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page146" id="page146"></a>[pg 146]</span>
<p>Opinion in general, especially French opinion, has been
very bitter toward her. History has even reproached her
with having been a usurper, a tyrant, and a selfish master.
The great preacher, Fénelon, wrote to her:</p>
<p>"They say you take too little part in affairs. Your
mind is more capable than you think. You are, perhaps,
a little too distrustful of yourself, or, rather, you are too
much afraid to enter into discussions contrary to the inclination
you have for a tranquil and meditative life."</p>
<p>Is this picture, left by Emile Chasles and accepted by
M. Saint-Amand, truthful? "This intelligent woman, far
from being too much heeded, was not enough so. There
was in her a veritable love for the public welfare, a true
sorrow in the midst of our misfortunes. To-day, it is
necessary to retrench much from the grandeur of her
worldly power and add a great deal to that of her soul."
M. Saint-Amand believes her sincere when she wrote to Mme. des Ursins:</p>
<p>"In whatever way matters turn, I conjure you, madame,
to regard me as a person incapable of directing affairs, who
heard them talked too late to be skilful in them, and who
hates them more than she ignores them.... My
interference in them is not desired and I do not desire to
interfere. They are not concealed from me, but I know
nothing consecutively and am often badly informed."</p>
<p>The opinions of her contemporaries are not always flattering,
but such are possibly due to envy and jealousy or to
some purely personal prejudice. Thus, when the Duchess
of Orléans, the Princesse Palatine, calls her "that nasty
old thing, that wicked devil, that shrivelled-up, filthy old
Maintenon, that concubine of the king," and casts upon her
other gross aspersions that are unfit to be repeated, one
must remember that the calumniator was a German, the
daughter of the Elector Palatine Charles-Louis, a woman
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page147" id="page147"></a>[pg 147]</span>
honest in her morals, but shameless in her speech, who
loved the beauties of nature more than those of the palaces;
more shocked at hypocrites than at religion or irreligion,
she took Mme. de Maintenon to be a type of the
impostors whom she detested. It was her son who became
regent, and it was her son who married one of the
illegitimate daughters of Louis XIV.—an alliance of which
his mother had a horror.</p>
<p>The memoirs of Saint-Simon are interesting, but the
odious picture he has drawn of Mme. de Maintenon is
hardly in accord with later appreciations. M. Saint-Amand
sums up the two classes of critics thus:</p>
<p>"The revolutionary school which likes to drag the
memory of the great king through the mire, naturally
detests the eminent woman who was that king's companion,
his friend and consoler. Writers of this school
would like to make of her a type not only odious and fatal,
but ungraceful and unsympathetic, without radiance,
charm or any sort of fascination. She is too frequently
called to mind under the aspect of a worn old woman,
stiff and severe, with tearless eyes and a face without a
smile. We forget that in her youth she was one of the
prettiest women of her time, that her beauty was wonderfully
preserved, and that in her old age she retained that
superiority of style and language, that distinction of
manner and exquisite tact, that gentle firmness of character,
that charm and elevation of mind, which, at every
period of her life, gained her so much praise and so many friends."</p>
<p>Mme. de Maintenon was born in prison. Her maiden
name was Françoise d'Aubigné. She was the granddaughter
of Agrippa d'Aubigné, the historian. Her father
had planned to settle in the Carolinas, and his correspondence
with the English government, to that effect, was
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page148" id="page148"></a>[pg 148]</span>
treated as treason; he was thrown into prison, where his
wife voluntarily shared his fate and where the future
Mme. de Maintenon was born. After the death of her
father, she was confided to her aunt, Mme. de Villette, a
Calvinist, who trained her in the principles of Protestantism.
Because of the refusal of her daughter to attend
mass, her mother put her in charge of the Countess of
Neuillant who, with great difficulty, converted Françoise back to Catholicism.</p>
<p>At the home of the Countess of Neuillant, she often met
Scarron, the comic poet—a paralytic and cripple—who
offered her money with which to pay for admission to a
convent, a proposition which she refused; subsequently,
however, the countess sent her to the Ursulines to be
educated. When, after two years, she lost her mother
and was thus left without home, fortune, or future prospects,
she consented, at the age of seventeen, to marry
the poet. Thus, born in a prison, without even a dowry,
harshly reared by a mother who was under few obligations
to life, more harshly treated in the convent, introduced
as a poor relation into the society of her aunt and
to the friends of her godmother, the Countess of Neuillant,
she early learned to distrust life and suspect man, and to
restrain her ambitions.</p>
<p>Exceedingly beautiful, graceful, and witty, she soon
won her way to the brilliant and fashionable society of the
crippled wit, buffoon, and poet, who was coarse, profane,
ungodly, and physically an unsightly wreck. In this
society, which the burlesque poet amused by his inexhaustible
wit and fancy, and his frank, Gallic gayety, she
showed an infinite amount of tact and soon made his salon
the most prominent social centre of Paris. There, Scarron,
never tolerated a stupid person, no matter of what blood or rank.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page149" id="page149"></a>[pg 149]</span>
<p>When asked what settlement he proposed to make upon
his wife, he replied: "Immortality." At another time, he
remarked: "I shall not make her commit any follies, but I
shall teach her a great many." On his deathbed he said:
"My only regret is that I cannot leave anything to my
wife with whom I have every imaginable reason to be
content." In this free-and-easy salon, a young noble said,
soon after the marriage of Scarron: "If it were a question
of taking liberties with the queen or Mme. Scarron, I
would not deliberate; I would sooner take them with the queen."</p>
<p>The reputation made by the young Mme. Scarron gained
her many influential friends, especially among court
people. At the death of her husband, in 1660, to avoid
trouble with his family, she renounced the marriage dowry
of twenty-four thousand livres. Her friends procured her
a pension of two thousand livres from the queen. Thus
freed from care, she lived according to her inclination, which
tended toward pleasing and doing good; taking good cheer
and her services voluntarily and unaffectedly to all families,
she gradually made herself a necessity among them—thus
she laid the foundation of her future greatness. She
was received by the best families, grew in favor everywhere,
and even won over all her enemies. Modest, complaisant,
promptly and readily rendering a favor, prudent,
practical and virtuous, her one desire was to make friends,
not so much for the purpose of using them, but because
she realized that a person in humble circumstances cannot have too many friends.</p>
<p>Her portrait as a widow is admirably drawn by M. Saint-Amand:
"Mme. Scarron seeks esteem, not love. To
please while remaining virtuous, to endure, if need be,
privations and even poverty, but to win the reputation
of a strong character, to deserve the sympathy and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page150" id="page150"></a>[pg 150]</span>
approbation of honest persons—such is the direction of
all her efforts. Well dressed, though very simply; discreet
and modest, intelligent and <i>distingué</i>, with that patrician
elegance which luxury cannot create, but which is
inborn and comes by nature only; pious, with a sincere
and gentle piety; less occupied with herself than with
others; talking well and—what is much rarer—knowing
how to listen; taking an interest in the joys and sorrows
of her friends, and skilful in amusing and consoling them—she
is justly regarded as one of the most amiable as
well as one of the superior women in Paris. Economical
and simple in her tastes, she makes her accounts balance
perfectly, thanks to an annual pension of two thousand
livres granted her by Queen Anne of Austria."</p>
<p>When Mme. Scarron was about to leave Paris because
of lack of funds and the loss of her pension, after the
death of Queen Anne, her friend Mme. de Montespan,
the king's mistress, interfered in her behalf and had the
pension renewed, thus inadvertently paving the way for
her own downfall. Three years later Mme. Scarron was
established in an isolated house near Paris, where she received
the natural children of Louis XIV. and Mme. de
Montespan, as they arrived, in quick succession, in 1669,
1670, 1672, 1673, and 1674. There, acting as governess,
she hid them from the world. This is the only blemish
upon the fair record of her life. It is maintained by her
detractors that a virtuous woman would not have undertaken
the education of the doubly adulterous children of
Louis XIV. (thus, in a way, encouraging adultery), and
that she would have given up her charge upon the first proposals of love.</p>
<p>However deep this stain may be considered, one must
remember that the standard of honor at the court of
Louis XIV. did not encourage delicacy in matters of love,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page151" id="page151"></a>[pg 151]</span>
and Mme. Scarron knew only the standard of society; her
morality was no more extraordinary than was her intelligence,
and it was to her credit that she preserved intact
her honor and her virtue. At first the king looked with
much dissatisfaction upon her appointment, not admiring
the extreme gravity and reserve of the young widow;
however, the unusual order of her talents and wisdom
soon attracted his attention, and her entrance at court was
speedily followed by quarrels between the mistress and
Louis XIV. In 1674 the king, wishing to acknowledge his
recognition of her merits, purchased the estate of Maintenon
for her and made her Marquise de Maintenon.</p>
<p>Her primary object became the gaining of the favor of
Mme. de Montespan; for this purpose she taught herself
humility, while toward the king she directed the forces of
her dignity, reserve, and intellectual attainments. Being
the very opposite of the mistress who won and retained
him by sensuous charms (in which the king was fast
losing pleasure and satisfaction), she soon effected a
change by entertaining her master with the solid attainments
of her mind—religion, art, literature.</p>
<p>Mme. de Maintenon was always amiable and sympathetic,
kind and thoughtful, never irritating, crossing, or
censuring the king; wonderfully judicious, modest, self-possessed,
and calm, she was irreproachable in conduct
and morals, tolerating no improper advances. Although
the characteristics and general deportment of Mme. de
Montespan were entirely different from those of Mme.
de Maintenon, the latter entertained true friendship for her
benefactress, displaying astonishing tact, shrewdness, and self-control.</p>
<p>If Mme. de Maintenon were not, at first, loved by the
king, it was because she appeared to him too ideal, sublime,
spirituelle, too severely sensible. Then came the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page152" id="page152"></a>[pg 152]</span>
turning point; at forty years of age she was "a beautiful
and stately woman with brilliant dark eyes, clear complexion,
beautiful white teeth, and graceful manners;"
sedate, self-possessed, and astonished at nothing, she had
learned the art of waiting, and studied the king—showing
him those qualities he desired to see.</p>
<p>Her aim became to take the king from his mistress and
lead him back to the queen. After gaining his confidence
by her sincerity and trustworthiness, and making herself
indispensable to him, she succeeded in bringing about the
desired separation, through the medium of the dauphiness,
whom she won over to her cause. Thus, without perfidy,
hypocrisy, intrigue, or manœuvring, by simply being
herself, she replaced the haughty and beautiful Mme. de Montespan.</p>
<p>When, after the queen's death, and after having lived
about the king for fifteen years, "she had succeeded in
making the devotee take precedence of the lover, when
piety had overcome passion, when religion had effected its
change, then Louis the Great offered his hand in marriage
to her who had only veneration, gratitude, and devotion
for him, but no passion or love." Reasons of state demanded
the secrecy of the marriage; for had he raised her
to the throne, political complications would have arisen
and disturbed his subsequent career; Mme. de Maintenon
fully appreciated the intricacies of the situation, and was
therefore content to remain what she was.</p>
<p>She came to the king when he was beginning to feel the
effects of his former mode of life; he needed fidelity and
friendship, and he saw these in her. His feelings for her
are well described in the following extract by M. Saint-Amand:</p>
<p>"To sum up: the king's sentiment for her was of the
most complex nature. There was in it a mingling of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page153" id="page153"></a>[pg 153]</span>
religion and of physical love, a calculation of reason and
an impulse of the heart, an aspiration after the mild joys
of family life and a romantic inclination—a sort of compact
between French good sense, subjugated by the wit, tact,
and wisdom of an eminent woman, and Spanish imagination
allured by the fancy of having extricated this elect
woman from poverty in order to make her almost a queen.
Finally, it must be noted that Louis XIV., always religiously
inclined, was convinced that Mme. de Maintenon
had been sent to him by Heaven for his salvation, and that
the pious counsels of this saintly woman, who knew how
to render devotion so agreeable and attractive, seemed to
him to be so many inspirations from on High."</p>
<p>It must not be inferred, however, that the feeling for
Mme. de Maintenon was purely ideal. "He was unwilling
to remarry," says the Abbé de Choisy, "because of
tenderness for his people. He had, already, three grandsons,
and wisely judged that the princes of a second marriage
might, in course of time, cause civil wars. On the
other hand, he could not dispense with a wife and Mme. de
Maintenon pleased him greatly. Her gentle and scintillating
wit promised him an agreeable intercourse which would
refresh him after the cares of royalty. Her person was still
engaging and her age prevented her from having children."</p>
<p>As his wife, Mme. de Maintenon took more interest in
the king and his family than she did in the affairs of the
kingdom. To be the wife of the hearth and home, to
educate the princes, to rear the young Duchess of Bourgogne,
granddaughter of Louis XIV., to calm and ease the
old age of the king and to distract and amuse him, became
her sole objects in life. Her power, thus directed, became
almost unbounded; she was the dispenser of favors
and the real ruler, sitting in the cabinet of the king; and her
counsels were so wise that they soon became invaluable.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page154" id="page154"></a>[pg 154]</span>
<p>At court, she opposed all foolish extravagance, such as
the endless fêtes and amusements of all kinds which had
become so popular under Mme. de Montespan—a procedure
which caused her the greatest difficulties and provoked
revolts and quarrels in the royal family. By her prudence,
tact, wisdom, and the loyalty of her friendship,
she won and retained the respect and favor—if not the
love—of everyone. Her reputation was never tarnished
by scandal. "When one reflects that Louis XIV. was only
forty-seven years old and in the prime of life and Mme.
de Montespan in the full blaze of her marvellous beauty,
that this woman of humble birth, in her youth a Protestant,
poor, a governess, the widow of a low, comic poet, should
win so proud a man as Louis XIV., seems incredible."</p>
<p>When one considers that throughout life her one aspiration
was an irreproachable conduct, that her manner of
action was always defensive, never offensive, that her
chief aim was to restore the king to the queen (who died
in her arms) and not to replace his mistress, one cannot
withhold admiration and esteem from this truly great
woman who accomplished all those honorable designs.</p>
<p>The obstacles to be conquered before reaching her goal
were indeed numerous, but she managed them all. There
were so many persons hostile to her,—mistresses and intriguers,
bishops and priests, courtesans and valets, princes
and members of the royal family,—to overcome whom she
had to be on her guard, make use of every opportunity,
show a rare knowledge of society and court, a profound
skill and address, resolution and will; and she was equal to all occasions.</p>
<p>Her greatest defect was the narrowness of her religious
views. Entirely in the hands of her spiritual advisers,
obeying them faithfully and blindly, she was not inclined
to theological investigation, but was sincerely devout.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page155" id="page155"></a>[pg 155]</span>
More interested in the various persons than in doctrines,
she showed a passion for making bishops, abbots, and
priests, as well as for negotiating compromises, reconciling
<i>amours propres</i> and doing away with all religious hatred.
Lacking, above all else, clearness of conception, promptness
and firmness of decision, she was finally persuaded
to encourage the bigotry of Louis XIV. and his intolerance
toward those who differed from him. Hence, in 1685,
she permitted that fearfully destructive persecution of the
Protestants, which caused over three hundred thousand
of France's most solid people to leave the country; and
by her fanaticism and false zeal, she caused the king to be
a party to that awful catastrophe.</p>
<p>"This one act of hers counterbalances nearly all her
virtues, and we remember her more as the murderess of
thousands of innocents than as the calm and virtuous governess.
But we must remember the nature of her advisers
and the eternal policy of the Catholic Church, which are
ever identical with absolutism. To uphold the institutions
and opinions already established, was the one sentiment of
the age; innovation, progress, were destructive—Mme. de
Maintenon became the watchful guardian of royalty and
the Church." Such is the verdict of English opinion.
M. Saint-Amand judges the affair differently:</p>
<p>"A woman as pious and reasonable as she was, animated
always by the noblest intentions, loving her country
and always showing sympathy for the poor people—not
merely in words but in deeds as well—detesting war and
loving justice and peace, always moderate and irreproachable
in her conduct—such a woman cannot be the mischievous,
crafty, malicious, and vindictive bigot imagined
by many writers; she did not encourage such an act, nor
would her nature permit to do so.... The prayer
she uttered every morning, best portrays the woman and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page156" id="page156"></a>[pg 156]</span>
her rôle: 'Lord, grant me to gladden the king, to console
him, to sadden him when it must be for Thy glory. Cause
me to hide from him nothing which he ought to know
through me, and which no one else would have courage to
tell him.' ... To Madame de Glapion she said: 'I
would like to die before the king; I would go to God; I would
cast myself at the foot of His throne; I would offer Him
the desires of a soul that He would have purified; I would
pray Him to grant the king greater enlightenment, more
love for his people, more knowledge of the state of the
provinces, more aversion for the perfidy of the countries,
more horror of the ways in which his authority is abused:
and God would hear my prayers.'"</p>
<p>This pious woman was weary of life before her marriage,
and but changed the nature of her misery upon
reaching the highest goal open to a woman. Marly, Versailles,
Fontainebleau were only different names for the
same servitude. When she had attained her desire, she
thought her repose assured; instead, her ennui, her disgust
of life and the world, only increased; realizing this,
she began to direct her thoughts entirely toward God and
her aspirations toward things not of this earth—hence the
almost complete absence of her influence in politics.</p>
<p>She was never happy, and that her life was a disappointment
to her may be gathered from the following words from
her pen: "Flee from men as from your mortal enemies;
never be alone with them. Take no pleasure in hearing that
you are pretty, amiable, that you have a fine voice. The
world is a malicious deceiver which never means what it
says; and the majority of men who say such things to young
girls, do it hoping to find some means of ruining them."</p>
<p>Her most intense desire seemed to be to please, and be
esteemed—to receive the <i>honneur du monde</i>, which appeared
to be her sole motive for living. When in power, she
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page157" id="page157"></a>[pg 157]</span>
did not use her influence as the intriguing women of the
epoch would have done, because she did not possess
their qualities—taste, breadth of vision, and selfish ambitions.
Her objects in life were the reform of a wicked
court, the extirpation of heresy, the elevation of men of
genius, and the improvement of the society and religion
of France. After the death of the king (in 1715), she retired
to Saint-Cyr, and spent the remainder of her life in
acts of charity and devotional exercises.</p>
<p>After the king's death she dismissed all her servants
and disposed of her carriages as well, "unable to reconcile
herself to feeding horses while so many young girls were
in need," as she said. For almost four years she peacefully
and happily lived in a very modest apartment. She
seldom went out and then only to the village to visit the
sick and the poor. On June 10, 1717, when she was
eighty-one years old, Peter the Great went to Saint-Cyr
for the purpose of seeing and talking to the greatest
woman of France. He found her confined to her bed; the
chamber being but dimly lighted, he thrust aside the curtain
in order to examine the features of the woman who
had ruled the destinies of France for so many years. The
Czar talked to her for some time, and when he asked
Madame de Maintenon from what she was suffering, she
replied: "From great old age." She died on August 15,
1719, and was buried in the choir of the church of Saint-Cyr,
where a modest slab of marble indicated the spot
where her body reposed until, in 1794, when the church
was being transformed into hospital wards, "the workmen
opened the vault, and took out the body and dragged it
into the court with dreadful yells and threw it, stripped
and mutilated, into a hole in the cemetery."</p>
<p>The greatest work of Mme. de Maintenon was the
founding of the Seminary of Saint-Cyr, which the king
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page158" id="page158"></a>[pg 158]</span>
granted to her about the time of their marriage and of his
illness; it was probably intended as the penance of a sick
man who wished to make reparation for the wrongs inflicted
upon some of the young girls of the nobility, and as
a wedding gift to Mme. de Maintenon. There, aided by
nuns, she cared for and educated two hundred and fifty
pupils, dowerless daughters of impoverished nobles. It
was "the veritable offspring of her who was never a
daughter, a wife, nor a mother." There she was happy
and content; there she recalled her own youth when
she was poor and forsaken; there she found respite from
the turmoils and agitations of Versailles; there she was
supreme; there she governed absolutely and was truly loved.</p>
<p>For thirty years she was queen at Saint-Cyr, visiting it
every other day and teaching the young girls for whom
it was a protection against the world. Since childhood,
she had been so accustomed to serve herself, to wait upon
others and to care for the smallest details of the management
of the household, that she introduced this spirit into
society and at Saint-Cyr, where she managed every detail,
from the linen to the provisions; this showed a reasonable
and well-balanced mind, but not any high order of intelligence.</p>
<p>Of the young girls in her charge, she desired to make
model women, characterized by simplicity and piety; they
were to be free from morbid curiosity of mind, were to
practise absolute self-denial and to devote their lives to a
practical labor. Her advice was: "Be reasonable or you
will be unhappy; if you are haughty, you will be reminded
of your misery, but if you are humble, people will recall
your birth.... Commence by making yourself loved,
without which you will never succeed. Is it not true that,
had you not loved me or had you had an aversion for me,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page159" id="page159"></a>[pg 159]</span>
you would not have accepted, with such good grace, the
counsels that I have given you? This is absolutely certain—the
most beautiful things when taught by persons
who displease us, do not impress but rather harden us."</p>
<p>A counsel that strikes home forcibly to-day, one which
strongly attacks the modern fad of neglecting home for
church, is expressed well in one of her letters: "Your
piety will not be right if, when married, you abandon your
husband, your children and your servants, to go to the
churches at times when you are not obliged to go there.
When a young girl says that a woman would do better
properly to raise her children and instruct her servants,
than to spend her morning in church, one can accommodate
one's self to such religion, which she will cause to be loved and respected."</p>
<p>At the hour of leisure, she gave the girls those familiar
talks which were anticipated by them with so much pleasure,
and extracts from which are still cherished by the
young women of France. She believed that the aim of
instruction for young girls should be to educate them to be
Christian women with well-balanced and logical minds.
With her varied experience of the ups and downs of life,
she gradually came to the conclusion that, after all, there
is nothing in the world so good as sound common sense,
but one that is not enamored of itself, which obeys established
laws and knows its own limits. Her sex is intended
to obey, thus her reason was a Christian reason.</p>
<p>"You can be truly reasonable only in proportion as you
are subservient to God.... Never tell children fantastic
stories, nor permit them to believe them; give them
things for what they are worth. Never tell them stories
of which, when they grow to independent reasoning, you
must disillusion them. You must talk to a girl of seven
as seriously and with as much reason as to a young lady
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page160" id="page160"></a>[pg 160]</span>
of twenty. You must take part in the pleasures of children,
but never accommodate them with a childish language
or with foolish or puerile ways. You can never be
too reasonable or too sane. Religion, reason, and truth are always good."</p>
<p>To appreciate the importance of Mme. de Maintenon's
position and the revolutionary effect which her attitude
produced upon the customs of the time, one must remember
with what she had to contend. Hers was a period of
passion and adventure—a period which was followed by
sorrow and disaster. The novels of Mlle. de Scudéry,
which were at the height of their popularity, had over-refined
the sentiments; the <i>chevaleresque</i> heroes and picturesque
heroines turned the heads of young girls, who
dreamed of an ideal and perfect love; their one longing
was for the romantic—for the enchantments and delights
of life. In this stilted and amorous atmosphere, Mme. de
Maintenon preserved her poise and fought vigorously
against the fads of the day. The young girls under her
care were taught to love just as they were taught to do
other things—with reason. Also, she guarded against the
weaknesses of nature and the flesh. "Than Mme. de
Maintenon, no one ever better knew the evils of the world
without having fallen prey to them," says Sainte-Beuve;
"and no one ever satisfied and disgusted the world more,
while charming it at the same time."</p>
<p>Mme. de Maintenon's ideal methods of education were
not immediately effective; there were many periods of
hardship, apprehension, and doubt. Thus, when Racine's
<i>Esther</i> (written at the request of Mme. de Maintenon, to
be presented by the pupils at Saint-Cyr) was performed,
there sprang up a taste for poetry, writing, and literature
of all kinds. The acting turned the girls' thoughts into
other channels and threatened to counteract the teachings
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" id="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span>
of simplicity and reason; no one ever showed more genuine
good sense, wholesomeness of mind, and breadth of
view, than were displayed by Mme. de Maintenon in
dealing with these disheartening drawbacks.</p>
<p>In endeavoring to impress upon those young minds the
correct use of language and the proper style of writing,
she wrote for them models of letters which showed simplicity,
precision, truth, facility, and wonderful clearness;
and these were imitated by them in their replies to her.</p>
<p>She wished, above all, to make them realize that her
experience with that social and court life, for which they
longed, was one of disappointment: that was a world apart,
in which amusing and being amused was the one occupation.
She had passed wearily through that period of life,
and sought repose, truth, tranquillity, and religious resignation;
to make those young spirits feel the fallacy of
such a mode of existence was her earnest desire, and her
efforts in that direction were characterized by a zeal,
energy, and persistence which were productive of wonderful
results. That was one phase of her greatness and influence.</p>
<p>But Mme. de Maintenon was somewhat too severe, too
narrow, too strict,—one might say, too ascetic,—in her
teaching. There was too little of that which, in this world,
cheers, invigorates, and enlivens. Her instruction was all
reason, without relieving features; it lacked what Sainte-Beuve
calls the <i>don des larmes</i> (gift of tears). Hers was
a noble, just, courageous, and delicate judgment; but it
was without the softening qualities of the truly feminine,
which calls for tears and affection, tenderness and sympathy.</p>
<p>She remains in educational affairs the greatest woman
of the seventeenth century, if not of all her countrywomen.
M. Faguet says: "This widow of Scarron, who was nearly
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" id="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span>
Queen of France, was born minister of public instruction."
She powerfully upheld the cause of morality, was a
liberal patroness of education and learning, and all aspiring
geniuses were encouraged and financially aided by her.
It was she who impressed upon Louis XIV. the truth of
the existence of a God to whom he was accountable for his
acts—a teaching which contributed no little to the general
purification of morals at court.</p>
<p>The writings of Mme. de Maintenon occupy a very high
place in the history of French literature; in fact, her letters
have often been compared with those of Mme. de Sévigné,
although, unlike the latter, she never wrote merely
to please, but to instruct, to convert, and to console. In
her works there was no pretension to literary style; they
were sermons on morals, characterized by discretion and
simplicity, dignity and persuasiveness, seriousness and
earnestness; Napoleon placed her letters above those of
Mme. de Sévigné. M. Saint-Amand says of her writings:
"More reflection than vivacity, more wisdom than passion,
more gravity than charm, more authority than grace,
more solidity than brilliancy—such are the characteristics
of a correspondence which might justify the expression, the style is the woman."</p>
<p>He gives, also, the following discriminating comparison
between the two writers: "Enjoyment, Gallic animation,
good-tempered gayety, fall to the lot of Mme. de Sévigné;
what marks Mme. de Maintenon is experience, reason,
profundity. The one laughs from ear to ear—the other
barely smiles. The one has pleasant illusions about everything,
admiration which borders on <i>naïveté</i>, ecstasies when
in the presence of the royal sun: the other never permits
herself to be fascinated by either the king or the court,
by men, women, or things. She has seen human grandeur
too close at hand not to understand its nothingness,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" id="page163"></a>[pg 163]</span>
and her conclusions bear the imprint of a profound sadness.
At times Mme. de Sévigné, also, has attacks of
melancholy, but the cloud passes quickly and she is again
in the sunshine. Gayety—frank, communicative, radiant
gayety—is the basis of the character of this woman
who is more witty, seductive, and amusing than is any
other. Mme. de Sévigné shines by imagination—Mme.
de Maintenon by judgment. The one permits herself to
be dazzled, intoxicated—the other always preserves her
indifference. The one exaggerates the splendors of the
court—the other sees them as they are. The one is more
of a woman—the other more of a saint."</p>
<p>Mme. de Maintenon may be called "a woman of fate,"
She was never daughter, mother, or wife; as a child, she
was not loved by her mother, and her father was worthless;
married to two men, both aged beyond their years, she
was, indeed, but an instrument of fate. Truthful, candid,
and discreet she was entirely free from all morbid tendencies,
and was modest and chaste from inclination as well
as from principle. Though outwardly cold, proud, and reserved,
yet in her deportment toward those who were
fortunate enough to possess her esteem, she was kind—even
loving. While not intelligent to a remarkable degree,
she was prudent, circumspect, and shrewd, never losing
her self-control. When once interested, and convinced as
to the proper course, she displayed marvellous strength of
will, sagacity, and personal force. Beautiful and witty, she
easily adapted herself to any position in which she might
be placed; though intolerant and narrow in her religious
views, she was otherwise gentle, charitable, and unselfish.
Therefore, it is evident that she possessed, to a greater
degree than did any other woman of her time, unusual as
well as desirable qualities—qualities that made her powerful and incomparable.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page165" id="page165"></a>[pg 165]</span>
<h2>Chapter VI</h2>
<h2>Mme. de Sévigné, Mme. de La Fayette, Mme. Dacier, Mme. de Caylus</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" id="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span>
<p>The seventeenth century was, in French history, the
greatest century from the standpoint of literary perfection,
the sixteenth century the richest in naissant ideas,
and the eighteenth the greatest in the way of developing and
formulating those ideas; and each century produced great
women who were in perfect harmony with and expressed
the ideals of each period of civilization.</p>
<p>It is not within the limits of reason to expect women
to rival, in literature, the great writers such as Corneille,
Racine, Molière, Bossuet, La Fontaine, Descartes, Pascal—most
of whom were but little influenced by femininity;
there were those, however, among the sex, who were
conspicuous for elevation of thought, dignity in manner
and bearing, and brilliancy in conversation—attributes
which they have left to posterity in numberless exquisite
and charming letters, in interesting and invaluable
memoirs, or in consummate psychological and social portraitures
incorporated into the form of novels. Among
female writers of letters, Mme. de Sévigné wears the
laurel wreath; Mme. de La Fayette, with Mlle. de Scudéry,
is the representative of the novel; Mme. Dacier
was the great advocate of the more liberal education of
women; and the <i>Souvenirs</i> of Mme. de Caylus made that authoress immortal.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" id="page168"></a>[pg 168]</span>
<p>The association of La Rochefoucauld, the Cardinal de
Retz, the Chevalier de Meré, Mme. de La Fayette, and
Mme. de Sévigné, was responsible for almost everything
elevating and of interest produced in the seventeenth century.
Of that highly intellectual circle, Mme. de Sévigné
was the leading spirit by force of her extraordinary faculty
for making friends, her wonderful talent as a writer, her
originality and her charming disposition. She gave the
tone to letters; M. Faguet says that her epistles were all
masterpieces of amiable badinage, lively narration, maternal
passion, true eloquence. More than that, they are important
sources of historical knowledge, inasmuch as they
contain much information concerning the politics of the
day, and furnish an excellent guide to the etiquette,
fashions, tastes, and literature of the writer's period.</p>
<p>Mme. de Sévigné was the most important figure of the
time, being to that third prodigiously intellectual epoch of
France what Marguerite de Navarre was to the sixteenth
century, and the Hôtel de Rambouillet to the beginning
of the seventeenth century. She represented the style,
<i>esprit</i>, elegance, and <i>goût</i> of this greatest of French cultural
periods. Her life may be considered as having had
two distinct phases—one connected with an unhappy marriage
and the other the period of a restless widowhood.</p>
<p>Marie de Rabutin-Chantal, Marchioness of Sévigné, was
born at Paris, in 1626; at the age of eighteen months she
lost her father; at seven years of age, her mother; at
eight, her grandmother; at ten, her grandfather on her
mother's side; she was thus left with her paternal grandmother,
Mme. de Chantal, who had her carefully educated
under the best masters, such as Ménage and Chapelain
(court favorites), from whom she early imbibed a genuine
taste for solid reading; from these instructors she learned
Spanish, Italian, and Latin.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page169" id="page169"></a>[pg 169]</span>
<p>In 1644, she was married to the Marquis Henri de
Sévigné, who was killed six years later in a duel, but who
had, in the meantime, succeeded in making a considerable
gap in her immense fortune, in spite of the precautions of
her uncle, the Abbé of Coulanges. Henceforward, her
interests in life were centred in the education of her two
children; to them she wrote letters which have brought
her name down to posterity as, possibly, the greatest
epistolary writer that the history of literature has ever recorded.</p>
<p>Mme. de Sévigné was but nineteen years old when,
after the marriage of Julie d'Angennes, the frequenters of
the Hôtel de Rambouillet began to disperse, and she was in
much demand by the successors of Mme. de Rambouillet.
While the women of the reign of Louis XIII.—Mmes. de
Hautefort, de Sablé, de Longueville, de Chevreuse, etc.—were
exceedingly talented talkers, they were poor writers:
but in Mme. de Sévigné, Mme. de La Fayette, and Mlle. de
Scudéry both arts were developed to the highest degree.</p>
<p>Mme. de Sévigné was on the best terms with every
great writer of her time—Pascal, Racine, La Fontaine,
Bossuet, Bourdaloue, La Rochefoucauld. She was a
woman of such broad affections that numerous friends and
admirers were a necessary part of her existence. Of all the
eminent women of the seventeenth century, she had the
greatest number of lovers—suitors who frequently became
her tormentors. Ménage, her teacher, who threatened to
leave her never to see her again, was brought back to her
by kind words, such as: "Farewell, friend—of all my
friends the best." The Abbé Marigny, that "delicate
epicurean, that improviser of fine triolets, ballads, vaudevilles,
that enemy of all sadness and sticklers for morality,"
charmed her, at times, with sentimental ballads, such as the following:</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page170" id="page170"></a>[pg 170]</span>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"Si l'amour est un doux servage,</p>
<p>Si l'on ne peut trop estimer</p>
<p>Les plaisirs ou l'amour engage,</p>
<p>Qu'on est sot de ne pas aimer!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Mais si l'on se sent enflammer</p>
<p>D'un feu dont l'ardeur est extrême,</p>
<p>Et qu'on n'ose pas l'exprimer,</p>
<p>Qu'on est sot alors que l'on aime!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Si dans la fleur de son bel âge,</p>
<p>Une qui pourrait tout charmer,</p>
<p>Vous donne son cœur en partage,</p>
<p>Qu'on est sot de ne point aimer!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Mais s'il faut toujours s'alarmer,</p>
<p>Craindre, rougir, devenir blême,</p>
<p>Aussitôt qu'on s'entend nommer,</p>
<p>Qu'on est sot alors que l'on aime!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Pour complaire au plus beau visage</p>
<p>Qu'amour puisse jamais former,</p>
<p>S'il ne faut rien qu'un doux langage,</p>
<p>Qu'on est sot de ne pas aimer!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>"Mais quand on se voit consumer.</p>
<p>Si la belle est toujours de même,</p>
<p>Sans que rien la puisse animer,</p>
<p>Qu'on est sot alors que l'on aime!</p>
</div> </div>
<center>"L'ENVOI.</center>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"En amour si rien n'est amer,</p>
<p>Qu'on est sot de ne pas aimer!</p>
<p>Si tout l'est au degré suprême,</p>
<p>Qu'on est sot alors que l'on aime!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>[If love is a sweet bondage,</p>
<p>If we cannot esteem too much</p>
<p>The pleasures in which love engages,</p>
<p>How foolish one is not to love!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>But if we feel ourselves inflamed</p>
<p>With a passion whose ardor is extreme,</p>
<p>And which we dare not express,</p>
<p>How foolish we are, then, to love!</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page171" id="page171"></a>[pg 171]</span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>If in the flower of her youth</p>
<p>There is one who could charm all.</p>
<p>And offers you her heart to share,</p>
<p>How very foolish not to love!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>But if we must always be full of alarm—</p>
<p>Fear, blush and become pallid,</p>
<p>As soon as our name is spoken,</p>
<p>How foolish to love!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>If to please the most beautiful countenance</p>
<p>That love can ever form,</p>
<p>Only a mellow language is necessary,</p>
<p>How foolish not to love!</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>But if we see ourselves wasting away,</p>
<p>If the belle is always the same</p>
<p>And cannot be animated,</p>
<p>How very foolish to love!</p>
</div> </div>
<center>ENVOY.</center>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>If in love, nothing is bitter,</p>
<p>How dreadfully foolish not to love!</p>
<p>If everything is so to the highest degree,</p>
<p>How awfully foolish to love!]</p>
</div> </div>
<p>Tréville went so far as to say that the figure of Mme.
de Sévigné was beautiful enough to set the world afire.
M. du Bled divides her lovers into three classes: the first
was composed of her literary friends; the second, of those
enamored, impassioned suitors, loving her from good
motives or from the opposite, who strove to compensate
her for the unfaithfulness of her husband while alive and
for the ennui of her widowhood; the third class was composed
of her Parisian friends, of whom she had hosts,
court habitués who were leaders of society.</p>
<p>Representatives of the second class were the Prince de
Conti, the great Turenne, various counts and marquises,
and Bussy-Rabutin, who was a type of the sensual lover
and the more dangerous on account of the privileges he
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page172" id="page172"></a>[pg 172]</span>
enjoyed because of his close relationship to Mme. de Sévigné.
His portrait of her is interesting: "I must tell you,
madame, that I do not think there is a person in the world
so generally esteemed as you are. You are the delight of
humankind; antiquity would have erected altars to you,
and you would certainly have been a goddess of something.
In our century, when we are not so lavish with incense,
and especially for living merit, we are contented to say
that there is not a woman of your age more virtuous and
more amiable than are you. I know princes of the blood,
foreign princes, great lords with princely manners, great
captains, gentlemen, ministers of state, who would be off
and away for you, if you would permit them. Can you ask any more?"</p>
<p>Such eulogies came not only from men like the perfidious
and cruel cousin, but from her friends everywhere. The
finest of these is the one by her friend Mme. de La Fayette,
contained in one of the epistolary portraits so much
in vogue at that time, and which were turned out, <i>par excellence</i>,
in the salon of Mlle. de Luxembourg: "Know,
madame,—if by chance you do not already know it,—that
your mind adorns and embellishes your person so well
that there is not another one on earth so charming as you
when you are animated in a conversation in which all
constraint is banished. Your soul is great, noble, ready
to dispense with treasures, and incapable of lowering itself
to the care of amassing them. You are sensible to glory
and ambition, and to pleasures you are less so; yet you
appear to be born for the latter, and they made for you;
your person augments pleasures, and pleasures increase
your beauty when they surround you. Joy is the veritable
state of your soul, and chagrin is more unlike to you
than to anyone. You are the most civil and obliging person
that ever lived, and by a free and calm air—which is in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page173" id="page173"></a>[pg 173]</span>
all your actions—the simplest compliments of seemliness
appear, in your mouth, as protestations of friendship."</p>
<p>The originality which gained Mme. de Sévigné so many
friends lay principally in her force, wealth of resource,
intensity, sincerity, and frankness. M. Scherer said she
possessed "surprises for us, infinite energy, inexhaustible
variety—everything that eternally revives interest."</p>
<p>The interest of the modern world in this remarkable
woman is centred mainly in her letters. Guizot says:
"Mme. de Sévigné is a friend whom we read over and
over again, whose emotions we share, to whom we go for
an hour's distraction and delightful chat; we have no
desire to chat with Mme. de Grignan (her daughter)—we
gladly leave her to her mother's exclusive affection, feeling
infinitely obliged to her for having existed, inasmuch
as her mother wrote letters to her. Mme. de Sévigné's
letters to her daughter are superior to all her other epistles,
charming as they all are; when she writes to M. Pomponne,
to M. de Coulanges, to M. de Bussy, the style is
less familiar, the heart less open, the soul less stirred; she
writes to her daughter as she would speak to her—it is
not a letter, it is an animated and charming conversation,
touching upon everything, embellishing everything with an inimitable grace."</p>
<p>She had married her daughter to the Comte de Grignan,
a man of forty, twice married, and with children, homely,
but wealthy and aristocratic; writing to her cousin, Bussy-Rabutin,
concerning this marriage, she said: "All these
women (the count's former wives) died expressly to make
room for your cousin." By marrying her daughter to such
a man she encouraged all the questionable proprieties of
the time. Mme. de Sévigné's affection for that daughter
amounted almost to idolatry; it was to her that most of
the mother's letters were written, telling her of her health,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page174" id="page174"></a>[pg 174]</span>
what was being done at Vichy, and about her business
and for that child the authoress gave up her life at Paris
in order to economize and thereby to help Mme. de Grignan
in her extravagance, her son-in-law being an expert in spending money.</p>
<p>The intensity of her nature is well reflected in her letter
upon the separation from her daughter: "In vain I seek
my darling daughter; I can no longer find her, and every
step she takes removes her farther from me. I went to
St. Mary's, still weeping and dying of grief; it seemed as
if my heart and my soul were being wrenched from me
and, in truth, what a cruel separation! I asked leave to
be alone; I was taken into Mme. du Housset's room, and
they made me up a fire. Agnes sat looking at me, without
speaking—that was our bargain. I stayed there till five
o'clock, without ceasing to sob; all my thoughts were mortal
wounds to me. I wrote to M. de Grignan (you can
imagine in what key). Then I went to Mme. de La Fayette's,
and she redoubled my griefs by the interest she
took in them; she was alone, ill, and distressed at the death
of one of the nuns; she was just as I should have desired,
I returned hither at eight; but oh, when I came in! can
you conceive what I felt as I mounted these stairs? That
room into which I always used to go, alas! I found the
doors of it open, but I saw everything upturned, disarranged,
and your little daughter, who reminded me of
mine.... The wakenings of the night were dreadful.
I think of you continuously—it is what devotees call
habitual thought, such as one should have of God, if one
did one's duty. Nothing gives me diversion; I see that
carriage which is forever going on and will never come
near me. I am forever on the highways; it seems as if I
were sometimes afraid that the carriage will upset with
me; the rains there for the last three days, drove me to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page175" id="page175"></a>[pg 175]</span>
despair. The Rhone causes me strange alarm. I have a
map before my eyes—I know all the places where you
sleep. This evening you are at Nevers; on Sunday you
will be at Lyons where you will receive this letter. I
have received only two of yours—perhaps the third will
come; that is the only comfort I desire; as for others, I seek none."</p>
<p>The letters of Mme. de Sévigné contain a great number
of sayings applicable to habits and conduct, and these
have had their part in shaping the customs and in depicting
the time. To be modest and moderate, friendly, and
conciliatory, to be content with one's lot and to bow to
circumstances, to be sincere, to cultivate good sense and
good grace—these counsels have been and still are, according
to French opinion, the basis of French character:
and Mme. de Sévigné's own popularity and success attest their wisdom.</p>
<p>She had not the gift of seeing things vividly and reproducing
them in living form; her talent was a rarer one—it
induced the reader to form a mental picture of the scene
described, so vivid as to be under the illusion of being
present in reality; and this is done with so much grace,
charm, happy ease and naturalness, that to read her letters
means to love the writer. What mother or friend would
not fall a willing victim to the charm of a woman who
could write the following letter?</p>
<p>"You ask me, my dear child, whether I continue to be
really fond of life; I confess to you that I find poignant
sorrows in it, but I am even more disgusted with death;
I feel so wretched at having to end all thereby, that, if I
could turn back again, I would ask for nothing better,
I find myself under an obligation which perplexes me; I
embark upon life without my consent, and so must I go
out of it; that overwhelms me. And how shall I go?
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page176" id="page176"></a>[pg 176]</span>
Which way? By what door? When will it be? In what
condition? Shall I suffer a thousand, thousand pains which
will make me die desperate? Shall I have brain fever?
Shall I die of an accident? How shall I be with God?
What shall I have to show Him? Shall fear, shall necessity
bring me back to Him? Shall I have sentiment except
that of dread? What can I hope? Am I worthy of
heaven? Am I worthy of hell? Nothing is such madness
as to leave one's salvation in uncertainty, but nothing is
so natural. The stupid life I lead is the easiest thing in the
world to understand; I bury myself in these thoughts and
I find death so terrible that I hate life more because it leads
me thereto, than because of the thorns with which it is
planted. You will say that I want to live forever, then;
not at all; but, if my opinion had been asked, I would have
preferred to die in my nurse's arms; that would have removed
me from the vexations of spirit and would have
given me heaven full surely and easily."</p>
<p>Mme. de Sévigné never bored her readers with her own
reflections. She differed from her contemporaries, who
seemed to be dead to nature's beauty, in her striking descriptions
of nature. A close observer, she knew how to
describe a landscape; animating and enlivening it, and
making it talk, she inspired the reader with love of it.</p>
<p>"I am going to be alone and I am very glad. Provided
they do not take away from me the charming country, the
shore of the Allier, the woods, streams, and meadows,
the sheep and goats, the peasant girls who dance the
<i>bourrée</i> in the fields, I consent to say adieu; the country
alone will cure me.... I have come here to end the
beautiful days and to say adieu to the foliage—it is still
on the trees, it has only changed color; instead of being
green, it is golden, and of so many golden tints that it
makes a brocade of rich and magnificent gold, which we
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page177" id="page177"></a>[pg 177]</span>
are likely to find more beautiful than the green, if only it
were not for the changing part."</p>
<p>If the style of her letters did not make her the greatest
prose writer of her time, it certainly entitled her to rank
as one of the most original. The prose of the seventeenth
century lacked "easy suppleness in lively movement, and
imagination in the expression"—two qualities which Mme.
de Sévigné possessed in a high degree. The slow and
grave development, the just and harmonious equilibrium,
the amplitude, are in her supplanted by a quick, alert,
and free <i>saillie</i>; the detail and marvellous exactness are
enriched by color, abundance of imagery, and metaphors.
M. Faguet says she is to prose what La Fontaine is to poetry.</p>
<p>The literary style of Mme. de Sévigné is not learned,
studied, nor labored. In an epoch in which the language
was already formed, she did what Montaigne did a century
before, when, we may almost assert, he had to create
the French language. Her most striking expressions are
her own—newly coined, not taken from the vocabulary in
usage. Her style cannot be duplicated, and for this
reason she has few imitators. Her letters show that they
were improvised—her pen doing, alone, the work over
which she seemed to have no control when communicating
with her daughter; to the latter she said: "I write prose
with a facility that will kill you."</p>
<p>Mme. de Sévigné was possibly not a beautiful woman,
but she was a charming one; broad in the scope of her
affections, she found the making of friends no difficult
task. M. Vallery-Radot leaves the following picture of her:
"A blonde, with exuberant health, a transparent complexion,
blue eyes, so frank, so limpid, a nose somewhat
square, a mouth ready to smile, shoulders that seem to
lend splendor to her pearl necklace. Her gayety and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page178" id="page178"></a>[pg 178]</span>
goodness are so in evidence that there is about her a kind
of atmosphere of good humor."</p>
<p>M. du Bled most admirably sums up her character and
writings in the following: "She is the person who most
resembles her writings—that is, those that are found; for
alas! many (the most confidential, the most interesting, I
think) are lost forever: in them she is reflected as she reflects
French society in them. Endowed—morally and
physically—with a robust health, she is expansive, loyal,
confiding, impressionable, loving gayety in full abundance
as much as she does the smile of the refined, as eager for
the prattle of the court as for solid reading, smitten with
nobiliary pride, a captive of the prejudices, superstitions
and tastes of her caste (or of even her coterie), with her
pen hardly tender for her neighbor—her daughter and intimates
excepted. A manager and a woman of imagination,
a Frondist at the bottom of her soul, and somewhat
of a Jansenist—not enough, however, not to cry out that
Louis XIV. will obscure the glory of his predecessors because
he had just danced with her—faithful to her friends
(Retz, Fouquet, Pomponne) in disgrace and detesting
their persecutors, seeking the favor of court for her children.
In the salons, she is celebrated for her <i>esprit</i>—and
this at an age when one seldom thinks about reputation,
when one is like the princess who replied to a question on
the state of her soul, 'At twenty one has no soul;' and she
possesses the qualities that are so essential to style—natural <i>éclat</i>,
originality of expression, grace, color, amplitude
without pomposity and abundance without prolixity;
moreover, she invents nothing, but, knowing how to observe
and to express in perfection everything she had seen
and felt, she is a witness and painter of her century: also,
she loves nature—a sentiment very rare in the seventeenth century."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page179" id="page179"></a>[pg 179]</span>
<p>Mme. de Sévigné was endowed with the best qualities
of the French race—good will and friendliness, which influence
one to judge others favorably and to desire their
esteem; of a very impressionable nature, she was gifted
with a natural eloquence which enabled her to express her
various emotions in a light or gay vein which often bordered
on irony. Affectionate and appreciative and tender and
kind to everyone in general, toward those whom she loved
she was generous to a fault and unswerving in her fidelity.</p>
<p>Her last years were spent in the midst of her family.
