Part 1

MEMOIRS

OF THE

Marchioness of Pompadour.

WRITTEN BY HERSELF.

Wherein are Displayed

The Motives of the Wars, Treaties of Peace, Embassies, and Negotiations, in the several Courts of Europe:

The Cabals and Intrigues of Courtiers; the Characters of Generals, and Ministers of State, with the Causes of their Rise and Fall; and, in general, the most remarkable Occurrences at the Court of France, during the last twenty Years of the Reign of Lewis XV.

Translated from the French.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

LONDON:

Printed for P. VAILLANT, in the Strand; and W. JOHNSTON, in Ludgate-Street.

MDCCLXVI.

THE

EDITOR’S PREFACE.

The following work must be acknowledged highly interesting to these times; and to posterity will be still more so. These are not the memoirs of a mere woman of pleasure, who has spent her life in a voluptuous court, but the history of a reign remarkable for revolutions, wars, intrigues, alliances, negotiations; the very blunders of which are not beneath the regard of politicians, as having greatly contributed to give a new turn to the affairs of Europe.

The Lady who drew the picture was known to be an admirable colourist.

They who were personally acquainted with Mademoiselle Poisson, before and since her marriage with M. le Normand, know her to have been possessed of a great deal of that wit, which, with proper culture, improves into genius.

The King called her to court at a tempestuous season of life, when the passions reign uncontrouled, and by corrupting the heart, enlarge the understanding.

They who are near the persons of Kings, for the most part, surpass the common run of mankind, both in natural and acquired talents; for ambition is ever attended with a sort of capacity to compass its ends; and all courtiers are ambitious.

No sooner does the Sovereign take a mistress, than the courtiers flock about her. Their first concern is to give her her cue; for as they intend to avail themselves of her interest with the King, she must be made acquainted with a multitude of things: she may be said to receive her intelligence from the first hand, and to draw her knowledge at the fountain head.

Lewis XV. intrusted the Marchioness de Pompadour with the greatest concerns of the nation; so that if she had been without those abilities which distinguished her at Paris, she must still have improved in the school of Versailles.

Her talents did not clear her in the public eye; never was a favourite more outrageously pelted with pamphlets, or exposed to more clamorous invectives. Of this her Memoirs are a full demonstration; her enemies charged her with many very odious vices, without so much as allowing her one good quality. The grand subject of murmur was the bad state of the finances, which they attributed to her amours with the King.

They who brand the Marchioness with having run Lewis XV. into vast expences, seem to have forgot those which his predecessor’s mistresses had brought on the state.

Madame de la Valiere, even before she was declared mistress to Lewis XIV. induced him to give entertainments, which cost the nation more than ever Madame de Pompadour’s fortune amounted to.

Madame de Montespan put the same Prince to very enormous expences; she appeared always with the pomp and parade of a Queen, even to the having guards to attend her.

Scarron’s widow carried her pride and ostentation still further: she drew the King in to marry her, and this mistress came to be queen, an elevation which will be an eternal blot on the Prince’s memory.

This clandestine commerce gave rise to an infamous practice at court, with which Madame de Pompadour cannot be charged. All these concubines having children, to gratify their vanity, they must be legitimated; and, afterwards, they found means to marry these sons, or daughters, of prostitution, to the branches of the royal blood; a flagrant debasement of the house which were in kin to the crown: for though a Sovereign can legitimate a bastard, to efface the stain of bastardy is beyond his power. The consequence was, that the descendants of that clandestine issue aspired to the throne; and, through the King’s scandalous amours, that lustre which is due only to virtue, fell to the portion of vice.

It was given out in France, and over all Europe, that Madame de Pompadour was immensely rich: but nothing of this appeared at her death, except her magnificent moveables, and these were rather the consequences of her rank at court, than the effects of her vanity. This splendor his Majesty partook of, as visiting her every day.

The public is generally an unfair judge of those who hold a considerable station at court, deciding from vague reports, which are often the forgeries of ill-grounded prejudice. Madame de Pompadour has been charged with insatiable avarice. Had this been the case, she might have indulged herself at will: she was at the spring-head of opulence; the King never refused her any thing; so that she might have amassed any money; which she did not. There are now existing, in France, fifty wretches of financiers, each of a fortune far exceeding her’s.

