The Fermier-général had a nephew named Lenorman d'Etioles, a young man of Amiable character, and with the feelings and habits of a gentleman. This was the reputed heir of the immense wealth of the old Fermier-général, according to the established laws, though Jeanne had on her side also some claims to a share of the property. A very simple means was however devised to prevent all after litigation, namely, by arranging a marriage between the two young people. Jeanne, as we have already seen, loved the king, and she married d'Etioles without her feelings in this respect undergoing any change. Versailles was her horizon, the goal to which she aspired. D'Etioles, it is said, became deeply enamored of his young bride; but this passion, which amounted almost to fanaticism, never touched her heart. To use her own words, she "accepted him with resignation, as a misfortune which was not to last long."
The hôtel of the new-married couple was organized upon a lordly footing; the best society in Paris was there to be found, for all those whose company was worth having deserted the salons of the fashionable world for those of Madame d'Etioles. Never until then had such a lavish display of luxury been seen. The young bride hoped by these means to make a noise at court, and thus pique the curiosity of the king. The days passed in fêtes and entertainments of every kind. The celebrated comedians of the day, the popular poets, artists, foreigners of distinction, all had ready access to the splendid mansion of Lenorman d'Etioles, of which the mistress was the life and ornament; every one visited there, in short, except the king.
Ever since the celebrated réunions of the Hôtel de Rambouillet, there have always been in France a succession of circles of beaux esprits, presided over by some queen of fashion. Louis XIV. hated these réunions, saying that the court was spread abroad into all [*illegible] hôtels of Paris. In fact, for many, the [*illegible ] of the Duchesse de Main or of the [*illegible ]ise de Lambert, of Madame de Tencin [*illegible] Madame Géoffrin, possessed far greater [*illegible ]ons than the already superannuated [*illegible ] of Versailles. The French Revolution [*illegible ] its rise in these very circles, for in them they laughed a little at the great powers of the earth, and there philosophy and liberty were allowed elbow-room. Thus, at Madame d'Etioles' might be seen old Fontenelle, who believed in nothing, not even in his own heart; Voltaire, still young, and armed with the keen weapons of his ready wit, prepared to make war upon those whose reign was of this world, above all upon the Jesuits; Montesquieu and Maupertuis, born skeptics and mockers; along with many others of a kindred spirit who had beheld the decline of royalty and religion, when Louis XIV., in the latter years of his reign, had permitted Scarron's widow to make religion fashionable, by cloaking France with the mask of hypocritical piety—a mask soon, however, to be torn aside by Philippe of Orleans in the wild saturnalia of the Regency. The Abbé de Bernis was also a constant visitor at the house of Madame d'Etioles; he was, in the parlance of the time, the Abbé de la Maison—it is true he had no other benefice—but little thought then, either the abbé of the house or the mistress of the house, that within ten years from that time they would reign over France as absolute ministers. There was one other individual of this brilliant circle worthy of a passing notice, and this was an amiable and simple-minded poet, of good appearance and the best temper in the world, named Gentil Bernard.[A] Madame d'Etioles used to pet him like a spoiled child. Some said he was her lover. However that may be, Madame de Pompadour, who, whether she had or had not a secret penchant for the poet, never forgot her old friends, procured for him, as soon as she came into power, the appointment of librarian to the king at the château de Choisy, where she built him, at her own expense, a little cottage ornée, named by the poets of the time, the Parnassus of the French Anacreon. This appointment was a complete sinecure, for we know that the king never opened a book, and we are equally assured that Bernard never put his foot inside the library.
[Footnote A: Pierre Bernard, nicknamed Gentil Bernard by Voltaire[1] was born at Grenoble about the same time as Louis XV. "It is strange," said Madame de Pompadour later, "that two lovers should be born for me during the same season—a king and a poet." Bernard ever refused all favors, and was singularly devoid of ambition. "What can I do for you, my dear poet?" Madame de Pompadour is reported to have said on her coming into Power. Bernard contented himself with kissing the hand of the marchioness. "Go to," returned she, "you will never get on in the world."
[Footnote 1: This nickname was given in a poetical invitation to
a supper-party at Madame Duchatelet's, sent by Voltaire to the poet:
"Au nom du Pinde et de Cythère
Gentil Bernard est averti,
Que l'Art d'Aimer doit Samedi
Venir souper chez l'Art de Plaire.">[]
We have already named the Abbé, afterward Cardinal, de Bernis; and as he was the only individual who ever succeeded in being admitted into the entire confidence of the royal favorite, a brief notice of his birth, and rise and fall at court, may not be altogether out of place, so closely linked for many years were his fortunes with those of Madame de Pompadour.
Joachim de Pierres, abbé de Bernis, was born at Saint-Marcel, near Narbonne, in the month of May, 1715. His family, which was of the most ancient noblesse, was allied to the king through the house of Rohan; a circumstance, however, which did not prevent it being one of the poorest in the kingdom. As his relatives had nothing to give Joachim, they made him an abbé. Like Bernard, he came when very young to Paris, confiding in his lucky planet, smiling on every one, and reaping a plentiful harvest of smiles in return. He was then a handsome young man, with a bright eye and an animated mouth. In figure he was herculean, and here we find, in contradiction of Buffon's saying, that the style was not the man, no more than it was with Bernard, who was also of large stature.
Joachim passed the winter at Saint-Sulpice, but, like Boufflers a little later, far from singing the Canticles, he employed his time in the more mundane occupation of scribbling love-songs. At the end of the winter he was appointed vicar in a little town of his native department. "Vicar!" said Joachim; "I'll not disturb myself for such a trifle." Shortly afterward he was nominated Abbé de Bernis; but not a step would he budge from the capital. In Paris then he remained, penniless it is true, but without a care or thought for the future, and full of confidence in his lucky planet—a confidence which, it must be said, was not misplaced. His acquaintance with Madame d'Etioles began through an intrigue which he had with a certain marchande des modes, who worked for the future favorite. Having perceived the young girl one night at the theater in company with her lover, Madame d'Etioles summoned her the following morning to her house, and in the course of conversation inquired if that handsome young man she had with her at the theater was her cousin.
"No, madame," replied the milliner; "he is my lover."