She died in 1696, of small-pox, thanking God that she was
the first to go, after having trembled for the life of her
daughter, whom she had nursed back to health after a long
and dangerous illness. Her son-in-law, M. de Grignan,
wrote to her uncle, M. de Coulanges:</p>
<p>"What calls far more for our admiration than for our
regret, is the spectacle of a brave woman facing death—of
which she had no doubt from the first days of her illness—with astounding
firmness and submission. This person, so
tender and so weak towards all whom she loved, showed
nothing but courage and piety when she believed that her
hour had come; and, impressed by the use she managed to
make of that good store in the last moments of her life, we
could not but remark of what utility and of what importance
it is to have the mind stocked with the good matter
and holy reading for which Mme. de Sévigné had a liking—not
to say a wonderful hunger."</p>
<p>In order to give an idea of the place that Mme. de
Sévigné holds in the opinion of the average Frenchman,
we quote the final words of M. Vallery-Radot:</p>
<p>"To take a place among the greatest writers, without
ever having written a book or even having thought of
writing one—this is what seems impossible, and yet this is
what happened to Mme. de Sévigné. Her contemporaries
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page180" id="page180"></a>[pg 180]</span>
knew her as a woman distinguished for her <i>esprit</i>, frank,
playful and sprightly humor, irreproachable conduct,
loyalty to her friends, and as an idolizer of her daughter;
no one suspected that she would partake of the glory of
our classical authors—and she, less than any one. She
had immortalized herself, without wishing or knowing it,
by an intimate correspondence which is, to-day, universally
regarded as one of the most precious treasures and
one of the most original monuments to French literature.
To deceive the <i>ennui</i> of absence, she wrote to her daughter
all that she had in her heart and that came to her mind—what
she did, wished to do, saw and learned, news of
court, city, Brittany, army, everything—sadly or gayly,
according to the subject, always with the most keen,
ardent, delicate, and touching sentiments of tenderness
and sympathy. She amuses, instructs, interests, moves
to tears or laughter. All that passes within or before her,
passes within and before us. If she depicts an object, we
see it; if she relates an event, we are present at its
occurrence; if she makes a character talk, we hear his
words, see his gestures, and distinguish his accent. All is
true, real, living: this is more than talent—it is enchantment.
Generations pass away in turn; a single one, or,
rather, a group escapes the general oblivion—the group of
friends of Mme. de Sévigné."</p>
<p>A woman with characteristics the very opposite of those
of Mme. de Sévigné, but who in some respects resembled
her, was Mme. de La Fayette. Of her life, very little
is to be said, except in regard to her lasting friendship
and attachment for La Rochefoucauld. She was born in
1634, and, with Mme. de Sévigné, was probably the best
educated among the great women of the seventeenth century.
She was faithful to her husband, the Count of La
Fayette, who, in 1665, took her to Paris, where she
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page181" id="page181"></a>[pg 181]</span>
formed her lifelong attachment for the great La Rochefoucauld,
and where she won immediate recognition for her
exquisite politeness and as a woman with a large fund of common sense.</p>
<p>After her marriage, she seemed to have but one interest—La
Rochefoucauld, just as that of Mme. de Maintenon
was Louis XIV. and that of Mme. de Sévigné—her
daughter. These three prominent women illustrate remarkably
well that predominant trait of French women—faithfulness
to a chosen cause; each one of the three was
vitally concerned in an enduring, a legitimate, and sincere
attachment, which state of affairs gives a certain distinction
to the society of the time of Louis XIV.</p>
<p>Mme. de La Fayette, like Mme. de Sévigné, possessed
an exceptional talent for making and retaining friends.
She kept aloof from intrigues, in fact, knew nothing about
them, and consequently never schemed to use her favor at
court for purposes of self-interest. Two qualities belonged
to her more than to any of her contemporaries—an instinct
which was superior to her reason, and a love of truth in all things.</p>
<p>Compared with those of Mme. de Rambouillet, it is said
that her attainments were of a more solid nature; and
while Mlle. de Scudéry had greater brilliancy, Mme. de
La Fayette had better judgment. These qualities combined
with an exquisite delicacy, fine sentiment, calmness,
and depth of reason, the very basis of her nature, are
reflected in her works. Sainte-Beuve says that "her
reason and experience cool her passion and temper the
ideal with the results of observation." She was one of
the very few women playing any rôle in French history
who were endowed with all things necessary to happiness—fortune,
reputation, talent, intimate and ideal friendship.
Extremely sensitive to surroundings, she readily received
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page182" id="page182"></a>[pg 182]</span>
impressions—a gift which was the source of a somewhat doubtful happiness.</p>
<p>In her later days, notwithstanding terrible suffering, she
became more devout and exhibited an admirable resignation.
A letter to Ménage will show the mental and physical
state reached by her in her last days: "Although you
forbid me to write to you, I wish, nevertheless, to tell
you how truly affected I am by your friendship. I appreciate
it as much as when I used to see it; it is dear to me
for its own worth, it is dear to me because it is at present
the only one I have. Time and old age have taken all my
friends away from me.... I must tell you the state
I am in. I am, first of all, a mortal divinity, and to an
excess inconceivable; I have obstructions in my entrails—sad, inexpressible
feelings; I have no spirit, no force—I
cannot read or apply myself. The slightest things affect
me—a fly appears an elephant to me; that is my ordinary
state.... I cannot believe that I can live long in
this condition, and my life is too disagreeable to permit me
to fear the end. I surrender myself to the will of God;
He is the All-Powerful, and, from all sides, we must go to
Him at last. They assure me that you are thinking seriously
of your salvation, and I am very happy over it."</p>
<p>There probably never existed a more ideal friendship
between two French women, one more lasting, sincere,
perfect in every way, than that of Mme. de Sévigné and
Mme. de La Fayette. The major part of the information we
possess regarding events in the life of Mme. de La Fayette
is obtained from their letters. Said Mme. de Sévigné:
"Never did we have the smallest cloud upon our friendship.
Long habit had not made her merit stale to me—the flavor
of it was always fresh and new. I paid her many attentions,
from the mere promptings of my affection, not because of
the propriety by which, in friendships, we are bound. I was
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page183" id="page183"></a>[pg 183]</span>
assured, too, that I was her dearest consolation—which, for
forty years past, had been the case."</p>
<p>Shortly before her death, she wrote to Mme. de Sévigné:
"Here is what I have done since I wrote you last. I have
had two attacks of fever; for six months I had not been
purged; I am purged once, I am purged twice; the day
after the second time, I sit down at the table; oh, dear! I
feel a pain in my heart—I do not want any soup. Have
a little meat, then? No, I do not wish any. Well, you
will have some fruit? I think I will. Very well, then,
have some. I don't know—I think I will have some by
and by. Let me have some soup and some chicken this
evening.... Here is the evening, and there are the
soup and the chicken; I don't desire them. I am nauseated,
I will go to bed—I prefer sleeping to eating. I go to
bed, I turn round, I turn back, I have no pain, but I have
no sleep either. I call—I take a book—I close it. Day
comes—I get up—I go to the window. It strikes four, five,
six—I go to bed again, I doze until seven, I get up at eight,
I sit down to table at twelve—to no purpose, as yesterday.... I
lay myself down in my bed, in the evening,
to no purpose, as the night before. Are you ill?
Nay, I am in this state for three days and three nights.
At present, I am getting some sleep again, but I still eat
mechanically, horsewise—rubbing my mouth with vinegar.
Otherwise, I am very well, and I haven't so much as a pain in my head."</p>
<p>Her depressing melancholy kept her indoors a great
deal; in fact, after 1683, after the death of the queen, who
was one of her best friends, she was seldom seen at court.
Mme. de Sévigné gives good reason for this in her letter:</p>
<p>"She had a mortal melancholy. Again, what absurdity!
is she not the most fortunate woman in the world?
That is what people said; it needed that she should die to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page184" id="page184"></a>[pg 184]</span>
prove that she had good reason for not going out and for
being melancholy. Her reins and her heart were all gone—was
not that enough to cause those fits of despondency
of which she complained? And so, during her life she
showed reason, and after death she showed reason, and
never was she without that divine reason which was her principal gift."</p>
<p>Her liaison with La Rochefoucauld is the one delicate
and tender point in her life, a relation that afforded her
much happiness and finally completed the ruin of her
health. M. d'Haussonville said: "It is true that he took
possession of her soul and intellect, little by little, so that
the two beings, in the eyes of their contemporaries, were
but one; for after his death (1680) she lived but an incomplete
and mutilated existence."</p>
<p>Some critics have ventured to pronounce this liaison one
of material love solely, others are convinced of its morality
and pure friendship. In favor of the latter view, M.
d'Haussonville suggests the fact that Mme. de La Fayette
was over thirty years of age when she became interested
in La Rochefoucauld, and that at that age women rarely
ally themselves with men from emotions of physical love
merely. At that age it is reason that mutually attracts
two beings; and this feeling was probably the predominant
one in that case, because her entire career was one of the
most extreme reserve, conservatism, good sense, and propriety.
However, other proofs are brought forward to
show that there was between the two a sort of moral
marriage, so many examples of which are found in the
seventeenth century between people of prominence, both
of whom happened to have unhappy conjugal experiences.</p>
<p>French society, one must remember, was different from
any in the world; it seems to have been a large family
gathering, the members of which were as intimate, took
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page185" id="page185"></a>[pg 185]</span>
as much interest in each other's affairs, showed as much
sympathy for one another and participated in each other's
sorrows and pleasures, as though they were children of the same parents.</p>
<p>In his early days, La Rochefoucauld found it convenient,
for selfish purposes, to simulate an ardent passion for
Mme. de Longueville, of which mention has been made in
the chapter relating to Mme. de Longueville. In his later
period, he had settled down to a normal mode of life and
sought the friendship of a more reasonable and less passionate
woman. He himself said:</p>
<p>"When women have well-informed minds, I like their
conversation better than that of men; you find, with them,
a certain gentleness which is not met with among us; and
it seems to me, besides, that they express themselves with
greater clearness and that they give a more pleasant turn
to the things they say."</p>
<p>Mme. de La Fayette exercised a great influence upon
La Rochefoucauld—an influence that was wholesome in
every way. It was through her influential friends at court
that he was helped into possession of his property, and it
was she who maintained it for him. As to his literary
work (his <i>Maxims</i>), her influence over him was supposed
to have somewhat modified his ideas on women and to
have softened his tone in general. She wrote: "He gave
me wit, but I reformed his heart." M. d'Haussonville has
proved, without doubt, that her restraint modified many
of his maxims that were tinged with the spirit of the
commonplace and trivial. While Mme. de Sablé—essentially
a moralist and a deeply religious woman—was more
of a companion to him, and though his maxims were, for
the greater part, composed in her salon, Mme. de La Fayette,
by her tenderness and judgment, tempered the tone
of them before they reached the public.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page186" id="page186"></a>[pg 186]</span>
<p>Mme. de La Fayette will always be known, however,
as the great novelist of the seventeenth century. Two
novels, two stories, two historical works, and her memoirs,
make up her literary budget. M. d'Haussonville claims
that her memoirs of the court of France are not reliable,
because she was so often absent from court; also, in them
she shows a tendency to avenge herself, in a way, upon
Mme. de Maintenon, whose friend she was until the trouble
between this lady and Mme. de Montespan occurred. The
latter was the intimate friend of Mme. de La Fayette. As
for her literary work proper, her desire to write was possibly
encouraged, if not created, by her indulgence in the
general fad of writing portraitures, in which she was especially
successful in portraying Mme. de Sévigné. Her
literary effort was, besides, a revolt of her own taste and
sense against the pompous and inflated language of the
novels of the day and against the great length of the development
of the events and adventures in them. Thus,
Mme. de La Fayette inaugurated a new style of novel; to
show her influence, it will be well to consider the state of
the Romanesque novel at the period of her writing.</p>
<p>In the beginning of the century, D'Urfé's novels were
in vogue; these works were characterized by interminable
developments, relieved by an infinite number of historical
episodes. All characters, shepherds as well as noblemen,
expressed the same sentiments and in the same language.
There was no pretension to truth in the portraying of
manners and customs.—A reaction was natural and took
the form of either a kind of parody or gross realism.
These novels, of which <i>Francion</i> and <i>Berger Extravagant</i>
were the best known, depicted shepherds of the Merovingian
times, heroes of Persia and Rome, or procurers,
scamps, and scoundrels; but no descriptions of the manners
of decent people (<i>honnêtes gens</i>) were to be found.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page187" id="page187"></a>[pg 187]</span>
<p>The novels of Mlle. de Scudéry, while interesting as
portraitures, are not thoroughly reliable in their representation
of the sentiments and environment of the times; on
the other hand, those of Mme. de La Fayette are impersonal—no
one of the characters is recognizable; yet their
atmosphere is that of the court of Louis XIV., and the
language, never so correct as to be unnatural, is that used
at the time. Her novels reflect perfectly the society of
the court and the manner of life there. "Thus," says
M. d'Haussonville, "she was the first to produce a novel
of observation and sentiment, the first to paint elegant
manners as they really were."</p>
<p>Her first production was <i>La Princesse de Montpensier</i>
(1662); in 1670, appeared <i>Zayde</i>, it was ostensibly the
work of Segrais, her teacher and a writer much in vogue
at the time; in 1678, <i>La Princesse de Clèves</i>, her masterpiece,
stirred up one of the first real quarrels of literary
criticism. For a long time after the appearance of that
book, society was divided into two classes—the pros and
the cons. It was the most popular work of the period.</p>
<p>M. d'Haussonville says it is the first French novel which
is an illustration of woman's ability to analyze the most
subtile of human emotions. Mme. de La Fayette was,
also, the first to elevate, in literature, the character of the
husband who, until then, was a nonentity or a booby; she
makes of him a hero—sympathetic, noble, and dignified.</p>
<p>In no fictitious tale before hers was love depicted with
such rare delicacy and pathos. In her novel, <i>La Princesse
de Clèves</i>, "a novel of a married woman, we feel the
woman who has loved and who knows what she is saying,
for she, also, has struggled and suffered." The writer
confesses her weakness and leaves us witness of her
virtue. All the soul struggles and interior combats represented
in her work the authoress herself has experienced.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page188" id="page188"></a>[pg 188]</span>
As an example of this we cite the description of the sentiments
of Mme. de Clèves when she realizes that her feeling
toward one of the members of the court may develop
into an emotion unworthy of her as a wife. She falls upon her knees and says:</p>
<p>"I am here to make to you a confession such as has
never been made to man; but the innocence of my conduct
and my intentions give me the necessary courage. It is
true that I have reasons for desiring to withdraw from
court, and that I wish to avoid the perils which persons of
my age experience. I have never shown a sign of weakness,
and I would not fear of ever showing any, if you
permitted me to withdraw from court, or if I still had, in
my efforts to do right, the support of Mme. de Chartres.
However dangerous may be the action I take, I take it
with pleasure, that I may be worthy of your actions, I
ask a thousand pardons; if I have sentiments displeasing
to you, I shall at least never displease you by my actions.
Remember, to do what I am doing, one must have for a
husband more friendship and esteem than was ever before
had. Have pity on me and lead me away—-and love me still, if you can."</p>
<p><i>La Princesse de Clèves</i> is a novel of human virtue purely,
and teaches that true virtue can find its reward in itself
and in the austere enjoyment of duty accomplished. "It
is a work that will endure, and be a comfort as well as a
guide to those who aspire to a high morality which necessitates
a difficult sacrifice."</p>
<p>M. d'Haussonville regards the novels of Mmes. de Charrière,
de Souza, de Duras, de Boigne, as mere imitations
or as having been inspired by that masterpiece of Mme. de
La Fayette. He says: "In fact, novels in general, that
depict the struggle between passion and duty, with the victory
on the side of virtue, emanate more or less from it."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page189" id="page189"></a>[pg 189]</span>
<p>Taine wrote: "She described the events in the careers
of society women, introducing no special terms of language
into her descriptions. She painted for the sake of painting
and did not think of attempting to surpass her predecessors.
She reflects a society whose scrupulous care was to
avoid even the slightest appearance of anything that might
displease or shock. She shows the exquisite tact of a
woman—and a woman of high rank."</p>
<p>Mme. de La Fayette is one of the very rare French
writers that have succeeded in analyzing love, passion,
and moral duty, without becoming monotonous, vulgar,
brutal, or excessively realistic. Her creations contain the
most minute analyses of heart and soul emotions, but
these never become purely physiologic and nauseating, as
in most novels. This achievement on her part has been
too little imitated, but it, alone, will preserve the name of
Mme. de La Fayette.</p>
<p>Mme. de Motteville is deserving of mention among the
important literary women of the seventeenth century.
She is regarded as one of the best women writers in
French literature, and her memoirs are considered authority
on the history of the Fronde and of Anne of Austria.
The poetry of Mme. des Houlières was for a long time
much in vogue; to-day, however, it is not read. The
memoirs of Mlle. de Montpensier are more occupied with
herself than with events of the time or the numerous
princes who tarried about her as longing lovers. Guizot
says: "She was so impassioned and haughty, with her
head so full of her own greatness, that she did not marry
in her youth, thinking no one worthy of her except the
king and the emperor, and they had no fancy for her."
The following portrait of her was sketched by herself:</p>
<p>"I am tall, neither fat nor thin, of a very fine and easy
figure. I have a good mien, arms and hands not beautiful,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page190" id="page190"></a>[pg 190]</span>
but a beautiful skin—and throat, too. I have a straight
leg and a well-shaped foot; my hair is light and of a beautiful
auburn; my face is long, its contour is handsome,
nose large and aquiline; mouth neither large nor small,
but chiselled and with a very pleasing expression; lips
vermilion, not fine, but not frightful, either; my eyes are
blue, neither large nor small, but sparkling, soft, and proud
like my mien. I talk a great deal, without saying silly
things or using bad words. I am a very vicious enemy,
being very choleric and passionate, and that, added to my
birth, may well make my enemies tremble; but I have,
also, a noble and kindly soul. I am incapable of any
base and black deed; and so I am more disposed to
mercy than to justice. I am melancholic, and fond of
reading good and solid books; trifles bore me—except
verses, and them I like, of whatever sort they may be;
and undoubtedly I am as good a judge of such things as if I were a scholar."</p>
<p>Possibly the greatest female scholar that France ever
produced was Mme. Dacier, a truly learned woman and
one of whom French women are proud; during her last
years she enjoyed the reputation of being one of the foremost
scholars of all Europe. It was Mme. de Lambert who wrote of her:</p>
<p>"I esteem Mme. Dacier infinitely. Our sex owes her
much; she has protested against the common error which
condemns us to ignorance. Men, as much from disdain as
from a fancied superiority, have denied us all learning;
Mme. Dacier is an example proving that we are capable
of learning. She has associated erudition and good manners;
for, at present, modesty has been displaced; shame
is no longer for vices, and women blush over their learning
only. She has freed the mind, held captive under this
prejudice, and she alone supports us in our rights."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page191" id="page191"></a>[pg 191]</span>
<p>Tanneguy-Lefèvre, the father of Mme. Dacier, was a
savant and a type of the scholars of the sixteenth century.
He brought up his sons to be like him—instructing them
in Greek, Latin, and antiquities. The young daughter,
present at all the lessons given to her brothers, acquired,
unaided, a solid education; her father, amazed at her marvellous
faculty for comprehending and remembering, soon
devoted most of his energy to her. He was, at that time,
professor at the College of Saumur; and he was conspicuous
not only for the liberty he exhibited in his pedagogical
duties, but for his general catholicity.</p>
<p>After the death of her father, the young daughter went
to Paris where her family friends, Chapelain and Huet,
encouraged her in her studies, the latter, who was assistant
preceptor to the dauphin, even going so far as to request her
to assist him in preparing the Greek text for the use of
the dauphin. She soon eclipsed all scholars of the time by
her illuminating studies of Greek authors and of the quality
of the new editions which she prepared of their works, but
she was continually pestered on account of her erudition
and her religion, the Protestant faith, to which she clung
while realizing that it had been the cause of the failure of
her father's advancement.</p>
<p>From that time appeared her famous series of translations
of Terence and Plautus, which were the delight of
the women of the period and which gave her the reputation
of being the most intellectual woman of the seventeenth
century. In 1635, when nearly thirty years of
age, she married M. Dacier, the favorite pupil of her
father, librarian to the king and translator of Plutarch—a
man of no means, but one who thoroughly appreciated
the worth of Mlle. Lefèvre. This union was spoken
of by her contemporaries as "the marriage of Greek and Latin."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page192" id="page192"></a>[pg 192]</span>
<p>Two years after their marriage, after long and serious
deliberation, both abjured Protestantism, adopted the Catholic
religion, and succeeded in converting the whole town of
Castres—an act which gained them royal favor, and
Louis XIV. granted them a pension of two thousand livres.
Sainte-Beuve states that their conversion was perfectly
sincere and conscientious. In all their subsequent works
were seen traces of Mme. Dacier's powerful intellect,
which was much superior to that of her husband. Boileau
said: "In their production of <i>esprit</i>, it is Mme. Dacier who
is the father."</p>
<p>Besides her translations of the plays of Plautus, all of
Terence, the <i>Clouds</i> and <i>Plutus</i> of Aristophanes, she published her
translation of the <i>Iliad</i> and <i>Odyssey</i>
(1711-1716), which gave her a prominent place in the history of French
literature, especially as it appeared at the time of the
"quarrels of the ancients and moderns," which concerned
the comparative merits of ancient and modern literature.</p>
<p>Mme. Dacier thoroughly appreciated the grandeur of
Homer and knew the almost insurmountable difficulties
of a translation; therefore, when in 1714 the <i>Iliad</i> appeared
in verse (in twelve songs by La Motte-Houdart),
preceded by a discourse on Homer, in which the author
announced that his aim was to purify and embellish Homer
by ridding him "of his barbarian crudeness, his uncivil
familiarities, and his great length," the ire of Mme. Dacier
was aroused, and in defence of her god she wrote her
famous <i>Des Causes de la Corruption du Goût</i> (Causes of
the Corruption of Taste), a long defence of Homer, to
which La Motte replied in his <i>Réflexions de la Critique</i>
This rekindled the whole controversy, and sides were immediately formed.</p>
<p>Mme. Dacier was not politic; although she sustained
her ideas well and displayed much erudition and depth of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page193" id="page193"></a>[pg 193]</span>
reason, she is said to have injured her cause by the violence
of her polemic. Her immoderate tone and bitter
assaults upon the elegant and discerning favorite only
detracted from his opponent's favor and grace. Voltaire
said: "You could say that the work of M. de La Motte was
that of a woman of <i>esprit</i>, while that of Mme. Dacier was of
a <i>homme savant</i>. He translated the <i>Iliad</i> very poorly, but attacked
very well." Mme. Dacier's translation remained
a standard for two centuries. She and her adversary became
reconciled at a dinner given by M. de Valincour for
the friends of both parties; upon that festive occasion,
"they drank to the health of Homer, and all was well."</p>
<p>Mme. Dacier died in 1720. "She was a <i>savante</i> only in
her study or when with savants; otherwise, she was unaffected
and agreeable in conversation, from the character
of which one would never have suspected her of knowing
more than the average woman." She was an incessant
worker and had little time for social life; in the evening,
after having worked all morning, she received visits from
the literary men of France; and, to her credit may it be
added, amid all her literary work, she never neglected her
domestic and maternal duties.</p>
<p>A woman of an entirely different type from that of
Mme. Dacier, one who fitly closes the long series of great
and brilliant women of the age of Louis XIV., who only
partly resembles them and yet does not quite take on the
faded and decadent coloring of the next age, was Mme. de
Caylus, the niece of Mme. de Maintenon. It was she
who, partly through compulsion, partly of her own free
will, undertook the rearing of the young and beautiful
Marthe-Marguerite de Villette. Mme. de Maintenon was
then at the height of her power, and naturally her beautiful,
clever, and witty niece was soon overwhelmed by
proposals of marriage from the greatest nobles of France.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page194" id="page194"></a>[pg 194]</span>
To one of these, M. de Boufflers, Mme. de Maintenon replied:
"My niece is not a sufficiently good match for you.
However, I am not insensible to the honor you pay me;
I shall not give her to you, but in the future I shall consider you my nephew."</p>
<p>She then married the innocent young girl to the Marquis
de Caylus, a debauched, worthless reprobate—a union
whose only merit lay in the fact that her niece could thus
remain near her at court. At the latter place, her beauty,
gayety, and caustic wit, her adaptable and somewhat superficial
character and her freedom of manners and speech, did
not fail to attract many admirers. Her frankness in expressing
her opinions was the source of her disgrace; Louis XIV.
took her at her word when she exclaimed, in speaking of
the court: "This place is so dull that it is like being in
exile to live here," and forbade her to appear again in the
place she found so tiresome. Those rash words cost her
an exile of thirteen years, and only through good behavior,
submission, and piety was she permitted to return.</p>
<p>She appeared at a supper given by the king, and, by the
brilliancy of her beauty and <i>esprit</i>, she attracted everyone
present and soon regained her former favor and friends.
From that time she was the constant companion of Mme.
de Maintenon, until the king's death, when she returned
to Paris; at that place her salon became an intellectual
centre, and there the traditions of the seventeenth century were perpetuated.</p>
<p>Sainte-Beuve said that Mme. de Caylus perfectly exemplified
what was called urbanity—"politeness in speech
and accent as well as in <i>esprit</i>." In her youth she was
famous for her extraordinary acting in the performance,
at Saint-Cyr, of Racine's <i>Esther</i>. Mme. de Sévigné wrote:
"It is Mme. de Caylus who makes Esther." Her brief and
witty <i>Souvenirs</i> (Memoirs), showing marvellous finesse in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page195" id="page195"></a>[pg 195]</span>
the art of portraiture, made her name immortal. M. Saint-Amand
describes her work thus:</p>
<p>"Her friends, enchanted by her lively wit, had long
entreated her to write—not for the public, but for them—the
anecdotes which she related so well. Finally, she
acquiesced, and committed to paper certain incidents, certain
portraits. What a treasure are these <i>Souvenirs</i>—so
fluently written, so unpretentious, with neither dates nor
chronological order, but upon which, for more than a century,
all historians have drawn! How much is contained
in this little book which teaches more in a few lines than
interminable works do in many volumes! How feminine
it is, and how French! One readily understands Voltaire's
liking for these charming <i>Souvenirs</i>. Who, than Mme. de
Caylus, ever better applied the famous precept: 'Go
lightly, mortals; don't bear too hard.'"</p>
<p>She belonged to that class of spontaneous writers who
produce artistic works without knowing it, just as M. Jourdain
wrote prose, and who do not even suspect that they
possess that chief attribute of literary style—naturalness.
What pure, what ready wit! What good humor, what unconstraint,
what delightful ease! What a series of charming
portraits, each more lifelike, more animated, still better
than all the others! "These little miniatures—due to the
brush of a woman of the world—are better worth studying
than is many a picture or fresco."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page197" id="page197"></a>[pg 197]</span>
<h2>Chapter VII</h2>
<h2>Woman in Religion</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page199" id="page199"></a>[pg 199]</span>
<p>The entire religious agitation of the seventeenth century
was due to women. Port-Royal was the centre from
which issued all contention—the centre where all subjects
were discussed, where the most important books were
written or inspired, where the genius of that great century
centred; and it was to Port-Royal that the greatest women
of France went, either to find repose for their souls or to
visit the noble members of their sex who had consecrated
their lives to God—Mère Angélique, Jacqueline Pascal.
Never in the history of the world had a religious sect or
party gathered within its fold such an array of great minds,
such a number of fearless and determined heroines and
<i>esprits d'élite</i>. A short account of this famous convent
must precede any story of its members.</p>
<p>The original convent, Port-Royal des Champs, near
Versailles, was founded as early as 1204, by Mathieu of
Montmorency and his wife, for the Cistercian nuns who
had the privileges of electing their abbess and of receiving
into their community ladies who, tired of the social
world, wished to retire to a religious asylum, without,
however, being bound by any religious vows. Later on,
the sisters were permitted to receive, also, young ladies of the nobility.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page200" id="page200"></a>[pg 200]</span>
<p>These privileges were used to such advantage that the
institution acquired great wealth; and through its boarders,
some of whom belonged to the most important families
of France, it became influential to an almost incalculable
degree. For four centuries this convent had been developing
liberal tendencies and gradually falling away from
its primitive austerity, when, in 1605, Sister Angélique
Arnauld became abbess and undertook a thorough reform.
So great was her success in this direction that, after having
effected similar changes at the Convent of Maubuisson
and then returned to Port-Royal des Champs, the latter
became so crowded that new and more commodious quarters had to be obtained.</p>
<p>The immense and beautiful Hôtel de Cluny, at Paris,
was procured, and a portion of the community moved
thither, establishing an institution which became the best
known and most popular of those French convents which
were patronized by women of distinction. The old abbey
buildings near Versailles were later occupied by a community
of learned and pious men who were, for the most part,
pupils of the celebrated Abbé of Saint-Cyran, who, with
Jansenius, was living at Paris at the time that Mère Angélique
was perfecting her reforms; she, attracted by the
ascetic life led by the abbé, fell under his influence, and
the whole Arnauld family, numbering about thirty, followed her example.</p>
<p>Soon "the nuns at Paris, with their numerous and
powerful connections, and the recluses at Port-Royal des
Champs, together with their pupils and the noble or
wealthy families to which the latter belonged, were imbued
with the new doctrines of which they became apostles."
The primary aim was to live up to a common ideal
of Christian perfection, and to react against the general
corruption by establishing thoroughly moral schools and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page201" id="page201"></a>[pg 201]</span>
publishing works denouncing, in strong terms, the glaring
errors of the time, the source of which was considered, by
both the Abbé of Saint-Cyran and Jansenius, to lie in the
Jesuit Colleges and their theology. Thus was evolved a
system of education in every way antagonistic to that of the Jesuits.</p>
<p>At this time the convent at Paris became so crowded
that Mère Angélique withdrew to the abbey near Versailles,
the occupants of which retired to a neighboring
farm, Les Granges; there was opened a seminary for females,
which soon attracted the daughters of the nobility.
An astounding literary and agricultural activity resulted,
both at the abode of the recluses and at the seminary: by
the recluses were written the famous Greek and Latin
grammars, and by the nuns, the famous <i>Memoirs of the
History of Port-Royal</i> and the <i>Image of the Perfect and
Imperfect Sister</i>; a model farm was cultivated, and here the
peasants were taught improved methods of tillage. During
the time of the civil wars the convent became a resort
where charity and hospitality were extended to the poor peasants.</p>
<p>"The mode of life at Port-Royal was distinguished for
austerity. The inmates rose at three o'clock in the morning,
and, after the common prayer, kissed the ground as a
sign of their self-humiliation before God. Then, kneeling,
they read a chapter from the Gospels and one from the
Epistles, concluding with another prayer. Two hours in
the morning and a like number in the afternoon were devoted
to manual labor in the gardens adjoining the convent;
they observed, with great strictness, the season of
Lent." Their theories and practices, and especially their
sympathy with Jansenius, whose work <i>Mars Gallicus</i> attacked
the French government and people, aroused the
suspicions of Richelieu. When in 1640 the Port-Royalists
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page202" id="page202"></a>[pg 202]</span>
openly and enthusiastically received the famous work,
<i>Augustinus</i>, of Jansenius, the government became the declared
opponent of the convent. Saint-Cyran had been
imprisoned in 1638, and not until after the death of Richelieu,
in 1642, was he liberated. After the appearance, in
1643, of Arnauld's <i>De la Fréquente Communion</i>, in which
he attacked the Jesuits for admitting the people to the
Lord's Supper without due preparation, two parties formed—the
Jesuits, supported by the Sorbonne and the government,
and the Port-Royalists, supported by Parliament
and illustrious persons, such as Mme. de Longueville.</p>
<p>In 1644, the nuns were dispersed by order of Louis XIV.,
against whose despotic caprices two Jansenist bishops had
fought in support of the rights of the pope. The Paris
convent remained closed until 1669, when it and the one
at Chevreuse, near Versailles were made independent of
each other, a proceeding which resulted in the two institutions
becoming opponents. In 1708 the Convent of Port-Royal
des Champs was suppressed, and, a year later, the
beautiful and once prosperous community was destroyed,
the buildings being levelled to the ground. In 1780 the
Paris convent was abolished; five years later the structure
was converted into a hospital, and in 1814 it became the
lying-in asylum of <i>La Maternité</i>.</p>
<p>In those two convents, which were practically one, was
fomented and developed the entire religious movement of
the seventeenth century, to which period belong the general
study and development of theology, metaphysics, and
morality. Such great, good, and brilliant women as the
Countess of Maure, Mlle. de Vandy, Anne de Rohan,
Mme. de Brégy, Mme. de Hautefort, Mme. de Longueville,
Mme. de Sévigné, Mme. de La Fayette, and Mme.
de Sablé were inmates of Port-Royal, or its friends and constant visitors.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page203" id="page203"></a>[pg 203]</span>
<p>Port-Royal may have been the cause of the civil war
waged by the Frondists against the government. It did
bring on the struggle between the Jesuits, who were all-powerful
in the Church, and the Jansenists. The latter
denied the doctrine of free will, and taught the absolutism
of religion, the "terrible God," the powerlessness of kings
and princes before God—a doctrine which brought down
upon them the wrath of Louis XIV., for whom their notion
of virtue was too severe, their use of the Gospel too excessive,
and their Christianity impossible.</p>
<p>In its purest form, Port-Royalism was a return to the
sanctity of the primitive church—an attempt at the use, in
French, of the whole body of Scriptures and the writings
of the Church Fathers; it aimed to maintain a vigorous
religious reaction in the shape of a reform, and that reform
was vigorously opposed by the Catholic Church.</p>
<p>One family that is associated with Port-Royal gave to
its cause no less than six sisters; the latter all belonged
to the Convent of Port-Royal and were attached to the
Jansenist party; of them, the Archbishop of Paris said that
they were "as pure as angels, but as proud as devils."
They were related to the one great Arnauld family,
of which Antoine and his three sons—Robert, Henri, and
the younger Antoine, called "the great Antoine"—were
illustrious champions of Port-Royal.</p>
<p>Marie Jacqueline Angélique, the oldest among the three
abbesses, was born in 1591, and, at the early age of fourteen,
was made abbess of Port-Royal des Champs; it was
she who, after having instituted successful reforms at Port-Royal,
was sent to reform the system of the Abbey of
Maubuisson, thus initiating the important movement which
later involved almost all France. She became convinced
that she had not been lawfully elected abbess and resigned,
securing, however, a provision which made the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page204" id="page204"></a>[pg 204]</span>
election of abbesses a triennial event. To her belongs
the honor of having made Port-Royal anew. She was a
woman capable of every sacrifice,—a wonderful type in
which were blended candor, pride, and submission,—and
she exhibited indomitable strength of will and earnest zeal for her cause.</p>
<p>Her sister, Agnes, but three years younger than Marie,
also entered the convent, and, at the age of fifteen, was
made mistress of the novices; during the absence of her
sister, at Maubuisson, she was at the head of the convent;
from that time, she governed Port-Royal alternately with
her sister, for twenty-seven years. Her work, <i>The Secret
Chapter of the Sacrament</i>, was suppressed at Rome, but
without bringing formal censure upon her.</p>
<p>The last of those great abbesses was Mère Angélique,
who lived through the most troublous and critical times of
Port-Royal (1624 to 1684). At the age of twenty she
became a nun, having been reared in the convent by her
aunt, Marie, who was the most perfect disciple of Saint-Cyran.
Mère Angélique was especially conspicuous for
her obstinacy, and when the nuns were forced to accept
the formulary of Pope Alexander VI., she, alone, was excepted,
because of that well known characteristic. Upon
the reopening of Port-Royal (in 1689), her powerful protectress,
Mme. de Longueville, died and the persecutions
were renewed; Mère Angélique endeavored to avert the
storm, but all in vain; amidst her efforts, she collapsed.
She was also a writer, her <i>Memoirs of the History of Port
Royal</i> being the most valuable history of that institution.</p>
<p>Thus, about those three women is formed the religious
movement which involved both the development of religious
liberty, free will, and morality, and of the philosophical
literature of the century—a century which boasts such
writers and theologians as Nicole, Pascal, Racine, etc.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page205" id="page205"></a>[pg 205]</span>
<p>The mission of Port-Royal seems to have been preparation
of souls for the struggles of life, teaching how to
resist oppression or to bear it with courage, and how, for
a righteous cause, to brave everything, not only the persecutions
of power—violence, prison, exile,—but the ruses
of hypocrisy and the calumny of opposing opinion. The
Port-Royalist nun combated and taught how to combat;
she lacked humility, but possessed an abundance of courage
which often bordered upon passion.</p>
<p>One of the most pathetic and striking illustrations of
the fervent devotion which was a characteristic product
of Port-Royal, is supplied by Jacqueline Pascal, sister of
the great Blaise Pascal. Young, <i>spirituelle</i>, very much
sought after and the idol of brilliant companions, at the
age of twenty-six she abandoned the world to devote herself
to God. At thirty-six years of age she died of sorrow
and remorse for having signed an equivocal formulary
of Pope Alexander VI., "through pure deference to the
authority of her superiors." The papal decision concerning
Jansenius's book, already mentioned, was drawn up
in a formula "turned with some skill, and in such a way
that subscription did not bind the conscience; however, the
nuns of Port-Royal refused to sign." Jacqueline Pascal wrote:</p>
<p>"That which hinders us, what hinders all the ecclesiastics
who recognize the truth from replying when the
formulary is presented to them to subscribe is: I know
the respect I owe the bishops, but my conscience does not
permit me to subscribe that a thing is in a book in which
I have not seen it—and after that, wait for what will
happen. What have we to fear? Banishment and dispersion
for the nuns, seizure of temporalities, imprisonment,
and death if you will; but is not that our glory and
should it not be our joy? Let us either renounce the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page206" id="page206"></a>[pg 206]</span>
Gospel or faithfully follow the maxims of that Gospel and
deem ourselves happy to suffer somewhat for righteousness'
sake. I know that it is not for daughters to defend
the truth, though, unfortunately, one might say that since
the bishops have the courage of daughters, the daughters
must have the courage of bishops; but, if it is not for us
to defend the truth, it is for us to die for the truth and to
suffer everything rather than abandon it."</p>
<p>She subscribed, "divided between her instinctive repugnance
and her desire to show herself an humble daughter
of the Catholic Church." She said: "It is all we can
concede; for the rest, come what may,—poverty, dispersion,
imprisonment, death,—all those seem to me nothing
in comparison with the anguish in which I should pass the
remainder of my life, if I had been wretch enough to make
a covenant with death on the occasion of so excellent an
opportunity for proving to God the sincerity of the vows
of fidelity which our lips have pronounced." According
to Mme. Périer, the health of the writer of the above
epistle was so undermined by the shock which all that
commotion had caused her, that she became dangerously
ill, dying soon after. Thus was sacrificed the first victim of the formulary.</p>
<p>Cousin says that few women of the seventeenth century
were as brilliantly endowed as Jacqueline Pascal; possessing
the finesse, energy, and sobriety of her brother, she
was capable of the most serious work, and yet knew perfectly
how to lead in a social circle. Also, she was most
happily gifted with a talent for poetry, in relation to which
her reputation was everywhere recognized; at the convent,
she consulted her superiors as to the advisability of
continuing her verse making; and upon being told that
such occupation was not a means of winning the grace of
Jesus Christ, she abandoned it.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page207" id="page207"></a>[pg 207]</span>
<p>Cousin maintained that the avowed principle of the
Port-Royalists was the withdrawal from all worldly pleasure
and attachment. "'Marriage is a homicide; absolute
renunciation is the true régime of a Christian.' Jacqueline
Pascal is an exaggeration of Port-Royal, and Port-Royal is
an exaggeration of the religious spirit of the seventeenth
century. Man is too little considered; all movement of
the physical world comes from God; all our acts and
thoughts, except those of crime and error, come from and
belong to Him. Nothing is our own; there is no free will;
will and reason have no power. The theory of grace is
the source of all truth, virtue, and merit—and for this
doctrine Jacqueline Pascal gives up her life."</p>
<p>Among the great spirits of Port-Royal, the women especially
were strong in their convictions and high in their
ideals. They naturally followed the ideas of man and
naturally fell into religious errors; but their firmness, constancy,
and heroism were striking indeed. Their aspiration
was the imitation of Christ, and they approached
their model as near as ever was done by man. In an age
of courtesans, when convictions were subservient to the
pleasure of power, they set a worthy example of strength
of mind, firmness of will, purity, and womanliness. M. du Bled says:</p>
<p>"Port-Royal was the enterprise of the middle-class aristocracy
of France; you can see here an anticipated attempt
of a sort of superior third estate to govern for itself in the
Church and to establish a religion not Roman, not aristocratic
and of the court, not devout in the manner of the
simple people, but freer from vain images and ceremonies,
and freer, also, as to the temporal in the face of worldly
authority—a sober, austere, independent religion which
would have truly founded a Gallican reform. The illusion
was in thinking that they could continue to exist in Rome—that
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page208" id="page208"></a>[pg 208]</span>
Richelieu and Louis XIV. would tolerate the boldness of this attempt."</p>
<p>A celebrated woman of the seventeenth century, one
who really belongs to the circle of Mme. de Longueville
and Mme. de La Fayette, but who early in life, like Mme.
de Longueville, devoted herself to religion and retired to
live at Port-Royal, and is therefore more intimately associated
with the religious movement, was Mme. de Sablé, a
type of the social-religious woman.</p>
<p>Mme. de Sablé is a heroine of Cousin, whom we closely
follow in this account of her career. According to that
writer, she is a type of the purely social woman, a woman
who did less for herself than for others, in aiding whom
she took delight, a woman who was the inspiration of
many writers and many works.</p>
<p>Mlle. de Souvré married the wealthy Marquis of Sablé,
of the house of Montmorency, of whom little is known.
He soon abandoned her; and she, most unhappy over
unworthy rivals, fell very ill, retired from society for
a time, and then reappeared; her career as a society
woman then began. At an early age, by force of her
decided taste for the high form of Spanish gallantry,
then so much in vogue, and her inclination to all things
intellectual, she became one of the leaders of the Hôtel de
Rambouillet. She, Mmes. de Sévigné, de Longueville,
and de La Fayette formed that circle of women who idealized friendship.</p>
<p>Within a few years she lost her father, husband, two of
her brothers, and her second son; and after putting her
financial affairs into order, she and her friend, the Countess
of Maure, took up their quarters at the famous Place
Royale; there they decided to devote their lives to letters,
and there assembled their friends, men and women, regardless
of rank or party, personal merit being the only
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page209" id="page209"></a>[pg 209]</span>
means of access. Mmes. de Sablé and de Rambouillet
were called the arbiters of elegance and good taste.</p>
<p>To her friends, Mme. de Sablé was always accommodating
and showed no partiality; well informed, she was
constantly approached for counsel and favors; discreet and
trustworthy, the most important secrets were intrusted to
her—a confidence which she never betrayed. During the
Fronde she remained faithful to the queen and Mazarin,
but did not become estranged from her friends, so many
of whom were Frondists, and who chose her as their
counsellor, arbitrator, and pacifier.</p>
<p>About 1655 she began to realize her unsettled position
in the world and to long for a place where she might,
modestly and becomingly, spend her declining years. She
was then fifty-five years of age. The ideas of Jansenism
had so impressed the great people of the day, that she decided
to retire to Port-Royal, to end her days with sympathizers
of the spiritual life around her and her former
friends whenever she desired them. There she gathered
about her the most exclusive and aristocratic people of the
day: La Rochefoucauld, the Prince and Princess of Conti,
Condé, Monsieur,—brother of Louis XIV.,—Mme. de La
Fayette, Mme. de Hautefort, and others.</p>
<p>At her apartments, not only were religious and literary
affairs discussed, but the most delicate and delicious dishes
were prepared and elixirs and remedies for disease compounded.
Famous people were led to seek her, through
her reputation and influence, and through friendship, for
she seldom left her house. Mme. de Sablé possessed all
the qualities that attract and hold, nothing extraordinary
or rare, but abundant politeness and elegance.</p>
<p>It was not long before she began to withdraw from even
her friends, still continuing, however, her fine cuisine, the
remarkable care of her health, and her medical experiments.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page210" id="page210"></a>[pg 210]</span>
Her dinners became celebrated, and invitations to them were
much in demand; about them there were no signs of opulence,
but her gatherings were distinguished for refinement
and taste. Her friends were constantly asking her
for her recipes, of the preparation of which no one but herself knew the secret.</p>
<p>At the salon of Mme. de Sablé originated many famous
literary works, such as the <i>Conférences sur le Calvinisme</i>,
works on Cartesian philosophy, the <i>Logique de Port-Royal</i>,
<i>Questions sur l'Amour</i>, <i>Les Maximes</i>, etc. She will be
remembered as the initiator of many maxims, in the composition
of which she excelled. A number of her sayings
concerning friendship have been preserved. Two treatises,
in the form of maxims, on the education of children and on
friendship, respectively, are supposed to have come from
her pen; from them La Rochefoucauld conceived the ideas
he utilized in his famous <i>Maxims</i>.</p>
<p>La Rochefoucauld's maxims were composed according
to the chance of conversation, which gave rise to various
subjects and led to his serious reflection upon them.
Cousin even goes so far as to say that the <i>Pensées</i> of
Pascal would never have been published in that form had
not the <i>Maxims</i> enjoyed such favor. Pascal often visited
Port-Royal and naturally followed the general reflective
tendency of its society. His <i>Discours sur les Passions de
l'Amour</i> possibly originated at the salon of Mme. de Sablé,
because the subject of which that work treated was one
much discussed there. La Rochefoucauld was in the habit
of sending his maxims to Mme. de Sablé with the message:
"As you do nothing for nothing, I ask of you a carrot soup or mutton stew."</p>
<p>When La Rochefoucauld entered the society of Mme.
de Sablé, he had seen much of life, was familiar with
most of the adventures and intrigues of the Fronde and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page211" id="page211"></a>[pg 211]</span>
the society of the time; he himself had acted his part in
all, and at the age of fifty was ready to put his experience
into a permanent form of reflection. His <i>Maxims</i> created
a stir, through the clearness and elegance of their character,
their fine analyses of man as he was in the seventeenth
century, and through their truthfulness and general
applicability to men of every country. From all the illustrious
women of the day, either he or Mme. de Sablé
received letters of criticism or suggestion—eulogies and
condemnations of which he took notice in his next edition.
This shows the intense interest felt in the appearance of
any new literary production.</p>
<p>Cousin says that the whole literature of maxims and
reflections issued directly from the salon of a kind and good
woman who had retired to a convent with no other desire
than to live over her life, to recall her past and what she
had seen and felt therein; and upon her society, that
woman impressed her own tastes, elegance, and seriousness.
Her great act of benevolence was her protection of
Port-Royal. When, after the death in 1661 of Mother
Angélique Arnauld, that institution became the object of
persecution and its tenants were either imprisoned or compelled
to seek refuge in the various families of Paris, Mme.
de Sablé remained faithful to its principles; she lived with
her friends, Mme. de Longueville and Mme. de Montausier,
until 1669, when, with the coöperation of Mme. de Longueville,
who exerted all her influence for Port-Royal, she
finally succeeded in bringing about its reopening. At least,
Cousin ascribes this result to Mme. de Sablé, but he may
have somewhat exaggerated her influence in this respect.