It was also said, that the best thing which could happen to France, was to be rid of this rapacious favourite. Well; she is no more; and what is France the better for it? Has her death been followed by one of those sudden revolutions in the government, which usher in a better form of administration? Have they who looked on this Lady as an unsurmountable obstacle to France’s greatness, proposed any better means for raising it from its present low state? Is there more order in the government? are the finances improved? is there more method and oeconomy? No, affairs are still in the same bad ways the lethargy continues as profound as ever. The ministry, which before Madame de Pompadour’s death was fast asleep, is not yet awake. Every thing remains in _statu quo_. Some European governments have no regular motion; they advance either too fast, or too slow; their steps are either precipitate, or sluggish.

In this favourite’s time, there was too much shifting and changing in the ministry; now she is gone, there is none at all, &c. &c.

I am very far from intending a panegyric on Madame de Pompadour. Faults she had, which posterity will never forgive. All the calamities of France were imputed to her, and she should have resigned in compliance to the public: a nation is to be respected even in its prejudices. With any tolerable share of patriotism, Madame de Pompadour would have quitted the court, and thus approved herself deserving of the favour for which she was execrated; but her soul was not capable of such an act of magnanimity: she knew nothing of that philosophy which, inspiring a contempt of external grandeur, endears the subject to the Prince, and exalts him above the throne.

There is great appearance that this Lady intended to revise both her Memoirs and her will, and that death prevented her: she used to write, by starts, detached essays, without any coherence; and these on separate bits of paper. These were very numerous and diffuse, as generally are the materials intended to form a book, if she really had any such design.

We were obliged to throw by on all sides, and clear our way through an ocean of writings, a long and tiresome business.

It is far from being improbable, that Madame de Pompadour got some statesman, well versed in such matters, to assist her in compiling this book: however that be, we give it as it stands in her original manuscript.

MEMOIRS

OF THE

Marchioness of Pompadour.

The following narrative is not confined to the particular history of my life. My design is more extensive: I shall endeavour to give a true representation of the court of France under the reign of Lewis XV. The private memoirs of a King’s mistress are in themselves of small import; but to know the character of the Prince who raises her to favour; to be let into the intrigues of his reign, the genius of the courtiers, the practices of the ministers, the views of the great, the projects of the ambitious; in a word, into the secret springs of politics, is not a matter of indifference.

It is very seldom that the public judges rightly of what passes in the cabinet: they hear that the King orders armies to take the field; that he wins or loses battles; and on these occurrences they argue according to their particular prejudices.

History does not come nearer the mark; the generality of annalists being only the echoes of the public mistakes.

These papers I do not intend to publish in my life-time; but should they appear after my death, posterity will see in them a faithful draught of the several parts of the administration, which were acted, in some measure, under my eye. Had I never lived at Versailles, the events of our times might have been an inexplicable riddle to posterity; so complicated are the incidents, and in many particulars so contradictory, that, without a key, there is no decyphering them.

Ministers and other place-men are not always acquainted with the means, which they themselves make use of for attaining certain ends. A plenipotentiary very well knows that he signs a treaty of peace, but he is ignorant of the King’s motives for putting an end to the war.

Every politician strikes out a system in his own sagacious brain; the speculatists have often fathered on France what she never dreamed of; and many refined schemes have been attributed to her ministers, which never made part of their plan.

It is not long since a minister of a certain court said to me at Versailles, That the two last German wars, which cost France so much blood, and three hundred millions of livres, was the greatest stroke of policy which the age afforded; as this court had thereby insensibly, and unknown to the rest of Europe, reduced the power of the Queen of Hungary: for, added he, if, on the demise of Charles VI. this crown had openly bent all its forces against the house of Austria, a general alliance would have opposed it; whereas it has weakened that house by a series of little battles and repeated losses, &c. &c.

The inserting such an anecdote in the annals of our age would be sufficient to disfigure the whole history. The truth is, that they who were at the head of the French affairs, during these two wars, had no manner of genius.

All details not relative to the state I shall carefully omit, as rather writing the age of Lewis XV. than the history of my private life. The transactions of a King’s favourite concern only the reign of that Prince; but truth is of perpetual concern.

I hope the public does not expect from me a circumstantial journal of Lewis XV’s gallantries: the King had many transitory amours during my residence at Versailles; but none of his mistresses were admitted into the public affairs. The reign of the far greater part began and ended in the Prince’s bed. These foibles, so closely connected with human nature, belong rather to a King’s private life, than to the public history of a Monarch: I may sometimes mention them, but it will only be by the way. I shall likewise be silent in regard to my family. The particular favour with which I have been honoured by Lewis XV. has placed my origin in broad day-light. A Monarch in raising a woman to the summit of grandeur, of course lays open the blemishes of her birth. The annals of the universe have been overlooked, to make a singular case of what has been almost a general practice in the world.

