Salon Leaders Mme. de Tencin, Mme. Geoffrin, Mme. du Deffand, Mlle. de
Lespinasse, Mme. du Châtelet
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.
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 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.
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 _bon mot_ was the event
of the day and travelled over all the civilized world.
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,
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.
Every century has had its specialty: the twelfth had its crusades, the
sixteenth its religious struggles, the seventeenth its grand _goût_,
the eighteenth its conversation and love of reason, the nineteenth
its political struggles; and each one displayed the French passion for
_esprit_; the eighteenth, however, was, _par excellence_, the century
of _esprit_, and it was most remarkably developed in woman.
"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."
_La Ménagerie de Mme. de Tencin_ 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 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.
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.
The great literary men whom Mme. de Tencin gathered about her,
Fontenelle, Montesquieu, Mairan, Marivaux, Helvétius, Marmontel, were
called her menagerie, or her _bêtes_. 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; but he who
in his style wishes to have subtleness, amenity, charm, flexibility,
will do well, I think, to live with woman."
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."
Every New Year's Day the _bêtes_ 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—_Le Siège de Calais_ and _Les
Malheurs de l'Amour_. 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.
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
_contrôleur-général_, and her lover Dubois, she was able 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.
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 _bêtes_ 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
_bêtes_ all flocked to the _salon bourgeois_, 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.
Mme. Geoffrin was born in Paris in 1699, and was the daughter of M.
Rodet, _valet de chambre_ 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 _Manufacture
des Glaces de Gobelins_. 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 her _esprit_, tact,
intelligence, and admirable taste in dress were all effective in
bringing about the desired results.
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: _Voil qui est
bien!_
Her husband was the _maître d'hôtel_, 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 _visiteurs flottants_,
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:
_Mais, c'était mon mari. Hélas! il est mort, le bon homme._ [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, assembled in his wife's salon, and to
witness her social success."
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.
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.
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: _Soyons aimables_ [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 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: _Donner et pardonner_
[Give and forgive].
Stanislas, King of Poland, her _protégé_, 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: _Maman, votre
fils est roi_ [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.
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."
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 _La Fontenelle des Femmes_. 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 _frotteur_ [floor polisher] of it."
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 _esprit_, 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.
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 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 _esprit_ 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.
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 _nullité rare_.
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 regent, from whom she received six thousand
francs life income.
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.
At the age of about thirty-four, Mme. du Deffand returned to a kind
of regular life, and, in time, won a reputation for _esprit_, 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 _bons mots_, glancing epigrams, witty verses, were the
avenues to social success."
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: _Voilà
bien du bruit pour une omelette au lard_. [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.
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 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.
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."
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, _le Président_ Hénault and Pont de Veyle,
besides D'Alembert, Turgot, Voltaire, Montesquieu, Necker, Walpole,
the Abbés Barthélemy and Pernetty, the Chevalier de Lisle, de Formant,
_le Docteur_ 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.
Her salon, above all others, was the centre of cosmopolitanism,
where all great men, foreigners and natives, found 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 _déclamateurs_; it was a royalist
salon without illusion, hence indifferent to all questions. It
represented the perfect type of the French model of _esprit de
finesse_,—that is, precision,—and its leader possessed a keen
insight into human character.
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.
He felt himself flattered in being the one preferred by such a
distinguished old lady of high society.
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.
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."
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 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."
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: _les trompeurs_, _les trompés_, _les
trompettes_. 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
_milieu_); she was too old, or lived too long; she belongs to another
age."
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, 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.
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.
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 her
but to await deliverance by death." This came to her in 1780.
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."
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 _esprit_. 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.
"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 _esprit_, 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."
(1774.) "They believe Mme. du Deffand to possess more _esprit_ than
she really has; they praise and fear her, but she merits neither the
one nor the other. As far as her _esprit_ 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."
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:
"Qui vous voit et qui vous entend
Perd bientôt sa philosophie;
Et tout sage avec Du Deffand
Voudrait en fou passer sa vie."
[He who sees and hears you,
Soon loses his philosophy.
Wise he who with Du Deffand
Insane would pass his life.]
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.
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 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.
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.
Her salon immediately became known as the official encyclopædia
resort, Mme. du Deffand dubbing it _La Muse de l'Encyclopédie_.
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 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!
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.
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 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."
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.
Mme. du Deffand's friend, _le Président_ 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 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 _le
monde_. In vain one would transplant you—you would take root
anywhere. In short, you are not an ordinary person."
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.
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
years, while he was under the influence of madame, appeared _Mérope_,
_Alzire_, the _Siècle de Louis XIV_, etc.
Mme. du Châtelet was the one great _femme savante_ of that century. In
the preface to her _Traduction des Principes Mathématiques de Newton_,
Voltaire wrote: "Never was a woman so _savante_ as she, and never did
a woman merit less the saying, _she is a femme savante_. She did
not select her friends from those circles where there was a war of
_esprit_, 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 _esprit_
did not make her inaccessible to the beauties of sentiment."
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."