From her retreat at Port-Royal, she kept up a constant
correspondence with her friends all over France; she lived
there until 1678, with but one intimate friend, Mme. de Longueville.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page212" id="page212"></a>[pg 212]</span>
<p>Mme. de Sablé had remarkable gifts; her mission in
politics, religion, and literature seems to have been to
excite to action, to stimulate and to bring out to its fullest
value, the talents and genius of others. In her modest
salon, she inspired the great and illustrious work which
will keep her memory alive as long as the <i>Maxims</i> and
<i>Pensées</i> are read. Her name will be connected with that
of Mme. de Longueville, because of their ideal friendship,
and with that of Port-Royal because of her ardent and
self-sacrificing support of it in the time of its direst persecution,
when any exhibition of sympathy was dangerous
in the extreme; and finally, her name will always be connected
with that small circle of French society of the seventeenth
century, which was noble, moral, and elevating to an unusual degree.</p>
<p>Somewhat later in the century a different movement
was started by a woman, which involved many of the
highest in rank at court. This took the form of a kind of
mystical enthusiasm, running into a theory of pure love,
and was instigated by Mme. Guyon, a widow, still young,
and gifted with a lofty and subtile mind. After losing her
husband, whom she had converted to her religious views,
she went, in 1680, to Paris to educate her children. Becoming
interested in religion, she went to Geneva, where
she became very intimate with a priest who was her spiritual
director, and whom she soon wholly subjected to her
influence. On account of their views on sanctification,
they were ordered to leave.</p>
<p>After travelling over Europe for a number of years, and
writing several works, including <i>Spiritual Torrents</i> and
<i>Short and Easy Method of Making Orison with the Heart</i>,
the widow returned to Paris, with the intention of living
in retirement; but so many persons of all ranks sought her
out, that she organized, for ladies of rank, meetings for
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page213" id="page213"></a>[pg 213]</span>
purposes of prayer and religious conversation. The Duchess
of Beauvilliers, the Duchess of Béthune, the Countess
of Guiche, the Countess of Chevreuse, and many others,
with their husbands, became her devoted adherents.</p>
<p>According to Mme. Guyon, prayer should lose the character
of supplication, and become simply the silence of a
soul absorbed in God. "Why are not simple folks so
taught? Shepherds, keeping their flocks, would have the
spirit of the old anchorites; and laborers, whilst driving
the plow, would talk happily with God. In a little while,
vice would be banished and the kingdom of God would be
realized on earth." Thus, her doctrine was directly opposite
to the theories of the Jansenists.</p>
<p>At that time, 1687 to 1688, all religious movements,
however quiet, were condemned at Rome; and the teachings
of Mme. Guyon were found to differ very little from
those of the Spanish priest Molinas. The first arrest, that
of her friend Lacombe, was soon followed by that of Mme.
Guyon herself, by royal order; she was released through
the intercession of Mme. de Maintenon, who was fascinated
by her to the extent of permitting her to teach her doctrines
at Saint-Cyr, Upon the appearance of her <i>Method of
Prayer</i>, an examination was instituted by Bossuet and
Fénelon, who marked out a few passages as erroneous—a
procedure to which she submitted. However, Bossuet
himself wrote a treatise against her <i>Method of Prayer</i>, in
which he cast reflections upon her character and conduct;
to that work Fénelon refused to subscribe, which antagonistic
proceeding brought on the great quarrel between
those two absolute ecclesiasts. In fact, Fénelon became
imbued with the doctrines of Mme. Guyon.</p>
<p>She was imprisoned at various times; and when a letter
was received from Lacombe, who had been imprisoned at
Vincennes for a long time, exhorting her to repent of their
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page214" id="page214"></a>[pg 214]</span>
criminal intimacy, Mme. Guyon's cause was hopeless.
She was sent to the Bastille, her son was dismissed from
the army, and many of her friends were banished. In
1702 she was released from prison and banished to Diziers;
she passed the remainder of her life in complete retirement at Blois.</p>
<p>Fénelon had written a treatise, <i>Maxims of the Saints</i>,
which was said to favor Mme. Guyon's doctrines, and
which was sent to Rome for examination. He defined her
doctrine of divine love in the following maxim, which was condemned at Rome:</p>
<p>"There is an habitual state of love of God, which is
pure charity without any taint of the motive of self-interest.
Neither fear of punishment nor desire of reward
has, any longer, part in this love; God is loved, not for the
merit, but for the happiness to be found in loving Him."</p>
<p>Such a doctrine made repentance unnecessary, destroyed
all effort to withstand evil, and did not acknowledge the
need of a Redeemer. This the great Bossuet foresaw;
consequently, he, as the supreme religious potentate of
his inferior in rank, Fénelon, demanded the condemnation
by the latter of the works of Mme. Guyon. The refusal
cost Fénelon exile for life. To Mme. de Maintenon he
wrote a letter which shows the sincerity of his devotion to
a friend in disgrace, even though his own reputation was thereby endangered:</p>
<p>"So it is to secure my own reputation that I am wanted
to subscribe that a lady—my friend—would plainly deserve
to be burned, with all her writings, for an execrable
form of spirituality which is the only bond of our friendship.
I tell you, madame, I would burn my friend with
my own hands, and I would burn myself joyfully, rather
than let the Church be imperilled; but here is a poor,
captive woman, overwhelmed with sorrows; there is none
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page215" id="page215"></a>[pg 215]</span>
to defend her, none to excuse her; all are afraid to do so.
I maintain that this stroke of the pen, given from a cowardly
policy and against my conscience, would render me
forever infamous and unworthy of my ministry and my position."</p>
<p>Thus, in the seventeenth century, religious agitations
and religious reform were the work preëminently of
women; but that reform and those agitations were productive
of good results to a far greater degree than was
any similar movement in any other century, with the
possible exception of the nineteenth. The seventeenth
century was, as mentioned before, a century of stability,
one that toned down and crushed all violations and abuses
of the standard established by authority. Woman, in her
constant striving for the complete emancipation and gradual
purification of her sex, rebelled against the power of
established authority; she did not consciously or intentionally
violate law and order, but in her intense desire to act
for good as she saw it, and in her noble efforts to ameliorate
all undesirable conditions, she created commotion and
confusion. The seventeenth-century woman is conspicuous
as a champion of religion, moral purity, and social
reform; therefore, her influence was mainly social, religious,
moral, and literary, while that of the woman of
the sixteenth century was mainly political. This difference
was the result of the greater advantages of education
and training enjoyed by the females of the later period.</p>
<p>In the beginning of the seventeenth century, young girls
were granted greater privileges and received more attention
from men and society than did their predecessors;
they thus had more opportunities for mental development,
more occasion to become aware of the temptations and injustices
of life, without falling prey to them. Such young
girls as Julie d'Angennes, Mlle. d'Arquenay, and Mlle. de
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page216" id="page216"></a>[pg 216]</span>
Pisani, took part in the balls, fêtes, garden parties, and all
amusements in which society indulged. They met young
men of their own age and became intimately acquainted
with them, morals were purer, marriages of affection were
much more frequent, and the state of married life was much
more congenial, than in any other century. Young men
paid court to the older ladies, to refine their manners and
sharpen their intellects, but not for any immoral purpose.
To a certain extent women were more world-wise when
they reached the marriageable age, and inspired respect
and admiration rather than passion and desire as in the next century.</p>
<p>Young girls of the seventeenth century were early placed
in a convent, and when they left it they were ready for
marriage; in the meantime, they frequently visited home
and associated with their parents and brothers; at the convents
intellectual intercourse with people of high rank and
men of letters was encouraged. Yet the discipline at those
institutions was very rigid, the boarders being more carefully
watched then than later on; two nuns always accompanied
them on their walks, and when not busy with their
studies, to prevent the mind from wandering, they were
kept busy with their hands; "the transports of the soul
of the young girl, as every reflection of the intelligence,
are watched and held in check, every one of her inclinations
opposed, all originality suppressed."</p>
<p>At first the convents were reproached for stifling all culture
and development and applying only correction and
mortification of the flesh. Mme. de Maintenon opposed
such a state of affairs, but her methods discouraged true
independence. The happiness of her charges was her one
aim, but they had no voice in the matter. When of marriageable
age, they were given a trousseau and a husband;
however, they were taught to be reasonable.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page217" id="page217"></a>[pg 217]</span>
<p>In that century, the young girl, mixing more generally
in society, received greater consideration—hence, she became
more active and conspicuous. It will be seen that
the rôle played by the eighteenth century woman was not
so much played by the young woman as it was by the
woman of mature years, of the mother, the counsellor—the
indispensable element of society. There were three
classes of women—young women, mature women who
sought consideration, and old women who received respect
and deference, and who, as arbiters of culture, upheld the
principles already established.</p>
<p>A young man making his début had to find favor with
one of those classes which decided his future reputation
and the extent of his favor at court, and assigned him his
place and grade, upon which depended his marriage. All
education was directed to the one end—social success.
The duty of the tutor charged with the instruction of a
young son was to give a well-rounded, general education;
by the mother, he was taught politeness, grace, amiability—a
part of his training to which more importance was
attached than to the intellectual portion. Whenever a
young man was guilty of misconduct toward a woman, his
mother was notified of the occurrence, on the same evening,
and he promptly received his reprimand. This spirit
naturally fostered that rare politeness, exquisite taste
and tact in conversation, in which the eighteenth century excels.</p>
<p>But where did the young girls receive the education
which gave them such prestige—that consummate art of
conversation exemplified in Mme. de Boufflers, Mme. de
Luxembourg, Mme. de Sabran, the Duchess of Choiseul,
the Princess of Beauvau, the Countess of Ségur? The
sons were educated in the usages of the <i>bonne compagnie</i>
by the mothers, but the daughters did not enjoy that
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page218" id="page218"></a>[pg 218]</span>
attention, for, at the age of five or six years, they were
sent to the convent; there the mother's influence could
not have reached them, and they never left the convent
except to marry. The middle class imitated the higher
class, and family life became practically impossible. All
men of any importance had a charge at court or a grade in
the army, and lived away from their families. A large
number of women were attached to the queen, spending
the greater part of their time at Versailles; the little time
passed at their homes was entirely occupied in preparation
for the evening <i>causeries</i> at the salons, in reading new
books, acquiring information upon current events, and in
superintending the making of the many necessary and
always elaborate gowns; as M. Perey so well says, "as
the toilettes and hairdressing took up the greater part of the
morning, they devoted the time used by the <i>coiffeur</i>, in
constructing complicated edifices that crushed down the
heads of women, to the reading of new books."</p>
<p>Nearly every large establishment kept open house, dining
from twenty to thirty persons every day. They dined at
one, separated at three, were at the theatre at five, and
returned with as many friends as possible—the more,
the greater the reputation for hospitality and popularity.
Under such circumstances, the mother had no time for the
daughters, nor were the conversations at those dinners
food for young, innocent girls—and innocence was the
first requirement of a marriageable young woman.</p>
<p>The great convents were the Abbaye-aux-Bois and
Penthemont, where the daughters of the wealthiest and
highest families were educated. In those convents or
seminaries, strange to say, the young girls were taught
the most practical domestic duties, as well as dancing,
music, painting, etc. Such teachers as Molé and Larrive
gave instruction in declamation and reading, and Noverre
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page219" id="page219"></a>[pg 219]</span>
and Dauberval in dancing; the teaching nuns were all from
the best families. The most complete costumes, scenic
decorations, and other equipments of a complete theatre
were supplied, special hours being set aside for the play.
However, much intriguing went on there, and many
friendships and lifelong enmities were formed, which later
led to serious troubles.</p>
<p>Often, from the midst of a group of young girls of from
ten to fifteen years of age, one would be notified of her
coming marriage with a man she had never seen, and
whom, in all probability, she could not love, having given
her heart to another. If it turned out to be an uncongenial
marriage, a separate life would be the result, and, while
still absolutely ignorant of the world, those young married
women would fall prey to the charms of young gallants or
men of quality, and a liaison would follow.</p>
<p>The difference between a liaison of the seventeenth
century and one of the eighteenth led to one essential difference
in the standards of social and moral etiquette; in the
former period, a liaison meant nothing more censurable than
an intimate friendship, a purely platonic love; the lover
simply paid homage to the lady of his choice; it was an attraction
of common intellectual interests and usually lasted
for life; in the eighteenth century, a liaison was essentially
immoral, rarely a union of interests, but rather one of
passions and physical propensities. Such relations developed
and fostered deceit, intrigues, infidelity, and rivalry,
one woman endeavoring to allure the lover of another;
affairs of that nature were the chief topic of conversation
in social circles, and were soon reflected in every phase of
the intelligent world. This will be seen in the study of the eighteenth century.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page221" id="page221"></a>[pg 221]</span>
<h2>Chapter VIII</h2>
<h2>Salon Leaders<br />
Mme. de Tencin, Mme. Geoffrin, Mme. du Deffand, Mlle. de Lespinasse,
Mme. du Châtelet</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page223" id="page223"></a>[pg 223]</span>
<p>In studying the vast numbers of salons of the eighteenth
century, three types are discernible, each of which was
prominent and in full sway throughout the century up to
the Revolution. To the first class belong the great literary
and philosophical salons which, though not political in
nature, finally changed politics; such were the circles of
Mme. de Tencin, Mme. Geoffrin, Mme. du Deffand, Mlle.
de Lespinasse, Mme. Necker, Mme. d'Epinay, Mme. de
Genlis; with these every literary student is familiar.
The second class includes the smaller and less important
literary, philosophical, and social salons—those of Mme.
de Marchais, Mme. de Persan, Mme. de Villars, Mme. de
Vaines, and of D'Alembert, D'Holbach, Helvétius. The
third class is of a social nature exclusively, good breeding
and good tone being the essentials; its conspicuous features
were the dinners and suppers of Suard, Saurin, the Abbés
Raynal and Morellet, of the Palais-Royal of Mme. de Blot,
of the Temple of the Prince of Conti, those of Mme. de
Beauvau, Mme. de Gramont, M. de La Popeliniére, and others.</p>
<p>The distinctions thus made will not hold throughout,
but they facilitate the presentation of a subject that is
exceedingly complicated. It may almost be said that
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page224" id="page224"></a>[pg 224]</span>
each generation of the eighteenth century had a salon
with a different physiognomy; those of 1710, 1730, 1760,
and 1780 were all inspired by different motives, causes,
and events, and were all led by women of different histories
and aspirations, whose common idol was man, but
whose ideas of what constituted a hero were as widely
different as was the constitution of society in the respective
periods. Not until the middle of the reign of
Louis XIV. did social life become detached from Versailles,
and, spreading out and circulating in a thousand hôtels,
showed itself in all its force, splendor, and elegance. The
celebrated women of the regency—Mme. de Prie, Mme. de
Parabère, Mme. de Sabran—had no salon, while those of
the Marquis d'Alluys and the Hôtels de Sully, de Duras,
de Villars, and the suppers of Mme. de Chauvelin were of
a distinctly different type from those of the earlier and the later periods.</p>
<p>In a certain sense, the salons changed the complexion of
the age. The eighteenth century itself was friendly and
generous; it was, also, impatient and inexperienced, seeing
things not as they were but as it wished them to be, compelling
science and art to serve its purpose. It was frank,
often brutally frank, a characteristic due partly to the
conversational license of the salons. With its Fontenelle,
Voltaire, Piron, etc., it was indeed a happy century. A
<i>bon mot</i> was the event of the day and travelled over all
the civilized world.</p>
<p>Feeling keenly the need of a guiding principle, the need
of a more substantial foundation in education, the women
of the century thought and wrote much on that subject;
such was, for the most part, the work of the great salons,
but in them the philosophical tenets of the age were also
discussed. The spirit of criticism thus created and cultivated,
which finally spread through all classes of society,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page225" id="page225"></a>[pg 225]</span>
gradually conquered the new power in the state—public
opinion which, at the end of the century, ruled supreme
in all its strength and vehemence, defying every effort of
the government to stifle it. The highest form of agreeable
and intellectual society which the world has ever
seen attained to its most complete development in these salons.</p>
<p>Every century has had its specialty: the twelfth had its
crusades, the sixteenth its religious struggles, the seventeenth
its grand <i>goût</i>, the eighteenth its conversation and
love of reason, the nineteenth its political struggles; and
each one displayed the French passion for <i>esprit</i>; the
eighteenth, however, was, <i>par excellence</i>, the century of
<i>esprit</i>, and it was most remarkably developed in woman.</p>
<p>"Such astonishingly loquacious people as lived in Paris
in the eighteenth century! ineffective, sardonic, verbose,
sociable, intellectual, elegant, immoral—grand gentlemen
and ladies, with tears for mimic woes and none for actual
ones, praise for wit, rewards for cleverness, and absolute
ignorance of the destinies they were preparing for themselves;"
such is the story of women and society of the
eighteenth century. Among these women the salon leaders
will be found the most attractive, and the most influential
in literature, theory of government, and social and
moral development; to the mistresses belongs the title of "politicians."</p>
<p><i>La Ménagerie de Mme. de Tencin</i> was one of the earliest
of the eighteenth-century salons, although, in the strict
sense of the word, Mme. de Tencin's salon was of a
political rather than a literary nature. Successively nun,
mistress, mother, she was one of the shrewdest women
of the century. Born in 1681, she early became a nun;
but such was the character of her life at the convent that
it was not long before she became a mother. In 1714
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page226" id="page226"></a>[pg 226]</span>
she abandoned her conventual life and went to Paris,
where she rose to influence as the mistress of Cardinal
Dubois and of the regent, the Duke of Orléans. At
Paris her real activity began; she arrived at that gay
capital with no other collateral than a pretty face and an
extraordinary cunning, which soon brought her a fortune.
Fertile in resources of all kinds, she succeeded immediately,
and gained for her nephew the cardinal's hat. In
1717 was born to her the afterward famous d'Alembert,
whom she left upon the steps of the church Saint-Jean-le-Rond;
afterward, when he had become eminent and her
power was waning, she unsuccessfully used every means
at her command to gain his favor and recognition; the
father of that child was the Chevalier Destouches.</p>
<p>About 1726, when lovers were numerous and friends
plentiful, the death of Lafresnaye occurred at her salon.
In his testament he stated that his death was caused by
Mme. de Tencin; however, she was too shrewd, cunning,
and careful to be guilty of permitting any weak points to
appear in her plots, and it was not difficult for her to clear
herself of that charge by the verdict of the judges, who
considered the accusation a posthumous vengeance.</p>
<p>The great literary men whom Mme. de Tencin gathered
about her, Fontenelle, Montesquieu, Mairan, Marivaux,
Helvétius, Marmontel, were called her menagerie, or her
<i>bêtes</i>. Among them, Marivaux received a pension of one
thousand écus from her, besides drawing at will upon
the exchequer of an old maid by the name of Saint-Jean.
Marmontel, desirous of writing tragedies, took lessons
from the famous Mlle. Clairon—at his friend's expense.
To give a correct idea of the character of woman's influence
upon the literary style of that century, the words
of Marmontel may be quoted: "He who wishes to write
with precision, energy, and vigor, may live with man only;
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page227" id="page227"></a>[pg 227]</span>
but he who in his style wishes to have subtleness, amenity,
charm, flexibility, will do well, I think, to live with woman."</p>
<p>Mme. de Tencin exerted an immense influence upon the
men of her circle, especially socially; for example, she
married the wealthy M. de La Popelinière to Mlle. Dancourt.
She was one of the few really consummate diplomats;
later on, she became less associated with intrigues,
and gave lessons in current diplomacy, with which she
was perfectly familiar. Her counsel to her pupils was to
gain friends among women rather than among men.
"For," she would say, "we do whatever we wish with
men; they are so dissipated, or so preoccupied with their
personal interests, that to give attention to them would be
to neglect your own interests."</p>
<p>Every New Year's Day the <i>bêtes</i> of her menagerie received
two yards of velvet, to make knickerbockers to be
worn at her receptions; this custom was observed up to
the last year of the existence of her salon. Her receptions
were among the first of the kind in France. Like the
majority of salon leaders, she was an authoress of no
mean ability. Her novels were widely read at the time—<i>Le
Siège de Calais</i> and <i>Les Malheurs de l'Amour</i>. Her
memoirs, throwing light upon the intrigues and plots, social
animosities, and general state of the society of the time,
are historically valuable. She died in Paris, in 1749.</p>
<p>Among all the great salons, that of Mme. de Tencin was
the only one in which gambling was indulged in on a
wholesale scale; fortunes changed hands every evening,
a large part of the gains always falling to the lot of the
hostess, as a sort of "rake off." She herself was a professional
at the business, and by receiving private information
from headquarters, through her famous friend Law,
the <i>contrôleur-général</i>, and her lover Dubois, she was able
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page228" id="page228"></a>[pg 228]</span>
to acquire an immense fortune which she distributed freely
among her friends and favorites. Her place among the
literary salon leaders depends mainly upon her endeavors
to advance the interests of the aspiring young authors who
were willing to place themselves under her protection.</p>
<p>After the death of Mme. de Tencin and that of Mme. de
Châtelet, who had received many of the celebrities of the
time, there remained but two distinguished, purely literary
and philosophical salons open in Paris. By right of
precedence, the <i>bêtes</i> should have gone over to the salon
of Mme. du Deffand, as she had been established some
years when Mme. Geoffrin began to receive at her residence,
which gained its first renown through the exquisite
dinners served there. But the <i>bêtes</i> all flocked to the
<i>salon bourgeois</i>, and consequently a more brilliant gathering
never assembled in a salon; here sat, enjoying the
liberal hospitalities, Fontenelle, Montesquieu, Mairan, Marmontel,
Helvétius, Diderot, D'Alembert, Thomas, D'Holbach,
Hume, Morellet, Mlle. de Lespinasse, the Marquis
de Duras, Comtesses d'Egmont and de Brionne. Here,
conversation—which, in the eighteenth century, was not
only a discussion or a dissertation, but an art—reached its
highest development; the members did not need to be eloquent,
to expatiate upon some theory or science; the conversation
moved about the members, and they had to be a part of it.</p>
<p>Mme. Geoffrin was born in Paris in 1699, and was the
daughter of M. Rodet, <i>valet de chambre</i> of the dauphiness,
Duchesse de Bourgogne, mother of Louis XV. When
barely fifteen she was married to the wealthy M. Geoffrin,
the so-called founder of the celebrated <i>Manufacture des
Glaces de Gobelins</i>. Through his wealth and his associations
with people of nobility who bought his ware, she was
soon encouraged in her desire to entertain the nobility; and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page229" id="page229"></a>[pg 229]</span>
her <i>esprit</i>, tact, intelligence, and admirable taste in dress
were all effective in bringing about the desired results.</p>
<p>Her career was one of continual successes. When she
opened her salon, in 1741, she instituted the custom of receiving
her friends at table, not only men of letters, but
artists, architects, builders, painters, sculptors, all men of
genius and prominence. Monday was the day reserved
for artists exclusively; Marmontel, who lived with Mme.
Geoffrin for ten years "as her tenant," and the indispensable
Abbé Morellet were the exceptions who might be
present upon that day. From the very beginning she
formed the habit of permitting conversation to go just so
far, then cutting it off with her famous: <i>Voil qui est bien!</i></p>
<p>Her husband was the <i>maître d'hôtel</i>, of whom many
interesting anecdotes are told; the best and one that illustrates
well the appreciation of individuals in those days is
the following, which is so admirably told by Lady Jackson
that we quote from her: "For some years, there sat at
the bottom of Mme. Geoffrin's dinner and supper table
a dignified-looking, white-haired old gentleman, bland in
manner, but very modest and retiring, speaking only when
spoken to, but looking very happy when the guests seemed
to enjoy the good cheer set before them. When, at last,
his customary place became vacant, and some brilliant
butterfly of madame's circle of <i>visiteurs flottants</i>, who,
perhaps, had smiled patronizingly upon the silent old gentleman,
becoming aware of his absence, would, perchance,
carelessly inquire what had become of her constant dinner
guest, madame would reply: <i>Mais, c'était mon mari. Hélas!
il est mort, le bon homme.</i> [Why, that was my husband!
alas, he is dead, poor man!] Just so little was the consideration
shown this worthy creature in his own house!
Yet it both pleased and amused him to sit there silently
and gaze at the throng of rank, fashion, and learning,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page230" id="page230"></a>[pg 230]</span>
assembled in his wife's salon, and to witness her social success."</p>
<p>After the death of Mme. Geoffrin's husband, the immense
fortune passed under her own management, whereupon
began her real career as a social arbitress, during
which she is said to have tempered both opinions and characters.
Thomas said of her that "she was, in morals, like
that divinity of the ancients which maintained or reëstablished
limits." She was a great patroness of arts and her
rooms were decorated with pictures by Vanloo, Greuze,
Vernet, Robert, etc. She and her salon became, in time,
the acknowledged judge and dictator of matters literary
and artistic. Whenever a financier wished to purchase a
certain work of art, it was taken to her Monday dinner,
where the artists determined its artistic value and fixed the
price. Her house was a real museum; there the precious
Mariette collection was on permanent exhibition.</p>
<p>Besides her Monday dinners to artists and her Wednesday
dinners to the literary world, she gave private luncheons
to a select few who were especially congenial. At
those functions, such celebrities as the Comtesses d'Egmont
and de Brionne, the Marquise de Duras, and the
Prince de Rohan were frequent guests.</p>
<p>Mme. Geoffrin was shrewd and tactful enough to avoid
politics and not to permit discussions of a political nature
at her salon—precautions which she observed to keep the
government from interfering with her fortune and mode of
living. Her salon and dinners became so famous that every
foreigner going to Paris had the ambition to be received at
Mme. Geoffrin's; when any aspirant was successful in
this, she would say to her friends: <i>Soyons aimables</i> [Let us
be kind]. She spent freely of her immense fortune constantly
seeking and aiding the poor. Persons who refused
to accept her charity found little favor with her; Rousseau
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page231" id="page231"></a>[pg 231]</span>
was one of these. It was her habit to go frequently to
see friends, merely to ascertain their wants and to satisfy
them. The Abbé Morellet, Thomas, D'Alembert, and
Mlle. de Lespinasse (the only lady admitted to her Wednesdays)
were given liberal pensions. Upon each New Year's
Day, in commemoration of Mme. de Tencin, she sent each
Wednesday guest a velvet cap. Her motto was: <i>Donner
et pardonner</i> [Give and forgive].</p>
<p>Stanislas, King of Poland, her <i>protégé</i>, whom she had
rescued from the debtor's prison in Paris, and to whom
she had shown many favors, upon being elected King of
Poland in 1764, said to her: <i>Maman, votre fils est roi</i>
[Mamma, your son is king]. Two years later, when she
paid him a visit, the leading members of the Polish nobility
met her on the road, and the king had a special residence
prepared for her. As she passed through Vienna,
Joseph II. received her, and the Empress Maria entertained
her at dinner. Upon her return to Paris, after this triumphal
tour through Europe, the members of the world of
literature and art, and even the ministers and the nobility,
flocked to see her; this demonstration was the more remarkable
from the fact that she wielded no political influence,
her only desire and pleasure seeming to lie in aiding her friends.</p>
<p>Mme. Geoffrin was too practical and had too much good
common sense to be vain. The majority of men were influenced
by and favored her, and, which seemed strange,
she had few enemies among her own sex. Mme. Necker
said: "The old age of Mme. Geoffrin is like that of old
trees, whose age we know by the space they cover and
the quantity of roots they spread. She has seen all the
illustrious men of the century; she has discovered, with
sagacity, their peculiarities and their defects. She judges
them by their conduct, never by their talents."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page232" id="page232"></a>[pg 232]</span>
<p>In her best years, she was intimately associated with
the Encyclopædists, to whom she paid over one hundred
thousand francs for the publication of their work. Of all
the great women of that century, she was the closest
friend of the philosophers and free-thinkers, being called
<i>La Fontenelle des Femmes</i>. She was always ready with an
answer; one day a friend pointed out to her the house of
the farmer-general Bouvet, and asked her: "Have you
ever seen anything as magnificent and in better taste?"
She replied: "I would have nothing to say if Bouvet were
the <i>frotteur</i> [floor polisher] of it."</p>
<p>Mme. Geoffrin, more than any other woman of the
salons, possessed the three essential qualifications of a
salon leader,—good sense, tact, and intelligence. She had
also <i>esprit</i>, perfect simplicity, precision, and faultless taste;
though a sceptic, she was a diplomat who perfectly understood
the art of manœuvring. In short, Mme. Geoffrin
was an intellectual authority, a sort of minister to society,
and her salon was the great centre and rendezvous, a
veritable institution of the eighteenth century. This seems
the more remarkable when we consider that she belonged
to the bourgeoisie, and that by dint of her exquisite tact, her
almost infallible judgment, her admirable taste in dress,
and her keen intelligence, she created for herself a position
which was the envy of all Europe. Such women are
rare. During the last eighteen months of her life, though
suffering from paralysis and rheumatism, which she contracted
at a religious fête at Notre-Dame, she was unremitting
in her attention to her friends and the poor; and
up to her death, in 1777, her friends were faithful to her.</p>
<p>That spirit, or malady, which penetrated and ruled
almost every creature in the eighteenth century found its
most notable victim in Marie de Vichy-Chamrond—Mme.
du Deffand. She, so to speak, yawned out her life in a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page233" id="page233"></a>[pg 233]</span>
blasé society without faith or ideal. That horrible affliction,
with all its painful symptoms, ennui, whose origin
was seen to lie in an excess and abuse of <i>esprit</i> in a society
that based all its pleasures and happiness upon the mind
without any higher interest than the self, infected a whole
century with an "irremediable disenchantment of others
and one's self." This self-cult, or life in and for the mind,
developed sagacity, justness of views, and an incomparable
penetration, but it neglected all the elements necessary to
contentment and those other pleasures, of which the first
is love for one's fellow beings. Mme. du Deffand exemplified
this stage of mental unbalance; and when she
wrote of her former friend and companion: "Mlle. de
Lespinasse died to-day at two o'clock; formerly, that
would have been an event for me; to-day, it is nothing at
all," she gave an idea of the indifference which was characteristic
of the society of the time—an indifference which
developed into an incurable malady and an all-consuming
egoism, stifling the heart-beat of that world which was
weary of everything and yet was unwilling to close its eyes.</p>
<p>Marie de Vichy-Chamrond was born in 1697, of a noble
family. She began the same manner of life as that followed
by most French women, being reared in the Convent
of Madeleine de Frénel, where, when quite young,
she evinced a strong spirit of impiety, giving expression to
the most sceptical opinions upon religious subjects, to the
great dismay of her superiors and parents. At the age of
twenty she was married to the Marquis du Deffand, who
had but his brevet of colonel of a regiment of dragoons,
and whose intelligence and fortune were of a <i>nullité rare</i>.
However, her marriage was a sort of emancipation which
enabled her to enter society; and it is asserted that she
soon became the mistress of Philippe of Orléans, the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page234" id="page234"></a>[pg 234]</span>
regent, from whom she received six thousand francs life income.</p>
<p>As the result of a disagreement, she separated from her
husband, and then began a life of pleasure among the
gayest of the most fashionable world, where, through
the power of her brilliancy, wit, charm, and fascinating
beauty, she immediately became a leader. After passing
through all the phases of social life and its varied experiences—from
the society of Mme. de Prie, the type of the
dissolute woman of the Regency, from the famous suppers
of the regent, whose ingenious inventions of lewd and
wanton pleasures made him notorious, from an association
with the intriguing Duchesse de Maine, to all the great
and influential social centres of Paris—in short, after pursuing
a career of fashionable dissipation, she became
reconciled to her husband, and lived with him in peace
and happiness for a short time; but six months of regular
life affected her behavior toward the poor marquis to such
a degree that he thought it best to leave her. After that
episode, she returned to her lover; and, rejected by him
and her friends, and becoming the subject of the gossip of
the entire city, she sought consolation from one acquaintance
after another, and was miserable all the time.</p>
<p>At the age of about thirty-four, Mme. du Deffand returned
to a kind of regular life, and, in time, won a
reputation for <i>esprit</i>, regained her honorable friends and
established for herself a kind of accepted authority. Thus,
when she opened a salon in 1742, she was able to attract
a brilliant company, which became famous after 1749,
when she took apartments in the Convent Saint-Joseph.
Here wit and polished manners, taste, vivacity, and good
sense were the requisites; literature, politics, and philosophy
were not tolerated, but "sparkling <i>bons mots</i>, glancing
epigrams, witty verses, were the avenues to social success."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page235" id="page235"></a>[pg 235]</span>
<p>Until her dotage this woman, who, from a natural selfishness
and lack of sympathy, was incapable of loving
with the characteristic ardor of the women of her time, by
knowing how to inspire love in others, controlled and held
near her the famous men and women of her age. When
she began to realize the calamity of her failing sight, which
was probably due to her general state of restlessness and
the resultant physical decay, she received, as companion,
a relative, Mlle. de Lespinasse, who undertook the most
difficult, disagreeable, and ungrateful task of waiting on
the marquise. As Mme. du Deffand arose in time to receive
at six, mademoiselle soon announced to the friends
that she herself would be visible at an earlier hour. Thus,
it happened that Marmontel, Turgot, Condorcet, and
d'Alembert regularly assembled in mademoiselle's room—a
proceeding which soon led to a rupture between the two
women and a breach between Mme. du Deffand and
d'Alembert. The marquise was therefore left alone, blind,
but too proud to tolerate pity, yet by her conversation
retaining her power of fascination. It was about this
time that Horace Walpole became connected with her life.
Upon the death of Mme. Geoffrin, she, hearing of the imposing
ceremonies and funeral orations, exclaimed: <i>Voilà
bien du bruit pour une omelette au lard</i>. [A great ado about
a lard omelet!] Her latter years were dragged out most
miserably, being marked by a singular feverishness and
unavailing efforts toward the acceptance of some faith.
Her death, in 1780, finally brought her relief.</p>
<p>The career of Mme. du Deffand actually began as early
as 1730, when she opened her establishment on the Rue
de Beaune, at the time that she became attached to the
president Hénault, who presided over her salon for more
than thirty years. The famous salon Du Deffand at the
Convent Saint-Joseph was not opened until 1749; there
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page236" id="page236"></a>[pg 236]</span>
she was very particular as to those whom she received,
and access to her salon was a matter of difficulty. Grimm
was never received, and Diderot was present but once.
The conversation was always intellectual, and whenever
she tired of French vivacity, she would spend an evening with Mme. Necker.</p>
<p>A letter of Walpole to Montagu leaves, on the whole, a
splendid picture of her: "I have heard her dispute with all
sorts of people, upon all sorts of subjects, and never knew
her to be in the wrong. She humbles the learned, sets
right their disciples, and finds conversation for everybody.
As affectionate as Mme. de Sévigné, she has none of her
prejudices, but a more universal taste; and with the most
delicate frame, her spirits hurry her through a life of fatigue
that would kill me were I to remain here."</p>
<p>The simple furnishings of her apartments, which were
very spacious and had been occupied by the famous Mme.
de Montespan, stood out in striking contrast to the elegance
of her visitors. Here she gathered about her her
two lovers, <i>le Président</i> Hénault and Pont de Veyle, besides
D'Alembert, Turgot, Voltaire, Montesquieu, Necker,
Walpole, the Abbés Barthélemy and Pernetty, the Chevalier
de Lisle, de Formant, <i>le Docteur</i> Gatti, Hume, Gibbon,
Baron de Gleichen, and many other celebrities, including
the Princesses de Beauvau, de Poix, de Talmont,
the Duchesses de Choiseul, d'Aiguillon, de Gramont, the
Maréchale de Luxembourg, the Marquises de Boufflers and
du Châtelet, the Comtesses de Rochefort, de Broglie, de
Forcalquier, Mme. Necker, Lady Pembroke, De Lauzun,
and many others, all of whom were society leaders. Whenever
Mme. du Deffand had a special supper, it was said
that Paris was at Mme. du Deffand's.</p>
<p>Her salon, above all others, was the centre of cosmopolitanism,
where all great men, foreigners and natives, found
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page237" id="page237"></a>[pg 237]</span>
means of social intercourse, and where, more than in any
other salon, were assembled the great beauties of the day,
represented especially by the Countesses de Forcalquier
and Choiseul-Beaupré, Duchesse de La Vallière. Gallantry
and beauty were found in the Maréchale de Luxembourg
and the Comtesse de Boufflers. The philosophical movement
of the Encyclopædists and Economists was not encouraged
at all. Thus, in Mme. du Deffand's salon, we
find neither pure philosophy nor religion, nor the air of
pedants and <i>déclamateurs</i>; it was a royalist salon without
illusion, hence indifferent to all questions. It represented
the perfect type of the French model of <i>esprit de finesse</i>,—that
is, precision,—and its leader possessed a keen insight into human character.</p>
<p>This wonderful woman, who, during a period of over
forty years, had held at her feet the élite of the French
world, at the age of about threescore and ten, fell desperately
in love with a man of fifty—Horace Walpole. She
who had never loved with her heart, but only with her
mind, then declared it better to be dead than not to love
someone. Although her actions and letters were pitiful in
the extreme, her epistles are invaluable for their incomparable
portraitures and keen reflections upon persons and
events of the time. She attracted Walpole by the possibilities
that were opened up to him by her position in
society, and by her brilliant conversation, in which she
scoffed at the clergy and the philosophers, showing a profound
insight into human nature and the society of the
time as well as into politics. Their correspondence shows
one of the most pitiful, pathetic, and lamentable love tales
in the history of society. He looked upon her friendship
as a most valuable acquisition by which he was kept in
touch with all the scandals and stories of society, of which
he was so fond, and she mistook that friendship for love.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page238" id="page238"></a>[pg 238]</span>
He felt himself flattered in being the one preferred by
such a distinguished old lady of high society.</p>
<p>All critics are at a loss for the explanation of such a love
in a woman of seventy. Was it the result of the lifetime
of disappointment of a woman who had constantly sought
love but had never found it? Was it, thus, the hallucination
of the childish old age of the woman who was physically
consumed by incessant social functions and all-night
reading? Mme. du Deffand sees in Walpole her ideal,
and she gives expression to her feelings, regardless of
propriety; for she is childish and irresponsible. To a
certain extent, the same was true of Mme. de Staël, but
she was still physically healthy and young enough to enjoy
life and the realization of that which she had so long
desired—an ideal affection. In the case of Mme. du Deffand,
the soul was willing, but the body failed. Her
emotion can scarcely be termed love, but is rather to be
designated as a mental hallucination, an exaggerated intellectual
affection bordering upon sentimentality—the outgrowth
of that morbid imagination developed from her long suffering from ennui.</p>
<p>She was a woman destined to pass by the side of happiness
without ever reaching it. She hardly had enjoyed
what may be called friendship; she was always either
suspicious of it and of her friends' sentiments, or she herself
broke off relations for some trivial reason. This woman,
however, always longed to believe her friends sincere, but
never succeeded. "Her friends either leave her, they die,
or they are far away; or, if present, faithful and attached
to her, she cannot believe in their affection; her cursed
scepticism deceived her heart."</p>
<p>Mme. du Deffand was one of the few women of the
eighteenth century who saw reality and nothing but reality,
and admitted what she saw; she was gifted with such
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page239" id="page239"></a>[pg 239]</span>
quick penetration and such mental facility that she stands
out prominently as one of the brightest and most intellectual
of the spiritual women of her time. This quickness of
perception and tendency to follow a mere impression made
it difficult for her to examine closely, to be patient of details;
too sure of herself, too emotional, too passionate, she
displayed injustice, vehemence, over-enthusiasm; easily
bored and disgusted, she was, at the same time, susceptible
to infatuation. Scherer said: "She is a superior man in a
body of a nervous and weak woman."</p>
<p>She was a woman dominated by her reason—a characteristic
which led to an incurable ennui, thus causing her
terrible suffering, but equipping her with a penetration
which saw through the world and knew man, whom she
divided into three classes: <i>les trompeurs</i>, <i>les trompés</i>, <i>les
trompettes</i>. According to her judgment, man is either
fatiguing or, if brilliantly endowed, usually false or jealous;
but she realized, also, her own shortcomings, the incompleteness
of her faculties. "The force of her thought does
not reach talent; her intelligence is active and responsive,
but fails to respond. She often shows a sovereign disdain
for herself, everybody, and everything. She arrives at a
point in life when she no longer has passion, desire, or
even curiosity; she detests life, and dreads death because
she does not know that there is another world. She is
not happy enough to do without those whom she scorns,
and must therefore seek diversion in the conversation of
stupid people, preferring anything to solitude; this refers
to the time when her best friends are no more and when
she herself is out of her former <i>milieu</i>); she was too old,
or lived too long; she belongs to another age."</p>
<p>By her friends she was called the feminine Voltaire, and
the celebrated philosopher and she were drawn together
by a very similar habit of mind, although, to her intimates,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page240" id="page240"></a>[pg 240]</span>
she scorched Voltaire; but in writing to him she would
overwhelm him with compliments, calling him the only
orthodox representative of good taste. In general, she
detested philosophers, because their hearts were cold and
their minds preoccupied with themselves.</p>
<p>Mme. du Deffand had an inherent passion for simplicity,
frankness, justice, and a hatred for deceit and affectation;
but, strange as it may seem, her nature required variety
in her pleasure—new people, new pursuits, new amusements,
new agitations for her hungry mind; she was too
critical to be contented and to put implicit trust in her
friends. An agnostic, always endeavoring to probe into
the nature of things, the possession of a personal, living
faith was yet the strongest desire of her heart; all her life
she longed for the peace that religion affords, but this was
denied her, although she had the spiritual assistance of
the most famous of the clergy, attended church, had her
oratory, her confessor, and faithfully studied the Bible; all
was vain—belief would not come to her. The marriage
tie was not sacred to her, which was the case with many
of the French women of the day, but she went further in
lacking all reverence for religious ceremony, though she
respected the beliefs of others.</p>
<p>She was all wit and intellectuality. In order to keep
her friends from falling under the spell of ennui, she devoted
herself to the culinary art, and her suppers became
famous for their rare dishes. "She is an example of the
type that was predominant in the time—one that had lived
too much and was dying from excess of knowledge and
pleasure; but she sought that which did not exist in that
age,—serenity, peace, faith. She was passionate, sensitive,
and sympathetic, in a cold, heartless, and unfeeling
world. She needed variety; being bored with society,
solitude, husband, lovers, herself, nothing remained for
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page241" id="page241"></a>[pg 241]</span>
her but to await deliverance by death." This came to her in 1780.</p>
<p>In matters literary, Mme. du Deffand preserved an absolute
liberty and independence of opinion. She refused
to accept the verdicts of the most competent judges; with
instinctive attractions and repulsions, she found but few
writers that pleased her. Boileau, Lesage, Chamfort, were
her favorites. She said that Buffon was of an unendurable
monotony. "He knows well what he knows, but he is
occupied with beasts only; one must be something of a
beast one's self in order to devote one's self to such an occupation."</p>
<p>As a writer, she showed remarkable good sense, admirable
sincerity, rare judgment, justness, and precision;
depth and charm were present in a less degree than were
other desirable qualities, but she exhibited excellent <i>esprit</i>.
She was probably the most subtile, and at the same time
the most fastidious person of the century. The best portraits
of her were written by her own pen; two of them
we give, one written at the beginning of her career in
1728, the other at its end in 1774.</p>
<p>"Mme. la Marquise du Deffand is an enemy of all falseness
and affectation. Her talk and countenance are always
the faithful interpreters of the sentiment of her soul. Her
form is not fine nor bad. She has <i>esprit</i>, is reasonable and
has a correct taste. If vivacity at times leads her off,
truth soon brings her back. After she falls into an ennui
which extinguishes all the light of her mind, she finds that
state insupportable and the cause of such unhappiness,
that she blindly embraces all that presents itself, without deliberation."</p>
<p>(1774.) "They believe Mme. du Deffand to possess
more <i>esprit</i> than she really has; they praise and fear her,
but she merits neither the one nor the other. As far as
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page242" id="page242"></a>[pg 242]</span>
her <i>esprit</i> is concerned, she is what she is; in regard to her
form, to her birth and fortune—nothing extraordinary,
nothing distinguished. Born without great talent, incapable
of great application, she is very susceptible to ennui, and,
not finding any resource within herself, she resorts to those
that surround her and this search is often without success."</p>
<p>Mme. du Deffand arouses our curiosity because she was
such an exceptional character, led such a strange life,
made and retained friends in ways so different from those
of the noted heroines of the salons. In her youth, she
was beautiful and fascinating, with numerous lovers and
numberless suitors, but she grew even more famous as
her age increased; when infirm and blind, and living in a
convent, she ruled by virtue of her acknowledged authority
and was still able to cope with the greatest philosophers,
the chief and dean of whom, Voltaire, wrote the following four lines:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"Qui vous voit et qui vous entend</p>
<p>Perd bientôt sa philosophie;</p>
<p>Et tout sage avec Du Deffand</p>
<p>Voudrait en fou passer sa vie."</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>[He who sees and hears you,</p>
<p>Soon loses his philosophy.</p>
<p>Wise he who with Du Deffand</p>
<p>Insane would pass his life.]</p>
</div> </div>
<p>Living long enough to witness the reigns of three kings
and one regent, she was brilliant enough to reign over the
intellectual and social world for over fifty years, by virtue
of her intellectuality, keenness, and wit; yet, among all the
great women of France, she is truly the one who deserves
genuine pity and sympathy.</p>
<p>The salon of Mlle. de Lespinasse, her rival, was of a
different type, being exclusively intellectual, but permitting
absolute liberty of expression of opinions. Born in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page243" id="page243"></a>[pg 243]</span>
1732, at the house of a surgeon of Lyons, she was the
illegitimate daughter of the Comtesse d'Albon and was
baptized as the child of a man supposed to be named
Claude Lespinasse. From 1753 she was the constant
attendant to Mme. du Deffand, her mother's sister-in-law,
for a period of ten years, until she became completely
worn out physically, morally, and mentally by incessant
care and endless all-night readings. An attempt to end
her existence with sixty grains of opium failed. Owing
to the jealousy of Mme. du Deffand, a separation ensued
in 1764, when she retired some distance from the Convent
Saint-Joseph to very modest apartments, where, by
means of her friends, she was able to receive in a dignified
way. The Maréchale de Luxembourg completely fitted up
her apartment, the Duc de Choiseul succeeded in getting
her an annual pension from the king, and Mme. Geoffrin
allowed her three thousand francs.</p>
<p>The majority of the members of her salon were from that
of Mme. du Deffand, having followed Mlle. de Lespinasse
after the rupture of the two women; besides these, there
were Condorcet, Helvétius, Grimm, Marmontel, Condillac,
Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, and many others. As her hours
for receiving were after five o'clock, her friends were made
to understand that her means were not such as to warrant
suppers or dinners, four o'clock being the dinner hour in those days.</p>
<p>Her salon immediately became known as the official
encyclopædia resort, Mme. du Deffand dubbing it <i>La Muse
de l'Encyclopédie</i>. D'Alembert was the high priest, and
it was not long before he was comfortably lodged in the
third story of her house, Mlle. de Lespinasse having nursed
him through a malignant fever which the poor man had
contracted in the wretched place where he lodged. A
strange gathering, those salons! Mlle. de Lespinasse, one
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page244" id="page244"></a>[pg 244]</span>
of the leaders in the social world, with a prominent salon,
was the illegitimate daughter of a Comtesse d'Albon, and
her presiding genius was the illegitimate son of Mme. de
Tencin; here we find the wealthiest and most elegant of
the aristocracy coming from their palaces to meet, in
friendly social and intellectual intercourse, men who lived
on a mere pittance, dressed on almost nothing, lodged in
the most wretched of dens, boarding wherever a salon or
palace was opened to them. Surely, intellect was highly
valued in those days, and moral etiquette was at a low ebb!</p>
<p>Mlle. de Lespinasse possessed two characteristics which
were prominent in a remarkable degree—love and friendship.