The Roman Emperors often raised so favour and eminence women of more obscure birth than mine: but, without going so far backward, the history of our own Kings abounds with such instances. Though the widow of Scarron the poet rose a step higher than I, she was not born to such exaltation. It is true her father was a gentleman; but all women, not born Princesses, are at a like distance from the throne.

A multitude of injurious reports have been propagated concerning my parents. A wretched anonymous writer has gone even farther, by publishing a scandalous book with the title of the history of my life. The Count D’Affry wrote to me from Holland, that this production was of the growth of Great-Britain. The English seem to make it their particular business to throw dirt at persons of distinguished rank at the court of France: that government is said to claim such a privilege, in order to keep up the hatred between the two nations.

Though my birth had nothing great in it, my education was not neglected. I was taught dancing, music, and the rules of elocution, by excellent masters; and those little talents have proved of the highest use to me. I also read a great deal, and a favourite writer of mine was one Madame de Villedieu. Her picture of the Roman empire entertained me exceedingly. I even felt a very lively joy in observing that the greatest revolutions in the world have been owing to love.

After bestowing on me all the accomplishments which advantageously distinguish a young person of my sex, I was married to one whom I did not love; and a misfortune still greater was, that he loved me. This I call a misfortune, and indeed I know not a greater on earth; for a woman not beloved by a man, whom she likewise has married without any affection, at least comforts herself in his indifference.

During the first years of my marriage, the King’s gallantries were much talked of at Paris: his fleeting amours opened a field for all women, who had beauty enough to put in for his heart.

The post of mistress to Lewis XV. was often vacant. At Versailles all the passions had an appearance of debauchery. In that airy region love was soon exhausted, as consisting wholly in fruition. Nothing of delicacy was to be seen at court; the whole scene of sensibility was in the Prince’s bed. This Monarch often laid down with a heart full of love, and the next morning rose with as much indifference.

This account made me shudder; for I own I had then formed a design of winning the heart of that Prince. I was afraid that he was so used to change, as to be past all constancy.

I even, then, blushed at the thought of giving myself up to an inclination of no farther consequence than a momentary gratification of the senses; but was fixed on my design.

I had often seen the King at Versailles, without being perceived by him; our looks had never met; my eyes had a great deal to say, but had no opportunity of explaining my desires. At length I had an interview with the Monarch, and, for the first time, talked with him in private. There is no expressing what passed in me at this first conversation; fear, hope, and admiration, successively agitated my soul. The King soon dispelled my confusion; for Lewis XV. is certainly the most affable Prince in his court, if not in the whole world. In private discourse his rank lays no restraint, and all ideas of the throne are suspended; an air of candour and goodness diffuses itself through every part of his behaviour; in short, he can forget that he is a King, to be the more a gentleman.

Our conversation was to me all charming: I pleased and was pleased. The King has since owned to me, that he loved me from that first interview. It was there agreed that we should see one another privately at Versailles: he was very much for my immediately coming to an apartment in the palace: he even insisted on it; but I begged he would give me leave to remain still incognito for some time; and the King, being the most polite man in France, yielded to my request. On my return to Paris, a thousand fresh emotions rose in my breast. A strange thing is the human heart! we feel the effects of those passions of which we know not the cause. I am still at a loss whether I loved the King from this first meeting: that it gave me infinite pleasure, I know; but pleasure is not always a consequence of love. We are susceptible of a multitude of other passions, which may produce the like effect.

I experienced a thousand delights in our secret intercourse: little do I wonder that Madame de la Valiere, in the infancy of her amours with Lewis XIV. was so transported with the sole enjoyment of that Monarch’s affection: but at length, the King requiring that I should live at Versailles, I complied with his desire.

Now was my first appearance at court. Very faint and imperfect are the descriptions which books give of this grand theatre. I thought myself amidst another species of mortals: I observed that their manners and usages are not the same; and that in regard to dress, deportment, and language, the inhabitants of Versailles are entirely different from those of Paris. Every courtier, besides his personal character, frames to himself another, under which he acts his several parts. In town, virtue and vice are streightened; here both range at large. The passions are the stronger, as they happen to be at the source of the means of gratifying them. Private interest, from whence they derive all their activity, is there in its centre. The Prince’s favour gives life and motion to the courtier’s soul: without a beam from the throne, it is all a horrid gloom.

To appear with dignity on this theatre, where I was an utter stranger, I saw that it behoved me to make it my first care to examine into the temper of those actors who played the capital parts.

Of his Majesty I knew nothing, but by common report; and that, when it relates to a reigning Prince, is generally wrong; either flattery attributing too many virtues to him, or malevolence charging him with too many vices.

