Social Classes
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.
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. 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.
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 _pension_, where
instruction in religion was given her—she was instructed by the
sisters for one year.
After her confirmation and her first communion, and the home visits to
all the relatives, she was placed in a _maison religieuse_, 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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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 they give the tone." As we approach the end of the
century, the _bourgeoisie_ begins to assume the airs, habits,
extravagances, and even the immoralities, of the higher classes.
Below the _bourgeoise_ 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.
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.
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 _débauchés_ or
aspirants for social favors. Through their adventures they made their
way up in the world to high society.
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.
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 _débauchés_ of the street," says Mme. de Choiseul, one of
the purest of women.
This class usually created and established the styles. There is a
striking contrast between the standards of 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 _finesse, sveltesse et gracilité_, with an
extremely delicate complexion, a small mouth and thin nose, as opposed
to the strong, plump mouth and _nez léonin_ (leonine nose). More
animated, the face was all movement, the eyes talked; the _esprit_
passed to the face. It was the type of Marivaux' comedies, with an
_esprit mobile_, animated and colored by all the coquetries of grace.
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.
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 travelled over
entire Europe; all Europe was _à la française_, yoked and laced in
French styles, French in art, taste, industry. The domination of the
French _Galerie des Modes_ 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.
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.
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.
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 _classique_ 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 _savante_ 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 _roués et élégants enervés_ she soon became a leader. Mme. du
Deffand left a striking portrait of her:
"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 _esprit_ 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."
On one occasion M. de Tressan composed this famous couplet:
"Quand Boufflers parut à la cour,
On crut voir la mère d'Amour,
Chacun s'empressait à lui plaire,
Et chacun l'avait à son tour."
[When Boufflers appeared at court,
The mother of love was thought to be seen,
Everyone became so eager to please her,
And each one had her in his turn.]
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: _Eh bien! c'est moi._ 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.
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 _la bonne
compagnie_ 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 _tutoiement_ (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 character in the
_ancien salon français_, in the way of excellence of tone.
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 _genre_ less perfect.'"
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, _la parfaite bonne compagnie_, 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 _savoir
vivre_, by all possible researches and refinements of _esprit_. It
fixed everything—usages, 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."
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.
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 _avait un prince du
sang_ (was mistress of a prince of the blood). When reminded of her
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 _fille_ (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.
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.
All who came in contact with her recognized the distinction, elevation
of _esprit_, 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. 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."
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 _esprit_ 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.
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 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:
"Edinburgh, 20th of August, 1776.
"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.
"David Hume."
Hume died five days after this letter was written.
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 _esprit_ 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."
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.
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 _volupté_.
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 _volupté_, 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.
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 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, _ivresse d'esprit_, 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.
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.
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 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 _roués_, 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.
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."
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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 until they included the _bourgeoisie_ and,
finally, the offspring of the common _femme du peuple_. 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 _roués_
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.
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.
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
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 _La Mort de Mademoiselle Le
Couvreur_, which was the cause of his being again obliged to leave
Paris.
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 _tragédienne_. When Mlle. Clairon received an
offer to play alternately with the favorite, Mlle. Dumesnil, she
selected as her opening part _Phèdre_, the _rôle de triomphe_ of her
rival.
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
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.
Mlle. Clairon did as much for the theatre as did Adrienne Le Couvreur,
especially in discarding, in her _Phèdre_, 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 _grande
révérence_, which was later supplanted by the courtesy of Mme. de
Pompadour.
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 _Siège de
Calais_, 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.
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 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 _maîtresse-en-titre_ was called to her beauty and vocal charm.
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 _bons mots_ 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.
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 _amant utile_, and the farmer-general, M.
de La Borde, her _amant honoraire_.
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 _débauchées_, the most
seductive and lascivious girls of the opera; at the last function,
luxury and debauch were 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.
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 _fille d'opéra_."
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."
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 _Robe à la La Guimard_. Inasmuch as
the 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."
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.
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.