She appeared to interest herself in everybody in
such a way as to make him believe that he was the
preferred of her heart; loving everybody sincerely and
affectionately, she "lacked altogether the sentimental
equilibrium." Especially pathetic was her love for two
men—the Count de Mora, a Spanish nobleman, and a
Colonel Guibert, who was celebrated for his relations with
Frederick the Great; although this wore terribly on her,
consuming her physical force, she always received her
friends with the same good grace, but often, after their departure,
she would fall into a frightful nervous fit from
which she could find relief only by the use of opium.</p>
<p>Her love for Guibert was known to her friends, but was
a secret from her platonic lover, D'Alembert. When, after
a number of years of untold sufferings which even opium
could not relieve, she died in 1776, having been cared for
to the last by D'Alembert, the Duke de La Rochefoucauld,
and her cousin, the Marquis d'Enlezy, it was with these
words on her dying lips, addressed to Guibert: "Adieu, my
friend! If ever I return to life, I should like to use it in
loving you; but there is no longer any time." When
D'Alembert read in her correspondence that she had been
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page245" id="page245"></a>[pg 245]</span>
the mistress of Guibert for sixteen years, he was disconsolate,
and retired to the Louvre, which was his privilege
as Secretary of the Academy. He left there only to go
walking in the evening with Marmontel, who tried to
console him by recalling the changeableness of humor of
Mlle. de Lespinasse. "Yes," he would reply, "she has
changed, but not I; she no longer lived for me, but I
always lived for her. Since she is no longer, I don't
know why I am living. Ah, that I must still suffer these
moments of bitterness which she knew so well how to
soothe and make me forget! Do you remember the happy
evenings we used to pass? What is there now? Instead
of her, when coming home, I find only her shadow! This
Louvre lodging is itself a tomb, which I enter only with fright."</p>
<p>Mlle. de Lespinasse died of grief for a lover's death, but
she left a group of lovers to lament her loss. In many
respects she was not unlike Mlle. de Scudéry; exceptionally
plain, her face was much marked with smallpox, a
disfigurement not uncommon in those days; her exceedingly
piercing and fine eyes, beautiful hair, tall and elegant
figure, excellent taste in dress, pleasing voice and a
most brilliant talent for conversation, combined to make
her one of the most attractive and popular women of her
time. As previously stated, she was the only female
admitted to the dinners given by Mme. Geoffrin to her men of letters.</p>
<p>Mme. du Deffand's friend, <i>le Président</i> Hénault, left the
following portrait of Mlle. de Lespinasse: "You are cosmopolitan—you
are suitable to all occasions. You like
company—you like solitude. Pleasures amuse, but do
not seduce you. You have very strong passions, and of
the best kind, for they do not return often. Nature, in
endowing you with an ordinary state, gave you something
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page246" id="page246"></a>[pg 246]</span>
with which to rise above it. You are distinguished, and,
without being beautiful, you attract attention. There is
something piquant in you; one might obstinately endeavor
to turn your head, but it would be at one's own expense.
Your will must be awaited, because you cannot be made
to come. Your cheerfulness embellishes you, and relaxes
your nerves, which are too highly strung. You have your
own opinion, and you leave others their own. You are
extremely polite. You have divined <i>le monde</i>. In vain
one would transplant you—you would take root anywhere.
In short, you are not an ordinary person."</p>
<p>The salon of Mlle. de Lespinasse was unique. Everyone
was at perfect liberty to express and sustain his own
opinions upon any subject, without danger of offending the
hostess, which, as has been seen, was not the case in
the salon of Mme. Geoffrin. Her high and sane intellectual
culture permitted her to listen to all discussions
and to take part in all. She had no strong prejudices,
having read—for Mme. du Deffand—nearly everything
that was read at that time; also, she had the talent of
preserving harmony among her members by drawing from
each one his best qualities.</p>
<p>A woman who played a prominent part in society during
the Regency, but who had no salon in the proper sense of
that word, was Mme. du Châtelet, commonly called Voltaire's
Emilie. She was especially interested in sciences,
mathematics, geometry, and astronomy, and did more than
any other woman of that time to encourage nature study.
It was at her Château de Cirey that Voltaire found protection
when threatened with a second visit to the Bastille;
and there, from time to time for sixteen years, he did some
of the best work of his life. It was Mme. du Châtelet who
encouraged him, sympathized with him, and appreciated
his mobile humor as well as his talent. During these
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page247" id="page247"></a>[pg 247]</span>
years, while he was under the influence of madame, appeared
<i>Mérope</i>, <i>Alzire</i>, the <i>Siècle de Louis XIV</i>, etc.</p>
<p>Mme. du Châtelet was the one great <i>femme savante</i> of
that century. In the preface to her <i>Traduction des Principes
Mathématiques de Newton</i>, Voltaire wrote: "Never
was a woman so <i>savante</i> as she, and never did a woman
merit less the saying, <i>she is a femme savante</i>. She did not
select her friends from those circles where there was a
war of <i>esprit</i>, where a sort of tribunal was established,
where they judged their century, by which, in recompense,
they were severely judged. She lived for a long time in
societies which were ignorant of what she was, and she
took no notice of this ignorance. The words precision,
justness, and force are those which correctly describe her
elegance. She would have written as Pascal and Nicole
did rather than like Mme. de Sévigné; but this severe
firmness and this tendency of her <i>esprit</i> did not make her
inaccessible to the beauties of sentiment."</p>
<p>Maupertuis, the astronomer, wrote: "What a marvel,
moreover, to have been able to combine the fine qualities
of her sex with the sublime knowledge which we believe
uniquely made for us! This enterprising phenomenon will
make her memory eternally respected."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page249" id="page249"></a>[pg 249]</span>
<h2>Chapter IX</h2>
<h2>Salon Leaders—(Continued)<br />
Mme. Necker, Mme. d'Epinay, Mme. de Genlis: Minor Salons</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page251" id="page251"></a>[pg 251]</span>
<p>It seems strange indeed that in a century in which the
universal impulse was toward pleasure, and sameness of
personality was visible everywhere, the types of great
women showed such an absolute dissimilarity. The contrast
between the natural inclinations of Mme. Necker,
the wife of the great minister of finance, and the atmosphere
in which she lived, makes the study of her a most
interesting one. Born in Switzerland, the daughter of
Curchod, a poor Protestant minister, "with patriarchal
morals, solid education, and strong good sense," this moral
and stern woman was thrown into the midst of depraved
elegance, refined licentiousness, and physical debauchery.
Sincere, chaste, enthusiastic, and essentially religious, she
remained so amidst all the corruption and physical and
mental degeneracy of the age.</p>
<p>Critics have made much ado over her marriage, a union
of pure love and mutual inclinations, amidst the marriages
of mere convenience and the gallant liaisons, such
as those of Mme. du Deffand and <i>le Président</i> Hénault, and
Mme. d'Epinay and Grimm. The matrimonial selection
of Susanne Curchod was natural in a girl of her serious
make-up, her moral education and her pure ancestry of the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page252" id="page252"></a>[pg 252]</span>
strict Protestant type. As a girl of sixteen, she had given
evidence of remarkable mental ability and had acquired a
wide knowledge—physics, Latin, philosophy, metaphysics—when
she was sent to Lausanne, possibly with the idea
of meeting a future husband with whom she could become
thoroughly acquainted before giving up her independence.
There she became the centre of a group or academy of
young people, who, under her leadership, discussed subjects
of every nature. At first she showed a tendency
toward <i>préciosité</i> and the spirit of the blue-stocking rather
than toward the seriousness and dignity which marked her later career.</p>
<p>It was at Lausanne that she met and fell in love with
Gibbon, the English historian; this love affair met with opposition
from Gibbon's father, and, after the death of the
father of his fiancée, a calamity which left her poor and
necessitated her teaching for a living, the Englishman, by
his actions and manner toward her, compelled the breaking
of their engagement. When, later in life, he went to
her salon, they became intimate friends, enjoying "the
intellectual union which had been impossible for them in their earlier days."</p>
<p>Thus, at the age of twenty-four, Mlle. Curchod, beautiful,
virtuous, and accomplished, and at the height of her
reputation in a small town in Switzerland, was left an
orphan. She was taken to Paris by Mme. de Vermenoux,
a wealthy widow, who was sought in marriage by
M. Necker, banker and capitalist; but, as she was unable
to make up her mind to a definite answer, his attention
was attracted to her young companion. The result was
that, after a few months' sojourn in Paris, Mlle. Curchod
became the wife of M. Necker, an event which caused rejoicing
from Lausanne to Geneva. Their characters are
well portrayed in two letters, written by them to their
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page253" id="page253"></a>[pg 253]</span>
friends after their marriage. M. Necker wrote, in reply
to a letter of congratulation:</p>
<p>"Yes, sir; your friend (Mlle. Curchod) was indeed
willing to have me, and I believe myself as happy as one
can be. I cannot understand how it can be you whom
they congratulate, unless it is as my friend. Will money
always be the measure of opinion? That is pitiable! He
who wins a virtuous, kind, and sensible woman—has he
not made a good transaction, whether or not she be
seated on sacks of money? Humanity, what a poor judge you are!"</p>
<p>Shortly after her marriage, Mme. Necker wrote to one
of her friends: "My dear, I have married a man who,
according to my ideas, is the kindest of mortals, and I am
not the only one to judge thus. I had had a liking for him
ever since I learned to know him. At present, I see, in
all nature, only my husband. I take notice of other men
only in so far as they come more or less up to the
standard of my husband, and I compare them only for
the pleasure of seeing the difference." The marital
relations of this loving pair lasted throughout life; and
among great women of the eighteenth century, Mme.
Necker is one of the few examples of ideal marriage relations.</p>
<p>Soon after their marriage, the Neckers took up their
quarters at the Rue Michel-le-Comte, where they began
to receive friends. As at that time every day in the week
was reserved by other salons,—Monday and Wednesday
at Mme. Geoffrin's, Tuesday at Helvétius's, Thursday and
Sunday at the Baron d'Holbach's,—Mme. Necker was
compelled to appoint Friday as her reception day. She
soon succeeded in attracting to her hôtel the best <i>esprit</i> of
Paris: Diderot, Suard, Grimm, Comte de Schomberg, Marmontel,
D'Alembert, Thomas, Saint-Lambert, Helvétius,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page254" id="page254"></a>[pg 254]</span>
Ducis, Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, the Abbés Raynal, Armand,
and Morellet, Mme. Geoffrin, Mme. du Deffand,
Mme. de Marchais, Mme. Suard, the Maréchale de Luxembourg,
the Duchesse de Lauzun, the Marquise de La Ferté-Imbault, Mme. de Boufflers.</p>
<p>Among these visitors, most of whom were atheists,
Mme. Necker preserved her own religious opinions and
piety, although her friends at Geneva never ceased to be
concerned about her. Her admirers were many, but they
were kept within the bounds of propriety and never attempted
any gallant liberties with the hostess—except her
ardent admirer Thomas, the intensity of whose eulogies
upon her she was forced to check occasionally. It was
not long before she became very influential in filling the
vacant seats of the Academy. In this and many other
respects, her salon may be compared with that of Mme. de Lambert.</p>
<p>Mme. Necker's idea of conducting a salon and its conversation
was much the same as the management of a
state; she believed that the hostess must never join in
the conversation as long as it goes on by itself, but, ever
watchful, must never permit disturbances, disagreements,
improprieties, or obstacles; she must animate it if it languish;
she must see that conversation never takes a dangerous,
disagreeable, or tiresome turn, and that it never
brings into undue prominence one man especially, as this
makes others jealous and displeases the entire society; it
must always interest and include all members. The discussions
at Mme. Necker's were literary and philosophical;
and to prevent even the possibility of tedium, frequent
readings were given in their place.</p>
<p>It was at the salon of Mme. Necker that Bernardin de
Saint-Pierre first read his <i>Paul et Virginie</i>, which received
such a cold and indifferent welcome that the author, utterly
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page255" id="page255"></a>[pg 255]</span>
discouraged, was on the point of burning his manuscript,
when he was prevailed upon by his friend Vernet, the
great artist, to preserve all his works. Mme. Necker was
always quite frank and outspoken, often showing a cutting
harshness and a rigor which, as was said, was little in harmony
with her bare neck and arms—a style then in vogue
at court. She never judged persons by their reputations,
but by their <i>esprit</i>; thus, it was possible for her to receive
people of the most diverse tendencies. When the Marquise
de La Ferté-Imbault, one of the few virtuous women
of the time, and of the highest aristocracy, was invited to
attend the salon of Mme. Necker and was told that the
Maréchale de Luxembourg, Mme. du Deffand, Mme. de
Boufflers, and Mme. Marchais were frequenters, she said:
"These four women are so discredited by manners, and
the first two are so dangerous, that for thirty years they
have been the horror of society."</p>
<p>The two portraits by Marmontel and Galiani are interesting,
as throwing light upon the doings of her salon.
Marmontel wrote: "Mme. Necker is very virtuous and
instructed, but emphatic and stiff. She does not know
Mme. de Sévigné, whom she praises, and only esteems
Buffon and Thomas. She calculates all things; she sought
men of letters only as trumpets to blow in honor of her
husband. He never said a word; that was not very recreating."</p>
<p>Galiani leaves a different impression: "There is not a
Friday that I do not go to your house <i>en esprit</i>. I arrive,
I find you now busy with your headdress, now busy with
this duchess. I seat myself at your feet. Thomas quietly
suffers, Morellet shows his anger aloud. Grimm and Suard
laugh heartily about it, and my dear Comte de Greuze
does not notice it. Marmontel finds the example worthy
to be imitated, and you, madame, make two of your most
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page256" id="page256"></a>[pg 256]</span>
beautiful virtues do battle, bashfulness and politeness, and
in this suffering you find me a little monster more embarrassing
than odious. Dinner is announced. They leave
the table and in the café all speak at the same time.
M. Necker thinks everything well, bows his head and goes away."</p>
<p>In summer her receptions were first held at the Château
de Madrid, and, later on, in a château at Saint-Ouen; the
guests were always called for and returned in carriages
supplied by the hostess. It was in her salon, in 1770, that
the plan originated to erect the statue of Voltaire, which is
to-day the famous statue of the <i>Palais de l'Institute</i>.</p>
<p>When, during the stirring times before the Revolution,
her salon took on a purely political nature, Mme. Necker
played a very secondary rôle. In 1788 she and her husband
were compelled to leave Paris; but being recalled by
Louis XVI., Necker managed affairs for thirteen months,
after which he retired with Mme. Necker to Coppet, where,
in 1794, the latter died.</p>
<p>Mme. Necker never became a thorough Frenchwoman;
she always lacked the grace and charm which are the
necessary qualifications of a salon leader; intelligence was
her most meritorious quality. Her dinners were apt to
become tiresome and to drag. A very interesting story
is told of her by the Marquis de Chastellux, which was
reported by Mme. Genlis, one of her intimate friends:</p>
<p>"Dining at Mme. Necker's, the marquis was first to
arrive, and so early that the hostess was not yet in the
salon. In walking up and down the room, he noticed a
small book under Mme. Necker's chair. He picked it up
and opened it. It was a blank book, a few of the pages of
which had been written upon by Mme. Necker. Certainly,
he would not have read a letter, but, believing to
find only a few spiritual thoughts, he read without any
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page257" id="page257"></a>[pg 257]</span>
scruples. It contained the plan for the dinner of that day,
to which he had been invited, and had been written by
Mme. Necker on the previous evening. It told what she
would say to the most prominent of the invited guests.
She wrote: 'I shall speak to the Chevalier de Chastellux
about public felicity and Agatha; to M. d'Angeviller, I shall
speak of love; between Marmontel and Guibert I shall raise
some literary discussion.' After reading the note, he hurriedly
replaced the book under the chair. A moment later,
a valet entered, saying that madame had left her notebook
in the salon. The dinner was charming for M. de
Chastellux, because he had the pleasure of hearing Mme.
Necker say, word for word, what she had written in her notebook."</p>
<p>This woman was ever preoccupied with style, and,
throughout her life, retained the solemn, studied, and academic
air, as well as the simple, rural, innocent manner
and spirit of her early surroundings. A mere bourgeoise,
unaccustomed to elegance or to the manners of French
social life, upon entering Parisian society she set her mind
to observing, and immediately began to change her provincial
ways and to make over her <i>esprit</i> for conversation,
for circumstances, and for characters; she adjusted her
provincial spirit to that of Paris, thus making of it an
entirely new product. Later on, her salon became the
first of the modern political salons, but it was far from
reaching the prominence of that of Mme. Geoffrin, whose
characteristics were social prudence and strict propriety,
while those of Mme. Necker were virtue and goodness.</p>
<p>Mme. Necker was never in perfect sympathy with her
visitors, the philosophers, the common basis of ideas and
sentiments never existing between her and her friends as
it did between Mme. Geoffrin and her frequenters; her tie
was always artificial. "She represented the Swiss spirit
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page258" id="page258"></a>[pg 258]</span>
in Parisian society; those serious and educated souls, virtuous
and sentimental, somewhat sad and strictly moral,
were rather tiresome to the Parisian world." Marmontel
well describes her in another of his famous portraits:</p>
<p>"A stranger to the customs of Paris, Mme. Necker had
none of the charms and accomplishments of the young
French woman. In her manner and language she had
neither the air nor the tone of a woman reared in the
school of arts, formed at the school of high society. Without
taste in her headdress, without ease in her bearing,
without fascination in her politeness, her mind—as was
her countenance—was too properly adjusted to show
grace. But a charm more worthy of her was that of propriety,
of candor, of goodness. A virtuous education and
solitary studies had given to her all that culture can add
to an excellent nature. In her, sentiment was perfect,
but her thought was often confused and vague; instead of
clearing her ideas, meditation disturbed them; in exaggerating
them, she believed to enlarge them; in order to
extend them, she wandered off into abstractions and
hyperboles. She seemed to see certain objects only
through a fog, which augmented their importance in her
eyes; and then her expression became so inflated that the
pomposity of it would have been laughable if one had not
known her to be entirely ingenuous."</p>
<p>"In summing up the character of Mme. Necker, we find,"
says Sainte-Beuve, "first of all, a genuine individuality and
a personality with defects which at first impression are
shocking, but which only helped to render the woman and
all her aspirations the more admirable. Entering a Parisian
society with the firm decision of becoming a woman of
<i>esprit</i> and of being in relation with the <i>beaux esprits</i>, she
was able to preserve the moral conscience of her Protestant
training, to protest against the false doctrines about
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page259" id="page259"></a>[pg 259]</span>
her, to give herself up to duties in the midst of society, to
found institutions for the sick and needy,—and to leave a
memory without a stain."</p>
<p>While, among the famous salon leaders of the eighteenth
century, Mme. Necker stands out preëminently for her
strict moral integrity and fidelity to her marriage relations,
Mme. d'Epinay is unique for the constancy of her affections
for the men to whom she owes her celebrity, Rousseau
and Grimm. Born in 1725, the record of her life
runs like that of most French women. At the age of
twenty she was married to her cousin, La Live, who later
took the name of d'Epinay, from an estate his father, the
wealthy M. de Bellegarde, had bought—a man who was
really in love with her for a whole month after their marriage,
but who, tiring of the pure affections of a loving
wife, soon began to lavish his time and fortune upon a
<i>danseuse</i>. The poor young wife was between two fires,
the extravagance and wild dissipations of her husband
and the rigid discipline and orthodoxy of her mother.
Never was a woman treated so outrageously and insultingly
as was this woman by a man who contrived in every
manner to corrupt her morals by throwing her among his
dissolute companions, Mme. d'Artz, the mistress of the
Prince de Conti, and Mlle. d'Ette, an intriguing woman
of the time; to the latter, Mme. d'Epinay confided her
troubles, and, as the result of her counsels, fell into the
hands of a M. de Francueil, handsome, clever, accomplished,
but as morally depraved as was her husband.</p>
<p>When Mme. d'Epinay was finally convinced that her
husband was untrue to her, she felt nothing but disdain
and contempt for him, and decided to live a virtuous life;
after holding for a short time to her resolution "that a
woman may have the most profound and tender sentiment
for a man and yet remain faithful to her duties," she lost
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page260" id="page260"></a>[pg 260]</span>
herself under the influence of the professional seducer
Francueil, and, completely carried away by that passion,
she cries out, in her memoirs: <i>Francueil, Francueil, tu
m'as perdue, et tu disais que tu m'aimais</i> [You have undone
me—and you said you loved me]! Such was the lot, as
was seen, of most women of those days, who had noble
intentions, but a woman's weakness. The century did
not demand faithfulness to the marital vows; but when a
woman had once abandoned herself to love, it required
that the attachment be to a man of honor and standing.
Marriage was simply a preliminary step to freedom; after
that ceremony came the natural election of the heart and
mutual tenderness of the beings who could be mated only
through the freedom which married life afforded. A superior
illegitimate liaison was nothing unnatural—on the
contrary, it was but a natural human selection; such was
the nature of the affection of Mme. d'Epinay for this débauché Francueil.</p>
<p>As she enjoyed absolute liberty, her lover paid his respects
to her at Epinay; there he inaugurated amusements
and took his friends. It was he who suggested the erection
of a theatre at which her friends' productions might
be offered to the world of critics. Through his efforts,
the great men who made her salon famous were gathered
at "La Chevrette," where the actors and players soon
drew the attention of literary Paris. After a year or two
of attachment, Francueil became indifferent to Mme.
d'Epinay and transferred his affections to an actress—the
sister of M. d'Epinay's mistress. Thus runs the story of
the life of the average married woman. If she remained
virtuous, she usually became resigned to her fate and lived
happily; if she undertook to imitate her husband's tactics,
she fell from the good graces of one lover to those of
another, ending her life in absolute wretchedness.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page261" id="page261"></a>[pg 261]</span>
<p>These two men—the lover and the husband—carried on
with two sisters their licentious living and extravagances
to such an extent that the injured wife demanded a separation
of her fortune from that of her husband, in which
project her father-in-law aided her and gave her thirteen
thousand francs income. Mme. d'Epinay, in the midst of
success, became acquainted with Mlle. Quinault, the
daughter of the famous actor of the time, and herself a
great actress. This woman invited Mme. d'Epinay to her
so-called salon, which was, possibly, the most licentious
and irreligious of the salons then in vogue, where she
met Duclos, with whom she immediately formed a strong friendship.</p>
<p>After the death of M. de Bellegarde, her wealth was
considerably increased, a piece of good fortune which enabled
her to carry out all her plans. It was at this time,
1755, that she induced Rousseau to live in her cottage,
"l'Hermitage;" and for about two years she enjoyed perfect
happiness with him. By a peculiar freak of fate she
fell in with Grimm, who was introduced to her by Rousseau
and who had, for some time, been on the hunt for a
"faithful mistress." This German by birth, but Frenchman
in spirit, had championed her at a dinner, where she
was the object of the severest reproach. She had burned
the papers of her sister, Mme. de Jully, who had betrayed
an honest husband. Stricken with smallpox, just before
dying, she confessed all to Mme. d'Epinay. The latter
owed Mme. de Jully fifty écus and the note was among
the papers of Mme. de Jully. Mme. d'Epinay was accused
of having burned the note to which it was asserted
she had access; and Grimm undertook to plead her cause,
an act which so elated madame that she turned all her affection
upon her defender, whereupon Rousseau departed.
Later on, the note having been found, Mme. d'Epinay was
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page262" id="page262"></a>[pg 262]</span>
completely vindicated. Grimm then became her third lover.</p>
<p>This third marriage, so to speak, was one of reason; the
first was one of mere emancipation; the second, one of
passion and genuine love. In 1755, worn out physically,
she took a trip to Switzerland, to be treated by the famous
Dr. Tronchin; there she became so ill that Grimm was
summoned. They remained together for about two years,
and after her return to Paris she reopened her salon of
"La Chevrette." Her reunions partook more of the nature
of our house parties; the salon was an immense room,
in which the members would pair off and divert themselves
as they pleased; in that respect "La Chevrette"
was unique. After her fortune, which at one time was
quite large, became diminished, partly through her own
extravagance and partly through that of her son, who was
the very counterpart of his father, she was forced to rent
"La Chevrette" and, later on, "La Briche," where she
had opened her second salon.</p>
<p>The last years of her life she spent in Paris with Grimm.
She had reached such a physical condition that her sufferings
could be relieved only by the use of opium. Financial
relief came to her in 1783, when the Academy awarded
her the Montyon prize, then given for the first time, for
her <i>Conversations d'Emilie</i>. She died in the same year,
surrounded by her dearest friends—Grimm, M. and Mme.
Belgunce, and Mme. d'Houdetot.</p>
<p>Mme. d'Epinay, in many respects, was a remarkable
woman. Amid all her social duties, with all her physical
and mental troubles, she found time to help others and to
manage her own business affairs and those of her children,
took an active interest in art, music, and literature, raised,
with the utmost care, her granddaughter, produced one of
the best works of the time for children, made tapestry,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page263" id="page263"></a>[pg 263]</span>
and wrote innumerable letters. Her fortune was lost
through the reforms of Necker.</p>
<p>She was not a beautiful woman; but she was distinguished
by a small, thin figure, an abundance of rich dark hair,
which brought out in striking relief the peculiar whiteness
of her skin, and large brown eyes. Her five lovers she
called her five bears: Rousseau, Grimm, Desmoulin, Saint-Lambert,
Gauffecourt. An epistle to Grimm begins thus;</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"Moi, de cinq ours la souveraine,</p>
<p>Qui leur donne et present des lois,</p>
<p>Faut-il que je sois à la fois</p>
<p>Et votre esclave et votre reine,</p>
<p>O des tyrans le plus tyran?"</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>[I, sovereign over five bears,</p>
<p>Who give and prescribe laws for them—</p>
<p>Must I be your slave and queen at the same time,</p>
<p>O among tyrants, the greatest?]</p>
</div> </div>
<p>As far as the care of the education of her children is concerned,
with its sacrifice and real application to duty, she
was sometimes called—and not unadvisedly—the type of
the ideal mother. From 1757 on her ideas and thoughts ran
to education. Her friends were all of the philosophical
trend, and intellectual labor was their chief pleasure. After
having passed through a career of excitement and love's
caprices, she longed for a peaceful, quiet existence; at that
point, however, her health gave way, and she entered upon
a new territory at Geneva. There she conquered Voltaire,
who was profuse with his compliments and kindnesses.
Upon her return she became the recognized leader
or champion of the philosophic and foreign group and the
Encyclopædists, and was regarded as the central figure
of the philosophical movement in general.</p>
<p>The ideas of the philosophers had been gaining ground,
and were disseminated through all classes. The mere
love of pleasure and luxury at first found under Louis XV.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page264" id="page264"></a>[pg 264]</span>
gave way to more serious reflections when society was
confronted with those all-important questions which finally
culminated in the Revolution. The salon of Mme. d'Epinay
grew to be the most important and, intellectually, the most
brilliant of the time. Rousseau, Diderot, Helvétius, Duclos,
Suard, the Abbés Galiani, Raynal, the Florentine
physician Gatti, Comte de Schomberg, Chevalier de Chastellux,
Saint-Lambert, Marquis de Croixmare, the different
ambassadors, counts and princes, were frequent visitors
In this brilliant circle her letters from Voltaire, read aloud,
were always eagerly awaited. Such dramas as Voltaire's
<i>Tancred</i>, Diderot's <i>Le Père de Famille</i>, were given under
her patronage and discussed in her salon; after the performance
she entertained all the friends at supper.</p>
<p>Upon the departure of Abbé Galiani from Paris, Mme.
d'Epinay and Diderot were intrusted with the revision and
printing of his famous <i>Dialogues sur les Blés</i>; Grimm left
to them the continuance of his <i>Correspondance Littéraire</i>.
She was known for her wonderful analytical ability and
her keen power of observation—faculties which won the
esteem and respect of such men and caused her collaboration
to be anxiously sought by them; however, she never
attempted to rival them in their particular sphere. In her
writings she displayed a reactionary tendency against the
educational methods of the day, her chief work of real
literary worth being mostly in the form of sound advice to
a child. Being a reasonable, careful, and sensible woman,—in
spite of the defects in her moral life,—she desired to
show the possibilities of a moral revolution against the
habits and customs of the time, of which she herself had
been a most unfortunate victim. She was relieved of
actual want by means of this work, which gained for her
a pension from Catherine II. of Russia, who adopted
her methods for her own children, and the award of the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page265" id="page265"></a>[pg 265]</span>
Montyon prize, which was given her in a competition with a
large number of aspirants, the most famous of whom was
Mme. de Genlis. It was her ability to gain and retain the
respect of great men which won that honor for her.</p>
<p>The memoirs of Mme. d'Epinay leave one of the most
accurate and faithful pictures of the polished society of the
France of about 1750. "Her salon was the centre about
which circled the greatest activity; it was filled with men
who ordered events, thinkers whose minds were bent upon
untangling the knotty problems of the age; it was her
salon, more than any other, that quickened the philosophical
movement of the day. Mme. d'Epinay made her
reputation not so much through her <i>esprit</i>, intelligence, or
beauty, possibly, as through the strength of her affection.
Timid, irresolute, and highly impressionable, and amiable
in disposition, she was constantly influenced by circumstances—a
quality which led her on to the two principal
occupations of her later life, education and philosophy.
To-day, her name is recalled principally for its association
with that of Rousseau, whose mistress and benefactress
she was; it is to her that the world owes his famous <i>Nouvelle Héloïse</i>.</p>
<p>The last of the great literary and social leaders of the
eighteenth century was Mme. de Genlis, a prodigy in every
respect, an amateur performer upon nearly every instrument,
an authority on intellectual matters as well, a fine
story teller, a consummate artist, entertainer, and general
charmer. Authoress, governess of Louis-Philippe, councillor
of Bonaparte, her success as a social leader established
her reputation and places her in the file of great
women, although she was not a salon leader such as Mme.
Geoffrin or Mme. du Deffand.</p>
<p>She was born in 1746, and at a very early age showed
a remarkable talent for music, but her general education
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page266" id="page266"></a>[pg 266]</span>
was much neglected. At the age of about seventeen she
was married to a Comte de Genlis, who had fallen in love
with her on seeing her portrait. As his relatives refused
to welcome the young girl, she was placed in the convent
of Origny, where she remained until 1764, after which
her husband took her to his brother's estate, where they
lived happily for a short time. When, in 1765, she became
a mother, her husband's family became reconciled to his
union, and, later on, took her to court.</p>
<p>Before her marriage, upon the departure of her father
to San Domingo to retrieve his fortunes, her mother had
found an asylum for her at the elegant home of the farmer-general
M. de La Popelinière. This occurred at the time
that Paris was theatre mad, and when great actors and
actresses were the heroes and heroines of society. At
this house the young girl became the central figure in
the theatrical and musical entertainments. After passing
through this schooling, she stood the test of the court
without any difficulty, and completely won the favor of
her husband's family, as well as that of the court ladies
and the members of the other distinguished households
where she was introduced. With an insatiable appetite
for frolics, quite in keeping with the customs of the time,
she plunged into social life with a vigor and an aptitude
which soon attracted attention. She played all sorts of
rôles at the most fashionable houses, "through her consummate
acting and <i>bons mots</i> drawing tears of vexation
from her less gifted sisters. She plays nine instruments,
writes dramas, recasts others, organizes and drills amateurs,
besides attending to a thousand and one other things."</p>
<p>Through the influence of her aunt, Mme. de Montesson,
who was secretly married to the Duke of Orléans, Mme.
de Genlis was appointed lady-in-waiting in the household
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page267" id="page267"></a>[pg 267]</span>
of the Duchesse de Chartres, the duke's daughter-in-law,
whose salon was celebrated in Paris. She soon won the
confidence of the duchess, and became her confessor, secretary,
guide, and oracle, but did not abandon in the least
her pursuit of pleasure. She even took possession of
the heart of the duke himself, and in 1782 was made
"<i>gouverneur</i>" to his children, the Duc de Valois, later
Louis-Philippe, the Duc de Montpensier, the Comte de
Beaujolais, and Mlle. Adelaïde; for the education of her
pupils she had the use of several châteaux. Many a
piquant epigram and chanson were composed for the edification
of the "<i>gouverneur</i>." It is said that she acted as
panderer for the princes, especially Louis-Philippe, of a
"legitimate means of satisfying these ardent desires of
which I am being devoured," by leading them to the nuns
in the convents by means of a subterranean passage. The
following passages from the journal of Louis-Philippe show
the nature of his relations with her:</p>
<p>(December, 1790.) "I went to dine with my mother
and grandfather. Although I am delighted to dine often
with my mother, I am deeply sorry to give only three
days out of the seven to my dear Bellechasse [that is, to Mme. de Genlis]."</p>
<p>(January, 1791.) "Last evening, returned to my friend
[Mme. de Genlis]; remained there until after midnight; I
was the first one to have the good fortune of wishing her
a 'Happy New Year.' Nothing can make me happier; I
don't know what will become of me when I am no longer with her."</p>
<p>(January, 1791.) "Yesterday, I was at the Tuileries.
The queen spoke to my father, to my brother, and said
nothing to me—neither did the king nor Monsieur, in fact,
no one. I remained at my friend's until half-past twelve.
No one in the world is so agreeable to me as is she."
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page268" id="page268"></a>[pg 268]</span>
(February, 1791.) "I was at the assembly at Bellechasse,
dined at the Palais-Royal, I was at the Jacobins,
returned to Bellechasse, after supper went to my friend's.
I remained with her alone; she treated me with an infinite
kindness; I left, the happiest man in the world." Such
language speaks for itself.</p>
<p>No sons of a nobleman ever received a finer, more typically
modern education than did her pupils. She was,
possibly, the first teacher to use the natural method system,
teaching German, English, and Italian by conversation.
The boys were compelled to act, in the park, the
voyages of Vasco da Gama; in the dining room the great
historical tableaux were presented; in the theatre, built
especially for them, they acted all the dramas of the
<i>Théâtre d'Education</i>. She taught them how to make portfolios,
ribbons, wigs, pasteboard work, to gild, to turn,
and to do carpentering. They visited museums and manufactories,
during which expeditions they were taught to observe,
criticise, and find defects. This was the first step
taken in France in the eighteenth century toward a modern
education. Although it was superficial, in consequence of
its great breadth, yet this education inculcated manliness and courage.</p>
<p>In 1778 Mme. de Genlis published her moral teachings
in <i>Adèle et Théodore</i>, a work which created quite a little
talk at the time, but which eventually brought upon her
the condemnation of the philosophers and Encyclopædists,
because in it she opposed liberty of conscience. When,
on the occasion of the first communion of the Duc de
Valois, she wrote her <i>Religion Considered as the Only True
Foundation of Happiness and of True Philosophy</i>, all the
Palais-Royal place hunters, philosophers, and her political
enemies, in a mass, opposed and ridiculed her. Rivarol
declared that she had no sex, that heaven had refused the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page269" id="page269"></a>[pg 269]</span>
magic of talent to her productions, as it had refused the
charm of innocence to her childhood.</p>
<p>One of the best portraits of her is in the memoirs of
the Baroness d'Oberkirch (it was she who disturbed Mme.
de Genlis and the Duc d'Orléans while they were walking
in the gardens one night):</p>
<p>"I did not like her, in spite of her accomplishments and
the charm of her conversation; she was too systematic.
She is a woman who has laid aside the flowing robes of
her sex for the costume of a pedagogue. Besides, nothing
about her is natural; she is constantly in an attitude, as it
were, thinking that her portrait—physical or moral—is
being taken by someone. One of the great follies of this
masculine woman is her harp, which she carries about
with her; she speaks about it when she hasn't it—she
plays on a crust of bread and practises with a thread.
When she perceives that someone is looking at her, she
rounds her arm, purses up her mouth, assumes a sentimental
expression and air, and begins to move her fingers.
Gracious! what a fine thing naturalness is!... I
spent a delightful evening at the Comtesse de La Massais's;
she had hired musicians whom she paid dear; but
Mme. de Genlis sat in the centre of the assembly, commanded,
talked, commented, sang, and would have put
the entire concert in confusion, had not the Marquise de
Livry very drolly picked a quarrel with her about her
harp, which she had brought to her. Decidedly, this
young D'Orléans has a singular governor. She holds too
closely to her rôle, and never forgets her <i>jupons</i> [skirts]
except when she ought most to remember them."</p>
<p>During her visit to England she was petted by everyone;
but even in England there was a widespread prejudice
against her—a feeling which the mere sight of her immediately
dissipated. An English lady wrote about her:</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page270" id="page270"></a>[pg 270]</span>
<p>"I saw her at first with a prejudice in her disfavor,
from the cruel reports I had heard; but the moment I
looked at her it was removed. There was a dignity with
her sweetness and a frankness with her modesty, that
convinced me, beyond all power of contrary report, of her
real worth and innocence."</p>
<p>During the Revolution Mme. de Genlis travelled about
Switzerland, Germany, and England. At Berlin, owing
to her poverty, she supported herself by writing, making
trinkets, and teaching, until she was recalled to France,
under the Consulate. In Paris she produced some of her
best works—although they were written to order. Napoleon
gave her a pension of six thousand francs and handsome
apartments at the Arsenal. To this liberal pension,
the wife of his brother, Joseph Bonaparte, added three thousand francs.</p>
<p>From Mme. de Genlis, Napoleon received a letter fortnightly,
in which epistle she communicated to him her
opinions and observations upon politics and current events.
Upon the return to power of the Orléans family, she was
put off with a meagre pension. Like many other French
women, she became more and more melancholy and misanthropic.
She was unable to control her wrath against
the philosophers and some of the contemporary writers,
such as Lamartine, Mme. de Staël, Scott, and Byron. Her
death, in 1830, was announced in these words: "Mme. de
Genlis has ceased to write—which is to announce her death."</p>
<p>Throughout life she was so generous that as soon as
she received her pensions, presents, or earnings from her
work, the money was distributed among the poor. When
she died, she left nothing but a few worn and homely
dresses and articles of furniture. The diversity of her
works and her conduct, the politics in which she was
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page271" id="page271"></a>[pg 271]</span>
steeped, the satires, the perfidious accusations that have
pursued her, have contributed to leave of her a rather
doubtful portrait; however, those who have written bitterly
against her have done so mostly from personal or
political animosity. She was so many-sided—a reformer,
teacher, pietist, politician, actress—that a true estimate
of her character is difficult. A woman of all tastes and of
various talents, she was a living encyclopædia and mistress
of all arts of pleasing. She had studied medicine,
and took special delight in the art of bleeding, which she
practised upon the peasants, each one of whom she would
present with thirty sous (thirty cents), after the bleeding—and
she never lacked patients. Mme. de Genlis was
an expert rider and huntress; also, she was graceful, with
an elegant figure, great affability, and a talent for quickly
and accurately reading character; and these gifts were
stepping-stones to popularity.</p>
<p>She wrote incessantly, on all things, essaying every
style, every subject. "She has discoursed for the education
of princes and of lackeys; prepared maxims for the
throne and precepts for the pantry; you might say she
possessed the gift of universality. She was gifted with a
singular confidence in her own abilities, infinite curiosity,
untiring industry, and never-ending and inexhaustible energy.
She wrote nearly as much as Voltaire, and barely
excelled him in the amount of unreadable work, which, if
printed, would fill over one hundred volumes."</p>
<p>"Let us remember," says Mr. Dobson, "her indefatigable
industry and untiring energy, her kindness to her relatives
and admirers, her courage and patience when in exile and
poverty, her great talent, perseverance, and rare facility."
In protesting vigorously against the universal neglect of
physical development, against the absence of the gymnasium
and the lack of practical knowledge in the education
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page272" id="page272"></a>[pg 272]</span>
of her time, in advocating the study of modern languages
as a means of culture and discipline, in applying to her
pupils the principles of the modern experimental and observational
education, Mme. de Genlis will retain a place
as one of the great female educators—as a woman pedagogue,
<i>par excellence</i>, of the eighteenth century.</p>
<p>A great number of minor salons existed, which were
partly literary, partly social. From about 1750 to 1780
the amusements varied constantly, from all-day parties in
the country to cafés served by the great women themselves,
from playing proverbs to playing synonyms, from
impromptu compositions to questionable stories, from laughter
to tears, from Blind-man's-buff to Lotto. Some of the
proverbs were quite ingenious and required elaborate
preparations; for example, at one place Mme. de Lauzun
dances with M. de Belgunce, in the simplest kind of a
costume, which represented the proverb: <i>Bonne renommée
vaut mieux que ceinture dorée</i> [A good name is rather to be
chosen than great riches]. Mme. de Marigny danced with
M. de Saint-Julien as a negro, passing her handkerchief
over her face in the various figures of the dance, meaning
<i>A laver la tête d'un More on perd sa lessive</i> [To wash a
blackamoor white].</p>
<p>Among the social salons, the finest was the Temple of
the Prince de Conti and his mistress, the Countess de
Boufflers. It was a salon of pleasure, liberty, and unceremonious
intimacy; his <i>thés à l'anglaise</i> were served by the
great ladies themselves, attired in white aprons. The exclusive
and élite of the social world made up his company.
The most elegant assembly was that of the Maréchale de
Luxembourg; it will be considered later on. The salon of
Mme. de Beauvau rivalled that of the Maréchale de Luxembourg;
she was mistress of elegance and propriety, an
authority on and model of the usages of society. A manner
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page273" id="page273"></a>[pg 273]</span>
perhaps superior to that of any other woman, gave Mme. de
Beauvau a particular <i>politesse</i> and constituted her one of
the women who contributed most to the acceptance of Paris
as the capital of Europe, by well-bred people of all countries.
Her <i>politesse</i> was kind and without sarcasm, and,
by her own naturalness, she communicated ease. She
was not beautiful, but had a frank and open expression
and a marvellous gift of conversation, which was her delight
and in which she gloried. Her salon was conspicuous
for its untarnished honor and for the example it set of a pure conjugal love.</p>
<p>The salon of Mme. de Grammont, at Versailles, was
visited at all hours of the day and night by the highest
officials, princes, lords, and ladies. It had activity, authority,
the secret doors, veiled and redoubtable depths of a
salon of the mistress of a king. Everybody went there
for counsel, submitted plans, and confided projects to this
lady who had willingly exiled herself from Paris.</p>
<p>The house of M. de La Popelinière, at Passy, was noted
for its unique entertainment; there the celebrated Gossec
and Gaïffre conducted the concerts, Deshayes, master of
the ballet at the Comédie-Italienne, managed the amusements.
It was a house like a theatre and with all the
requisites of the latter; there artists and men of letters,
virtuosos and <i>danseuses</i>, ate, slept, and lodged as in a hotel.
With Mme. de Blot, mistress of the Duke of Orléans, as
hostess, the Palais-Royal ranked next to the Temple of
the Prince de Conti; it was open only to those who were
presented; after that ceremony, all those who were thus
introduced could, without invitation, dine there on all days
of the Grand Opera. On the <i>petits jours</i> a select twenty
gathered, who, when once invited, were so for all time.
The "Salon de Pomone," of Mme. de Marchais, received
its name from Mme. du Deffand on account of the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page274" id="page274"></a>[pg 274]</span>
exquisite fruits and magnificent flowers which the hostess
cultivated and distributed among her friends.</p>
<p>"La Paroisse," of Mme. Doublet de Persan, was the
salon of the sceptics and was under the constant surveillance
of the police. All the members arrived at the same
time and each took possession of the armchair reserved
for him, above which hung his portrait. On a large stand
were two registers, in which the rumors of the day were
noted—in one the doubtful, in the other the accredited.
On Saturday, a selection was made, which went to the
<i>Grand Livre</i>, which became a journal entitled <i>Nouvelles à
la Main</i>, kept by the <i>valet-de-chambre</i> of Mme. Doublet.
This book furnished the substance of the six volumes of
the <i>Mémoires Secrets</i>, which began to appear in 1770.</p>
<p>Besides these salons of the nobility, there were those of
the financiers, a profession which had risen into prominence
within the last half century, after the death of
Louis XIV. According to the Goncourt brothers, the
greatest of these salons was that of Mme. de Grimrod de
La Reynière, who, by dint of shrewd manœuvring, by
unheard-of extravagances, excessive opulence in the furnishings
of her salon, and by the most gorgeous and rare
fêtes and suppers, had succeeded in attracting to her
establishment a number of the court and nobility.</p>
<p>The salon of M. de La Popelinière belonged to this
class, although he was ranked, more or less, among
the nobility. There were the weekly suppers of Mme.
Suard, Mme. Saurin, the Abbé Raynal, and the luncheons
of the Abbé Morellet on the first Sunday of the month; to
the latter functions were invited all the celebrities of the
other salons, as well as artists and musicians—it was there
that the famous quarrel of the Gluck and Piccini parties
originated. The Tuesday dinners of Helvétius became
famous; it was at them that Franklin was one of the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page275" id="page275"></a>[pg 275]</span>
favorites; after the death of Helvétius, he attempted in
vain to put an end to the widowhood of madame. No
man at that time was more popular than Franklin or had
as much public attention shown him.</p>
<p>There were a number of celebrated women whose reputations
rest mainly on their wit and conversational abilities;
they may be classed as society leaders, to distinguish them from salon leaders.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page277" id="page277"></a>[pg 277]</span>
<h2>Chapter X</h2>
<h2>Social Classes</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page279" id="page279"></a>[pg 279]</span>
<p>The belief generally prevails that devotion and constancy
did not exist among French women of the eighteenth
century; but, in spite of the very numerous instances of
infidelity which dot the pages of the history of the French
matrimonial relations of those days, many examples of
rare devotion are found, even among the nobility. Love
of the king and self-eliminating devotion to him were feelings
to which women aspired; yet we have one countess,
the Countess of Perigord, who, true to her wifehood, repels
the advances of the king, preferring a voluntary exile
to the dishonor of a life of royal favors and attentions.
There is also the example of Mme. de Trémoille; having
been stricken with smallpox, she was ministered to by
her husband, who voluntarily shared her fate and died with her.</p>
<p>It would seem that the highest types of devotion are to
be found in the families of the ministers and men of state,
where the wife was intimately associated with the fortune
and the success of her husband. The Marquis de Croisy
and his wife were married forty years; M. and Mme. de
Maurepas lived together for fifty years, without being
separated one day. Instances are many in which reconciliations
were effected after years of unfaithfulness; these
seldom occurred, however, until the end of life was near.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page280" id="page280"></a>[pg 280]</span>
The normal type of married life among the higher classes
still remained one of most ideal and beautiful devotion, in
spite of the great number of exceptions.</p>
<p>It must be observed that in the middle class the young
girl grew up with the mother and was given her most
tender care; surrounded with wholesome influences, she
saw little or nothing of the world, and, the constant companion
of her mother, developed much like the average
young girl of to-day. At the age of about eleven she was
sent to a convent, where—after having spent some time
in the <i>pension</i>, where instruction in religion was given her—she
was instructed by the sisters for one year.</p>
<p>After her confirmation and her first communion, and the
home visits to all the relatives, she was placed in a <i>maison
religieuse</i>, where the sisters taught the daughters of the
common people free of charge. The young girl was also
taught dancing, music, and other accomplishments of a
like nature, but there was nothing of the feverish atmosphere
of the convent in which the daughters of the nobility
were reared; these institutions for the middle classes were
peaceful, silent, and calm, fostering a serenity and quietude.
The days passed quickly, the Sundays being eagerly
looked forward to because of the visits of the parents, who
took their daughters for drives and walks and indulged
them in other innocent diversions. Such a life had its
after effects: the young girls grew up with a taste for
system, discipline, piety, and for a rigid devotion, which
often led them to an instinctive need of doctrine and sacrifice;
consequently, in later life many turned to Jansenism.</p>
<p>However, the young girls of this class who were not
thus educated, because their assistance was required at
home, received an early training in social as well as in
domestic affairs; they had a solid and practical, if uncouth,
foundation, combined with a worldly and, often, a frivolous
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page281" id="page281"></a>[pg 281]</span>
temperament. To them many privileges were opened:
they were taken to the opera, to concerts and to balls, to
the salons of painting, and it often happened that they developed
a craving for the society to which only the nobly
born demoiselle was admitted. When this craving went
too far, it frequently led to seduction by some of the
chevaliers who make seduction a profession.</p>
<p>The marriage customs in these circles differed little from
those of to-day. The suitor asked permission to call and
to continue his visits; then followed the period of present
giving. The young girl was almost always absolute mistress
of the decision; if the father presented a name, the
daughter insisted upon seeing, receiving, and becoming
intimately acquainted with the suitor, a custom quite different
from that practised among the nobility. Instead of
giving her rights as it did the girl of the nobility, marriage
imposed duties upon the girl of the middle class; it closed
the world instead of opening it to her; it ended her brilliant,
gay, and easy life, instead of beginning it, as was
the case in the higher classes. This she realized, therefore
hesitated long before taking the final step which was to bind her until death.</p>
<p>With her, becoming a wife meant infinitely more than it
did to the girl of the nobility; her husband had the management
of her money, and his vices were visited upon
her and her children—in short, he became her master in
all things. These disadvantages she was taught to consider
deeply before entering the marriage state.</p>
<p>This state of affairs developed distinctive physiognomies
in the different classes of the middle-class society: thus,
"the wives of the financiers are dignified, stern, severe;
those of the merchants are seductive, active, gossiping,
and alert; those of the artists are free, easy, and independent,
with a strong taste for pleasure and gayety—and
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page282" id="page282"></a>[pg 282]</span>
they give the tone." As we approach the end of the
century, the <i>bourgeoisie</i> begins to assume the airs, habits,
extravagances, and even the immoralities, of the higher classes.</p>
<p>Below the <i>bourgeoise</i> was the workingwoman, whose
ideas were limited to those of a savage and who was a
woman only in sex. Her ideas of morality, decency,
conjugal happiness, children, education, were limited by
quarrels, profanity, blows, fights. At that time brandy
was the sole consolation for those women; it supplied their
moral force and their moral resistance, making them forget
cold, hunger, fatigue, evil, and giving them courage and
patience; it was the fire that sustained, comforted, and incited them.</p>
<p>These women were not much above the level of animals,
but from them, we find, often sprang the entertainers of
the time, the queens of beauty and gallantry—Laguerre,
D'Hervieux, Sophie Arnould. Having lost their virtue
with maturity, these women had no sense of morality; in
them, nothing preserved the sense of honor—their religion
consisted of a few superstitious practices. The constituents
of duty and the virtue of women they could only
vaguely guess; marriage itself was presented to them
under the most repugnant image of constant contention.</p>
<p>It was in such an atmosphere as this that the daughters
of these women grew up. Their talents found opportunity
for display at the public dances where some of them
would in time attract especial attention. Some became
opera singers, dancers, or actresses, and were very popular;
others became influential, and, through the efforts of
some lover, allured about them a circle of ambitious
<i>débauchés</i> or aspirants for social favors. Through their
adventures they made their way up in the world to high society.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page283" id="page283"></a>[pg 283]</span>
<p>From this element of prostitution was disentangled, to a
large extent, the great gallantry of the eighteenth century.