Lewis XV. is endowed with great natural parts, a surprising quickness of apprehension, and solidity of judgment. He, at once, discerns the springs which give motion to the most complicated affairs of politics: he knows all the weaknesses of the general system, and the faults of each particular administration. This Prince has a noble and exalted soul: the blood of the legislator, the hero, and the warrior, runs in his veins; but a narrow education has stifled the effect of these advantages. Cardinal Fleury, having not one great principle in himself, trained this Prince to nothing but trifles: yet this unequal education did not extinguish in him the most amiable qualities which can adorn a Sovereign. It is impossible to exceed the goodness of Lewis XV’s heart: he is humane, mild, affable, compassionate, just, delighting in good, a declared enemy to every thing which does not bear the stamp of honour and probity, &c. &c.

Singular likewise are the virtues of the Queen: she has laid all domestic hardships at the foot of the cross; so far from lamenting a fate, which would have embittered the whole life of another Princess, she considers it as a particular favour of Heaven, from a persuasion that Providence is pleased to try her firmness in this life, in order to confer the greater reward on her in the next. None of those fretful words which speak a rankled heart ever came from her: she dwells with pleasure on the King’s eminent qualities, and draws a veil over his weaknesses: she never speaks of him but with a sensible respect and veneration: it is impossible for any lady to carry Christian perfection to a higher degree, and to concenter so many qualities in a rank, where the least defects efface the greatest virtues.

The Dauphin, being at that time very young, did not in the least concern himself in public affairs. The King had ordered him not to interfere in politics, and he seemed sufficiently inclined to conform to such injunctions.

The young Princesses kept pretty much in their apartments, and read a great deal. Sometimes, indeed, they went a-hunting, dined with the King in public, shewed themselves at the balls; then withdrew, without much minding the intrigues of the court.

The Duke of Orleans, though first Prince of the blood, seldom came to Versailles: he had given into devotion, and spent his life in deeds of charity.

The Prince of Conti was at that time in the field, and wholly taken up with military glory.

Condé was very young, and his uncle Charolois sunk in the most debauched intemperance.

The other Princes of the royal blood had little or no share in public affairs; accordingly they never came to Versailles, but to be present at a great council, or at the King’s levee.

Cardinal Tencin bore a great sway at court; the King confided in him very much; so that they often used to be busy together. The most weighty concerns of the crown were put into this ecclesiastic’s hands. Many extolled him as a great minister; but as I scarce knew the man, I shall say nothing of him: yet, when I think how much France has suffered by Richelieu, Mazarin, and Fleury, I own I do not like to see people of that class at the head of affairs.

The Count de Maurpas excelled all the ministers of that time in genius, activity, and penetration: he was of as long a standing in the ministry as Lewis XV. in the sovereignty. To him the kingdom is indebted for several noble institutions. It was he who re-established the navy, which, after the death of Lewis XIV. had been most shamefully neglected. I have been told that the Levant trade was entirely his work. He was indefatigable in his department; and his dispatches were surprisingly accurate. I have seen many of his letters; and think it is scarce possible to comprize so many things in so few words.

The d’Argensons, who had been introduced lately into the ministry, had as yet no settled character: they were said not to want either genius or probity; but that is not always sufficient for a proper discharge of such a post. I have heard that many qualifications are requisite; and that, if the least of them be wanting, there is no making any figure in the ministry.

The Count de St. Florentin, who managed ecclesiastical matters, was little considered either at court or in town. He kept himself neuter amidst the intrigues of Versailles, minding only the business of his own department. As no great genius is required to issue letters _de cachet_, and banish priests, he filled his post with all the dignity of a minister whose only business is to sign.

Orry, the Comptroller-general, was looked upon as a man of abilities, from his talent at scheming pecuniary edicts. Within some months after I had been settled at Versailles, he laid before the King no less than twenty-five, and these were to bring in two hundred millions. He was called the _Grand Financier_, from his finding resources for the King, by impairing those of the state.

The Prince de Soubise was a man of parts and discernment. He knew a great deal; but his friends could have wished that he had not embarked in war. The soldiery had no opinion of him: perhaps in this they were wrong; yet a great man, who would be useful to his country, must give way to public prejudice.

Marshal Noailles had still greater abilities; so that it may be questioned whether ever any one statesman or general possessed so extensive a knowlege. The forming of him was an effort of nature. There is not a science relating to political, civil, and military government, with which he was not intimately acquainted; but the exertion of these qualities was limited to the cabinet. His timidity and irresolution, in a day of action, benumbed his faculties, otherwise so excellent: his genius was certainly vast and extensive; and I question whether Europe had his equal in council.