Madame de Pompadour's elevation to power was the result neither of chance nor of romance. It was brought about by a carefully laid plan, on the part of her parents and certain scheming politicians, to make use of a beautiful girl to advance their own interests. Jeanne Poisson was born in 1722, and at an early age gave evidence of such unusual qualities, that her mother and her guardian, M. Le Normant de Tournehem (who also is believed to be her father), devoted their energies to making her worthy of a place at court. She had a fine natural talent for music, drawing, and engraving--some excellent examples of her work in the latter field still being preserved--and she united with these a rare physical beauty. M. Leroy, Keeper of the Park of Versailles, thus describes her at the time of her meeting with the King: "She was taller than the average, graceful, supple, and elegant. Her features comported well with her stature, a perfect oval face, framed by beautiful hair of a light shade, large eyes marked by eyebrows of the same hue, a perfect nose, a charming mouth, teeth of exceptional beauty displayed in a delicious smile, the rarest of complexions," etc., etc. He continues his superlative adjectives, indicating that the King was not the only susceptible person in the Park, finally adding: "The features of the Marquise were lighted by the play of infinite variety, but never could one perceive any discordance. All was harmony and grace." Truly, a worthy portrait of a famous beauty!
At the age of nineteen, Mlle. Poisson gave her hand to a kinsman of her guardian, M. Le Normant d'Etoiles. The marriage seems to have been the result of a sincere passion on his part, but was looked upon merely as a matter of convenience by everybody else; for not long thereafter we find her luring the King with her "delicious smile," while he was hunting in the forest of Senart; and in 1745 she was formally installed at Court, under the title of the Marquise de Pompadour. This story, unadorned, may sound paltry, even commercial, but we should not fall into the error of judging it by twentieth century standards. The morals of the French Court, never austere, were especially lax in the reign of Louis XV., and galanteries were the fashion, rather than the exception; while for the post of King's favorite there was a continual rivalry among high-born dames.
Once in this coveted position, the Marquise devoted her energies to two things, and these she kept ever before her,--the pleasing of her royal master, and the furthering of her party's interests. How well she succeeded, this book shows. She entertained and amused the King by elaborate pageants, in the various châteaux which she built, or remodelled. Bellevue, Choisy, the Hermitage at Versailles, Menars, La Celle, Montretout,--these are among the monuments of her lavish career, and in these palaces she accumulated costly art objects, such as the Saxe porcelains, the Boulle marbles, and the sumptuous hangings and fittings which have later been known as "Pompadour." Herself an artist and connoisseur, she "set the pace" during a period of unbridled luxury. She was patroness of the famous Sèvres ware. She drew around her such painters and littérateurs as Bouchardon, Carle Van Loo, Marmontel, Bernis, Crébillon, and Duclos. To her Voltaire dedicated his Tancrède.
This was her brilliant side; but upon the deplorable side must be reckoned her extravagance and her meddling in statecraft. Ambitious for power, she surrounded the doting monarch with her "creatures"--Rouillé, Saint Florentin, Puisieux, Machault. With the exception of the Duc de Choiseul, her appointees were notoriously weak--and this at a time when the War of the Austrian Succession and the Seven Years' War called for strong government. Won over by the cajoleries of Maria Theresa, who called her "cousin," she induced the King to accept the Austrian Alliance; and again, in 1758, despite Bernis and other ministers, she prevailed upon him to maintain it throughout the disastrous war which was only ended by the Treaty of Paris. In addition to this, she became embroiled with the Church party, being especially bitter against the Jesuits. It is no wonder, therefore, that she left her memory in the hands of her enemies. It is no wonder that the seeds of her folly and extravagance, as well as those of her successor, Du Barry, resulted in the bloody harvest of the Revolution. "Après nous le déluge!" ("After us the deluge") was her sinister motto, now famous in history, and it carried with it the weight of prophecy.
To the end she remained, exteriorally, in full power. In 1752 the Marquise was made Duchesse de Pompadour; and four years later "Dame d'Honneur" to the Queen, a title of charmingly unconscious irony! The day of her demise (1764) was stormy, and the King is said to have been genuinely grieved over the loss, remarking: "Madame la Marquise has ill weather for her journey."
But to the last she herself was charming, débonnaire, masterful. She had smiled her way into power, and she smiled even in the face of death. "She felt it a duty to maintain to the end the pose of elegance which she had established for herself," say her French critics. "For the last time she applied the touch of rouge to her cheeks, by which she had hidden, for several years, the slow ravages of decay; set her lips in a final smile; and with the air of a coquette uttered to the priest, who extended to her the last rites of religion, this laughing quip (mot d'élégance): "Attendez-moi, monsieur le curé, nous partirons ensemble" ("Wait a moment, monsieur, and we will set forth together").
THE MEMOIRS OF LOUIS XV.
AND OF
MADAME DE POMPADOUR
SECTION I
An early friend of mine, who married well at Paris, and who has the reputation of being a very clever woman, has often asked me to write down what daily passed under my notice; to please her, I made little notes, of three or four lines each, to recall to my memory the most singular or interesting facts; as, for instance--attempt to assassinate the King; he orders Madame de Pompadour to leave the Court; M. de Machault's ingratitude, etc. I always promised my friend that I would, some time or other, reduce all these materials into the form of a regular narrative. She mentioned the "Recollections of Madame de Caylus," which were, however, not then printed; and pressed me so much to produce a similar work, that I have taken advantage of a few leisure moments to write this, which I intend to give her, in order that she may arrange it and correct the style. I was for a long time about the person of Madame de Pompadour, and my birth procured for me respectful treatment from herself, and from some distinguished persons who conceived a regard for me. I soon became the intimate friend of Doctor Quesnay, who frequently came to pass two or three hours with me.
His house was frequented by people of all parties, but the number was small, and restricted to those who were on terms of greatest intimacy with him. All subjects were handled with the utmost freedom; and it is infinitely to his honour and theirs that nothing was ever repeated.