This was accomplished by adding an elegance to debauch,
by clothing vice with a sort of grandeur, and by adorning
scandal with a semblance of the glory and grace of the
courtier of old. Possessing the fascination of all gifts,
prodigalities, follies, with all the appetites and tendencies
of the time, these women attracted the society of the
period—the poets, the artists, even the scientists, the philosophers,
and the nobility. Their reputation increased
with the number and standing of their lovers. The
genius of the eighteenth century circled about these street
belles—they represented the fortune of pleasure.</p>
<p>As the church would not countenance the marriage of
an actress, she was forced to renounce the theatre when
she would marry, but once married a permit to return to
the stage was easily obtained. Society was not so severe
as the laws; it received actresses, sought out, and even
adored them; it received the women of the stage as equals,
and many of them were married by counts and dukes,
given a title, and presented at court. The regular type
of the prostitute was tolerated and even received by
society; "a word of anger, malediction, or outrage, was
seldom raised against these women: on the contrary, pity
and the commiseration of charity and tenderness were felt
for them and manifested." This was natural, for many of
them—through notoriety—reached society and, as mistresses
of the king, even the throne itself. "If such
women as Mme. de Pompadour were esteemed, what
principles remained in the name of which to judge without
pity and to condemn the <i>débauchés</i> of the street," says
Mme. de Choiseul, one of the purest of women.</p>
<p>This class usually created and established the styles.
There is a striking contrast between the standards of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page284" id="page284"></a>[pg 284]</span>
beauty and fashions of the respective periods of Louis XIV.
and Louis XV.: "The stately figure, rich costume, awe-inspiring
peruke of the magnificent Louis XIV.—the satins,
velvets, embroideries, perfumes, and powder of the indolent
and handsome Louis XV., well illustrate the two
epochs." The beauty of the Louis XIV. age was more
serious, more imposing, imperial, classic; later in the
eighteenth century, under Louis XV., she developed into
a charming figure of <i>finesse, sveltesse et gracilité</i>, with
an extremely delicate complexion, a small mouth and thin
nose, as opposed to the strong, plump mouth and <i>nez léonin</i>
(leonine nose). More animated, the face was all movement,
the eyes talked; the <i>esprit</i> passed to the face. It
was the type of Marivaux' comedies, with an <i>esprit mobile</i>,
animated and colored by all the coquetries of grace.</p>
<p>Later in the century, the very opposite type prevailed;
the aspiration then became to leave an emotion ungratified
rather than to seduce; a languishing expression was cultivated;
women sought to sweeten the physiognomy, to
make it tender and mild. The style of beauty changed
from the brunette with brown eyes—so much in vogue
under Louis XV., to the blonde with blue eyes under
Louis XVI. Even the red which formerly "dishonored
France," became a favorite. To obtain the much admired
pale complexion, women had themselves bled; their dress
corresponded to their complexion, light materials and pure
white being much affected.</p>
<p>In these three stages of the development of beauty,
fashion changed to harmonize with the popular style in
beauty. In general, styles were influenced by an important
event of the day: thus, when Marie Leczinska, introduced
the fad of quadrilles, there were invented ribbons
called "quadrille of the queen"; and many other fads
originated in the same way. French taste and fashions
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page285" id="page285"></a>[pg 285]</span>
travelled over entire Europe; all Europe was <i>à la française</i>,
yoked and laced in French styles, French in art, taste,
industry. The domination of the French <i>Galerie des
Modes</i> was due to the inventive minds of French women
in relation to everything pertaining to headdress, to
detailed and delicate arrangements of every phase of ornamentation.</p>
<p>Every country had, in Paris, its agents who eagerly
waited for the appearance of the famous doll of the Rue
Saint-Honoré; this figure was an exponent of the latest
fashions and inventions, and, changing continually, was
watched and copied by all Europe. Alterations in style
frequently originated at the supper of a mistress, in the box
of a dancer or in the atelier of a fine modiste; therefore,
in that respect, that century differed little from the present
one. Trade depended largely upon foreign patronage.
Fortunes were made by the modistes, who were the
great artists of the day and who set the fashion; but
the hairdresser and shoemaker, also, were artists, as
was seen, at least in name, and were as impertinent as prosperous.</p>
<p>An interesting illustration of the change of fashion is
the following anecdote: In 1714, at a supper of the king,
at Versailles, two English women wore low headdress,
causing a scandal which came near costing them their
dismissal. The king happened to mention that if French
women were reasonable, they would not dress otherwise.
The word was spread, and the next day, at the king's
mass the ladies all wore their hair like the English women,
regardless of the laughter of the women who, being absent
the previous evening, had their hair dressed high. The
compliment of the king as he was leaving mass, to the
ladies with the low headdress, caused a complete change in the mode.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page286" id="page286"></a>[pg 286]</span>
<p>It now remains but to illustrate these various classes
by types—by women who have become famous. The
Duchesse de Boufflers, Maréchale de Luxembourg, was
the woman who most completely typified the spirit and
tone of the eighteenth-century <i>classique</i> in everything that
belonged to the ancient régime which passed away with
the society of 1789. She was the daughter of the Duc de
Villeroy, and married the Duc de Boufflers in 1721; after
the death of the latter in 1747, and after having been the
mistress of M. de Luxembourg for several years, she married
him in 1750. Her youth was like that of most women
of the social world. A <i>savante</i> in intrigues at court, present
at all suppers, bouts, and pleasure trips as lady-of-the-palace
to the queen, intriguing constantly, holding her
own by her sharp wit, in a society of <i>roués et élégants
enervés</i> she soon became a leader. Mme. du Deffand left
a striking portrait of her:</p>
<p>"Mme. la Duchesse de Boufflers is beautiful without
having the air of suspecting it. Her physiognomy is keen
and piquant, her expression reveals all the emotions of
her soul—she does not have to say what she thinks, one
guesses it. Her gestures are so natural and so perfectly
in accord with what she says, that it is difficult not to be
led to think and feel as she does. She dominates wherever
she is, and she always makes the impression she desires
to make. She makes use of her advantages almost like a
god—she permits us to believe that we have a free will
while she determines us. In general, she is more feared
than loved. She has much <i>esprit</i> and gayety. She is
constant in her engagements, faithful to her friends, truthful,
discreet, generous. If she were more clairvoyant or
if men were less ridiculous, they would find her perfect."</p>
<p>On one occasion M. de Tressan composed this famous couplet:</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page287" id="page287"></a>[pg 287]</span>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p>"Quand Boufflers parut à la cour,</p>
<p>On crut voir la mère d'Amour,</p>
<p>Chacun s'empressait à lui plaire,</p>
<p>Et chacun l'avait à son tour."</p>
</div><div class="stanza">
<p>[When Boufflers appeared at court,</p>
<p>The mother of love was thought to be seen,</p>
<p>Everyone became so eager to please her,</p>
<p>And each one had her in his turn.]</p>
</div> </div>
<p>One day Mme. de Boufflers mumbled this before M. de
Tressan, saying to him: "Do you know the author? It
is so beautiful that I would not only pardon her, but I believe
I would embrace her." Whereupon he stammered:
<i>Eh bien! c'est moi.</i> She quickly dealt him two vigorous
slaps in the face. All feared her; no one equalled her in
skill and shrewdness, or in knowing and handling men.</p>
<p>After her marriage to the Maréchal de Luxembourg,
she decided, about 1750, to open a salon in Paris; it
became one of the real forces of the eighteenth century,
socially and politically. While her husband lived, she did
not enjoy the freedom she desired; after his death in 1764
she was at liberty to do as she pleased, and she then
began her career as a judge and counsellor in all social
matters. She was regarded as the oracle of taste and
urbanity, exercised a supervision over the tone and usage
of society, was the censor of <i>la bonne compagnie</i> during
the happy years of Louis XVI. This power in her was
universally recognized. She tempered the Anglomania of
the time, all excesses of familiarity and rudeness; she
never uttered a bad expression, a coarse laugh or a <i>tutoiement</i>
(thee and thou). The slightest affectation in tone
or gesture was detected and judged by her. She preserved
the good tone of society and permitted no contamination.
She retarded the reign of clubs, retained the urbanity
of French society, and preserved a proper and unique
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page288" id="page288"></a>[pg 288]</span>
character in the <i>ancien salon français</i>, in the way of
excellence of tone.</p>
<p>The Marquise de Rambouillet, Mme. de La Fayette,
Mme. de Maintenon, Mme. de Caylus, and Mme. de
Luxembourg are of the same type—the same world, with
little variance and no decadence; in some respects, the
last may be said to have approached nearest to perfection.
"In her, the turn of critical and caustic severity was exempt
from rigidity and was accompanied by every charm
and pleasingness in her person. She often judged [a person]
by [his] ability at repartee, which she tested by
embarrassing questions across the table, judging [the
person] by the reply. She herself was never at a loss
for an answer: when shown two portraits—one of Molière
and one of La Fontaine—and asked which was the greater,
she answered: 'That one,' pointing to La Fontaine, 'is
more perfect in a <i>genre</i> less perfect.'"</p>
<p>By the Goncourt brothers, her salon has been given its
merited credit: "The most elegant salon was that of the
Maréchale de Luxembourg, one of the most original women
of the time. She showed an originality in her judgments,
she was authority in usage, a genius in taste. About her
were pleasure, interest, novelty, letters; here was formed
the true elegance of the eighteenth century—a society
that held sway over Europe until 1789. Here was formed
the greatest institution of the time, the only one that survived
till the Revolution, that preserved—in the discredit
of all moral laws—the authority of one law, <i>la parfaite
bonne compagnie</i>, whose aim was a social one—to distinguish
itself from bad company, vulgar and provincial
society, by the perfection of the means of pleasing, by
the delicacy of friendship, by the art of considerations,
complaisances, of <i>savoir vivre</i>, by all possible researches
and refinements of <i>esprit</i>. It fixed everything—usages,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page289" id="page289"></a>[pg 289]</span>
etiquette, tone of conversation; it taught how to praise
without bombast and insipidness, to reply to a compliment
without disdaining or accepting it, to bring others to
value without appearing to protect them; it prevented all
slander. If it did not impart modesty, goodness, indulgence,
nobleness of sentiment, it at least imposed the forms,
exacting the appearances and showing the images of them.
It was the guardian of urbanity and maintained all the
laws that are derived from taste. It represented the religion
of honor; it judged, and when it condemned a man he was socially-ruined."</p>
<p>A type of what may be called the social mistress of the
nobility—the personification of good taste, elegance and
propriety such as it should be—was the Comtesse de
Boufflers, mistress of the Prince de Conti, intimate friend
of Hume, Rousseau, and Gustave III., King of Sweden.
The countess was one of the most influential and spirituelle
members of French society, her special mission and
delight being the introduction of foreign celebrities into
French society. She piloted them, was their patroness,
spoke almost all modern languages, and visited her friends
in their respective countries. She was the most travelled
and most hospitable of great French women, hence the
woman best informed upon the world in general.</p>
<p>She was born in Paris in 1725, and in 1746 was married
to the Comte de Boufflers-Rouvrel; soon after, becoming
enamored of the Prince de Conti, she became his
acknowledged mistress. To give an idea of the light in
which the women of that time considered those who were
mistresses of great men, the following episodes may be
cited: One day, Mme. de Boufflers, momentarily forgetting
her relations to the Prince de Conti, remarked that
she scorned a woman who <i>avait un prince du sang</i> (was
mistress of a prince of the blood). When reminded of her
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page290" id="page290"></a>[pg 290]</span>
apparent inconsistency, she said: "I wish to give by
my words to virtue what I take away from it by my
actions...." On another occasion, she reproached
the Maréchale de Mirepoix for going to see Mme. de
Pompadour, and in the heat of argument said: "Why, she
is nothing but the first <i>fille</i> (mistress) of the kingdom!"
The maréchale replied: "Do not force me to count even
unto three" (Mme. de Pompadour, Mlle. Marquise, Mme.
de Boufflers). In those days, the position of mistress of
an important man attracted little more attention than
might a petty, trivial, light-hearted flirtation nowadays.</p>
<p>After the death of M. de Boufflers, in 1764, the all-absorbing
question of society, and one of vital importance
to madame, was, Will the prince marry her? If not, will
she continue to be his mistress? In this critical period,
Hume showed his friendship and true sympathy by giving
Mme. de Boufflers most persuasive and practical advice in
reference to morals—which she did not follow. Her relations
with Rousseau showed her capable of the deepest
and most profound friendship and sympathy. According
to Sainte-Beuve, it was she who, by aid of her friends in
England, procured asylum for him with Hume at Wootton.
When Rousseau's rashness brought on the quarrel which
set in commotion and agitated the intellectual circles of
both continents, Mme. de Boufflers took his part and remained
faithful to him, securing a place for him in the
Château de Trie, which belonged to the Prince de Conti.</p>
<p>All who came in contact with her recognized the distinction,
elevation of <i>esprit</i>, and sentiment of Mme. de Boufflers.
With her are associated the greatest names of the
time; being perfectly at home on all the political questions
of the day, she was better able to converse upon these
subjects than was any other woman of the time. When
in 1762 she visited England, she was lionized everywhere.
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page291" id="page291"></a>[pg 291]</span>
She was fêted at court and in the city, and all conversation
was upon the one subject, that of her presence, which was
one of the important events of London life. Everyone
was anxious to see the famous woman, the first of rank to
visit England in two hundred years. She even received
some special attention from the eccentric Samuel Johnson,
in this manner: "Horace Walpole had taken the countess
to call on Johnson. After the conventional time of a
formal call had expired, they left, and were halfway down
stairs, when it dawned upon Johnson that it was his duty,
as host, to pay the honors of his literary residence to a
foreign lady of quality; to show himself gallant, he jumped
down from the top of the stairway, and, all agitation,
seized the hand of the countess and conducted her to her carriage."</p>
<p>No woman at court had more friends and fewer enemies
than did Mme. de Boufflers, because "she united to the
gifts of nature and the culture of <i>esprit</i> an amiable simplicity, charming
graces, a goodness, kindness, and sensibility,
which made her forget herself always and constantly
seek to aid those about her." She made use of her influence
over the prince in such ways as would, in a measure,
recompense for her fault, and thus recommended herself
by her good actions. She was the soul of his salon, "Le
Temple." The love of these two people, through its intimacy
and public display, through its constancy, happiness,
and decency, dissipated all scandal. Always cheerful and
pleased to amuse, knowing how to pay attention to all,
always rewarding the bright remarks of others with a
smile, which all sought as a mark of approbation, no one
ever wished her any ill fortune.</p>
<p>The last days of the Prince de Conti were cheered by
the presence of Mme. de Boufflers and the friends whom
she gathered about him to help bear his illness. The letter
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page292" id="page292"></a>[pg 292]</span>
to her from Hume, on his deathbed, is most pathetic, showing
the influence of this woman and the nature of the
impression she left upon her friends:</p>
<p class="author">"Edinburgh, 20th of August, 1776.</p>
<p>"Although I am certainly within a few weeks, dear Madame,
and perhaps within a few days, of my own death, I
could not forbear being struck with the death of the Prince
of Conti—so great a loss in every particular. My reflection
carried me immediately to your situation in this melancholy
incident. What a difference to you in your whole
plan of life! Pray write me some particulars, but in such
terms that you need not care, in case of my decease, into
whose hands your letter may fall.... My distemper
is a diarrhœa or disorder in my bowels, which has been
gradually undermining me for these two years, but within
these six months has been visibly hastening me to my end.
I see death approach gradually, without any anxiety or
regret. I salute you with great affection and regard, for the last time.</p>
<p class="author">"<span class="sc">David Hume</span>."</p>
<p>Hume died five days after this letter was written.</p>
<p>The last years of her life she spent with her daughter-in-law,
at Auteuil, where she lived a happy life and received
the best society of Paris. When she died or under
what circumstances is not known. During the Revolution
she lived in obscurity, busying herself with charitable
work; she was one of the few women of the nobility to
escape the guillotine, "This woman, who had kept the
intellectual world alive with her <i>esprit</i> and goodness, of a
sudden vanishes like a star from the horizon; she lives on,
unnoticed by everyone, and, in that new society, no one
misses her or regrets her death."</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page293" id="page293"></a>[pg 293]</span>
<p>In order to fully appreciate the mistress of the eighteenth
century, her power and influence, her rise to popularity
and social standing, the general and accepted idea and
nature of the sentiment called love must be explained; for
it was to the peculiar development of that emotion that the
mistress owed her fortune.</p>
<p>In the eighteenth century love became a theory, a cult;
it developed a language of its own. In the preceding age
love was declared, it spoke, it was a virtue of grandeur
and generosity, of courage and delicacy, exacting all proofs
of decency and gallantry, patient efforts, respect, vows,
discretion, and reciprocal affection. The ideal was one of
heroism, nobleness, and bravery. In the eighteenth century
this ideal became mere desire; love became voluptuousness,
which was to be found in art, music, styles,
fashions—in everything. Woman herself was nothing
more than the embodiment of voluptuousness; it made
her what she was, directing and fashioning her. Every
movement she made, every garment she wore, all the care
she applied to her appearance—all breathed this <i>volupté</i>.</p>
<p>In paintings it was found in impure images, coquettish
immodesties, in couples embraced in the midst of flowers,
in scenes of tenderness: all these representations were
hung in the rooms of young girls, above their beds. They
grew up to know <i>volupté</i>, and, when old enough, they
longed for it. It was useless for women to try to escape
its power, and chastity naturally disappeared under these
temptations. The young girl inherited the impure instincts
of the mother, and, when matured, was ready and eager
for all that could enchant and gratify the senses.</p>
<p>True domestic friendship and intimacy were rare, because
the husband given to a young girl had passed
through a long list of mistresses, and talked—from experience—gallant
confidences which took away the veil of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page294" id="page294"></a>[pg 294]</span>
illusion. She was immediately taken into society, where
she became familiar with the spicy proverbs and the salty
prologues of the theatre, where supposedly decent women
were present, in curtained boxes. At the suppers and
dinners, by songs and plays, at the gatherings where held
forth Duclos and others like him, in the midst of champagne,
<i>ivresse d'esprit</i>, and eloquence, she was taught and
saw the corruption of society and marriage, the disrespect
to modesty; in such an atmosphere all trace of innocence
was destroyed. She was taught that faithfulness to a
husband belonged only to the people, that it was an evidence
of stupidity. Manners, customs, and even religion
were against the preservation of innocence and purity;
and in this depravity the abbés were the leaders.</p>
<p>Such conditions were dangerous and disastrous not to
young girls only, they affected the young men also; the
latter, amidst this social demoralization, developed their
evil tendencies, and, in a few generations, there was
formed a Paris completely debauched. Love meant nothing
more elevated than desire; for man, the paramount
idea was to have or possess; for woman, to capture.
There was no longer any mystery, any secret; the lover
left his carriage at the door of his love, as if to publish his
good fortune; he regularly made his appearance at her
house, at the hour of the toilette, at dinner and at all the
fêtes; the public announcement of the liaison was made at
the theatre when he sat in her box.</p>
<p>There came a period when so-called love fell so low
that woman no longer questioned a man's birth, rank, or
condition, and vice versa, as long as he or she was in
demand; a successful man had nearly every woman of
prominence at his feet. The men planned their attacks
upon the women whom they desired, and the women connived,
posed, and set most ingenious traps and devised
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page295" id="page295"></a>[pg 295]</span>
most extraordinary means to captivate their hero. As the
century wore on and the vices and appetites gradually
consumed the healthy tissues, there sprang up a class of
monsters, most accomplished <i>roués</i>, consummate leaders
of theoretical and practical immorality, who were without
conscience. To gain their ends, they manipulated every
medium—valets, chambermaids, scandal, charity; their one
object was to dishonor woman.</p>
<p>Women were no better; "a natural falseness, an acquired
dissimulation, a profound observation, a lie without
flinching, a penetrating eye, a domination of the
senses—to these they owed their faculties and qualities
so much feared at the time, and which made them
professional and consummate politicians and ministers.
Along with their gallantry, they possessed a calmness,
a tone of liberty, a cynicism; these were their weapons
and deadly ones they were to the man at whom they
were aimed."</p>
<p>There were, in this century, superior women in whom
was exhibited a high form of love, but who realized that
perfect love was impossible in their age; yet they desired
to be loved in an intense and legitimate manner. This
phase of womanhood is well represented by Mlle. Aïssé
and Mlle. de Lespinasse, both of whom felt an irresistible
need of loving; they proclaimed their love and not only
showed themselves to be capable of loving and of intense
suffering, but proved themselves worthy of love which, in
its highest form, they felt to be an unknown quantity at
that time. Their love became a constant inspiration, a
model of devotion, almost a transfiguration of passion.
These women were products of the time; they had to be,
to compensate for the general sterility and barrenness, to
equalize the inequalities, and to pay the tribute of vice
and debauch.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page296" id="page296"></a>[pg 296]</span>
<p>All the customs of the age were arrayed against pure
womanhood and offered it nothing but temptation. Inasmuch
as the husband belonged to court and to war more
than to domestic felicity, he left his wife alone for long
periods. The husbands themselves seemed actually to
enjoy the infidelity of their wives and were often intimate
friends of their wives' lovers; and it was no rare thing
that when the wife found no pleasure in lovers, she did
not concern herself about her husband's mistresses (unless
they were intolerably disagreeable to her), often advising
the mistress as to the best method of winning her husband.</p>
<p>It must be admitted that this separation in marriage,
this reciprocity of liberty, this absolute tolerance, was not
a phase of the eighteenth century marriage, but was the
very character of it. In earlier times, in the sixteenth
century, infidelity was counted as such and caused trouble
in the household. If the husband abused his privileges,
the wife was obliged to bear the insult in silence, being
helpless to avenge it. If she imitated his actions, it was
under the gravest dangers to her own life and that of her
lover. The honor of the husband was closely attached to
the virtue of the wife; thus, if he sought diversion elsewhere,
and his wife fell victim to the fascinations of
another, he was ridiculed. Marriage was but an external
bond; in the eighteenth century, it was a bond only as
long as husband and wife had affection for one another;
when that no longer existed, they frankly told each other
and sought that emotion elsewhere; they ceased to be lovers and became friends.</p>
<p>A very fertile source of so much unfaithfulness was the
frequent marriage of a ruined nobleman to a girl of fortune,
but without rank. Giving her his name was the only
moral obligation; the marriage over and the dowry portion
settled, he pursued his way, considering that he owed
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page297" id="page297"></a>[pg 297]</span>
her no further duty. Very frequently, the husband, overcome
by jealousy or humiliated by the low standard of his
wife who injured or brought ridicule upon his name, would
have her kidnapped and taken to a convent. This right
was enjoyed by the husband in spite of the general liberty
of woman. A letters-patent was obtained through proof of
adultery, and the wife was imprisoned in some convent for
the rest of her life, being deprived of her dowry which fell to her husband.</p>
<p>At one time, the great ambition of woman was to procure
a legal separation—an ambition which seems to have
developed into a fad, for at one period there were over
three hundred applicants for legal separation, a state of
affairs which so frightened Parliament that it passed rigid
laws. A striking contrast to this was the custom connected
with mourning. At the death of the husband, the
wife wore mourning, her entire establishment, with every
article of interior furnishing, was draped in the sombre hue;
she no longer went out and her house was open only to
relatives and those who came to pay visits of condolence.
Unless she married again, she remained in mourning all
her life; but it should not be understood that the veil concealed
her coquetry or prevented her from enjoying her
liberty and planning her future. Then, as to-day, there
were many examples of fanaticism and folly; one widow
would endeavor to commit suicide; another lived with the
figure of her husband in wax; another conversed, for several
hours of the day, with the shade of her husband;
others consecrated themselves to the church.</p>
<p>This all-supreme sway of love and its attributes, left its
impression and lasting effect upon the physiognomy of the
mistress; in the early part of the century, the mistress was
chosen from the respectable aristocracy and the nobility;
gradually, however, the limits of selection were extended
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page298" id="page298"></a>[pg 298]</span>
until they included the <i>bourgeoisie</i> and, finally, the offspring
of the common <i>femme du peuple</i>. A woman from
any profession, from any stratum of society, by her charm
and intelligence, her original discoveries and inventions
of debauch and licentiousness, could easily become the
heroine of the day, the goddess of society, the goal and
aspiration of the used-up <i>roués</i> of the aristocracy. Under
Louis XIV., such popularity was an impossibility to a
woman of that sort, but society under the Regency seemed
to have awakened from the torpor and gloom of the later
years of the monarchy to a reign of unrestrained gayety and vice.</p>
<p>The first woman to infect the social atmosphere of the
nobility with a new form of extravagance and licentiousness
was Adrienne Le Couvreur, who was the heroine of
the day during the first years of the Regency. She was
the daughter of a hatter, who had gone to Paris about
1702; while employed as a laundress, she often gave proof
of the possession of remarkable dramatic genius by her
performances at private theatricals. In 1717, through the
influence of the great actor Baron, she made her appearance
at the Comédie Française; the reappearance of that
favorite with Adrienne Le Couvreur as companion, in the
plays of Corneille, Racine, and Voltaire, reëstablished
the popularity of the French theatre. Adrienne immediately
became a favorite with the titled class, was frequently
present at Mme. de Lambert's, gave the most
sumptuous suppers herself, and was compelled to repulse
lovers of the highest nobility.</p>
<p>Her principal lovers were Voltaire, whom she nursed
through smallpox, spending many hours in reading to him,
and Maurice of Saxony; she had children of whom the
latter was the father, and it was she who, by selling her
plate and jewelry, supplied him with forty thousand francs
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page299" id="page299"></a>[pg 299]</span>
in order to enable him to equip his soldiers when he proposed
to recover the principality of Courland. She was
generous to prodigality; but when she died, the Church
refused to grant consecrated ground for the reception of
her remains, although it condescended to accept her munificent
gift of a hundred thousand francs to charity. Her
death was said to have been caused by her rival, the
Duchesse de Bouillon, by means of poisoned pastilles administered
by a young abbé. In the night, her body was
carried by two street porters to the Rue de Bourgogne,
where it was buried. Voltaire, in great indignation at
such injustice, wrote his stinging poem <i>La Mort de Mademoiselle
Le Couvreur</i>, which was the cause of his being again obliged to leave Paris.</p>
<p>The popularity of the Comédie Française declined after
the deaths of Baron and Adrienne Le Couvreur, until the
appearance of Mlle. Clairon, who was one of the greatest
actresses of France. Born in Flanders in 1723, at a very
early age she had wandered about the provinces, from
theatre to theatre, with itinerant troupes, winning a great
reputation at Rouen. In 1738 the leading actresses were
Mlle. Quinault, who had retired to enjoy her immense
fortune in private life, and Mlle. Dumesnil, the great
<i>tragédienne</i>. When Mlle. Clairon received an offer to
play alternately with the favorite, Mlle. Dumesnil, she
selected as her opening part <i>Phèdre</i>, the <i>rôle de triomphe</i>
of her rival.</p>
<p>The appearance of a débutante was an event, and its
announcement brought out a large crowd; the presumption
of a provincial artist in selecting a rôle in which to rival a
great favorite had excited general ridicule, and an unusually
large audience had assembled, expecting to witness an
ignominious failure. Mlle. Clairon's stately figure, the
dignity and grace of her carriage, "her finely chiselled
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page300" id="page300"></a>[pg 300]</span>
features, her noble brow, her air of command, her clear,
deep, impassioned voice," made an immediate impression
upon the audience. She was unanimously acknowledged
as superior to Mlle. Dumesnil, and the entire social and
literary world hastened to do her homage.</p>
<p>Mlle. Clairon did as much for the theatre as did Adrienne
Le Couvreur, especially in discarding, in her <i>Phèdre</i>, the
plumes, spangles, the panier, the frippery, which had been
the customary equipments of that rôle. She and Lecain,
the prominent actor of the day, introduced the custom of
wearing the proper costume of the characters represented.
The grace and dignity of her stage presence caused her to
be sought by the great ladies, who took lessons in her
famous courtesy <i>grande révérence</i>, which was later supplanted
by the courtesy of Mme. de Pompadour.</p>
<p>Mlle. Clairon became the recipient of great favors and
honors, her most prominent slave being Marmontel, to
whom she had given a room in her hôtel after Mme. Geoffrin
had withdrawn from him the privilege of occupying an
apartment in her spacious establishment. She contributed
largely to the success of his plays, as well as to those of
Voltaire, whom she visited at Ferney, performing in his
private theatre. Her success was uninterrupted until she
declined to play, in the <i>Siège de Calais</i>, with an actor who
had been guilty of dishonesty; she was then thrown into
prison, and refused to reappear. When about fifty years
of age she became the mistress of the Margrave of Ansbach,
at whose court she resided for eighteen years. In
1791 she returned to Paris, where, poor and forgotten, she died in 1803.</p>
<p>An actress or a singer who left a greater reputation
through her wit, the promptness and malignity of her repartee,
and her extravagance, than through her voice was
Sophie Arnould, the pupil of Mlle. Clairon. She was the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page301" id="page301"></a>[pg 301]</span>
daughter of an innkeeper; her first success was won through
her charming figure and her flexible voice. Some of the
ladies attached to the court of Louis XV., having heard
her sing at evening service during Passion week, had induced
the royal chapel master to employ her in the choir.
There, and by the warm eulogies of Marmontel during one
of his toilette visits to Mme. de Pompadour, the attention
of the <i>maîtresse-en-titre</i> was called to her beauty and vocal charm.</p>
<p>Her début was made with unusual success, but she afterward
eloped with the Comte de Lauraguais, who had made
a wager that he could win the beautiful artist. After her
reappearance at Paris her career became a long series of
dissipations and unprecedented extravagances. She was
as witty as she was licentious, and many of her <i>bons mots</i>
have been collected. It was she who characterized the
great Necker and Choiseul, on being shown a box containing
their portraits: "That is receipt and expenditure"—the
credit and debit. She was one of the few prominent
women who died in favor and in comfortable circumstances.</p>
<p>The lowest and most depraved of this licentious class of
women was Mlle. La Guimard, the legitimate daughter
of a factory inspector of cloth. In 1758 she entered the
opera as a ballet girl, but very little is known of her during
the first years of her career except in connection with
her numerous lovers. In about 1768 she was living in
most sumptuous style, her extravagances being paid for
by two lovers, the Prince de Soubise, her <i>amant utile</i>, and
the farmer-general, M. de La Borde, her <i>amant honoraire</i>.</p>
<p>At this period she gave three suppers weekly: one for
all the great lords at court and of distinction; the second
for authors, scholars, and artists; the third being a supper
of <i>débauchées</i>, the most seductive and lascivious girls of
the opera; at the last function, luxury and debauch were
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page302" id="page302"></a>[pg 302]</span>
carried to unknown extremes. At her superb country
home, "Pantin," she gave private performances, the
magnificence of which was unprecedented and admission
to which was an honor as eagerly sought as was that of attendance at Versailles.</p>
<p>There was another side to the nature of Mlle. La Guimard:
during the terrible cold of the winter of 1768, she
went about alone visiting the poor and needy, distributing
food and clothing purchased with the six thousand livres
given her by her lover, the Prince de Soubise, as a New
Year's gift. Her charity became so general that people of
all professions and classes went to her for assistance—actors
and artists to borrow the money with which to pay
their debts, officers with the same object in view. To one
of the latter to whom she had just lent a hundred louis
and who was about to sign a note, she said: "Sir, your
word is sufficient. I imagine that an officer will have as
much honor as <i>fille d'opéra</i>."</p>
<p>Her performances at "Pantin" and her luxurious mode
of life required more money than the two lovers were able
to supply; therefore, another was accepted in the person
of the Bishop of Orléans, Monseigneur de Jarente, who
supplied her with money and other necessaries. In 1771
she decided to build a hôtel with an elegant theatre which
would comfortably seat five hundred people. The opening
of this Temple de Terpsichore was the great event of the
year (1772). All the nobility was there, even the princes
of the blood, and the "delicious licenses of the presentation
were fully enjoyed by those who were fortunate enough to obtain admission."</p>
<p>Her costumes were of such taste and became so renowned
that Marie Antoinette consulted her in reference
to her own wonderful inventions; the dresses became
known as the <i>Robe à la La Guimard</i>. Inasmuch as the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page303" id="page303"></a>[pg 303]</span>
management of the Opéra supplied all gowns, the expense
for this one artist was enormous, in 1779 amounting to
thirty thousand livres for dresses alone. In 1785, being in
financial straits, she sold her hôtel on the Rue Chaussée-d'Antin
by lottery, two thousand five hundred tickets at
one hundred and twenty livres each. None of the salons
of Paris could compare with hers in the "costliness of the
crystal and the plate of her table service, in the taste and
elegance of her floral decorations—choice exotics obtained
from a distance, regardless of expense."</p>
<p>After appearing at the Haymarket Opera House in
London in 1789, Mlle. La Guimard decided to retire to
private life, and married M. Despréaux, the ballet master,
fifteen years her junior. During the Revolution the government
ceased to pay pensions, and as she had saved
very little of her wealth the two lived in the most straitened
circumstances. Her fate was similar to that of the average
woman of pleasure—forgotten, half-witted, stooping to any
act of indecency to gain a few sous.</p>
<p>Such were the principal heroines of the stage, opera,
and ballet; they were in harmony with the general state
of that depraved society of which they were natural products;
transitory lights that shone for but a short space of
time, consumed by their own sensuous instinct, they
were forgotten with death. The royal mistresses lived
the same life and followed the same ideals, but exerted a
greater and more lasting influence in the state.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page305" id="page305"></a>[pg 305]</span>
<h2>Chapter XI</h2>
<h2>Royal Mistresses</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page307" id="page307"></a>[pg 307]</span>
<p>In the study of the royal mistresses of the eighteenth
century, we encounter two in particular,—Mme. de Pompadour
and Mme. du Barry,—who, though totally different
types of women, both reflect the gradual decline of ideals and
morals in the first and last years of the reign of Louis XV.
The former dominated the king by means of her intelligence,
but the latter swayed the sovereign, already consumed
by his sensual excesses, through her peculiarly seductive sensuality.</p>
<p>During the first years of the reign of Louis XV., one of
the most influential women was Mme. de Prie, who brought
about the marriage of the king to Marie Leczinska, the
daughter of the King of Poland, by which manœuvre she
made herself <i>Dame de Palais de la Reine</i>. The queen
naturally took her and her husband into favor, regarding
them as her and her father's benefactors and as entitled
to her warmest gratitude. Mme. de Prie succeeded in
winning the queen's affection and confidence; however,
these were of little value, inasmuch as the queen's influence
upon society and morals was not felt, for she led a
life of seclusion, shut up in her oratory and constantly on
her <i>prie-dieu</i>, and was an object of pity and ridicule.</p>
<p>Mme. de Prie and M. le Duc, having planned to deprive
M. Fleury, the minister, of his power,—he had been the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page308" id="page308"></a>[pg 308]</span>
king's preceptor,—suddenly had the tables turned against
them. Both were exiled, and a new coterie of ladies came
into power; the Duchesse d'Alincourt replaced Mme. de
Prie, and the king and M. Fleury themselves took up the affairs of state.</p>
<p>M. Fleury, now cardinal, perceiving that a mistress was
inevitable, consented to the choice by the dissolute men
and women of court of Mme. de Mailly,—or Mlle. de Nesle,—who
was supposed to be a disinterested person. The
king, who had no love for her, accepted her as he would
have accepted anything put before him by the court. The
queen was incapable of exerting any beneficial influence
upon him; in fact, the more he became alienated from
her, the more humble and timid did she appear when in
his presence. The reign of Mlle. de Nesle had lasted less
than a year, when the beautiful Mme. de La Tournelle,
created Duchesse de Châteauroux, replaced her; the
latter lived but a short time, being the second mistress of
Louis XV. to die within a year. After her death the
king raised the beautiful Mme. d'Etioles to the honor of
<i>maîtresse-en-titre</i>; she, as Mme. de Pompadour, was, without
doubt, the most prominent, possibly the most intelligent
and intellectual, certainly the most powerful, of all
French mistresses. It was the first time that a <i>bourgeoise</i>
of the financier class had usurped the position of mistress—that
honor having belonged exclusively to the nobility.</p>
<p>After the first infidelities of the king, Marie Leczinska's
life became more and more austere and secluded; she
remained indoors, far from the noise and activity of Versailles,
leaving only for charitable purposes or for the
theatre. Her mornings were entirely occupied in prayers
and moral readings, after which followed a visit to the
king, a little painting, the toilette, mass, and dinner. After
dinner, she retired to her apartments and passed the time
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page309" id="page309"></a>[pg 309]</span>
making tapestry, embroidering, and in charity work—no
longer the recreation of leisure, but the duty of charity
which the poor expected. Her taste for music, the guitar,
the clavecin, all amusements in which she delighted before
her marriage, were abandoned. Under such circumstances
the mistress had full control of everything.</p>
<p>It was prophesied of Mlle. Jeanne Poisson, at the age of
nine, that she would become the mistress of Louis XV.
(Mme. Lebon, who made this pleasing prediction, was
later rewarded with a pension of six hundred livres.)
Mlle. Jeanne was the natural daughter of a butcher, but
received a good education and, at the age of twenty, was
married to Le Normand d'Etioles, farmer of taxes. It
was shortly after this that she managed to attract the
king's attention, at a hunting party in the forest of Senart.
With the assistance of her friends, she was successful in
winning the king, and, in April, 1754, at a supper which
lasted far into the early morning, reposing in his arms,
she virtually became the mistress of Louis XV. The
actual accomplishment of this, however, depended upon
the disposal of her husband, which was easily arranged
by Louis, who ordered Le Normand d'Etioles from Paris,
thus securing her from any harm from him. The brothers
De Goncourt write thus of her talents:</p>
<p>"Marvellous aptitudes, a scholarly and rare education,
had given to this young woman all the gifts and virtues
that made of a woman what the eighteenth century called
a virtuoso, an accomplished model of the seductions of her
time. Jeliotte had taught her singing and the clavecin;
Guibaudet, dancing; Crébillon had taught her declamation
and the art of diction; the friends of Crébillon had formed
her young mind to <i>finesse</i>, to delicacies, to lightness of
sentiment, and to irony of the <i>esprit</i> of the time. All the
talents of grace seemed to be united in her. No woman
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page310" id="page310"></a>[pg 310]</span>
mounted a horse better; none captured applause more
quickly than did she with her voice and instrument; none
recalled in a better way the tone of Gaussin or the accent
of Clairon; none could tell a story better. And there where
others could vie with her in coquetry, she carried off the
honors by her genius of toilette, by the graceful turn she
gave to a mere rag, by the air she imparted to a mere
nothing which ornamented her, by the characteristic signature
which her taste gave to everything she wore."</p>
<p>To please and charm, Mme. d'Etioles had a complexion
of the most striking whiteness, lips somewhat pale, and
eyes of an indescribable color in which were blended
and compounded the seduction of black eyes, the seduction
of blue eyes. She had magnificent chestnut hair,
ravishing teeth, and the most delicious smile which "hollowed
her cheeks into two dimples which the engraving of
<i>La Jardinière</i> shows; she had a medium-sized and round
waist, perfect hands, a play of gestures lively and passionate
throughout, and, above all, a physiognomy of a
mobility, of a changeableness, of a marvellous animation,
wherein the soul of the woman passed ceaselessly, and
which, constantly in process of change, showed in turn an
impassioned and imperious tenderness, a noble seriousness, or roguish graces."</p>
<p>In September, 1745, she was formally presented to the
queen and court as the Marquise de Pompadour, and, in
October, was installed at Fontainebleau in the apartments
formerly occupied by Mme. de Châteauroux, who
had just died. Her position was not an easy one, for all
the superb jealousy and hateful scorn which the aristocracy
cherished against the power and wealth of the
<i>bourgeoisie</i> were turned against her; but the court scandal-mongers
and intriguers found their match in Mme. de
Pompadour, who showed herself so superior in every
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page311" id="page311"></a>[pg 311]</span>
respect to the court ladies that the hostilities gradually
ceased, but not until the public itself had expended all its
efforts against this upstart.</p>
<p>Her first move was to surround herself with friends, the
first of whom she wisely sought in the queen. Paying her
every possible attention, she persuaded the king to show
her more consideration. The Prince de Conti, the Paris
brothers, and others of the great financiers of France
were added to her circle. After this she began her rule
as first minister, in place of the dead Fleury, by giving
places and pensions to her favorites. The reign of
economy and domestic morality came to an end with the
accession of Mme. de Pompadour; in fact, it was soon generally
considered that those upon whom she did not
shower favors were her enemies. At this time the
nobility of France was too corrupt to raise any serious
objections to the dispensing of favors by the <i>maîtresse-en-titre</i>,
whether she were of noble birth or not.</p>
<p>As mistress, her duties were many: to manipulate and
manage Versailles, please and captivate the king, make
allies, win over the highest officials and keep control of
them, put her own friends in office, attach to her favor
every man of prominence,—princes and ministers,—keep
in touch with the court, appease, humor, and win the honor
of the courtiers, "attach consciences, recompense capitulations,
organize about the mistress an emulation of devotion
and servility by means of prodigality of the favors of
the king and the money of the state; but what was a
more burdensome task,—she must occupy the king, aid
and agitate him, fight off constantly, from day to day and hour to hour, ennui."</p>
<p>This terrible ennui, indifference, enervation, this lazy
and splenetic humor of the king, she succeeded in distracting,
in soothing, and amusing. She understood him
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page312" id="page312"></a>[pg 312]</span>
perfectly—therein lie the great secret of the favor of Mme.
de Pompadour and the great reason of her long domination
which only death could end. She had the patience and
genius to soothe the many ills of the monarch, possessing
an intuitive understanding of his moral temperament, and a
complete comprehension of his nervous sensibility; these
gifts were a science with her and enabled her to keep alive
his taste for and enjoyment of life. Mme. de Pompadour
is said to have taken possession of the very existence of Louis XV.</p>
<p>"She appropriates and kills his time, robs him of the
monotony of hours, draws him through a thousand pastimes
in this eternity of ennui between morning and night,
never abandoning him for a minute, not permitting him to
fall back upon himself. She takes him away from work,
disputes him to the ministers, hides him from the ambassadors.
In his face must not be seen a cloud or the
slightest trace of care of affairs; to Maurepas, in the act
of reading some reports to the king, she says: 'Come
now, M. de Maurepas, you turn the king yellow....
Adieu, M. de Maurepas'; and Maurepas gone, she takes
the king, she smiles upon the lover, she cheers the man."</p>
<p>In 1747, two years after her installation, she interested
the king in a theatre, and inaugurated the famous representations
at the Théâtre des Petits Appartements; she
herself was one of its best actresses, singers, and musicians.
All the members of the nobility vied with one
another in procuring admission to these performances, as
auditors or actors. Her contemporaries say that she was
without a rival in acting, for in that art she found opportunity
to show her vivacity, her <i>esprit</i> of tone, and her
malice of expression, the effect of which was heightened
by her voice, graceful figure, and tasteful attire, which
became the envy of every court lady.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page313" id="page313"></a>[pg 313]</span>
<p>Almost all rising young artists and men of letters were
encouraged or pensioned by Mme. de Pompadour. Her
salon would have become one of the most distinguished
of the period, as she was, herself, the most remarkably
talented and beautiful woman of her time, had not lack of
moral principles and an intense love of power led her to
seek the gratification of her ambitions in the much envied
position of mistress of the king. To assist at her toilette
became a favor more eagerly desired than presence at the
<i>petit lever</i> of the king. The court became more brilliant,
the middle class rose, the prestige of the nobility declined;
the last became, in general, but a crowd of <i>cordons bleus</i>,
eager to claim the favor of any of her protégés. Every
noble house offered a daughter in marriage to her brother,
whom she made <i>intendant</i> of public buildings, and who
looked with much displeasure upon the actions of his sister.</p>
<p>Mme. de Pompadour made a thorough study of the politics
of Europe in relation to the affairs of the nation—a
proceeding in which she was aided by her extraordinary
intelligence, acute perception of difficulties and conditions,
domestic and foreign; by the exercise of these qualities,
she put herself in touch with the politics of France, always
consulting the best of minds and winning many friends
among them. In 1749 she succeeded in ridding herself of
her pronounced enemy, Maurepas, minister and confidential
adviser of the king, and subsequently began her reign as
absolute mistress and governor of France.</p>
<p>Her life then became one of constant labor, which gradually
undermined her health. Appreciating the mental
indolence of Louis, she would place before him a clear and
succinct résumé of all important questions of state affairs,
which she, better than any other, knew how to present
without wearying him. Realizing that her power depended
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page314" id="page314"></a>[pg 314]</span>
upon her influence over the king, and that she was surrounded
by men and women who were simply waiting for
a favorable opportunity to cause her downfall, she was
constantly on the defensive. She considered it "the business
of her life to make her yoke so easy and pleasant,
and from habit so necessary to him, that an effort to
shake it off would be an effort that would cause him
real pain." Her happiest hours—for she did not love the
king—were those spent with her brother, the Marquis de
Marigny, in the midst of artists, musicians, and men of letters.</p>
<p>As for the queen, she was in the background, absolutely.
"All the prerogatives of a princess of a sovereign house
were, at this time, about 1750, conferred by the king upon
Mme. de Pompadour, and all the pomp and parade then
deemed indispensable to rank so exalted were fully assumed
by her." At the opera, she had her <i>loge</i> with the king,
her tribune at the chapel of Versailles where she heard
mass, her servants were of the nobility, her carriage had the
ducal arms, her etiquette was that of Mme. de Montespan,
Her father was ennobled to De Marigny, her brother to be
Marquis de Vandières. The marriage of her daughter to
a son of the king and his former mistress was planned,
then with a son of Richelieu, then with others of the
nobility; fortunately, the girl died.</p>
<p>Mme. de Pompadour gradually amassed a royal fortune,
buying the magnificent estate of Crécy for six hundred
and fifty thousand livres; "La Celle," near Versailles, for
twenty-six thousand livres; the Hôtel d'Evreaux, at Paris,
for seventy-five thousand livres—and these were her minor
expenses; her paintings, sculpture, china, pottery, etc.,
cost France over thirty-six million livres. Her imagination
in art and inventions was wonderful; she retouched
and decorated the château in which she was received by
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page315" id="page315"></a>[pg 315]</span>
the king; she made "Choisy"—the king's property—her
own, as it were, by all the embellishments she ordered
and the expenditures which her lover lavished upon it at
her request. All the luxuries of the life at "Choisy," all
the refinements even to the smallest detail, had their origin
in her inventions. It was she who planned the fairy
château with its wonderful furniture, her own invention.</p>
<p>At that time, her whole life was spent in adding variety
to the life of the king and in distracting the ennui which
pursued him. In her retreats she affected the simplicity
of country life; the gardens contained sheepfolds and were
free from the pomp of the conventional French gardens;
there were cradles of myrtle and jasmine, rosebushes,
rustic hiding places, statues of Cupid, and fields of jonquils
filled the air with the most intoxicating perfume. There
she amused her sovereign by appearing in various characters
and acting the parts—now a royal personage, now a gardener's maid.</p>
<p>However, in spite of all cunning study of the sensuous
nature of the king, in spite of this perpetual enchantment
of his senses, this favorite was obliged to fight for her
power every minute of her existence. If hers were a
conquest, it was a laborious one, held only through ceaseless
activity; continual brainwork, all the countermoves
and manœuvres of the courtesan, were required to keep
Mme. de Pompadour seated in this position, which was
surrounded by snares and dangers.</p>
<p>To possess the time of the king, occupy his enemies,
soothe his fatigue, arouse his wearied body condemned to
a milk diet, to preserve her beauty—all these were the
least of her tasks. She must be ever watchful, see evil
in every smile, danger in every success, divine secret
plots, be on guard to resist the court, the royal family, the
ministry. For her there was no moment of repose: even
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page316" id="page316"></a>[pg 316]</span>
during the effusions of love she must act the spy upon the
king, and, with presence of mind and calmness, must seek
in the deceitful face of the man the secrets of the master.</p>
<p>Every morning witnessed the opening of a new comedy:
a gay smile, a tranquil brow, a light song, must ever disguise
the mind's preoccupation and all the machinations of
her fertile brain. At one time the Comte d'Argenson,
desiring to succeed Fleury as minister, almost arrived
at supplanting Mme. de Pompadour by young Mme. de
Choiseul, who, having charmed the king on one occasion,
obtained from him a promise that he would make her his
mistress—which would necessitate desertion of Mme. de
Pompadour; but, by the natural charms of which age had
not robbed her and by bringing all her past experience
into play, Mme. de Pompadour once more scored a triumph
and remained the actual minister to the king. All this
nervous strain was gradually killing her, and, to overcome
her physical weakness, her weary senses, her frigid disposition,
she resorted to artificial stimulants to keep her
blood at the boiling point and enable her to satisfy the phlegmatic king.</p>
<p>Undoubtedly the most disgraceful act of this all-powerful
woman was the maintaining of a house of pleasure for the
king, to which establishment she allured some of the most
beautiful girls of the nobility, as well as of the <i>bourgeoisie</i>.
These young women supposed that they were being supported
by a wealthy nobleman; their children were given
a pension of from three thousand to twelve thousand livres,
and the mother received one hundred thousand francs and
was sent to the provinces to marry; a father and mother
were easily bought for the child. Thus was this clandestine
trade carried on by those two—the king satisfying his
utter depravity, and Mme. de Pompadour making herself
all the more secure against a possible rival.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page317" id="page317"></a>[pg 317]</span>
<p>All this time her active brain was ever planning for
higher honors and greater power. She aspired to becoming
<i>dame de palais</i>, but as an excommunicated soul, a
woman living in flagrant violation of the laws of morality
and separated from her husband, she could not receive
absolution from the Church, in spite of her intriguing to
that effect. She did succeed, however, in influencing the
king to make her lady of honor to the queen; therefore,
in gorgeous robes, she was ever afterward present at all court functions.</p>
<p>She began to patronize the great men of the day, to
make of them her debtors, pension them, lodge them in
the Palais d'Etat, secure them from prison, and to place
them in the Academy. Voltaire became her favorite, and
she made of him an Academician, historiographer of
France, ordinary gentleman of the chamber, with permission
to sell his charge and to retain the title and privileges.
For these favors he thanked her in the following poem:</p>
<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
<p class="i8">"Ainsi donc vous réunissez</p>
<p>Tous les arts, tous les goûts, tous les talents de plaire;</p>
<p class="i8">Pompadour vous embellissez</p>
<p class="i8">La Cour, le Parnasse et Cythère,</p>
<p>Charme de tous les cœurs, trésor d'un seul mortel,</p>
<p class="i8">Qu'un sort si beau soit éternel!"</p>
</div> </div>
<p>[Thus you unite all the arts, all the tastes, all the talents,
of pleasing; Pompadour, you embellish the court, Parnassus,
and Cythera. Charm of all hearts, treasure of one
mortal, may a lot so beautiful be eternal!]</p>
<p>Voltaire dedicated his <i>Tancrède</i> to her; in fact, his influence
and favor were so great that he was about to receive
an invitation to the <i>petits soupers</i> of the king, when the
nobility rose up in arms against him, and, as Louis XV.
disliked him, the coveted honor was never attained. To
Crébillon, who had given her elocution lessons in her
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page318" id="page318"></a>[pg 318]</span>
early days and who was now in want, she gave a pension
of a hundred louis and quarters at the Louvre. Buffon,
Montesquieu, Marmontel, and many other men of note
were taken under her protection.</p>
<p>It was Mme. de Pompadour who founded, supported,
and encouraged a national china factory; the French owe
Sèvres to her, for its artists were complimented and inspired
by her inveterate zeal, her persistency, her courage,
and were assisted by her money. She brought it into
favor, established exhibits, sold and eulogized the ware
herself, until it became a favorite. Also, through her
management and zeal the Military School was founded.</p>
<p>The disasters of the Seven Years' War are all charged
to Mme. de Pompadour. The motive which caused her
to decide in favor of an alliance with Austria against Frederick
the Great was a personal desire for revenge; the
latter monarch had dubbed her "Cotillon IV," and had
rather scorned her, refusing to have anything to do with
a Mlle. de Poisson, "especially as she is arrogant and
lacks the respect due to crowned heads." The flattering
propositions of the Austrian ambassador, Kaunitz, who
treated with her in person and won her over, did much to
set her against Germany, and induced her to influence
Louis XV. to accept her view of the situation—a scheme
in which she was victorious over all the ministers; the
result was the Austrian alliance. The letter of Kaunitz to
her, in 1756, will illustrate her position:</p>
<p>"Everything done, Madame, between the two courts,
is absolutely due to your zeal and wisdom. I feel it and
cannot refuse myself the satisfaction of telling you and of
thanking you for having been my guide up to the present
time. I must not even keep you ignorant of the fact that
their Imperial Majesties give you the full justice due you
and have for you all the sentiments you can desire. What
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page319" id="page319"></a>[pg 319]</span>
has been done must merit, it seems to me, the approbation
of the impartial public and of posterity. But what
remains to be done is too great and too worthy of you for
you to give up the task of contributing and to leave imperfect
a work which cannot fail to make you forever dear to
your country. I am, therefore, persuaded that you will
continue your attention to an object so important. In
this case, I look upon success as certain and I already
share, in advance, the glory and satisfaction which
must come to you, no one being able to be more sincerely
and respectfully attached to you than is your very
humble and obedient servant, the Count de Kaunitz-Rietberg."</p>
<p>She received her first check when, Damiens having
attempted to assassinate the king, the dauphin was regent
for eleven days. She was confined to her room and heard
nothing from the king, who was in the hands of the clergy.
Among the friends who abandoned her was her protégé
Machault, the guard of the seals, who conspired with
D'Argenson to deprive her of her power and went so far
as to order her departure. After the king's recovery, both
D'Argenson and Machault were dismissed and Mme. de
Pompadour became more powerful than before.</p>
<p>Her influence and usurpation of power bore heavily upon
every department of state; she appointed all the ministers,
made all nominations, managed the foreign policy and politics,
directed the army and even arranged the plans of
battle. Absolute mistress of the ministry, she satisfied
all demands of the Austrian court, a move which brought
her the most flattering letter from Kaunitz, in which he
gives her the credit for all the transactions between the two courts.</p>
<p>Despite all her political duties and intrigues, she found
time for art and literature. Not one minute of the day
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page320" id="page320"></a>[pg 320]</span>
was lost in idleness, every moment being occupied with
interviews with artists and men of letters, with the furnishers
of her numerous châteaux, architects, designers,
engineers, to whom she confided her plans for embellishing
Paris. Being herself an accomplished artist, she was able
to win the respect and attention of these men. Her correspondence
was immense and of every nature, political and
personal. She was an incessant reader, or rather student,
of books on the most serious questions, which furnished
her knowledge of terms of state, precedents of history,
ancient and modern law; she was familiar with the contents
of works on philosophy, the drama, singing, and
music, and with novels of all nations; her library was large and well selected.</p>
<p>During the latter years of her life she was considered
as the first minister of state or even as regent of the kingdom,
rather than as mere mistress. Louis XV. looked to
her for the enforcement of the laws and his own orders.
She was forced to receive, at any time, foreign ambassadors
and ministers; she had to meet in the Cabinet de
Travail and give counsel to the generals who were her
protégés; the clergy went to her and laid before her their
plaints, and through her the financiers arranged their transactions
with the state.</p>
<p>Notwithstanding all this influence and power, the record
of her last years is a sorrowful one. More than ever
queen, she was no longer loved by the king, who went
to Passy to continue his liaison with a young girl, the
daughter of a lawyer. When Louis XV. as much as
recognized a son by this woman, Mme. de Pompadour
became deeply concerned; but the king was too much a
slave to her domination to replace her, so she retained
favor and confidence; the following letter shows that she enjoyed little else:</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page321" id="page321"></a>[pg 321]</span>
<p>"The more I advance in years, my dear brother, the more
philosophical are my reflections. I am quite sure that you
will think the same. Except the happiness of being with
the king, who assuredly consoles me in everything, the rest
is only a tissue of wickedness, of platitudes, of all the
miseries to which poor human beings are liable. A fine
matter for reflection (especially for anyone born as meditative
as I)!..." Later on, she wrote: "Everywhere
where there are human beings, my dear brother, you will
find falseness and all the vices of which they are capable.
To live alone would be too tiresome, thus we must endure
them with their defects and appear not to see them."</p>
<p>She realized that the king kept her only out of charity
and for fear of taking up any energetic resolution. Her
greatest disappointment was the utter failure of her political
plans and aspirations, which came to naught by the
Treaty of Paris. There was absolutely no glory left for
her, and chagrin gradually consumed her. Her health had
been delicate from youth; consumption was fast making
inroads and undermining her constitution, and the numerous
miscarriages of her early years as mistress contributed
to her physical ruin. For years she had kept herself up
by artificial means, and had hidden her loss of flesh and
fading beauty by all sorts of dress contrivances, rouges,
and powders. She died in 1764, at the age of forty-two.</p>
<p>Writers differ as to the true nature of Mme. de Pompadour,
some saying that she was bereft of all feeling, a
callous, hard-hearted monster; others maintain that she
was tender-hearted and sympathetic. However, the majority
agree as to her possession of many of the essential
qualifications of an able minister of state, as well as great
aptitude for carrying on diplomatic negotiations.</p>
<p>She was the greatest patroness of art that France ever
possessed, giving to it the best hours of her leisure; it was
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page322" id="page322"></a>[pg 322]</span>
her pastime, her consolation, her extravagance, and her
ruin. All eminent artists of the eighteenth century were
her clients. Artists were nourished, so to speak, by her
favors. It may truthfully be said that the eighteenth-century
art is a Pompadour product, if not a creation.
The whole century was a sort of great relic of the favorite.
Fashions and modes were slaves to her caprice, every new
creation being dependent upon her approbation for its survival—the
carriage, the <i>cheminée</i>, sofa, bed, chair, fan, and
even the <i>étui</i> and toothpick, were fashioned after her ideas.
"She is the godmother and queen of the rococo." Such a
eulogy, given by the De Goncourt brothers, is not shared
by all critics. Guizot wrote: "As frivolous as she was
deeply depraved and base-minded in her calculating easiness
of virtue, she had more ambition than comported with
her mental calibre or her force of character; she had taken
it into her head to govern, by turns promoting and overthrowing
the ministers, herself proffering advice to the
king, sometimes to good purpose, but still more often with
a levity as fatal as her obstinacy."</p>
<p>In <i>The Old Régime</i>, Lady Jackson has given an unprejudiced
estimate of her: "She was the most accomplished
and talented woman of her time; distinguished, above all
others, for her enlightened patronage of science and of the
arts, also for the encouragement she gave to the development
of improvements in various manufactures which had
stood still or were on the decline until favored by her; a
fresh impulse was given to progress, and a perfection attained
which has never been surpassed and, in fact, rarely
equalled. <i>Les Gobelins</i>, the carpets of the Savonnerie, the
<i>porcelaine de Sèvres</i>, were all, at her request, declared
<i>Manufactures Royales</i>. Some of the finest specimens of
the products of Sèvres, in ornamental groups of figures,
were modelled and painted by Mme. de Pompadour, as
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page323" id="page323"></a>[pg 323]</span>
presents to the queen.... The name of Pompadour
is, indeed, intimately associated with a whole school of art
of the Louis Quinze period—art so inimitable in its grace
and elegance that it has stood the test of time and remains
unsurpassed. Artists and poets and men of science vied
with each other in admiration of her talents and taste.
And it was not mere flattery, but simply the praise due to
an enlightened patroness and a distinguished artist."</p>
<p>If we consider the morals of high society, we shall
scarcely find one woman of rank who could cast a stone at
Madame de Pompadour. While admitting her moral shortcomings,
it must nevertheless be acknowledged that she
showed an exceptional ability in maintaining, for twenty
years, her influence over such a man as Louis XV. Such
was the power of this woman, the daughter of a tradesman,
mistress, king in all save title. She was, however,
less powerful than her successor,—that successor who
was less clever and less ambitious, who "never made the
least scrupulous blush at the lowness of her origin and
the irregularity of her life,"—Mme. du Barry.</p>
<p>Mme. du Barry was the natural daughter of Anne Béqus,
who was supported by M. Dumonceau, a rich banker at
Paris. The child was put into a convent, and, after passing
through different phases of life, she was finally placed
in a house of pleasure, where she captivated the Comte du
Barry, at whose harem she became the favorite. The
count, who had once before tried to supply the king with a
mistress, now planned for his favorite. The king ordered
the brother of Du Barry, Guillaume, to hasten to Paris
to marry a lady of the king's choice. The girl's name
had been changed officially and by the clergy, and a
dowry had been given her. Thus was it possible for the
king, after she had become the Comtesse du Barry, to
take her as a mistress. Her husband was sent back
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page324" id="page324"></a>[pg 324]</span>
to Toulouse, where he was stationed, while his wife was
lodged at Versailles, within easy access of the king's own chamber.</p>
<p>After much intriguing and diplomacy on the part of her
friends, especially Richelieu, she was to be presented at
court. The scene is well described by the De Goncourt
brothers, and affords a truthful picture of court manners
and customs of the latter part of the reign of Louis XV.:</p>
<p>"The great day had arrived—Paris was rushing to Versailles.
The presentation was to take place in the evening,
after worship. The hour was approaching. Richelieu,
filling his charge as first gentleman, was with the king,
Choiseul was on the other side. Both were waiting,
counting the moments and watching the king. The latter,
ill at ease, restless, agitated, looked every minute at his
watch. He paced up and down, uttered indistinct words,
was vexed at the noise at the gates and the avenues, the
reason of which he inquired of Choiseul. 'Sire, the people—informed
that to-day Mme. du Barry is to have the
honor of being presented to Your Majesty—have come
from all parts to witness her <i>entrée</i>, not being able to witness
the reception Your Majesty will give her.' The time
has long since passed—Mme. du Barry does not appear.
Choiseul (her enemy) and his friends radiate joy; Richelieu,
in a corner of the room, feels assurance failing him.
The king goes to the window, looks into the night—nothing.
Finally, he decides, he opens his mouth to countermand
the presentation. 'Sire, Mme. du Barry!' cries
Richelieu, who had just recognized the carriage and the
livery of the favorite; 'she will enter if you give the order.'
Just then, Mme. du Barry enters behind the Comtesse de
Béarn, bedecked with the hundred thousand francs' worth
of diamonds the king had sent her, coifed in that superb
headdress whose long scaffolding had almost made her
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page325" id="page325"></a>[pg 325]</span>
miss the hour of presentation, dressed in one of those triumphant
robes which the women of the eighteenth century
called 'robes of combat,' armed in that toilette in which
the eyes of a blind woman (Mme. du Deffand) see the
destiny of Europe and the fate of ministers; and it is an
apparition so beaming, so dazzling, that, in the first moments
of surprise, the greatest enemies of the favorite
cannot escape the charm of the woman, and renounce calumniating her beauty."</p>
<p>According to reports, her beauty must have been of the
ideal type of the time. All the portraits and images that
Mme. du Barry has left of herself, in marble, engraving, or
on canvas, show a <i>mignonne</i> perfection of body and face.
Her hair was long, silky, of an ashen blonde, and was
dressed like the hair of a child; her brows and lashes were
brown, her nose small and finely cut. "It was a complexion
which the century compared to a roseleaf fallen
into milk. It was a neck which was like the neck of an
antique statue...." In her were victorious youth,
life, and a sort of the divinity of a Hébé; about her hovered
that charm of intoxication, which made Voltaire cry out
before one of her portraits: <i>L'original était fait pour les
dieux!</i> [The original was made for the gods!]</p>
<p>In her lofty position, Mme. du Barry sought to overcome
the objections of the titled class, to quell jealousies and
petty quarrels; she did not usurp any power and always
endeavored not to trouble or embarrass anyone. After
some time, she succeeded in winning the favor of some of
the ladies, and, when her influence was fairly well established,
she began to plan the overthrow of her enemy,
De Choiseul, minister of Louis XV. She became the
favorite of artists and musicians, and all Europe began to
talk and write about this woman whom art had immortalized
on canvas and who was then controlling the destinies
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page326" id="page326"></a>[pg 326]</span>
of France. She succeeded, under the apprenticeship of
her lover, the Duc d'Aiguillon, who was the outspoken
enemy of De Choiseul, in accomplishing the fall of the
minister and the fortune of her friend. This success required
but a short time for its culmination, for in 1770 he
was deprived of his office and was exiled to Chantilly.</p>
<p>Mme. du Barry was never an implacable enemy; she
was too kind-hearted for that; thus, when her friend
D'Aiguillon insisted on depriving De Choiseul of his fortune,
she managed to procure for the latter a pension of
sixty-thousand livres and one million écus in cash, in spite
of the opposition of D'Aiguillon. After the fall of that
minister all the princes of the blood were glad to pay her
homage. She became almost as powerful as Mme. de
Pompadour, but her influence was not directed in the same channels.</p>
<p>Her life was a mere senseless dream of <i>femme galante</i>,
a luxurious revel, a constant whirl of pleasures, and extravagance
in jewelry, silks, gems, etc. A service in silver
was no longer rich enough—she had one in solid gold. To
house all her gems of art, rare objects, furniture, she
caused to be constructed a temple of art, "Luciennes,"
one of the most sumptuous, exquisite structures ever fitted
out. The money for this was supplied by the <i>contrôleur
général</i>, the Abbé Ferray, whose politics, science, duty,
and aim in life consisted in never allowing Mme. du Barry
to lack money. All discipline, morality, in fact everything, degenerated.</p>
<p>She had no rancor or desire for vengeance; she never
humiliated those whom she could destroy; she always
punished by silence, yet never won eternal silence by
letters patent; generous to a fault, giving and permitting
everything about her to be taken, she opened her purse to
all who were kind to her and to all who happened in some
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page327" id="page327"></a>[pg 327]</span>
way to please her. Keeping the heart of Louis XV. was
no easy matter, as the case of Mme. de Pompadour clearly
showed. The majority of his friends and her enemies
endeavored to force a new mistress upon the king; surrounded
on all sides by candidates for her coveted position,
Mme. du Barry managed to hold her own. When the
king was prostrated by smallpox, he sent her away on the last day.</p>
<p>The reign of Mme. du Barry was not one of tyranny,
nor was it a domination in the strict sense of that word;
for she was a nonentity politically, without ideas or plans.
"Study the favor of Mme. du Barry: nothing that emanates
from her belongs to her; she possesses neither an
idea nor an enemy; she controls all the historical events of
her time, without desiring them, without comprehending
them.... She serves friendships and individuals,
without knowing how to serve a cause or a system or a
party, and she is protected by the providential course of
things, without having to worry about an effort, intrigues, or gratitude."</p>
<p>Her power and influence cannot be compared with those
of her predecessor, Mme. de Pompadour. Modes were followed,
but never invented by her. "With her taste for
the pleasures of a grisette, her patronage falls from the
opera to the couplet, from paintings and statuaries to
bronzes and sculptures in wood; her <i>clientèle</i> are no longer
artists, philosophers, poets—they are the gods of lower
domains, mimics, buffoons, dancers, comedians." She
was the lowest and most common type of woman ever influential in France.</p>
<p>After the death of the king, she was ordered to leave
Versailles and live with her aunt. Later on, she was permitted
to reside within ten leagues of Paris; all her former
friends and admirers then returned, and she continued to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page328" id="page328"></a>[pg 328]</span>
live the life of old, buying everything for which she had a
fancy and living in the most sumptuous style, never worrying
about the payment of her debts. After a few years
she was entirely forgotten, living at Luciennes with but a
few intimate friends and her lover, the Duc de Brissac.</p>
<p>At the outbreak of the Revolution, she was living at
Luciennes in great luxury on the fortune left her by the
duke. Probably she would have escaped the guillotine had
she not been so possessed with the idea of retaining her
wealth. Four trips to England were undertaken by her,
and on her return she found her estates usurped by a man
named Grieve, who, anxious to obtain possession of her
riches, finally succeeded in procuring her arrest while
her enemies were in power. From Sainte-Pélagie they
took her to the Conciergerie, to the room which Marie Antoinette had occupied.</p>
<p>Accused of being the instrument of Pitt, of being an
accomplice in the foreign war, of the insurrection in La
Vendée, of the disorders in the south, the jury, out one
hour, brought in a verdict of guilty, fixing the punishment
at death within twenty-four hours, on the Place de la
République. Upon hearing her sentence, she broke down
completely and confessed everything she had hidden in
the garden at Luciennes. On her way to the scaffold,
she was a most pitiable sight to behold—the only prominent
French woman, victim of the Revolution, to die a
coward. The last words of this once famous and popular
mistress were: "Life, life, leave me my life! I will give
all my wealth to the nation. Another minute, hangman!
<i>A moi! A moi!</i>" and the heavy iron cut short her pitiful
screams, thus ending the life of the last royal mistress.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page329" id="page329"></a>[pg 329]</span>
<h2>Chapter XII</h2>
<h2>Marie Antoinette and the Revolution</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page331" id="page331"></a>[pg 331]</span>
<p>The condition of France at the end of the reign of
Louis XV. was most deplorable—injustice, misery, bankruptcy,
and instability everywhere. The action of the
law could be overridden by the use of arbitrary warrants
of arrest—<i>lettres de cachet</i>. The artisans of the towns
were hampered by the system of taxation, but the peasant
had the greatest cause for complaint; he was oppressed
by the feudal dues and many taxes, which often amounted
to sixty per cent of his earnings. The government was
absolute, but rotten and tottering; the people, oppressively
and unjustly governed, were just beginning to be conscious
of their condition and to seek the cause of it, while
the educated classes were saturated with revolutionary
doctrines which not only destroyed their loyalty to the
old institutions, but created constant aspirations toward new ones.</p>
<p>Thus, when Louis XVI., a mere boy, began to reign,
the whole French administrative body was corrupt, self-seeking,
and in the hands of lawyers, a class that dominated
almost every phase of government. In general,
inefficiency, idleness, and dishonesty had obtained a ruling
place in the governing body; the few honest men who had
a minor share in the administration either fell into a sort
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page332" id="page332"></a>[pg 332]</span>
of disheartened acquiescence or lost their fortunes and
reputations in hopeless revolt.</p>
<p>Under these conditions Louis XVI. began his reign; and
although peace seemed to exist externally, the country
was in revolution. France was as much under the modern
"ring rule" as any country ever was—a condition of
affairs largely due to the nature of the young king, whose
predominant characteristics might be called a supreme
awkwardness and an unpardonable lack of will power.
He was a man who, during the first part of his reign, led
a pure life; he possessed good and philanthropic intentions,
but was hampered by a weak intellect and a stubbornness
which bore little resemblance to real strength of will.
Also, he entertained strong religious convictions, which
were extremely detrimental to his policy and caused disagreements
with his ministers—Turgot, on account of
his philosophical principles, Necker, on account of his Protestantism.</p>
<p>His wife had those qualities which he lacked, decision
and strength of character; unfortunately, she wielded no
influence over him in the beginning, and when she did
gain it, she used it in a fatal manner, because she was
ignorant of the needs of France. Throughout her career of
power, she evinced headstrong wilfulness in pursuing her
own course. Thus, totally incapable of acting for himself,
Louis XVI. was practically at the mercy of his aunts, wife,
courtiers, and ministers, who fitted his policy to their own
desires and notions; therefore, the vast stream of emoluments
and honors was diverted by the ministers and courtiers
into channels of their own selection. There were
formed parties and combinations which were constantly
intriguing for or against each other.</p>
<p>At the time of the accession of Louis XVI., when poverty
was general over the kingdom, the household of the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page333" id="page333"></a>[pg 333]</span>
king consisted of nearly four thousand civilians, nine thousand
military men, and relatives to the enormous number
of two thousand, the supporting of which dependents cost
France some forty-five million francs annually. Luckily
there was no mistress to govern, as under Louis XV., but,
in place of one mistress who was the dispenser of favors,
there were numerous intriguing court women who were as
corrupt and frivolous as the men. These split the court
into factions. As the finances of the country sank to the
lowest ebb, odium was naturally cast upon the whole court,
without exception, by the people; hence, the wholesale
slaughter of the nobility during the Revolution.</p>
<p>In this period, the most critical in the history of France,
the queen, Marie Antoinette, as the central figure, the
leader of society, the model and example to whom all
looked for advice upon morals and fashions, played an important
rôle. Although not of French birth, she deserves
to be ranked among the women influential in France, since
she became so thoroughly imbued with French traits and
characteristics that she forgot her native tongue. French
life and spirit moulded her in such fashion that even the
French look upon her as a French woman.</p>
<p>Before judging this unfortunate princess who has been
condemned by so many critics, we must take into consideration
the demands that were made upon her. Parade
was the primary requisite: she was obliged to keep up the
splendor and attractiveness of the French monarchy; in
this she excelled, for her manner was dignified, gracious,
and "appropriately discriminating. It is said that she
could bow to ten persons with one movement, giving, with
her head and eyes, the recognition due to each one." It is
said, also, that as she passed among the ladies of her court,
she surpassed them all in the nobility of her countenance
and the dignified grace of her carriage. All foreigners
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page334" id="page334"></a>[pg 334]</span>
were enchanted with her, and to them she owes no small
part of her posthumous popularity.</p>
<p>She was reproached by French women for being exclusively
devoted to the society of a select, intimate circle.
Moreover, her conduct brought slander upon her; as her
companions she chose men and women of bad reputation,
and was constantly surrounded by dissipated young noblemen
whom she permitted to come into her presence in
costumes which shocked conservative people; she encouraged
gambling, frequented the worst gambling house of
the time, that of the Princesse de Guéménée, and visited
masked balls where the worst women of the capital jostled
the great nobles of the court; her husband seldom accompanied
her to these pleasure resorts.</p>
<p>During part of the reign of Marie Antoinette the country
was waging an expensive war and was deeply in debt, but
the queen did not set an example of economy by retrenching
her expenses; although her personal allowance was much
larger than that of the preceding queen, she was always
in debt and lost heavily at gambling. Generally, she
avoided interference with the government of the state, but
as the wife of so incapable a king she was forced into an
attempt at directing public matters. Whenever she did
mingle in state affairs, it was generally fatal to her interests
and popularity. She usually carried out her wishes,
for the king shrank from disappointing his wife and dreaded
domestic contentions.</p>
<p>He permitted her to go out as she did with the Comte
d'Artois, her brother-in-law, to masked balls, races, rides
in the Bois de Boulogne, and on expeditions to the salon
of the Princesse de Guéménée, where she contracted
the ills of a chronically empty purse and late hours.
When attacked by measles, to relieve her ennui—which
her ladies were not successful in doing—she procured the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page335" id="page335"></a>[pg 335]</span>
consent of the king to the presence of four gentlemen,
who waited upon her, coming at seven in the morning and
not departing until eleven at night; and these were some
of the most depraved and debauched among the nobility—such
as De Besenval, the Duc de Coigny, and the Duc de Guines.</p>
<p>While in power, she always sided with extravagance
and the court, against economy and the nation. If we
add to all these defects a vain and frivolous disposition, a
nature fond of admiration, pleasure, and popularity, and
lending a willing ear to all flattery, compliments, and counsels
of her favorites, her Austrian birth, and as "little
dignity as a Paris grisette in her escapades with the dissipated
and arrogant Comte d'Artois," we have, in general,
the causes of her wide unpopularity.</p>
<p>It will be seen that as long as she was frivolous and
imprudent, she was flattered and admired; as soon as she
became absolutely irreproachable, she was overwhelmed
with harsh judgments and expressions of ill will. The first
period was during the first years of the reign of Louis XVI.,
while he was still all-powerful and popular; the second
phase of her character developed during the trying days
of the king's first fall into disfavor and his ultimate imprisonment
and death. From this account of her career,
it will be seen that Marie Antoinette, as dauphiness and
queen, was rather the victim of fate and the invidious
intrigues of a depraved court than herself an instigator
and promulgator of the extravagance and dissipation of which she was accused.</p>
<p>We must remember the atmosphere into which Marie
Antoinette was thrust upon her arrival in France. One
of the first to sup with her was that most licentious of all
royal mistresses, Mme. du Barry, who asked for the privilege
of dining with the new princess—a favor which the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page336" id="page336"></a>[pg 336]</span>
dissipated and weak king granted. Louis XV. was nothing
more than a slave to vice and his mistresses. The king's
daughters—Mmes. Adelaïde, Victoire, and Sophie—were
pious but narrow-minded women, resolutely hostile to
Mme. du Barry and intriguing against her. The Comtes
de Provence and d'Artois were both pleasure-loving princes
of doubtful character; their sisters—Mmes. Clotilde and
Elisabeth—had no importance. The family was divided
against itself, each member being jealous of the others.
The dauphin, being of a retiring disposition and of a close
and self-contained nature, did little to add to the happiness
of the young princess. Thus, she was literally forced
to depend upon her own resources for pleasure and amusement
and was at the mercy of the court, which was
never more divided than in about 1770—the time of her appearance.</p>
<p>At that time there were two parties—the Choiseul,
or Austrian, party, and those who opposed the policy of
Choiseul, especially in the expulsion of the Jesuits; the
latter were called the party of the <i>dèvôts</i> and were led by
Chancellor Maupeau and the Duc d'Aiguillon. This faction,
with the mistress—Mme. du Barry—as the motive power,
soon broke up the power of Choiseul. The young and
innocent foreign princess, unschooled in intrigue and politics,
could not escape both political parties; upon her
entrance into the French court, she was immediately
classed with one or the other of these rival factions and
thus made enemies by whatever turn she took, and was
caught in a network of intrigues from which extrication was almost impossible.</p>
<p>Here, in this whirl of social excesses, her habits were
formed; hers being a lively, alert, active nature, fond of
pleasure and somewhat inclined toward raillery, she soon
became so absorbed in the many distractions of court life
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page337" id="page337"></a>[pg 337]</span>
that little time was left her for indulgence in reflection of
a serious nature. Her manner of life at this time in part
explains her subsequent career of heedlessness, excessive
extravagance, and gayety.</p>
<p>At first her aunts—Mmes. Adelaïde and Sophie—succeeded
in partially estranging her from Louis XV., who
had taken a strong fancy to his granddaughter; but this
influence was soon overcome—then these aunts turned
against her. Her popularity, however, increased. Innumerable
instances might be cited to show her kindness
to the poor, to her servants, to anyone in need—a quality
which made her popular with the masses. In time almost
everyone at court was apparently enslaved by her attractions
and endeavored to please the dauphiness—this was
about 1774, when she was at the height of her popularity.</p>
<p>However, there developed a striking contrast between
the dauphiness and the queen; Burke called the former
"the morning star, full of life and splendor and joy." In
fact, she was a mere girl, childlike, passing a gay and
innocent life over a road mined with ambushes and intrigues
which were intended to bring ruin upon her and
destined eventually to accomplish their purpose. By
being always prompt in her charities, having inherited
her mother's devotion to the poor, she won golden opinions
on all sides; and the reputation thus gained was
augmented by her animated, graceful manner and her youthful beauty.</p>
<p>Little accustomed to the magnificence that surrounded
her, she soon wearied of it, craving simpler manners and
the greater freedom of private intercourse. When, as
queen, she indulged these desires, she brought upon herself
the abuse and vilification of her enemies. While
dauphiness, her actions could not cause the nation's reproach
or arouse public resentment; as queen, however,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page338" id="page338"></a>[pg 338]</span>
her behavior was subject to the strictest rules of etiquette,
and she was responsible for the morals and general tone
of her court. This responsibility Marie Antoinette failed
to realize until it was too late.</p>
<p>Upon the accession of Louis XVI., a clean sweep was
made of the licentious and discredited agents of Mme. du
Barry, and a new ministry was created. The former mistress,
with her lover, the Duc d'Aiguillon, was banished,
although Mme. Adelaïde succeeded in having Maurepas,
uncle of the Duc d'Aiguillon, made minister. Marie Antoinette
had little interest in the appointment after she failed
to gain the honor for her favorite, De Choiseul, who had
negotiated her marriage.</p>
<p>The queen then proceeded to carry out her long-cherished
wishes for society dinners at which she could preside.
Her every act, however, was governed by inflexible
laws of etiquette, some of which she most impatiently
suffered, but many of which she impatiently put aside.
With this manner of entertaining begins her reign as queen
of taste and fashion, for Louis XVI. left to his wife the
responsibility of organizing all entertainments, and her
aspiration was to make the court of France the most
splendid in the world. From that time on, all her movements,
her apparel, her manners, to the minutest detail,
were imitated by the court ladies. This custom, of course,
led to reckless extravagance among the nobility, for whenever
Marie Antoinette appeared in a new gown, which
was almost daily, the ladies of the nobility must perforce copy it.</p>
<p>Tidings of these extravagances of the queen and her
court in time reached the empress-mother in Vienna.
Marie Thérèse severely reproached her daughter, writing:
"My daughter, my dear daughter, the first queen—is she
to grow like this? The idea is insupportable to me." Yet,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page339" id="page339"></a>[pg 339]</span>
"to speak the exact truth," said her counsellor, Mercy,
when writing to the empress-mother, "there is less to
complain of in the evil which exists than in the lack of all
the good which might exist." It is chronicled to her credit
that all her expenditure was not upon herself alone, but
that she was equally lavish when she attempted charity.</p>
<p>Her first political act, the removal of Turgot, was disastrous.
She thought she was humoring public opinion,
which was strongly against the minister on account of his
many reforms, but her primary reason was rather one of
personal vengeance. Turgot had been openly hostile to
her friend and favorite, the Duc de Guines. She was
then in the midst of her period of dissipation; "dazzled by
the glory of the throne, intoxicated by public approval,"
she overstepped the bounds of royal propriety, neglecting
etiquette and forgetting that she was secretly hated by the
people because of her origin; her greatest error was in
forgetting that she was Queen of France and no longer the mere dauphiness.</p>
<p>Under the escort of her brother-in-law, the Comte d'Artois,
she was constantly occupied with pleasures and had
time for little else. The king, retiring every night at
eleven and rising at five, had all the doors locked; so the
queen, who returned early in the morning, was compelled
to enter by the back door and pass through the servants'
apartments. Such behavior gave plentiful material to
M. de Provence, the king's brother, who remained at
home and composed, for the <i>Mercure de France</i>, all sorts
of stories, from so-called trustworthy information, on the
king, on society, and especially on the doings of the queen.</p>
<p>Marie Antoinette's fondness for the chase and the English
racing fad, for gambling, billiards, and her <i>petits soupers</i>
after the riding and racing, gave ample opportunity to
the gossipmongers and enemies. In spite of the vigorous
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page340" id="page340"></a>[pg 340]</span>
remonstrances of her mother, the empress, she persisted in
her wild career of dissipation and extravagance, and drew
upon herself more and more the disrespect of the people,
especially in appearing at places frequented by the disreputable
of both sexes, by entering into all noisy and
vulgar amusements, by her disregard and disdain of all the
conventionalities of the court. She increased her unpopularity
by reviving the sport of sleighing; for this purpose
she had gorgeous sleighs constructed at a time when the
population of France was in misery. Such proceedings
caused libels, epigrams, and satirical chansonnettes to flow
thick and fast from her enemies. Her one idea was to
seek congenial pleasures: she appeared to be wholly oblivious
to the disapproval of public opinion.</p>
<p>The slanderous tongues of her husband's aunts, the
"jealousies and bitter backbiting of her own intimate
circle of friends," the infamous accusations brought against
her by her sisters-in-law, the attacks of the Comte de
Provence, and the indifference of the king himself, all
helped to increase her unpopularity.</p>
<p>Among her personal friends was the Princesse de Lamballe,
whose influence was preponderant for several years;
she was not a conspicuously wise woman, but one of spotless
character. Her ambitions, personal and for her relatives,
often caused much trouble, for she became the
mouthpiece of her allies and her clients, for whom she
"solicited recommendations with as much pertinacity as
if she had been the most inveterate place hunter on her
own account." Her favors were too much in one direction
to suit the queen, for, much attached to the memory of
her husband, the princess naturally sympathized with the
Orléans faction. As superintendent of the household of
the queen, replacing the Comtesse de Noailles, she gave
rise to much scandal. Her salary, through intrigues, had
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page341" id="page341"></a>[pg 341]</span>
been raised to fifty thousand écus, while her privileges
were enormous; for instance, no lady of the queen could
execute an order given her without first obtaining the consent
of the superintendent. The displeasure and vexation
which this restriction caused among the court ladies may
be imagined; complaints became so frequent that the
queen tired of them, and her affection for her friend was thus cooled.</p>
<p>She sought other friends, among whom Mme. de Polignac
was the favorite and almost supplanted the Princesse de
Lamballe in the regard of the queen. To her she presented
a large grant of money, the tabouret of a duchess,
the post of governess to the children of France; and her
friends received the appointments of ambassadors, and
nominations to inferior offices. She was not by nature
an intriguing woman, but was soon surrounded by a set of
young men and women who made use of her favor and
took advantage of her influence; the result was the formation
of a regular Polignac set, almost all questionable persons,
but an exclusive circle, permitting no division of
favor, and undoing all who endeavored to rival them.
This coterie of favorites may be said to have caused Marie
Antoinette as much unpopularity and contributed as much
to her ruin, and even to that of royalty, as did any other
cause originating at court. Mme. de Lamballe was no
match for her rival, so she retired, a move which increased
the influence of Mme. de Polignac, to whose house the
whole court flocked. The queen followed her wherever
she went, made her husband duke, and permitted her to sit in her presence.</p>
<p>By spending so much of her time at the salons of Mme.
de Polignac and the Princesse de Guéménée, the queen
excited the displeasure and enmity of many of the court
and the people; at those places, De Besenval, De Ligny,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page342" id="page342"></a>[pg 342]</span>
De Lauzun,—men of the most licentious habits and expert
spendthrifts,—seemed to enjoy her intimate friendship, a
state of affairs which caused many scandalous stories and
helped to alienate some of the greatest houses of France.
This injudicious display of preference for her own circle of
friends also fostered a general distrust and dislike among
the people. The first families of France preferred to absent
themselves from her weekly balls at Versailles, since
attendance would probably result in their being ignored by
the queen, who permitted herself to be so engrossed by a
bevy of favorites and her own amusements as scarcely to notice other guests.</p>
<p>Her eulogists find excuse for all this in her lightness of
heart and gay spirits, as well as in the manner of her
rearing, having been brought up in the court of Louis XV.,
where she saw shameless vice tolerated and even condoned.
Although she preserved her virtue in the midst of
all this dissipation, she became callous to the shortcomings
of her friends and her own finer perceptions became
blunted. Thus, in the most critical years of her reign,
her nobler nature suffered deterioration, which resulted fatally.</p>
<p>Despite many warnings, she could not or would not do
without those friends. She excused anything in those
who could make themselves useful to her amusement:
everyone who catered to her taste received her favor.
M. Rocheterie, in his admirable work, <i>The Life of Marie
Antoinette</i>, gives as the source of her great love of pleasure
her very strongly affectionate disposition,—the need
of showering upon someone the overflowing of an ardent
nature,—together with the desire for activity so natural
in a princess of nineteen. As a place in which to vent all
these emotions, these ebullitions of affections and amusements,
the king presented her with the château "Little
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page343" id="page343"></a>[pg 343]</span>
Trianon," where she might enjoy herself as she liked,
away from the intrigues of court.</p>
<p>Marie Antoinette has become better known as the queen
of "Little Trianon" than as a queen of Versailles. At
the former place she gave full license to her creative bent.
Her palace, as well as her environments, she fashioned
according to her own ideas, which were not French and
only made her stand out the more conspicuously as a foreigner.
From this sort of fairy creation arose the distinctively
Marie Antoinette art and style; she caused artists to
exhaust their fertile brains in devising the most curious and
magnificent, the newest and most fanciful creations, quite
regardless of cost—and this while her people were starving
and crying for bread! The angry murmurings of the
populace did not reach the ears of the gay queen, who, had
she been conscious of them, might have allowed her bright
eyes to become dim for a time, but would have soon forgotten the passing cloud.</p>
<p>There was constant festivity about the queen and her
companions, but no etiquette; there was no household,
only friends—the Polignacs, Mme. Elisabeth, Monsieur,
the Comte d'Artois, and, occasionally, the king. To be
sure, the amusements were innocent—open-air balls, rides,
lawn fêtes, all made particularly attractive by the affability
of the young queen, who showed each guest some particular
attention; all departed enchanted with the place and its
delights and, especially, with the graciousness of the royal
hostess. There all artists and authors of France were encouraged
and patronized—with the exception of Voltaire;
the queen refused to patronize a man whose view upon
morality had caused so much trouble.</p>
<p>Music and the drama received especial protection from
her. The triumph of Gluck's <i>Iphigénie en Aulide</i>, in 1774,
was the first victory of Marie Antoinette over the former
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page344" id="page344"></a>[pg 344]</span>
mistress and the Piccini party. This was the second
musical quarrel in France, the first having occurred in
1754, between the lovers of French and Italian music,
with Mme. de Pompadour as protectress. After Gluck
had monopolized the French opera for eight years, the
Italian, Piccini, was brought from Italy in 1776. Quinault's
<i>Roland</i> was arranged for him by Marmontel and
was presented in 1778, unsuccessfully; Gluck presented
his <i>Iphigénie en Aulide</i>, and no opera ever received such
general approbation. "The scene was all uproar and confusion,
demoniacal enthusiasm; women threw their gloves,
fans, lace kerchiefs, at the actors; men stamped and yelled;
the enthusiasm of the public reached actual frenzy. All
did honor to the composer and to the queen."</p>
<p>Marie Antoinette, however, also gave Piccini her protection.
Gluck, armed with German theories and supporting
French music, maintained for dramatic interest,
the subordination of music to poetry, the union or close
relation of song and recitative; whereas, the Italian opera
represented by Piccini had no dramatic unity, no great
ensembles, nothing but short airs, detached, without connection—no
substance, but mere ornamentation. Gluck
proved, also, that tragedy could be introduced in opera,
while Piccini maintained that opera could embrace only the
fable—the marvellous and fairylike. This musical quarrel
became a veritable national issue, every salon, the Academy,
and all clubs being partisans of one or the other theory;
it did much to mould the later French and German music,
and much credit is due the queen for the support given and
the intelligence displayed in so important an issue.</p>
<p>All singers, actors, writers, geniuses in all things, were
sure of welcome and protection from Marie Antoinette; but
she permitted her passion for the theatre to carry her to
extremes unbecoming her position, for she consorted with
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page345" id="page345"></a>[pg 345]</span>
comedians, played their parts, and associated with them
as though they were her equals. Such conduct as this,
and her exclusiveness in court circles, encouraged calumny.
Versailles was deserted by the best families, and all the
pomp and traditions of the French monarchs were abandoned.
The king, in sanctioning these amusements at the
"Little Trianon," lost the respect and esteem of the nobility,
but the queen was held responsible for all evil,—for
the deficit in the treasury, and the increase in taxes; to
such an extent was she blamed, that the tide of public
popularity turned and she was regarded with suspicion, envy, and even hatred.</p>
<p>In the spring of 1777 the queen's brother, the Emperor
Joseph II. of Austria, arrived in Paris for a visit to his
sister and the court of France. The relations between him
and Marie Antoinette became quite intimate; the emperor,
always disposed to be critical, did not hesitate to warn his
sister of the dangers of her situation, pointing out to her
her weakness in thus being led on by her love of pleasure,
and the deplorable consequences which this weakness
would infallibly entail in the future. The queen acknowledged
the justness of the emperor's reasoning, and, though
often deeply offended by his frankness and severity, she
determined upon reform. This resolution was, to some
extent, influenced by the hope of pregnancy; so, when
her expectations in that direction proved to be without
foundation, so keen was the disappointment thus occasioned,
that, in order to forget it, she plunged into dissipation
to such an extent that it soon developed into a
veritable passion. Bitterly disappointed, vexed with a
husband whose coldness constantly irritated her ardent
nature, fretful and nervous, there naturally developed a
morbid state of mind which explains the impetuosity with
which she attempted to escape from herself.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page346" id="page346"></a>[pg 346]</span>
<p>In December, 1778, a daughter was born to the queen,
and she welcomed her with these words: "Poor little one,
you are not desired, but you will be none the less dear to
me! A son would have belonged to the state—you will
belong to me." After this event the queen gave herself
up to thoughts and pursuits of a more serious nature.
In 1779 the dauphin was born, and from that period Marie
Antoinette considered herself no longer a foreigner.</p>
<p>After the death of Maurepas, minister and counsellor to
the king, the queen became more influential in court matters.
She relieved the indolent monarch of much responsibility,
but only to hand it over to her favorites. The
period from 1781 to 1785 was the most brilliant of the
court of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, one of dissipation
and extravagance, the rich <i>bourgeoisie</i> vying with the
nobility in their luxurious style of living and in lavish
expenditure. "The finest silks that Lyons could weave,
the most beautiful laces that Alençon could produce, the
most gorgeous equipages, the most expensive furniture,
inlaid and carved, the tapestry of Beauvais and the porcelain
of Sèvres—all were in the greatest demand." Necker
was replaced by incompetent ministers, the treasury was
depleted, and the poor became more and more restless and
threatening. Once more, and with increased vehemence,
was heard the cry: <i>A bas l'Autrichienne!</i></p>
<p>During the American war of the Revolution, Marie Antoinette
was always favorable to the Colonial cause, protecting
La Fayette and encouraging all volunteers of the
nobility, who embarked for America in great numbers.
She presented Washington with a full-length portrait of
herself, loudly and publicly proclaiming her sympathy for
things American. She assured Rochambeau of her good
will, and procured for La Fayette a high command in the
<i>corps d'armée</i> which was to be sent to America. When
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page347" id="page347"></a>[pg 347]</span>
Necker and other ministers were negotiating for peace,
from 1781 to 1785, she persisted in asserting that American
independence should be acknowledged; and when it
was declared, she rejoiced as at no political event in her own country.</p>
<p>Her political adventures were few; in fact, she disliked
politics and desired to keep aloof from the intrigues of the
ministers. She may have been instrumental in the downfall
of Necker—at least, she secured the appointment, as
minister of finance, of the worthless Calonne, who, it will
be remembered, brought about the ruin of France in a
short period. In time, however, the queen recognized his
worthlessness and would have nothing to do with him,
thus making in him another implacable enemy.</p>
<p>Events were fast diminishing the popularity of the
queen. When, after the long-disputed question of presenting
the <i>Marriage of Figaro</i>, she herself undertook to
play in <i>The Barber of Seville</i> in her theatre at the Trianon,
she overstepped the bounds of propriety. Then followed
the affair of the diamond necklace, in which the worst,
most cunning, and most notorious rogues abused the name
of the queen. That was the great adventure of the eighteenth
century. Boehmer, the court jeweler, had, in a
number of years, procured a collection of stones for an
incomparable necklace. This was intended for Mme. du
Barry, but Boehmer offered it to the queen, who refused
to purchase it, and he considered himself ruined. It may
be well to add that the queen had previously purchased
a pair of diamond earrings which had been ordered by
Louis XV. for his mistress; for those ornaments she paid
almost half her annual pin money, amounting to nine
hundred thousand francs. The jeweler, therefore, had
good reason to hope that she would relieve him of the necklace.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page348" id="page348"></a>[pg 348]</span>
<p>An adventuress, a Mme. de La Motte, acquainted at
court and also with the Prince Louis de Rohan, who had
incurred the displeasure of the queen, informed the cardinal
that Marie Antoinette was willing to again extend to
him her favor. She counterfeited notes, and even went
so far as to appoint a meeting at midnight in the park at
Versailles. The supposed queen who appeared was no
other than an English girl, who dropped a rose with the
words: "You know what that means." The cardinal was
informed that the queen desired to buy the necklace, but
that it was to be kept secret—it was to be purchased for
her by a great noble, who was to remain unknown. All
necessary papers were signed, and the necklace turned
over to the Prince de Rohan, who, in turn, intrusted it to
Mme. de La Motte to be given to the queen; but the agent
was not long in having it taken apart, and soon her husband
was selling diamonds in great quantities to English jewelers.</p>
<p>In time, as no payments were received and no favors
were shown by the queen, an investigation followed. The
result was a trial which lasted nine months; the cardinal
was declared not guilty, the signature of the queen false,
Mme. de La Motte was sentenced to be whipped, branded,
and imprisoned for life, and her husband was condemned
to the galleys. Nevertheless, much censure fell to the
share of the queen. It was the beginning of the end of
her reign as a favorite whose faults could be condoned.
She was beginning to reap the fruits of her former dissipations.
In about 1787, when she least deserved it, she
became the butt of calumny, intrigues, and pamphlets.</p>
<p>During these years she was the most devoted of mothers;
she personally looked after her four children, watched by
their bedsides when they were ill, shutting herself up with
them in the château so that they would not communicate
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page349" id="page349"></a>[pg 349]</span>
their disease to the children who played in the park. In
1785 the king purchased Saint-Cloud and presented it to
the queen, together with six millions in her own right,
to enjoy and dispose of as she pleased. That act added
the last straw to the burden of resentment of the overwrought
public; from that time she was known as "Madame
Deficit." Also she was accused of having sent her brother,
Joseph II., one hundred million livres in three years. She
was hissed at the opera. In 1788 there were many who
refused to dance with the queen. In the preceding year a
caricature was openly sold, showing Louis XVI. and his
queen seated at a sumptuous table, while a starving crowd
surrounded them; it bore the legend: "The king drinks,
the queen eats, while the people cry!" Calonne, minister
of finance, an intimate friend of the Polignacs, but in disfavor
with the queen, also made common cause with the
enemies, in songs and perfidious insinuations. Upon his
fall, in 1787, the queen's position became even worse.</p>
<p>The last period of the life of the queen, La Rocheterie
calls the militant period—it was one in which the joy of
living was no more; trouble, sorrows upon sorrows, and
anxieties replaced the former care-free, happy radiance of
her youth. At the reunion of the States-General, while
the country at large was full of confidence and the king
was still a hero, the queen was the one dark spot; calumny
had done its work—the whole country seemed to be saturated
with an implacable hatred and prejudice against her
whom they considered the source of all evil. Throughout
the ceremonies attending the States-General, the queen
was received with the same ominous silence; no one lifted
his voice to cheer her, but the Duc d'Orléans was always
applauded, to her humiliation.</p>
<p>Whatever may have been the faults and excesses of
her youth, their period was over and in their place arose
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page350" id="page350"></a>[pg 350]</span>
all the noble sentiments so long dormant. When the king
was about to go to Paris as the prisoner of the infuriated
mob, La Fayette asked the queen: "Madame, what is your
personal intention?" "I know the fate which awaits me,
but my duty is to die at the feet of the king and in the
arms of my children," replied the queen. During the following
days of anxiety she showed wonderful courage and
graciousness, "winning much popularity by her serene
dignity, the incomparable charm which pervaded her whole
person, and her affability."</p>
<p>Upon the urgent request of the queen the Polignac set
departed, and Mme. de Lamballe endeavored to do the
honors for the queen, by receptions three times a week,
given to make friends in the Assembly. At those functions
all conditions of people assembled, and instead of
the witty, brilliant conversations of the old salon there
were politics, conspiracies, plots; instead of the gay and
laughing faces of the old times there were the worn and
anxious faces of weary, discouraged men and women.
There was, indeed, a sad contrast between the gay, frivolous,
haughty queen of the early days, and this captive
queen—submissive, dignified, "majestic in her bearing,
heroic, and reconciled to her awful fate."</p>
<p>Her period of imprisonment, the cruelty, neglect, inadequate
food and garments, her torture and indescribable
sufferings, the insults of the crowd and the newspapers,
her heroic death, all belong to history. "The first crime
of the Revolution was the death of the king, but the most
frightful was the death of the queen." Napoleon said:
"The queen's death was a crime worse than regicide."
"A crime absolutely unjustifiable," adds La Rocheterie,
"since it had no pretext whatever to offer as an excuse; a
crime eminently impolitic, since it struck down a foreign
princess, the most sacred of hostages; a crime beyond
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page351" id="page351"></a>[pg 351]</span>
measure, since the victim was a woman who possessed honors without power."</p>
<p>Because Marie Antoinette played a romantic rôle in
French history, it is quite natural to find conflicting and
contradictory opinions among her biographers. The most
conflicting may be summed up in these words: the queen's
influence upon the Revolution was great—her extravagances,
her haughty bearing, her scorn of the etiquette of
royalty, her enemies, her prejudices, the arrests which
she caused, etc. Then her pernicious influence upon the
king, after the breaking out of the Revolution—she caused
his hesitancy, which led to such disastrous results, and his
plan of annihilating the States Assembly; the gathering of
the foreign troops and his many contradictory and uncertain
commands were all laid at her door, making of her an
important and guilty party to the Revolution. Another
estimate is more humane and, probably, is the result of
cooler reflection, yet is not always accepted by Frenchmen
or the world at large. It represents her as neither saint
nor sinner, but as a pure, fascinating woman, always
chaste, though somewhat rash and frivolous. Proud and
energetic, if inconsiderate in her political actions and somewhat
too impulsive in the selection of friends upon whom
to bestow her favors, she is yet worthy of the title of
queen by the very dignity of her bearing; always a true
woman, seductive and tender of heart, she became a martyr
"through the extremity of her trials and her triumphant death."</p>
<p>Although history makes Marie Antoinette a central figure
during the reign of Louis XVI. and the period of the Revolution,
yet her personal influence was practically limited
to the domain of the social world of customs and manners;
her political influence issued mainly from or was due to the
concatenation of conditions and circumstances, the results
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page352" id="page352"></a>[pg 352]</span>
of her friends' doings, while her social triumphs were
products of her own activity. The two women—her intimate
friends—who during this period were of greatest
prominence, who owed their elevation and standing entirely
to the queen, were women of whom little has survived.
In her time, Mme. de Polignac was an influential
woman, wielding tremendous power, contributing largely
to the shaping and climaxing of France's fate; yet this
influence was centred in reality in the Polignac set, which
was composed of the most important, daring, and consummate
intriguers that the court of France had ever seen.
She escaped the guillotine, and by doing so escaped the attention of posterity.</p>
<p>Mme. de Lamballe, who wrote nothing, did nothing, effected
nothing, is better known to the world at large, is
more respected and honored, than is Mme. de Polignac or
even the great salon leaders such as Mme. de Genlis or
Mlle. de Lespinasse. She owes this prominence to her
undying devotion to her queen, to her marvellous beauty,
and to her tragic death on the guillotine. She was not
even bright or witty, the essentials of greatness among
French women—not one <i>bon mot</i> has survived her; but
she may well be placed by the side of her queen for one
sublime virtue, too rare in those days,—chastity. She
was Princess of Sardinia; upon the request of the Duke
of Penthièvre to Louis XV. to select a wife for his son,
the Prince of Lamballe, she was chosen. A year after the
marriage the prince died; and although the marriage had
not been a happy one, because of the dissolute life of the
prince, his wife forgave him, and "sorrowed for him as though he deserved it."</p>
<p>When in 1768 the queen died, two parties immediately
formed, the object of both of them being to provide
Louis XV. with a wife: one may be called the reform
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page353" id="page353"></a>[pg 353]</span>
party, striving to keep the old king in the paths of decency;
while the other was composed of the typical eighteenth
century intriguers, endeavoring to revive the "grand
old times." The candidate of the former was Mme. de
Lamballe, that of the latter, the dissolute Duchesse du
Barry. This state of affairs was made possible by the
disagreement of the political and social schemes of the
court and ministry. Soon after, in 1770, the king negotiated
the marriage of Marie Antoinette and the dauphin,
and from that time began the friendship of the future
queen and the Princesse de Lamballe. Entering the unfamiliar
circle of this highly debauched court, the young
dauphiness sought a sympathetic friend, and found her in
the princess. No figure in that society was more disinterested
and unselfishly devoted. In all the queen's undertakings,
fêtes, and other amusements, she was inseparable
from the princess, who was indeed a rare exception to the
majority of the women of that time.</p>
<p>The friendship of these two women was uninterrupted,
save for a period extending from 1778 to 1785, when
Mme. de Polignac and her set of intriguers succeeded in
estranging them and usurping all the favors of the queen.
When the outside world was accrediting to Marie Antoinette
every popular misfortune, when she lost by death both the
dauphin and the Princess Beatrice, when fate was against
her, when the future promised nothing but evil, she found
no stauncher friend, better consoler, more ardent admirer,
than her old companion. Learning of the removal of the
royal family to the Tuileries, she rejoined the queen. In
1791, with the escape of the royal fugitives, the princess
left for England, to seek the protection of the English government
for her royal friends.</p>
<p>Mr. Dobson says she was scarcely the <i>discrète et insinuante
et touchante Lamballe</i>, with a marvellous sang-froid,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page354" id="page354"></a>[pg 354]</span>
hardly the astute diplomatist, that De Lescure makes her.
"She was rather the quiet, imposing Lamballe of old, interested
in her friends and what she could do for them, but
never shrewd and diplomatic." In November she returned
to France, to meet her queen and to suffer death for her
sake,—and for this unswerving devotion she has a place
in history. She stands out also as the one normal woman
in the crowds of impetuous, shallow, petty, and, in many
cases, pitifully debauched women of the time. Not majestic
greatness, but a direct, unaffected sweetness and consistent
goodness entitle her to rank among the great women of France.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page355" id="page355"></a>[pg 355]</span>
<h2>Chapter XIII</h2>
<h2>Women of the Revolution and the Empire</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page357" id="page357"></a>[pg 357]</span>
<p>Many women of the revolutionary period have no claim
for mention other than a last glorious moment on the
guillotine—"ennobled and endeared by the self-possession
and dignity with which they faced death, their whole life
seems to have been lived for that one moment." The
society which had brought on and stirred up the Revolution
was enervated and febrile. Paris was one large
kennel of libellers and pamphleteers and intriguers. The
salon frequenters were trained conversationalists and brilliant
beauties who danced and drank, discoursed and intrigued.
It was a superficial elegance, with virtue only
assumed. The art of pleasing had been developed to perfection,
but, instead of the actual accomplishments of the
old régime, there was merely the outward appearance—luxury,
dress, and magnificence; the bearing and language
were of the ambitious common people. "The great women
are those who, the day before, were taken from the cellar
or garret of the salon."</p>
<p>During the Directorate, luxury and libertinism reigned
almost as absolutely as during the monarchy. Barras was
supreme. He had his mistress, or <i>maîtresse-en-titre</i>, in the
beautiful Mme. Tallien, the queen of beauty of the salon of
<i>la mode</i>. Ease and dissolute enjoyment were the aims
of Barras, and in these his mistress was his equal. They
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page358" id="page358"></a>[pg 358]</span>
gave the most sumptuous dinners, prepared by the famous
chefs of the late aristocratic kitchens, while the people
were starving or living on black bread. She impudently
arrayed herself in the crown diamonds and appeared at
the reception given to Napoleon.</p>
<p>The salons under the Empire are said to have preserved
French politeness, courtesy, and the usages of <i>la bonne
compagnie</i>, but intolerance and tyranny reigned there; the
spirit of intrigue only was obeyed. From the beginning
of the Revolution to the Empire, it may be said that the
streets of Paris from one end to the other were a wild
turmoil of people in fever heat—ready for any crime or
cruelty, anxious for anything promising excitement. Where
formerly the elegant lovers of the nobility were wont to
promenade, the rabid populace held undisputed possession.</p>
<p>These were years, about 1780 to 1800, during which
women shared the same fate with men; and, consigned to
the same prisons, ever resigned and ready to die for principle,
they knew how to die nobly. It was truly an age
of the martyrdom of woman—an age in which she lived,
through almost superhuman conditions, at the side of man.
She was all-powerful, triumphant as never before; not,
however, through her intellectual superiority as in the
previous age, but through her courage. There was not one
powerful woman standing out alone, but groups of them,
hosts of them. It was during the Directorate especially
that woman controlled almost every phase of activity.</p>
<p>The woman who embodied all the heterogeneous vices
of the past nobility and the rising plebs was Mme. Tallien,
the goddess of vice and of the vulgar display of wealth.
Her caprices were scrupulously followed, while about her
jealousy and slanders were thick. Then immorality had
no veil, but was low, brutish, and open to everyone. With
the accession of Napoleon to absolute power, there was a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page359" id="page359"></a>[pg 359]</span>
fusion of the element just described with the remnant of
the old régime. Josephine soon formed a select and congenial
social circle, excluding Mme. Tallien and the Directorate
adherents. Evidences of saddening memories of the
past and a general gloom were visible everywhere in this
circle. The disappointment of the nobility on returning
from their exile was somewhat lessened by the very select
bi-weekly reunions in the salon of Talleyrand, and by
the brilliant suppers of the old régime, which were revived
at the Hôtel d'Anjou.</p>
<p>The salon of Mme. de Staël was a political debating club
rather than a purely social reunion. She being an ardent
Republican, it was in her salon that the Royalist plot to
bring back the Bourbons was overthrown. In a short
time there were a number of brilliant salons, each one
showing a nature as distinct as those of the eighteenth
century. Thus, Joseph Bonaparte received the distinguished
governmentals and the intriguing women of
society at the Château de Mortfoulaine; at Lucien Bonaparte's
hôtel youth and beauty assembled; at Mme. de
Permon's salon there were music and conversation, tea,
lemonade, and biscuits, twice a week. It remains but to
characterize these different ages of French social and
political evolution by the great women who, each one of
her age, are the representative types.</p>
<p>The woman who, during the Revolution, not only added
her name to the long list of martyrs, but who also made
history and contributed to the very nature of those days
of terror and uncertainty, was Mme. Roland, whom critics
both extol and condemn—the fate of all historical characters.
It would be difficult to estimate this remarkable
person and her work without some details of her life.</p>
<p>When a mere girl she showed signs of a tempestuous
future; she was seductive, but impulsive, with an inborn
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page360" id="page360"></a>[pg 360]</span>
love for the common people—which is not always credited
to her—and for democracy. These qualities were quickened
during her experience at Versailles, for while there
for a few days' visit she saw the pitiless social world in all
its orgies, revelries of luxury, and wanton extravagances.
There, also, she contracted that deep-seated hatred for the queen and royalty.</p>
<p>There was, indeed, a long list of suitors for the hand of
the impulsive maiden; but owing to her views as to a husband
and her restless, unsettled state of mind, she could
not decide upon any one of them. To her mother, when
urged to accept one, she said: "I should not like a husband
to order me about, for he would teach me only to
resist him; but neither do I wish to rule my husband.
Either I am much mistaken, or those creatures, six feet
high, with beard on their chins, seldom fail to make us feel
that they are stronger; now, if the good man should suddenly
bethink himself to remind me of his strength he
would provoke me, and if he submitted to me he would
make me feel ashamed of my power." For such a woman
marriage was certainly a difficult problem. Finally, Roland
de la Platières came within her circle; and although somewhat
adverse to him at first, after a number of his visits
she wrote: "I have been much charmed by the solidity of
his judgment and his cultured and interesting conversation."
Just such a man appealed to her nature and was
in harmony with her views. After months of monotonous
life in the convent to which she had retired, she at last
consented to become the wife of Roland, not from expectations
of any fortune, but purely from a sense of devoting
herself to the happiness of an honorable man, to making his life sweeter.</p>
<p>Roland, scrupulously conscientious, painstaking, and observing,
had won the position of inspector of manufactures,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page361" id="page361"></a>[pg 361]</span>
which took him away on foreign travels part of the time.
He had acquired a thorough knowledge of manufacturing
and the principles of political economy. The first years
of their life were spent in each other's society exclusively,
as he was insanely jealous of her; she rarely left his side,
and they studied the same works, copied and revised his
manuscripts, and corrected his proofs. In this she was
indispensable to him. But her activity did not stop with
literary work; she managed her husband's household, and
for miles around her home the peasants soon learned to
know her through her charitable deeds. She was the village
doctor, often going for miles to attend the poor in distress.
With her own hands she prepared dainty dishes
with which to tempt her husband's appetite. Thus, her
best years were spent upon things for which much less
ability would have sufficed. She watched with breathless
interest the installation of Necker and the dismissal
of Turgot, the convocation of the notables, the struggles for
financial recovery, and, finally, the calling of a States-General,
which had not been in session since 1614. During
the first stormy years, 1789-1790, she wrote burning
missives to her friend Bosc, at Paris, which appeared
anonymously in the <i>Patriote Français</i>, edited by Brissot,
the future Girondist leader. Soon came the commission of
Roland as the first citizen of the city of Lyons, which had
a debt of forty million francs, to acquaint the National
Assembly with its affairs.</p>
<p>When, in 1791, Mme. Roland arrived at Paris—for she
accompanied her husband—she had already become an
ardent Republican. She immediately threw herself into
the whirlwind of popular enthusiasm. Her house became
the centre of an advanced political group, which met
there four times a week to discuss state questions. There
Danton, Robespierre, Pétion, Condorcet, Buzot, and others
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page362" id="page362"></a>[pg 362]</span>
were seen. She ably aided her husband in all his work as
commissioner to the National Assembly. She was indefatigable
in penning stirring letters and petitions to the
Jacobin societies in the different departments. A staunch
friend of Robespierre, she did much to protect him in his
first efforts in public. On returning home, after her husband
had completed his mission, she was no longer the
same quiet, contented, submissive woman; she longed for
activity in the midst of excitement.</p>
<p>With the meeting of the Legislative Assembly, in 1791,
the group of men sent up from the Gironde immediately
became the leaders, and when Mme. Roland returned to
Paris she became the centre of this circle, exhorting and
stimulating, advising and ordering. Through her friend
Brissot, who was all-powerful in the Assembly, about
February, 1792, as leader of the Girondists, who were
looking for men not yet practically involved in politics,
but qualified by experience for political life, her husband
was made minister of the interior, and in March, 1792, he
and his wife entered upon their duties. She was a keen
reader of human nature, at first glance giving her husband
a penetrating and generally truthful judgment of men.
Being able to comprehend the temperaments of the ministers,
she managed them with inimitable tact. Although all
the Girondist ministers were supposed friends, she readily
saw how difficult it would be for a small group of men with
the same principles to act in concert. Seeing the political
machine in motion at close range, she lost some of her
enthusiasm for revolutionary leaders; above all, she recognized
the need of a great leader. As wife of the minister,
installed in the ministerial residence with no other
woman present, she gave two dinners weekly to her husband's
colleagues, to the members of the Assembly, and to political friends.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page363" id="page363"></a>[pg 363]</span>
<p>Her husband, the French Quaker of the Revolution, in
all his simplicity of dress and honesty, was being constantly
duped by the apparent good nature and sincerity
of the king, against whom his wife was constantly warning
him. It was she who, convinced of the king's duplicity
and the need of a safeguard for the country, originated
the plan of a federate camp of twenty thousand men to
protect Paris when war had been declared against Austria.
It was she who wrote a letter to the king in the name of
the council, but sent in Roland's own name, imploring him
not to arouse the mistrust of the nation by constantly betraying
his suspicion of it, but to show his love by adopting
measures for the welfare and safety of the country.
The effect of this letter, which became historical, was the
fall of the ministers. After their recall, her husband became
more and more powerful. The political circulars which
were published by his paper, <i>The Sentinel</i>, were composed
by her. Then came the horrible massacres and executions
by the hundreds, which inspired Mme. Roland with
hatred for Danton, a feeling she communicated to the
whole Girondist party. She desired above everything to
see punished the perpetrators of the September massacres.
In this plan the Girondists failed. Robespierre, Danton, and
Marat were victorious, and Mme. Roland and her party fell.</p>
<p>When all parties and the whole populace vied with each
other in welcoming back the victorious General Dumouriez,
there seemed to be a possibility of a reconciliation between
Danton and Mme. Roland, for when the general went to
dine with her he presented her with a bouquet of magnificent
oleanders. This dinner, on October 14th, auguring
good fortune to all, was the last success of Mme. Roland.
She had been pushed to the very front of the Revolution.
She coöperated in composing and promulgating the
numerous writings of her husband by which public opinion
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page364" id="page364"></a>[pg 364]</span>
was to be instructed. But she retained her implacable
hatred for Danton, who, when her husband, ready to resign,
was pressed to remain in office, cried out in the convention:
"Why not invite Mme. Roland to the ministry,
too! everyone knows that Roland is not alone in the
office!" At this period her husband made the fatal mistake
of appropriating a chest of important state papers and
examining them himself instead of calling together a commission.
As is known, the papers turned out to be fatal
to Louis XVI. Libels and denunciations were pronounced
against Roland, but his wife, called before the convention,
not only succeeded in turning aside all accusations, but
was voted the honors of the sitting.</p>
<p>At the time of the trial of the king, the power and influence
of the Girondists were waning; then the Rolands became
the butt of many violent and unreasonable outbursts.
With the resignation of Roland on January 22, 1792, the
day of the execution of the king, the fate of the Girondists
was sealed. This time the minister was not asked to reconsider;
in fact, his exposure of the pilfering then going
on among the officials made him one of the most unpopular
men in Paris. Upon their return to private life, Mme.
Roland was accused of forming the plot to destroy the
republic. When an armed force arrived one morning at
half-past five o'clock to arrest her husband, she resisted
them, herself going to the convention to expose the iniquity
of such a proceeding. Failing in this, she returned to her
husband, to find him safe with a friend. Being again arrested,
she met the ordeal with her accustomed courage;
and when the officers offered to pull down the blinds of
the carriage, to shield her from the gaze of the unfriendly
public, she said: "No, gentlemen! innocence, however
oppressed, should not assume the attitude of guilt. I fear
the eyes of no one, and do not wish to escape even those
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page365" id="page365"></a>[pg 365]</span>
of my enemies." "You have much more character than
many men," they replied; "you can calmly await justice,"
"Justice!" she cried; "if it existed, I should not be in
your power! I would go to the scaffold as calmly as if
sent by iniquitous men. I fear only guilt, and despise injustice and death!"</p>
<p>She has been deeply criticised for her letters written to
her friend Buzot while she was in prison; yet it should be
remembered that there was not the slightest chance of
their meeting again, and, besides, the letters reveal the
terrible struggle through which she had passed. While
in prison, her beauty, grace, and fearlessness won and
humanized nearly all who came under her spell. She was
once unexpectedly set at liberty, but only to be sentenced
to the lowest of prisons—Sainte-Pélagie. There, in the
space of about one month, her memoirs, now among the
French classics, were written. At the Conciergerie, where
the lowest criminals and the filthiest paupers were crowded
into cells with the highest of the nobility, and where the
cowardly Mme. du Barry spent her last hours, Mme. Roland,
by her quiet dignity and patient serenity, commanded
silence and respect, and calmness and peace replaced angry
and pitiful wrangling. The prisoners clung to her, crying
and kissing her hand, while she spoke words of advice and
consolation to the doomed women, who "looked upon her
as a beneficent divinity." Her conduct under these circumstances
alone is sufficient to keep alive her memory.
In the last days, she clung to and upheld most passionately
her principles of liberty and moderation, and in her conversation
with Beugnot it was evident that she had been
the real inspiration in the Girondist party for all that was
best and most uplifting.</p>
<p>The charge against her when before the bar of judgment
of Fouquier-Tinville, the terrible prosecutor, consisted in
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page366" id="page366"></a>[pg 366]</span>
her relation to the Girondists who had been condemned to
death as traitors to the republic. She met her death heroically,
as became a woman who had lived bravely. At
the very last moment of her life, she offered consolation
to fellow victims. Her death was that of the greatest
heroine of the Revolution, the climax of a life the one
ambition of which had been to save her country and to
shed her blood for it. As she rode through the city in her
pure white raiment, serenely radiant in her own innocence,
she was the embodiment of all that was highest and
purest in the Revolution—one of the best and greatest
women known to French history. She stands out as a
representative of the French Republic.</p>
<p>There are a number of traits of Mme. Roland which
should be considered before giving a final estimate of her
character, of her rôle in French history, and of her right
to be ranked among the most illustrious women of France.
Critics in general seem to show her a marked hostility;
such men as Caro assert that she had no modesty, that
she lacked sentiment, delicacy, and reserve. M. Saint-Amand
said that she reflected the vices and virtues of her
age, summing up the passions and illusions, being intellectually
and morally the disciple of Rousseau, but socially
personifying the third estate, which in the beginning asked
for nothing, but later demanded all. Politics made her
cruel at times, although by nature she was good and sensible.
He declared that with her acquaintance with Buzot
began her career of love and ambition. In love, she believed
herself a patriot, but all the various phases of her
public career were simply the results of her emotions.
Thus, for example, in order to see Buzot, she persuaded
her husband to return to Paris to seek his fortune and
make the realization of her dreams possible. She desired
to play a rôle for which her origin had not destined her,
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page367" id="page367"></a>[pg 367]</span>
which made her actions appear theatrical and affected. It
is evident that she hated both the king and the queen, and
at the council for the Girondist ministry demanded the
death of the royal couple. And yet, Saint-Amand cites
her as the most beautiful of that group of martyrs who
lost their lives in the first heat of the Revolution—as the
genius among them by her force, purity, and grace—the
brilliant and austere muse in all the saintliness of martyrdom.</p>
<p>The two maxims which Mme. Roland followed throughout
her career had much to do with her fall: security is
the tomb of liberty; indulgence toward men in authority
is the means of pushing them to despotism. These maxims
as her motto or impulse, united with the spirit of push,
energy, and at times rashness and impropriety, naturally
led her to her ruin in those days of revolutionary ideas.
She was a woman of powerful passion controlled by reason,
and with frankness, devotion, courage, and fidelity as
forces impelling her to activity. But there was one great
defect which was at the bottom of her misfortunes,—a too
great ambition, which often led her into perilous paths,
even to the scaffold, which, in its turn, covered her errors.</p>
<p>She is said to have married M. Roland more as a theory
than as a husband, for her ideas of marriage were such as
to make pure, disinterested love impossible. Her husband
was in many respects her intellectual superior, but she
excelled him in versatility. Being her senior by twenty
years, when he grew old and infirm he depended upon her
for a great deal, all of which contributed to her restlessness
and unhappiness. Then there developed in her that
terrible struggle between loyalty to her husband and passion
for Buzot, in which reason conquered. This devotion
to duty was indeed rare in those days, when passion was
supreme and pure love was almost unknown. Mr. Dobson
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page368" id="page368"></a>[pg 368]</span>
says that this one trait by which she gave real expression
of virtue is profoundly a product of her mental self. Her
instinct would have led her to self-abandonment, so
common in that day, but her "man by the head" self
was stronger than her "woman by the heart" self. These
two sides of her character, fostered by incessant reading,
incited her fearful and unrelenting hatreds as well as her
passion, "masculine enough to be mistrusted and feminine
enough to be admired." These two qualities made her a
power and an attraction. Her better side will continue to
shine clearer as the horror of those days is revealed.
Whatever may be the effects of her ambitious nature and
of her unfortunate passion for Buzot, by the very virtue of
her intellect and reasoning she will remain the one great
woman of the Revolution who willingly and conscientiously
sacrificed her life for her country.</p>
<p>A type perhaps more universally known in her relation
to the Revolution than is Mme. Roland, though no better
understood, was Charlotte Corday. Possessed of a most
intense patriotism and an unusual emotional nature, she
represented better than any other woman of her age the
peculiar French trait—namely, the emotional perfectly
combined with the mathematical. She was unique; her
compatriots practised the art of studying themselves, in
order to be attractive, and thus accomplished their ends,
while her ambition was not to please merely, but to be of
some real, practical value to her troubled country. She
stands out, however, as the product of the end of the
eighteenth century, a natural result of the reading of
philosophy and political pamphlets. Quite naturally, she
entertained such philosophical sentiments as this: "No
one will lose in losing me, and the country may be better
off for the sacrifice. Death comes only once, and let us
use it to the good of the country or the greatest number of
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page369" id="page369"></a>[pg 369]</span>
people." Thus, her philosophy led her to a complete
detachment from her individual self, and fostered the idea
of dying for her country.</p>
<p>Her decision to rid France of Marat was arrived at by
degrees of silent brooding over the evils which beset her
native land; at last she felt herself called to some great
act which would necessitate the loss of her life. "The
time brought forth desperation, intense warmth of feeling,
concentrated upon some purpose or object;" the reasoning
self seemed to be stifled by the intensity of the emotion.
Yet, reason was to conquer in her. When the Girondists
returned to Caen and described Robespierre and Marat in
the darkest colors, she at once felt moved to put forth all
her efforts to rid France of that evil blot—Marat. She
was beautiful, strong, and graceful, presenting a most
striking appearance. Loved by all, she felt love and
devotion only for her country. Desperate and determined,
she set out to fulfil her mission. She was a mere expression
of the conservative element which acts only when
driven by sheer necessity. Her reason impressed her
with her duty and circumstances; the time acted upon
her mind. "Easy, calm, resigned, she looked upon the
angry masses of people who cursed her," confident that
she had done her country a service, and proud that she
had been the fortunate one to render it. This was her
glory, and for this she will be remembered in history.</p>
<p>Possibly the rarest phenomenon in the history of the
illustrious women of France is Mme. Récamier, who, by
force of her beauty and social fascination, and without intellectual
gifts or even wit, won for herself the position of
queen of French society, which she held for nearly half a
century. The very name of Récamier has come to evoke
a vision of beauty, a beauty so well known to every lover
of art who has visited the Luxembourg and gazed upon the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page370" id="page370"></a>[pg 370]</span>
figure "so flexible and elegant, with head well poised,
brilliant complexion, little rosy mouth with pearly teeth,
black curling hair, soft expressive eyes, and a bearing indicative
of indolence and pride, yet with a face beaming
with good nature and sympathy." Her beauty has been
considered perfect, but a recent writer has proved this to
be an error. M.J. Turquan, in a new volume on Mme.
Récamier, is everything but sympathetic to the woman at
whom criticism has rarely been pointed. "Quite a contrast
to her extraordinary beauty of face," he declares,
"were her hands, with big fingers square at the end and
having flat nails. The same may be said of her feet,
which were not only big, but were without the slightest
trace of <i>finesse</i> in their lines." But though Turquan has
raised numerous points in her disfavor, they are not at all
likely to detract from her unrivalled reputation for beauty.</p>
<p>Critics have made of her a sort of enigmatic figure,
supernatural and having only the form of the human.
Thus, in Lamartine we find the following description:
"The young girl was, they say, a <i>sous-entendu</i> of nature:
she could be a wife, she could not be a mother. These are
the two mysteries we must respect, but which we must
know to have been the secret of the entire life of Mme.
Récamier—a mournful and eternal enigma which will never
have its words divined,... All her looks produced an
intoxication, but brought hope to no heart. The divine
statue had not descended from its pedestal for anyone,
as though such a performance would have been too divine
for a mortal." Her beauty was so marked, so singular,
that wherever she appeared—at the ball, the theatre—it
caused a sensation; all turned to look at her and admire in
subdued astonishment. Her form was said to be marvellously
elegant and supple, her neck of an exquisite perfection,
her mouth "deliciously small and pink, her teeth
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page371" id="page371"></a>[pg 371]</span>
veritable pearls set in coral, her arms splendidly moulded,
her eyes full of sweetness and admiration, her nose most
attractive in its regularity, her physiognomy candid and
spiritual, her air indolent and haughty, and her attitude reserved.
Before this ensemble, you remained in ecstasy."
All this beauty was particularly well set off by an exquisite
white dress adorned with pearls—a style she affected the year around.</p>
<p>But her beauty alone could hardly have contributed to
the marvellous success of Mme. Récamier, as some critics
assert. Guizot, for instance, suspects her nature to have
been less superficial than other writers might lead one to
suppose. He said: "This passionate admiration, this constant
affection, this insatiable taste for society and conversation,
won her a wide friendship. All who approached
and knew her—foreigners and Frenchmen, princes and the
middle classes, saints and worldlings, philosophers and
artists, adversaries as well as partisans—all she inspired
with the ideas and causes she espoused." Her qualities
outside of her beauty were tact, generosity, and elevation
of soul, combined with an amiable grace which was unlimited,
however superficial it may have been. Knowing
how to maintain, in her salon, harmony and even cordial
relations between men of the most varied temperaments
and political ideas, it was possible for her to remain all her
life an intelligent and warm-hearted bond between the
élite minds and their diverse sentiments, which she tactfully
tempered. Though ever faithful to one cause, she
admitted men and women of all parties to her salon. She
was moderate and just in the midst of the most arduous
struggles, tolerant toward her adversaries, generous toward
the conquered, sympathetic to all, and remarkably successful
in conciliating all political, literary, and philosophical
opinions as well as the passions which she aroused in her
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page372" id="page372"></a>[pg 372]</span>
worshippers. To these qualities, as much as to her beauty,
were due the harmony of her life, the unity of her character—which
were never troubled by the turmoils of politics
or the emotions of love. She was not wife, mother, or
lover; "she never belonged to anyone in soul or sense."
Always mistress of her imagination as well as of her heart,
she permitted herself to be charmed but never carried
away—receiving from all, but giving nothing in return.
Her life was brilliant, but there was lurking in the background
the demon of sadness and lassitude and the terrible
disease of the eighteenth century,—ennui.</p>
<p>Two splendid portraits of Mme. Récamier are left to us:
one by her passionate but unsuccessful lover, Benjamin
Constant, picturing her as the personification of attractiveness;
the other by M. Lenormant, showing that she
desired constant admiration: "She lacked the affections
which bring veritable happiness and the true dignity of
woman. Her barren heart, desirous of tenderness and
devotion, sought recompense for this need of living, in the
homage of passionate admiration, the language of which
pleases the ears." Mme. Récamier, while still a child,
seemed to realize the power of her beauty, and even
before her marriage in 1793 she would often say, when
demanded in marriage: "Mon Dieu! how beautiful I must
be already!" A mere girl when married, being only sixteen
years of age, she felt no love for her husband, who
was her senior by twenty-five years. Soon after the
terrible times of "the Reign of Terror" she found herself
one of the most beautiful women in Paris, and her husband
one of the wealthiest of bankers. The three rival
women of the times were Mme. Récamier, Mme. Tallien,
and Josephine. The terrible days of the guillotine were
succeeded by an uninterrupted reign of pleasure, "when
a fever of amusement possessed everyone, and the desire
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page373" id="page373"></a>[pg 373]</span>
for distraction of all kinds seemed to have been pushed to
its limits." M. Turquan states that in the reign of dissolute
extravagance, immorality, and gorgeous splendor,
Mme. Récamier formed a striking contrast by her simplicity.
Her first triumph was at the church Saint-Roche,
the most fashionable of Paris, where she was selected to
raise a purse for charity. On one occasion the collection
amounted to twenty thousand francs, all due to the beauty
of the woman passing the plate. She was soon invited by
her friend Barras to all the balls and fêtes under the Directorate.</p>
<p>In 1798 M. Récamier bought the house formerly tenanted
by Necker, and later established himself in a château at
Clichy, where he received his friends, among whom was
Lucien Bonaparte, who attempted the ruin of the beautiful
hostess, but without success. Napoleon himself attempted
in vain to win her to his court as maid of honor and as an
ornament, her refusal incurring his anger, especially as
she was the height of fashion and courted by all the great
men of the age. Through her preference for the Royalists—persisting
in her line of conduct in spite of her friend
Fouché—she finally incurred the enmity of the emperor.
Even the Princess Caroline endeavored to obtain Mme.
Récamier's friendship for Napoleon, "but, although the
princess gave her <i>loge</i> twice to the favorite, and upon each
occasion the emperor went to the theatre expressly to
gaze upon her, she remained firm in her refusal, which
was one of the causes of the downfall of her banker husband,
whom Napoleon might have saved had his wife been
the emperor's friend." Napoleon certainly resented her
refusal, for when requested to save Récamier's bank he
replied: "I am not in love with Mme. Récamier!" Thus,
because his wife preferred the aristocracy to the favors of
Napoleon, the banker lost his fortune.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page374" id="page374"></a>[pg 374]</span>
<p>She, however, bore her misfortunes with great reserve,
immediately selling her jewels and her hôtel; after which
they both retired to small apartments, where they were
even more honored and had greater social prestige than
ever. She at once made her salon the centre of hostility
against the emperor, who, according to Turquan, did not
banish her, but her friend Mme. de Staël, with whom she
passed over into Switzerland. Here began her romance
with Prince August of Prussia, who became so enamored
of her that he asked her hand in marriage. Encouraged
by Mme. de Staël, she even went so far as to ask her husband
for a divorce, that she might wed the royal aspirant.
Her husband generously consented to this, but at the same
time set forth to her the peculiar position which she would
occupy, an argument that opened her eyes to her ingratitude,
and she refused the prince.</p>
<p>Upon the fall of Napoleon, Mme. Récamier returned to
Paris and, her husband's fortune being restored, gathered
about her all the great nobles of the ancient régime. But
fortune was unkind to her husband for the second time,
and she withdrew to the Abbaye-au-Bois, where she occupied
a small apartment on the third floor. Here her distinguished
friends followed her—such as Chateaubriand
and the Duc de Montmorency. Between her and the
famous author of <i>Le Génie du Christianisme</i> there sprang
up a friendship which lasted thirty years. During this
time it is said that he visited her at a certain hour each
day, the people in the neighborhood setting their clocks
by his appearance. When he was absent on missions, he
wrote her of every act of his life. Both, weary of the
dissipations of society and its flatteries, sought a pure and
lofty friendship, spiritual and affectionate, with no improper
intimacy. There was mutual admiration and mutual respect.
Even Chateaubriand's wife, who was an invalid
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page375" id="page375"></a>[pg 375]</span>
and with whom he spent every evening, encouraged his
friendship with Mme. Récamier. When, through the fall
of Charles X., Chateaubriand lost his power, the friendship
did not cease. M. Turquan insists that he did not
really care seriously for Mme. Récamier, that his visits
were the outgrowth of mere habit. But it is to be seen
that throughout his book Turquan has little sympathy
for his subject, whom he pictures as a beautiful, heartless,
intriguing woman with immense hands, flat, square fingers, and large feet.</p>
<p>The influence possessed by Mme. Récamier was most
remarkable; for with the new statesmen, Thiers, Guizot,
Mignet, De Tocqueville, Sainte-Beuve, as well as the nobles
and princes, she was on most cordial terms, and was received
in any salon which she chose to visit. Her unbounded
sympathy, tact, and common sense made her
friendship and counsel much in demand by great men.
One trait, however, her exclusiveness, caused much discomfort
in her life, such as bringing upon her the ill will of Napoleon.</p>
<p>In her later years her physical beauty gradually developed
into a moral beauty. She was never a passionate
woman, but rather passively affectionate; purely unselfish,
her one desire always was to make people love her and to
be happy. Her friendship with Chateaubriand in the later
days was possibly the most ideal and noble in the history
of French women. He never failed to make his appearance
in the afternoon at the <i>abbaye</i>, driven in a carriage to
her threshold, where he was placed in an armchair and
wheeled to a corner by her fireplace. On one of those
visits, he asked her to marry him—he being seventy-nine,
she seventy-one—and bear his illustrious name. "Why
should we marry at our age?" Mme. Récamier replied.
"There is no impropriety in my taking care of you. If
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page376" id="page376"></a>[pg 376]</span>
solitude is painful to you, I am ready to live in the same
house with you. The world will do justice to the purity
of our friendship. Years and blindness give me this right.
Let us change nothing in so perfect an affection." Her
charm never deserted her, and she continued to the very
last to receive the greatest men and women of the day.
Still the reigning beauty and the queen of French society,
she died at the age of seventy-two, of cholera.</p>
<p>There is a wide difference between Mme. Récamier and
Josephine, the two women of the Napoleonic era who exerted
so powerful an influence upon the social and political
fortunes of France. At the time of Napoleon's first success,
the former was only twenty-one, with Madonna-like
charms and attractiveness; the latter, thirty-five, but with
exquisite taste in dress and skill in beautifying. Possessed
of unstudied natural grace and elegance, and always attired
in perfect harmony with her beauty of face and form, she
could easily stand a comparison with the other beauties of
the day, all of whom studied her air and manner and
marked the aristocratic ease and poise of her real <i>noblesse</i>
of the old régime.</p>
<p>"Josephine had a faded and brown complexion, which
she remedied with rouge and powder; her small mouth
concealed her bad teeth; her elegant figure and graceful
movements, refined expression, gentle voice and dignity,
all dexterously expressed with an air of coquetry, made
her delightful." The happiest part of the life of Napoleon
and Josephine was during their stay in Italy, when he
was absolutely faithful to her. As soon as Napoleon left
for Egypt, Talleyrand secured the erasure of many noble
names from the list of the proscribed exiles and soon gathered
about him a large number of Royalists, who immediately
began to pay court to Josephine. Napoleon had
enjoined her to keep her salon according to the means he
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page377" id="page377"></a>[pg 377]</span>
provided and to entertain all influential people. To this
she was equal; and all men of elevated rank, the most
distinguished artists, men of letters, orators, and musicians,
found her salon an enjoyable retreat. No greater
galaxy of talent and genius ever assembled under the old
régime than was found there,—David, Lebrun, Lesueur,
Grétry, Cherubini, Méhul, J. Chénier, Hoffman, Ducis,
Désaugiers, Legouvé, and others.</p>
<p>But her life was not without its difficulties. She was
always annoyed by the Bonaparte family, who were jealous
of her influence over Bonaparte. Exceedingly extravagant,
in fact a spendthrift, she was always in need of
money. Her virtues, however, easily offset these defects.
Josephine never offended anyone, never argued politics;
she made friends in all classes, thus conciliating Republicans
and aristocrats; therefore, her greatest influence was
as a mediator between two classes of society, by which
she, more than any other woman, unconsciously contributed
to the forming of a new social France. Napoleon
was wise enough to recognize such diplomacy, and encouraged
her to intrigue like an experienced diplomat.
She was the most efficient aid and means to his future
plans, and M. Saint-Amand says that without her he would
possibly never have become emperor. When he returned
from Egypt and found her away,—she had gone to meet
him, but missed him,—his suspicions were aroused as to
her fidelity, as she had been accused of many misdeeds.
When the reconciliation finally took place, after a day of
sobbing and pleading, she put to work all her tact and
knowledge of Parisian society to help her husband to the <i>coup d'état</i>.</p>
<p>She was always of great service to Napoleon in his
relations with the men of whom he wished to make use;
fascinating them and drawing them over to him, she
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page378" id="page378"></a>[pg 378]</span>
charmed such persons as Barras, Gohier, Fouché, Moreau,
Talleyrand, Sièyes, and others. By her skill she kept
hidden Napoleon's plans until all was ripe for them. She
was in the secret of the 18th Brumaire; "nothing was
concealed from her. In every conference at which she
was present, her discretion, gentleness, grace, and the
ready ingenuity of her delicate and cool intelligence were
of great service." During the Directorate she allayed
jealousies and appeased the differences between Republicans
and Royalists. As wife of the First Consul, she conciliated
the <i>émigrés</i>. At that time she was probably the
most important figure in France. The <i>émigrés</i> would call
at her salon in the morning so as to avoid meeting her
husband, with whom they refused to associate. Her task
was not easy, but she knew so well how to say a kind
word to all, and her tact was so great that when she became
empress the duties and requirements of that office
were natural to her. She won the Republicans by her
friendship with Fouché, the representative of the revolutionary
element—the aristocracy, by her dignity and
refinement. Her whole appearance had a peculiar charm.</p>
<p>In 1803 the conditions began to be reversed. In 1796
Josephine had worried Napoleon on account of her inconstancy;
she was then young and beautiful, while he was
penniless and ailing. In 1803 he was thirty-four and she
forty—he in his prime, wealthy and popular, she faded
and powerless, no longer able to give cause for suspicion.
However, nothing could make Napoleon reject her, because
she was useful to him. "Her kindness was a weapon
against her enemies, a charm for her friends, and the
source of her power over her husband." "I gained battles,
Josephine gained me hearts," are the well-known
words of Napoleon. As empress she had every wish
gratified, but she realized that a woman of her age could
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page379" id="page379"></a>[pg 379]</span>
not continue indefinitely her fascination over a man as
capricious as Napoleon. In the brilliant court of Fontainebleau
she held the highest place, and no one could suspect
the anxieties that tormented her, so cool and happy did she appear.</p>
<p>Josephine did many things that later on gradually helped
reconcile Napoleon to a divorce: her pride, her aristocratic
tendencies, extravagance and lavishness; her objection to
the marriage of Hortense to General Duroc on the grounds
of humble birth; her religious tendencies; her difficulty in
keeping secrets, which led to highly tragic scenes between
her and Bonaparte; the encouragement she gave to the
jealousies and hatred of her brothers and sisters-in-law,
who maliciously slandered her at every opportunity; and finally, her barrenness.</p>
<p>Her career after her divorce was honorable, and to-day
Josephine is still held in the highest esteem in France and
in the world at large. Her greatness is not in having been
the wife of a great emperor, but in knowing how to adapt
herself to the conditions in France into which she was
suddenly thrust. As a conciliator and a mediator between
two almost hopelessly irreconcilable classes of society, she
deserves a prominent place among great French women.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page381" id="page381"></a>[pg 381]</span>
<h2>Chapter XIV</h2>
<h2>Women of the Nineteenth Century</h2>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page383" id="page383"></a>[pg 383]</span>
<p>Among the unusually large number of prominent French
women which the nineteenth century produced, possibly
not more than a half-dozen names will survive,—Mme.
de Staël, George Sand, Rosa Bonheur, Sarah Bernhardt,
Mme. Lebrun, and Rachel. This circumstance is, possibly,
largely due to the character of the century: its activity,
its varied accomplishments, its wide progress along so
many lines, its social development, its absolute freedom
and tolerance—all of which tended to open a field for
women more extensive than in any preceding century.</p>
<p>The salon, in its old-time glory, became a thing of the
past; and the passing of this institution lessened, to a large
extent, the possibility of great influence on the part of
women. In short, the mode of life became, in the nineteenth
century, unfavorable to the absolute power exercised
by woman in former times. She was now on a level
with man, enjoying more privileges and being looked upon
more as the equal and possible rival of man. It became
necessary for woman to make and establish her own position,
whereas, under the old régime, her power and position
were established by custom, which regarded her vocation
as entirely distinct from that of man. The result was a
host of prominent and active women, but few really great
ones. Undoubtedly by far the most important and influential
was Madame de Staël, but her influence and work
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page384" id="page384"></a>[pg 384]</span>
are so intimately associated with her life that any account
of her which aims at giving a true estimate of her significance
must necessarily involve much biography.</p>
<p>Her mother, the Mme. Necker of salon fame, endeavored
to bring up her daughter as the <i>chef d'œuvre</i> of natural
art,—pious, modest in her conversation, dignified in her
behavior, without pride or frivolity, but with wide knowledge.
In this ambition she partly succeeded. At the age
of eleven the young girl was present at receptions, where
she listened to discussions by such men as Grimm, Buffon,
Suard, and others. Her parents took her to the theatre,
and she would subsequently compose short stories on
what she had heard and seen. Rousseau became her
ideal, but she enjoyed all literature, showing an insatiable
desire for knowledge. From her early youth to her death,
her conversation was ever the result of her own impulse;
consequently, it was uncontrolled and lacked the seriousness
imparted by deep reflection.</p>
<p>Interested in all things except Nature, which seemed
mournful to her, while solitude horrified her, society was
her delight. At the age of twenty she wrote: "A woman
must have nothing to herself and must find all power in
that which she loves." Her masculine ideal was a man of
society, of success, a hero of the Academy, a superior
genius, animated more by the desire to please than to be
useful. During these early years she wrote a great deal,
her work being mostly in the form of sentimental utterances,
but very little has survived her.</p>
<p>When she reached marriageable age, many ambitions of
her parents were frustrated by her independent will. Pitt,
Mirabeau, Bonaparte, were considered, but destiny had in
store for her a Swedish ambassador, Staël-Holstein, a man
of good family, but with little money and plenty of debts,
who had been looking out for a comfortable dowry. In
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page385" id="page385"></a>[pg 385]</span>
1786, at the time when Marie Antoinette was at the height
of her popularity, this girl of twenty years was married to
a man seventeen years her senior, who had no affection
for her and whom she could not love.</p>
<p>At Paris she immediately opened a salon, which soon
eclipsed, both in beauty and wit, that of her mother; there
her eloquence, enthusiasm, and conversational gifts captivated
all, but her imprudent language, the recklessness
of her conduct, her scorn of all etiquette, her outspoken
preferences, frightened away women and stunned men.
Her sympathy for her friends, Talleyrand, Narbonne, De
Montmorency, together with the approaching Revolution,
drew her into politics. When her father was called by the
nation to the control of its finances, his daughter shared his glories.</p>
<p>Her salon was the centre of the élite and of all literary
and political discussions; but as the majority of its frequenters
were partisans of the English constitution and
expressed their views openly and freely, her enemies
became numerous. When Narbonne was made minister
of war, a great triumph for her and her party, the eloquence
of his reports was attributed to her, and when he
fell into disgrace she rescued him. However, the atmosphere
of Paris was too unfriendly, so she left in 1792 for
her home at Coppet, which became an asylum for all the
proscribed. When she visited England, she began a thorough
study of its mode of life, its customs, and its parliamentary
institutions. Upon her return to Coppet she
wrote <i>Réflexions sur le Procès de la Reine</i>, to excite the
commiseration of the judges. After the death of her
mother in 1794, she devoted her energies to the education of her two boys.</p>
<p>After the violence of her love for Benjamin Constant,
who drew her back to politics, was somewhat cooled, she
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page386" id="page386"></a>[pg 386]</span>
became an ardent Republican, writing her treatise <i>Réflexions
sur la Paix adressées a M. Pitt et aux Anglais</i>, which
facilitated her return in 1795 to Paris, where she found
her husband reinstalled as ambassador. Her hôtel in the
Rue de Bac was reopened, and she proceeded to form a
salon from the débris of society floating about in Paris. It
was an assembly of queer characters—elements of the old
and new régime, but not at all reconciled, converts of the
Jacobin party returning for the first time into society,
surrounded by the women of the old régime, using all
imaginable efforts and flattery to obtain the <i>rentrée</i> of a
brother, a son, or a lover; it was composed of the most
moderate Revolutionists, of former Constitutionalists, of
exiles of the Monarchy, whom she endeavored to bring
over to the Republican cause.</p>
<p>Through the influence of Mme. de Staël, the decree of
banishment was repealed by the convention, thus opening
Paris to Talleyrand. In 1795 appeared her <i>Réflexions sur
la Paix Intérieure</i>; the aim of that work being to organize
the French Republic on the plan of the United States; it
strongly opposed the restoration of the Monarchy. The
Comité du Salut Publique accused her of double play, of
favoring intrigues, and, seeing the plots of the Royalists,
she adopted a new plan in her salon; politics being too
dangerous, she decided to devote herself more to literature.
In her book <i>Les Passions</i> she endeavored to crush her
calumniators; she wrote: "Condemned to celebrity, without
being able to be known I find need of making myself known by my writings."</p>
<p>It was not safe for her to return to Paris until 1797, when
her friend Talleyrand was made minister of foreign affairs.
Her efforts to charm Napoleon led only to estrangement,
although he appointed her friend Benjamin Constant to
the tribunate; but when he publicly announced the advent
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page387" id="page387"></a>[pg 387]</span>
of the tyrant Napoleon, she was accused of inciting her
friends against the government, and was again banished
to Coppet, where she wrote the celebrated work <i>De la
Littérature Considérée sous ses Rapports avec les Institutions
Sociales</i>, a singular mixture of satirical allusions to Napoleon's
government and cabals against his power; in that
work she announced, also, her belief in the regeneration
of French literature by the influence of foreign literature,
and endeavored to show the relations which exist between
political institutions and literature. Thus, she was the
first to bring the message of a general cosmopolitan relationship
of literatures and literary ideas.</p>
<p>In 1802 she returned to Paris and began to show, on
every possible occasion, a morbid hatred for Napoleon.
When her father published his work <i>Dernières Vues de
Politique et de Finance</i>, expressing a desire to write against
the tyranny of one, after having fought so long that of the
multitude, the emperor immediately accused Mme. de Staël
of instilling these ideas into her father. Her salon and
forty of her friends were put into the interdict.</p>
<p>After the death of her husband in 1802, she was free to
marry Benjamin Constant; and after refusing him, she
wrote her novel <i>Delphine</i> to give vent to her feelings.
The two famous lines found in almost every work on
Mme. de Staël may be quoted here, as they well express
her ideas on marriage: "A man must know how to brave
an opinion, and a woman must submit to it." This qualification
Benjamin Constant lacked, and at that time she
was unable to give the submission.</p>
<p>Her travels in Germany, Russia, and Italy were one
great succession of triumphs; by her brilliancy, her wonderful
gift of conversation, and her quickness of comprehension,
she everywhere baffled and astounded those with
whom she conversed. Schiller declared that when she
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page388" id="page388"></a>[pg 388]</span>
left he felt as though he were just convalescing after a long
spell of illness. One day she abruptly asked the staid old
philosopher Fichte: "M. Fichte, can you give me, in a
short time, an <i>aperçu</i> of your system of philosophy, and
tell me what you mean by your ego? I find it very obscure."
He began by translating his thoughts into French,
very deliberately. After talking for some ten minutes, in
the midst of a deep argument she interrupted him, crying
out: "Enough, M. Fichte, quite enough! I understand you
perfectly; I have seen your system in illustration—it is an
adventure of Baron Münchhausen." The philosopher assumed
a tragic attitude, and a spell of silence fell upon the audience.</p>
<p>The result of her visit to Italy was her novel <i>Corinne</i>,
in which the problems of the destiny of women of genius—the
relative joys of love and glory—are discussed. This
work remained for a whole generation the standard of
love and ideals, and at the same time revealed Italy to the
French, After a second visit to Germany, she began to
labor seriously on her work on that country, in 1810 going
<i>incognito</i> to Paris to have it printed. Ten thousand copies,
ready for sale, were destroyed before reaching the public.
This work opened the German world to the French; it
applied, to a great nation, the doctrine of progress, defending
the independence and originality of nations, while
endeavoring to show that the future lay in the reciprocal
respect of the rights of people, declaring that nations are
not at all the arbitrary work of men or the fatal work of
circumstances, and that the submission of one people to
another is contrary to nature. She wished to make "poor
and noble Germany" conscious of its intellectual riches,
and to prove that Europe could obtain peace only through
the liberation of that country. The censors accused
her of lack of patriotism in provoking the Germans to
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page389" id="page389"></a>[pg 389]</span>
independence, and of questionable taste in praising their
literature; consequently, the book was denounced, all the
copies obtainable were destroyed, and a vigorous search
for the manuscript was undertaken. After this episode,
her friends were not permitted to visit her at Coppet.</p>
<p>In 1811 she was secretly married to a young Italian officer,
Albert de Rocca, a handsome man of twenty-three—she
was then forty-five. In him she realized the conditions
which she described in <i>Delphine</i>, namely, a man who
braved an opinion and prejudices; and she was ready to
submit herself to him, Coppet became the centre for
endless pleasures and fêtes; Mme. de Staël began to write
comedies and to forget Paris entirely. This blissful happiness
was suddenly checked by the emperor, who determined
to show his displeasure and also to give evidence of
his power by banishing Schlegel and exiling Mme. Récamier
and De Montmorency, who continued to visit Mme.
de Staël. Fear for the safety of her husband and children
influenced her to leave for Russia, where the czar ordered
all Russians to honor her as the enemy of Napoleon. Indeed,
she was everywhere received like a visiting queen.</p>
<p>In the autumn of 1816 she returned to Paris, and spent
a number of months very happily in her old style—in the
society of the salon. Though devoured by insomnia,
enervated by the use of opium, and besieged by fear of
death, she accepted all invitations, and kept open house
herself, receiving in the morning, at dinner, and in the
evening; and though at night she paced the floor for hours
or tossed about on her bed until morning, she was yet
fresh for all the pleasures of the next day. But this mode
of existence was undermining her health.</p>
<p>She endured this constant strain until one evening in
February, 1817, when, at a ball at the Duke of Decazes's,
in the midst of her pleasure, she was stricken with
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page390" id="page390"></a>[pg 390]</span>
paralysis. At the Rue des Mathurins, she had all her friends
come and dine with her. Chateaubriand, who was one of
the party, entered her room upon one occasion and found
her suffering intensely, but able to raise herself and say:
"Bonjour, my dear Francis! I am suffering, but that does
not hinder me from loving you." She lingered until July,
when there ended a life which not only influenced but
even modified politics and the institutions of nations,
which exercised, by writings, an incalculable influence upon
French literature, opening paths which previously had not been trod.</p>
<p>The most important of her works is <i>De l'Allemagne</i>, in
writing which her only desire was to make Germany
known to the French, to explain it by comparison with
France and to make her people admire it, and to open new
paths to poetry. According to her, Germany possessed
no classic prose, because the Germans attributed less importance
to style than did the French. German poetry,
however, had a distinct charm, being all sentiment and
poetry of the soul, touching and penetrating; whereas
French poetry was all <i>esprit</i>, eloquence, reason, raillery.</p>
<p>In her treatise on the drama, she was the first in French
literature to use the term "romantic" and to define it;
but she had not invented the word, Wieland having used
it to designate the country in which the ancient Roman
literature flourished. Her definition was: "The classic
word is sometimes taken as a synonym of perfection. I
use it in another acceptance by considering classic poetry
that of the ancients and romantic poetry that which
holds in some way to the chivalresque traditions. The
literature of the ancients is a transplanted literature with
us; but romantic or chivalresque literature is indigenous.
An imitation of works coming from a political, social, and
religious midst different from ours means a literature
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page391" id="page391"></a>[pg 391]</span>
which is no longer in relation with us, which has never
been popular, and which will become less so every day.
On the contrary, the romantic literature is the only one
which is susceptible of being perfected, because it bears
its roots from our soil and is, consequently, the only one
which can be revived and increased. It expresses our
religion and recalls our history." This opinion alone
was enough to create a revolt among her contemporaries.
Almost all other interpretations of <i>Faust</i> were based on her conception.</p>
<p>At the time of its publication, her book was considered
to have been written in a political spirit, but her motive
was far from that; it was the action of a generous heart, a
book as true and loyal to the French as was ever a book
written by a Frenchman. In her work <i>Considérations sur
la Révolution Française</i> she expressed the most advanced
ideas on politics and government. The Revolution freed
France and made it prosper; "every absolute monarch
enslaves his country, and freedom reigns not in politics
nor in the arts and sciences. Local and provincial liberties
have formed nations, but royalty has deformed the
nation by turning it to profit." Mme. de Staël found
nothing to admire in Louis XIV., and to Richelieu she
attributed the destruction of the originality of the French
character, of its loyalty, candor, and independence. In
that work she advocated education, which she considered
a duty of the government to the people. "Schools must
be established for the education of the poor, universities
for the study of all languages, literatures, and sciences;"
these ideas took root after her death.</p>
<p>Mme. de Staël was a finished writer; because of its
force, openness, and seriousness, her style might be
termed a masculine one; she wrote to persuade and, as a
rule, succeeded. Her grave defect seemed to be in her
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page392" id="page392"></a>[pg 392]</span>
inspirations, which were always superior to her ideas, and
in her sentiments, which she invariably turned to passions.</p>
<p>Few French writers have exercised such a great influence
in so many directions, and it became specially marked
after her death; while living, the gossip against her salon
prevented her opinions from being accepted or taking root.
Her political influence was great at her time and lasted
some twenty years. Directly influenced by her were
Narbonne, De Montmorency, Benjamin Constant, and the
Duc Victor de Broglie, her son-in-law. By her and her
father, the Globe, the orators of the Academy and the
tribune, and the politicians of the day, were inspired.
The greatest was Guizot, who interpreted and preached in
the spirit of Mme. de Staël. In history her influence was
equally felt, especially in Guizot's <i>Essays on the History of
France</i>, and in his <i>History of Civilization</i>, wherein civilization
was considered as the constant progress in justice, in
society, and in the state. To her Guizot owed his idea of
<i>Amour dans le Mariage</i>. <i>The Historical Essays on England</i>,
by Rémusat, an ardent admirer of hers, was largely influenced
by her <i>Considérations</i>, while Tocqueville's <i>Ancien
Régime</i> contains many of her ideas.</p>
<p>Literature owes even more to her works, which encouraged
the study of foreign literatures; almost all translations
were due to her works. Michelet, Quinet, Nodier, Victor
Hugo, so much influenced by German literature, owe their
knowledge of it mainly to her. Too much credit may be
given her when it is stated that all Mignons, Marguerites,
Mephistopheles, etc., proceeded indirectly from her work,
as well as nearly all descriptions of travels. Lamartine
undoubtedly used her <i>De l'Allemagne</i> and her <i>Des Passions</i>
freely. The heroine of <i>Jocelyn</i> is called but a daughter of
<i>Delphine</i>, and the same author's terrible invective against
Napoleon was inspired by her.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page393" id="page393"></a>[pg 393]</span>
<p>Mme. de Staël had an indestructible faith in human
reason, liberty, and justice; she believed in human perfection
and in the hope of progress. "From Rousseau, she
received that passionate tenderness, that confidence in the
inherent goodness of man. Believing in an intimate communion
of man with God, her religion was spirit and sentiment
which had no need of pomp or symbols, of an
intermediary between God and man." She was not so
much a great writer as she was a great thinker, or rather
a discoverer of new thoughts. By instituting a new criticism
and by opening new literatures to the French, she
succeeded in emancipating art from fixed rules and in
facilitating the sudden growth of romanticism in France.</p>
<p>In her life, her great desire was to spread happiness and
to obtain it, to love and to be loved in return. In politics
it was always the sentiment of justice which appealed to
her, in literature it was the ideal. Sincerity was manifested
in everything she said and did. Pity for the misery
of her fellow beings, the sentiment of the dignity of man and
his right to independence, of his future grandeur founded
on his moral elevation, the cult of justice, and the love of
liberty—such were the prevailing thoughts of her life and works.</p>
<p>Mme. de Staël's chief influence will always remain in
the domain of literature; she was the first French writer
to introduce and exercise a European or cosmopolitan influence
by uniting the literatures of the north and the south
and clearly defining the distinction between them. By
the expression of her idea that French literature had decayed
on account of the exclusive social spirit, and that
its only means of regeneration lay in the study and absorption
of new models, she cut French taste loose from
traditions and freed literature from superannuated conventionalities.
Also, by her idea that a common civilization
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page394" id="page394"></a>[pg 394]</span>
must be fostered, a union of the eastern and western
ideals, and that literature must be the common expression
thereof, whose object must be the amelioration of humanity,
morally and religiously, she gave to the world at large
ideas which are only now being fully appreciated and
nearing realization. In her novels she vigorously protested
against the lot of woman in modern society, against
her obligation to submit everything to opinion, against the
innumerable obstacles in the way of her development—thus
heralding George Sand and the general movement
toward woman's emancipation. France has never had a
more forceful, energetic, influential, cosmopolitan, and at
the same time moral, writer than Mme. de Staël.</p>
<p>The events in the life of George Sand had comparatively
little influence upon her works, which were mainly the expression
of her nature. As a young girl, she was strongly
influenced by her mother, an amiable but rather frivolous
woman, and by her grandmother, a serious, cold, ceremonious
old lady. Calm and well balanced, and possessing
an ardent imagination, she followed her own inclinations
when, as a girl of sixteen, she was married to a man for
whom she had no love. After living an indifferent sort of
life with her husband for ten years, they separated; and
she, with her children, went to Paris to find work.</p>
<p>After a number of unsuccessful efforts of a literary nature,
she wrote <i>Indiana</i>, which immediately made her
success. Her articles were sought by the journals, and
from about 1830 her life was that of the average artist
and writer of the time. Her relations with Chopin and
Alfred de Musset are too well known to require repetition.
After 1850 she retired to her home, the Château
de Nohant, where she enjoyed the companionship of her
son, her daughter-in-law, and her grandchildren; she died there in 1876.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page395" id="page395"></a>[pg 395]</span>
<p>To appreciate her works, it is more important to study
her nature than her career. This has been admirably
done by the Comte d'Haussonville. George Sand is said
to have possessed a dual nature, which seemed to contradict
itself, but which explains her works—a dreamy and
meditative, and a lively, frolicsome nature; the first might
throw light upon her religious crisis, the second, upon her
social side. The combination of these two phases caused
the numerous conflicts of opinions and doctrines, extending
her knowledge and inciting her curiosity; the not
infrequent result was an intellectual and moral bewilderment
and the deepest melancholy, from which she with
great difficulty freed herself. Because of these peculiarities
she was constantly agitated, her strongly reflective
nature keeping her awake to all important questions of the day.</p>
<p>Her intellectual development may be traced in her works,
which, from 1830 to 1840, were personal, lyrical, spontaneous—a
direct flow from inspiration, issuing from a common
source of emotions and personal sorrows, being the
expressions of her habitual reflections, of her moral agitations,
of her real and imaginary sufferings. These first
works were a protest against the tyranny of marriage,
and expressed her conception of a woman in love—a love
profound and naïve, exalted and sincere, passionate and
chaste: such is pictured in <i>Indiana</i>. In <i>Valentine</i> she
portrays the impious and unfortunate marriage that the
sacrilegious conventions of the world have imposed, and
the results issuing therefrom. In all of these early works
are seen an inventiveness, a lively <i>allure</i>, an exquisite
style, a freshness and brilliancy, <i>finesse</i> and grace; but
they show an undisciplined talent, giving vent to feelings
that her unbounded enthusiasm would not allow to be
checked—there is emotion, but no system.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page396" id="page396"></a>[pg 396]</span>
<p>In her second period, from about 1840 to 1848, her reflection
and emotion combined produced a system and
theories. The higher problems took stronger hold on her
as she matured; philosophy and religious science in their
deeper phases excited her emotive faculties, which threw
out a mere echo of what she had heard and studied. Her
inspiration thus came from without, throwing out those
endless declamatory outbursts which we meet in <i>Consuelo</i>
and in <i>Comtesse de Rudolstadt</i>. These theory-novels
were soon followed by novels dealing with social problems,
now and then relieved by delightful idyllics such
as <i>La Mare au Diable</i> and <i>François le Champi</i>. This
third tendency M. d'Haussonville considers the least successful.</p>
<p>After 1850 there appeared from her pen a series of historical
novels, especially fine in the portrayal of characters,
variety of situations, movement, and intrigues; these are
free from all social theories; in these, reverting to her first
tendencies, she is at her best in elegance and clearness, in
analysis of characters. Thus does the work of George
Sand change from a personal lyricism, in which the emotions,
held in check during a solitary and dreamy youth,
burst forth in brilliant and passionate fiction, to a theoretical,
systematic novel, finally reverting to the first efforts,
but tempered by experience and age.</p>
<p>M. d'Haussonville says that in the strict sense of the
word George Sand had no doctrines, but possessed a powerful
imagination that manifested itself at various periods
of her life. Whatever the principles might have been at
first, they were made concrete under a sentiment with
her, for her heart was her first inspiration, her teacher in
all things. The ideas are thus analyzed through her sentiments
under a threefold inspiration,—love, passion for
humanity, sentiment for Nature.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page397" id="page397"></a>[pg 397]</span>
<p>According to other novels, love is the unique affair of
life; without love we do not really live, before love enters
life we do not live, and after we cease to love there is
no object in life. This love comes directly from God, of
whom George Sand had ideas peculiar to herself. The
majority of her characters have a sort of mystic, exalted
love, looking upon it as a sacred right, making of themselves
great priests rather than genuine human lovers.
This love, issuing from God, is sacred; therefore, the
yielding to it is a pious act; he who resists commits sacrilege,
while he who blames others for it is impious; for
love legitimizes itself by itself. Such a theory naturally
led her to a sensual ideality, and her heroes rose to the
highest phase of fatalism and voluptuousness; this impelled
her to protest against the social laws. Jacques says:</p>
<p>"I do not doubt at all that marriage will be abolished if
humankind makes any progress toward justice and reason;
a bond more human and none the less sacred will replace
this one and will take care of the children which may
issue from a man and woman, without ever interfering
with the liberty of either. But men are too coarse and
women are too cowardly to ask for a law more noble than
the iron law which binds them—beings without conscience—and
virtue must be burdened with heavy chains."</p>
<p>Yet, in none of her books did George Sand ever submit
any theories as to how such children would be cared for;
apparently, such a difficulty never troubled her, since
almost all of the children of her books die of some disease,
while to one—Jacques—she gives the advice to take his
own life, so that his wife may be free to love elsewhere.</p>
<p>Her social theories are marked by an exaltation of sentiment,
a weakness, an incoherency in conception, caused
by her ardent love for theories and ideas, but which, in
her passionate sentiment and her loyal enthusiasm, she
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page398" id="page398"></a>[pg 398]</span>
always confounds and confuses. From early youth she
manifested an immense goodness, a profound tenderness,
and a deep compassion for human misery. She rarely
became angry, even though she suffered cruelly. Her
own law of life and her message to the world was—be
good. The only strong element within her, she said, was
the need of loving, which manifested itself under the form
of tenderness and emotion, devotion and religious ecstasy;
and when this faith was shaken, doubt and social disturbances overwhelmed her.</p>
<p>Throughout life her consolation was Nature. "It was
half of her genius and the surest of her inspirations." No
other French novelist has been able to "express in words
the lights and shades, harmonies and contrasts, the magic
of sounds, the symphonies of color, the depth and distances
of the woods, the infinite movement of the sea and
the sky—the interior soul of Nature, that vibrates in everything
and everybody." With Lamartine and Michelet, she
has best reflected and expressed the dreams and hopes and
loves of the first half of the nineteenth century.</p>
<p>George Sand saw Nature, lived in her, sympathized with
her, and loved her as did few other French writers; therefore,
she showed more memory than pure imagination in
her work, for she always found Nature more beautiful
in actuality than she could picture her mentally, while
other great writers, like Lamartine, saw her less beautiful
in reality than in their imagination; hence, they were disappointed
in Nature, while for George Sand she was the
truest friend. The world will always be interested in her
descriptions of Nature, because with Nature she always
associated something of human life—a thought or a sentiment;
her landscapes belonged to her characters—there is
always a soul living in them, for, to George Sand, man
and Nature were inseparable.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page399" id="page399"></a>[pg 399]</span>
<p>Thus, every novel of this authoress consists of a situation
and a landscape, the poetic union of which nothing
can mar. "Man associated with Nature and Nature with
man is a great law of art; no painter has practised it
with instinct more delicate or sure." Because Nature, in
her early youth, was her inspiration, guide, even her God,
she returned to her later in life. M. Jules Lemaître wrote
that her works will remain eternally beautiful, because
they teach us how to love Nature as divine and good, and
to find in that love peace and solace. There are many
parts of her work which show as detailed, accurate, and
realistic descriptions as those by Balzac. She constantly
employed two elements—the fanciful and the realistic.</p>
<p>George Sand never studied or knew how to compose a
work, how to preserve the unity of the subject or the
unity in tone in characters; hence, there was nothing
calculated or premeditated—everything was spontaneous.
No preparation of plan did she ever think of—a mode of
procedure which naturally resulted in a negligent style
and caused the composition to drag. Her inspiration
seemed to go so far, then she resorted to her imagination,
to the chimerical, forcing events and characters. "There
are many defects in the style—such as the sentimental
part, the romanesque in the violent expression of sentiments
or invention of situations, the exaggerated improbabilities
of events, the excessive declamation; but how
many compensating qualities are there to offset these defects!"</p>
<p>Her method of writing was very simple. It was the
love of writing that impelled her, almost without premeditation,
to put into words her dreams, meditations, and
chimeras under concrete and living forms. Yet, by the
largeness of her sympathy and the ardor of her passions,
by the abundant inventions of stories, and by the
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page400" id="page400"></a>[pg 400]</span>
harmonious word-flow, she deserves to be ranked among
the greatest writers of France. Her career, taken as a
whole, is one of prodigious fecundity—a literary life that
has "enchanted by its fictions or troubled by its dreams"
four or five generations. Never diminishing in quality or
inspiration, there are surprises in every new work.</p>
<p>No doubt George Sand has, for a generation or more,
been somewhat forgotten, but what great writer has not
shared the same fate? When the materialistic age has
passed away, many famous writers of the past will be
resurrected, and with them George Sand; for her novels,
although written to please and entertain, discuss questions
of religion, philosophy, morality, problems of the heart,
conscience, and education,—and this is done in such a
dramatic way that one feels all to be true. More than
that, her characters are all capable of carrying out, to the
end, a common moral and general theme with eloquence seldom found in novels.</p>
<p>An interesting comparison might be made between Mme.
de Staël and George Sand, the two greatest women writers
of France. Both wrote from their experience of life, and
fought passionately against the prejudices and restrictions
of social conventions; both were ideal natures and were
severely tried in the school of life, profiting by their experiences;
both possessed highly sensitive natures, and
suffered much; both were keenly enthusiastic and sympathetic,
with pardonable weaknesses; both lived through
tragic wars; both evinced a dislike for the commonplace
and strove for greater freedom, but for different publics,
after unhappy marriages, both rose up as accusers against
the prevalent system of marrying young girls. But Mme.
de Staël was a virtuoso in conversation, a salon queen,
and her happiness was to be found in society alone; while
George Sand found her happiness in communion with
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page401" id="page401"></a>[pg 401]</span>
Nature. This explains the two natures, their sufferings,
their joys, their writings.</p>
<p>The greatest punishment ever inflicted upon Mme. de
Staël was her exile, for it deprived her of her social life, a
fact of which the emperor was well aware. Her entire
literary effort was directed to describing her social life
and the relation of society to life. "She belongs to the
moralists and to the writers who wrote of society and
man—social psychologists." Not poetic or artistic by nature,
but with an exceptional power of observation, she
shows on every side the influence of a pedagogical, literary,
and social training; she was the product of an artificial culture.</p>
<p>George Sand, on the contrary, was a product of Nature,
reared in free intercourse and unrestrained relation with
her genius and Nature. A powerful passion and a mighty
fantasy made of her a poetess and an artist. These two
qualities were manifested in her intense and deep feeling
for the beauty of Nature, in her power of invention, in a
harmonious equilibrium between idealism and realism.
Her fantasy overbalanced her reason, impeding its development
and thus relegating it to a secondary rôle.
"She is possibly the only French writer who possessed
no <i>esprit</i> (in the sense that it is used in French
society)—that playful, epigrammatic, querulous wit of conversation."</p>
<p>She never enjoyed communion with others for any length
of time, or the companionship of anyone for a long period;
the companions of which she never tired were the fields
and woods, birds and dogs; therefore, she enjoyed those
people most who were nearer her ideals, the peasants and
workmen, and these she best describes. Thus, her whole
creation is one of instinct rather than of reason, as it
was with Mme. de Staël. George Sand was a genius, a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page402" id="page402"></a>[pg 402]</span>
master-product of Nature, while Mme. de Staël was a talent,
a consummate work of the art of modern culture; she reflects,
while George Sand creates from impulse; the latter
was a true poetess, communing with Nature, while the
banker's daughter was an observing thinker, communicating
with society—but both were great writers.</p>
<p>Intimately associated with George Sand is Rosa Bonheur,
in all of whose canvases we find the same aim, the
same spirit, the same message, that are found in so many
of the novels of George Sand. They were two women
who have contributed, through different branches, masterworks
that will be enjoyed and appreciated at all times.
"It would be difficult not to speak of <i>La Mare au Diable</i>
and the <i>Meunier d'Angibault</i> when recalling the fields
where Rosa Bonheur speeds the plow or places the oxen
lowering their patient heads under the yoke."</p>
<p>In the evening, at home, while other members of the
family were at work, one member read aloud to the rest;
and George Sand was a favorite author with the Bonheur
group of artists. It was while reading <i>La Mare au Diable</i>
that Rosa conceived the idea of the work which by some
critics is pronounced her masterpiece, <i>Plowing in Nivernais</i>.
The artist's deep sympathy was aroused by her love of
Nature, which no contemporary novelist expressed or appreciated
as did George Sand. In all her works, and
throughout the long life of the artist, there is absolutely
nothing unhealthy or immoral to be found. The novelist
had theories which were inspired by her passion, and these
became unhealthy at times; she belongs first of all to
France, while Rosa Bonheur belongs first of all to the
world, her message reaching the young and old of every
clime and every people. The novelist is to be associated
with the artist by virtue of her exquisite, simple, and
wholesome peasant stories.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page403" id="page403"></a>[pg 403]</span>
<p>The entire Bonheur family were artists, and all were
moral and genuinely sympathetic. As a young girl, Rosa
manifested an intense love for Nature, sunshine, and
the woods; always independent in manners, she used to
caricature her teachers; and while walking out into the
country, she would draw, with charcoal or in sand, any
objects that met her eye. Her father was not long in
detecting her talent. She was wedded to her art from the
very beginning, showing no taste for or interest in any
other subject. As soon as her father gave permission to
follow art as a profession, she devoted all her energy
to advancing herself in what she felt to be her life's work.
For four years the young girl could be seen every day at
the Louvre, copying the great masters and receiving principally
from them her ideas of coloring and harmony, while
from her father she learned her technique. After she had
mastered these two principles, she decided to specialize in pastoral nature.</p>
<p>From that time her whole life was given up to the study
of Nature and animals. Not able to study those near by,
she procured a fine Beauvais sheep, which served as her
model for two years. From the very first her work showed
accuracy, purity, and an intuitive perception of Nature,
and these qualities soon placed her among the foremost
artists of the time. Her struggle for reputation and glory
was not a long and arduous one, for after 1845 her fame
was established—she was then but twenty-three years
old; and after 1849, having exhibited some thirty pictures,
her reputation had become European.</p>
<p>In order to be able to study her models with greater
ease and freedom from the annoyance and coarse incivilities
of the workmen at the slaughter houses, farmyards,
and markets that she was in the habit of visiting, she adopted the garb of man.</p>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page404" id="page404"></a>[pg 404]</span>
<p>Her honors in life were many, though always unsought.
The Empress Eugénie, while regent during the absence
of Napoleon III., went in person to her château and put
around her neck the ribbon of the decoration of the Grand
Cross of the Legion of Honor, then for the first time bestowed
upon woman for merit other than bravery and
charity. The Emperor Maximilian of Mexico conferred
upon her the decoration of San Carlos; the King of Belgium
created her a chevalier of his order, the first honor
won by a woman; the King of Spain made her a Commander
of the Royal Order of Isabella the Catholic; and
President Carnot created her an Officer of the Legion of Honor.</p>
<p>With qualities such as she possessed, Rosa Bonheur
could not fail to attain immortality. Her success was due
in no small degree to the scientific instruction which she
received when a mere child; having been taught, from the
very first, how to paint directly from a model, she supplemented
this training by a period of four years of copying
great masters. In the latter period she studied Paul
Potter's work rather slavishly, but was individual enough
to combine only the best in him with the best in herself;
this gave her an originality such as possibly no other
animal painter ever possessed—-not even Landseer, who is
said to be "stronger in telling the story than in the manner of telling it."</p>
<p>Rosa Bonheur was too independent and original to follow
any particular school or master, for her only inspiration
and guide were her models, always living near by and
upon intimate terms with her. Thus, in all her paintings,
we instinctively feel that she painted from conviction,
from her own observation, nothing being added for mere
artistic effect. To some extent her pictures impress one
as a perfect French poem in which there is no superfluous
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page405" id="page405"></a>[pg 405]</span>
word, in which no word could be changed without destroying
the effect of the whole; thus, in her paintings
there is not a superfluous brush stroke; everything is
necessary to the telling of the story; but she excels the
perfect poem, for, in French literature, it seldom has a
message distinct from its technique, while her pictures
breathe the very essence of sympathy, love, and life.
We feel that she thoroughly knew her subjects as a connoisseur;
but her animals do not impress one as the production
of an artist who knew them as do horse traders
and cattle dealers, who know their stock from the purely
physical standpoint; the animals of this artist are from the
brush of one who was familiar with their habits, who loved
them, had lived with and studied them—who knew and
appreciated their higher qualities. Rosa Bonheur most harmoniously
united two essential elements in art—a scientific
as well as sympathetic conception of her subject. Possibly
this is the reason that her pictures appeal to animal
lovers throughout the world.</p>
<p>As was stated, she was independent, hence kept aloof
from the corruptions of contemporary French art and its
technique lovers, always pursuing an even tenor in her
art and never permitting one of her pictures to leave
her studio in a crude or unfinished state. In all her long
career she kept her original sketches, never parting with
one, in spite of the most tempting offers; and this explains
the fact that the work of her later years exhibits the freshness
and other qualities of that of her youth. Thus, her
art has gained by her experience, even though her best
work was done between about 1848 and 1860, and is especially
marked by its excellence in composition, the anatomy,
the breadth of touch, the harmony of coloring, and
the action, although it is said to lack the spontaneity, the
originality, and the highly imaginative quality which are
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page406" id="page406"></a>[pg 406]</span>
at their best in <i>The Horse Fair</i>; the same qualities seem to
have been possessed by many of her contemporaries, such as Troyon.</p>
<p>Notwithstanding these apparent defects, Rosa Bonheur
stands for something higher in art than do most of her contemporaries.
She was not influenced by the skilled and
often corrupt technicians; she perfected her technique by
study of the old masters and learned her art from Nature;
wisely keeping free from the ornamental, gorgeous, and
highly imaginative and exaggerated historical Romantic
school, in French art she stands out almost alone with
Millet. Whatever may be said of the more virile and
masculine art of other great animal painters, Rosa Bonheur,
by her truthfulness, her science, her close association
and intimate communion with her animal world, by
the glad and healthy vigor which her paintings breathe,
has taught the world the great lesson that there are intelligence,
will, love, and even soul, in animals.</p>
<p>Her art and life inspired respect and admiration; we
have nothing to regret, nothing to conceal; we desire to
love her for her animals, and we must esteem her for her
grand devotion to her art and family, for her purity and
charity, for her kindness to and love for those in the lower
walks of life, for her goodness and honesty. An illustration
of the last quality may be taken from her dealings
with art collectors. After having offered her <i>Horse Fair</i>,
which she desired should remain in France, to her own
town for twelve thousand francs, she sold it for forty
thousand francs to Mr. Gambert, but with the condition
which she thus expressed: "I am grateful for your giving
me such a noble price, but I do not like to feel that I have
taken advantage of your liberality. Let us see how we
can combine matters. You will not be able to have an
engraving made from so large a canvas; suppose I paint you
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page407" id="page407"></a>[pg 407]</span>
a small one of the same subject, of which I will make you a
present." Naturally, the gift was accepted, and the smaller
canvas now hangs in the National Gallery of London.</p>
<p>In all her dealings she showed this kindness and uprightness,
sympathy and honesty. Although numberless orders
were constantly coming to her, she never let them hurry
her in her work. She was, possibly, the highest and
noblest type—certainly among great French women—of
that strong and solid virtue which constitutes the backbone
and the very essence of French national strength.
The reputation of Rosa Bonheur has never been blemished
by the least touch of petty jealousy, hatred, envy, vanity,
or pride—and, among all great French women, she is one
of the few of whom this may be said. She won for herself
and her noble art the genuine and lasting sympathy of the world at large.</p>
<p>The only woman artist in France deserving a place
beside Rosa Bonheur belongs properly under the reign of
Louis XVI., although she lived almost to the middle of the
nineteenth century. At the age of twenty, Mme. Lebrun
was already famous as the leading portrait painter; this
was during the most popular period of Marie Antoinette—1775
to 1785. In 1775, but a young girl, admitted to all
the sessions of the Academy as recognition of her portraits
of La Bruyère and Cardinal Fleury, she made her life
unhappy and gave her art a serious blow by consenting to
marry the then great art critic and collector of art, Lebrun.
His passion for gambling and women ruined her fortune
and almost ended her career as an artist. Her own conduct
was not irreproachable.</p>
<p>Mme. Lebrun will be remembered principally as the
great painter of Marie Antoinette, who posed for her more
than twenty times. The most prominent people of Europe
eagerly sought her work, while socially she was welcomed
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page408" id="page408"></a>[pg 408]</span>
everywhere. Her famous suppers and entertainments in
her modestly furnished hôtel, at which Garat sang, Grétry
played the piano, and Viotti and Prince Henry of Prussia
assisted, were the events of the day. Her reputation as a
painter of the great ladies and gentlemen of nobility, and
her entertainments, naturally associated her with the nobility;
hence, she shared their unpopularity at the outbreak
of the Revolution and left France.</p>
<p>It is doubtful whether any artist—certainly no French
artist—ever received more attention and honors, or was
made a member of so many art academies, than Mme.
Lebrun. It would be difficult to make any comparison
between her and Rosa Bonheur, their respective spheres
of art being so different. Only the future will speak as to
the relative positions of each in French art.</p>
<p>In the domain of the dramatic art of the nineteenth century,
two women have made their names well known
throughout Europe and America,—Rachel, and Sarah Bernhardt,
both tragédiennes and both daughters of Israel.
While Rachel was, without question, the greatest tragédienne
that France ever produced, excelling Bernhardt in
deep tragic force, she yet lacked many qualities which our
contemporary possesses in a high degree. She had constantly
to contend with a cruel fate and a wicked, grasping
nature, which brought her to an early grave. The wretched
slave of her greedy and rapacious father and managers,
who cared for her only in so far as she enriched them by
her genius and popularity, hers was a miserable existence,
which detracted from her acting, checked her development,
and finally undermined her health.</p>
<p>After her critical period of apprenticeship was successfully
passed and she was free to govern herself, she rose
to be queen of the French stage—a position which she
held for eighteen years, during which she was worshipped
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page409" id="page409"></a>[pg 409]</span>
and petted by the whole world. As a social leader, she was
received and made much of by the great ladies of the Faubourg
Saint-Germain. Her taste in dress was exquisite in
its simplicity, being in perfect harmony with the reserved,
retiring, and amiable actress herself.</p>
<p>Possibly no actress, singer, or other public woman ever
received such homage and general recognition. With all
her great qualities as an actress, vigor, grandeur, wild,
savage energy, superb articulation, irreproachable diction,
and a marvellous sense of situations, she lacked the one
quality which we miss in Sarah Bernhardt also—a true
tenderness and compassion. As a tragédienne she can be
compared to Talma only. Her greed for money soon ended
her brilliant career; unlike her sister in art, she amassed a
fortune, leaving over one million five hundred thousand francs.</p>
<p>Compared with Bernhardt, Rachel is said to have been
the greater in pure tragedy, but she did not possess as
many arts of fascination. There are many points of
similarity between the two actresses: Rachel was at
times artificial, wanting in tenderness and depth, while
at times she was superhuman in her passion and emotion,
and often put more into her rôle than was intended;
and the acting of Sarah Bernhardt has the same
characteristics. Rachel, however, was much more subject
to moods and fits of inspiration than is Bernhardt—especially
was she incapable of acting at her best on
evenings of her first appearance in a new rôle. Her
critical power was very weak in comparison with her intellectual
power, the reverse being true of her modern rival.
Rachel's greatest inspiration was <i>Phèdre</i>, and in this rôle
Bernhardt "is weak, unequal. We see all the viciousness
in <i>Phèdre</i> and none of her grandeur. She breaks herself
to pieces against the huge difficulties of the conception
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page410" id="page410"></a>[pg 410]</span>
and does not succeed in moving us.... Rachel was
the mouthpiece of the gods; no longer a free agent, she
poured forth every epithet of adoration that Aphrodite
could suggest, clambering up higher and higher in the intensity
of her emotions, whilst her audience hung breathless,
riveted on every word, and dared to burst forth in
thunders of applause only after she had vanished from their sight."</p>
<p>Both of these artists were children of the lower class,
and struggled with a fate which required grit, tenacity, and
determination to win success. The artist of to-day is no
social leader—"never the companion of man, but his slave
or his despot." It is entirely her physical charms and the
outward or artificial requisites of her art that make her
what she is. According to Mr. Lynch, her tragedy "is
but one of disorder, fury, and folly—passions not deep, but
unbridled and hysterical in their intensest display. Her
<i>forte</i> lies in the ornate and elaborate exhibition of rôles,"
for which she creates the most capricious and fantastic
garbs. She is a great manager,—omitting the financial
part,—quite a writer, somewhat of a painter and sculptor,
throwing her money away, except to her creditors, adored
by some and execrated by others. Her care of her physical
self and her utter disregard for money have undoubtedly
contributed to her long and brilliant career; rest and
idleness are her most cruel punishments. All nervous
energy, never happy, restless, she is a true <i>fin de siècle</i> product.</p>
<p>Among the large number of women who wielded influence
in the nineteenth century, either through their salons
or through their works, Mme. Guizot was one of the most
important as the author of treatises on education and as a
moralist. As an intimate friend of Suard, she was placed,
as a contributor, on the <i>Publiciste</i>, and for ten years wrote
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page411" id="page411"></a>[pg 411]</span>
articles on morality, society, and literature which showed a
varied talent, much depth, and justness. Fond of polemics,
she never failed to attack men like La Harpe, De Bonald,
etc., thus making herself felt as an influence to be reckoned
with in matters literary and moral.</p>
<p>As Mme. Guizot, she naturally had a powerful influence
upon her husband, shaping his thoughts and theories, for
she immediately espoused his principles and interests. In
1821, at the age of forty-eight, she began her literary
work again, after a period of rest, writing novels in which
the maternal love and the ardent and pious sentiments of a
woman married late in life are reflected. In her theories
of education she showed a highly practical spirit. Sainte-Beuve
said that, next to Mme. de Staël, "she was the
woman endowed with the most sagacity and intelligence;
the sentiment that she inspires is that of respect and
esteem—and these terms can only do her justice."</p>
<p>Mme. de Duras, in her salon, represented the Restoration,
"by a composite of aristocracy and affability, of
brilliant wit and seriousness, semi-liberal and somewhat
progressive." Her credit lies in the fact that, by her keen
wit, she kept in harmony a heterogeneous mixture of
social life. She wrote a number of novels, which are, for
the most part, "a mere delicate and discreet expression of her interior life."</p>
<p>Mme. Ackermann, German in her entire makeup, was,
among French female writers, one of the deepest thinkers
of the nineteenth century. A true mystic, she was, from
early youth, filled with ardent, dreamy vagaries, to which
she gave expression in verse—poems which reflect a pessimism
which is rather the expression of her life's experiences,
and of twenty-four years of solitude after two
years of happy wedded state, than an actual depression and
a discouraging philosophy of life. Her poetry shows a
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page412" id="page412"></a>[pg 412]</span>
vigor, depth, precision of form, and strength of expression
seldom found in poetry of French women.</p>
<p>One of the most conspicuous figures in the latter half of
the nineteenth century is Mme. Adam,—Juliette Lamber,—an
unusual woman in every respect. In 1879 she founded
the <i>Nouvelle Revue</i>, on the plan of the <i>Revue des Deux
Mondes</i>, for which she wrote political and literary articles
which showed much talent. In politics she is a Republican
and something of a socialist, a somewhat sensational—but
modestly sensational—figure. She has been called "a
necessary continuator of George Sand." Her salon was the
great centre for all Republicans and one of the most brilliant
and important of this century. In literature her name
is connected with the movement called neo-Hellenism, the
aim of which seems to have been to inspire a love and
sympathy for the art, religion, and literature of ancient
and modern Greece. In her works she shows a deep
insight into Greek life and art. Her name will always
be connected with the Republican movement in France;
as a salon leader, <i>femme de lettres</i>, journalist, and female
politician, no woman is better known in France in the nineteenth century.</p>
<p>A woman who might be called the rival of Mme. Adam,
but whose activity occurred much earlier in the century,
was Mme. Emile de Girardin,—Delphine Gay,—who ruled,
at least for a short time, the social and literary world of
Paris at her hôtel in the Rue Chaillot. Her very early
precocity, combined with her rare beauty, made her famous.
In 1836, after having written a number of poems which
showed a weak sentimentality and a quite mannered emotion,
she founded the <i>Courrier Français</i>, for which she wrote
articles on the questions of the day—effusions which were
written upon the spur of the moment and were very unreliable.
Her dramas were hardly successful, although they
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page413" id="page413"></a>[pg 413]</span>
were played by the great Rachel. Her present claim to
fame is based upon the brilliancy of her salon.</p>
<p>The future will possibly remember Mme. Alphonse
Daudet more as the wife of the great Daudet than as a
writer, although, according to M. Jules Lemaître, she possessed
the gift of <i>écriture artiste</i> to a remarkable degree.
According to him, sureness and exactness and a striking
truth of impressions are her characteristics as a writer.
She exercised a most wholesome power over Alphonse
Daudet, taking him away from bad influences, giving him
a home, dignity, and happiness, and saving him from brutality
and pessimism; she was his guardian and censor;
she preserved his grace and noble sentiments. The nature
of her relations to him should ensure the preservation of her name to posterity.</p>
<p>We are accustomed to give Gyp—Sybille Gabrielle Marie
Antoinette de Riquetti de Mirabeau, Comtesse de Martel
de Janville—little credit for seriousness or morality, associating
her with the average brilliant, flippant novelists,
who write because they possess the knack of writing in a
brilliant style. Her object is to show that man, in a civilized
state in society, is vain, coarse, and ridiculous. She
paints Parisian society to demonstrate that the apparently
fortunate ones of the world are not to be envied, that they
are miserable in their so-called joys and ridiculous in their
pleasures and their elegance. She has described the most
<i>risqué</i> situations and the most delightful women, but she
gives us to understand that the latter are not to be loved.
The vanity of the social world might be called her text.</p>
<p>Mme. Blanc—Thérèse de Solms—is known to us to-day
as the first woman to reveal English and American authors
and habits to her contemporaries. By advocating American
customs she has done much to ameliorate the condition
of French girls, by giving them a freer intercourse
<span class="pagenum"><a name="page414" id="page414"></a>[pg 414]</span>
with young men and permitting them to see more of the
world before entering upon married life.</p>
<p>Mme. Gréville, who died recently, deserves a place
among the prominent women writers of France. No
<i>femme de lettres</i> ever received more honors, prizes, and
decorations than she; a number of her writings were
crowned by the Academy. A member of the Société des
Gens de Lettres, with all her literary work she was a
domestic woman, keeping aloof from all feminist movements.
Her husband, Professor Durand, to show his
esteem and admiration for her, adopted her name—a wise
act, for it may preserve his name with that of his talented wife.</p>
<p>Many other names might be cited, but, as the list of
prominent women is practically without end, owing to the
indefiniteness of the term "prominent," we shall close
with these names, which have become familiar in both continents.</p>
<hr class="full" />
<pre>
End of Project Gutenberg's Women of Modern France, by Hugo P. Thieme
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WOMEN OF MODERN FRANCE ***
***** This file should be named 17159-h.htm or 17159-h.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/1/5/17159/
Produced by Thierry Alberto, William Flis and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team Europe at http://dp.rastko.net
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
https://gutenberg.org/license).
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
page at https://pglaf.org
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
gbnewby@pglaf.org
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit https://pglaf.org
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
https://www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
</pre>
</body>
</html>
|