Part 8 (1/2)

Of the military men who acquired power few appear to have indulged in literary tastes, or to have formed libraries. Many handsome ex-libris exist, carrying warlike trophies,--cannons, drums, tents, and flags,--such, for instance, as that of Claude Martin, but few indeed of these plates bear the names of any of the more famous French commanders.

Even the plate of Murat (of later date) is doubtful, for what time had _le beau sabreur_ for books?

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOOK-PLATE OF J. G. R. BOSCHERON, 1777.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOOK-PLATE OF A. F. A. BOULA DE NANTEUIL, 1777.]

Of the famous Court beauties who held influence over the kings, some possessed, and others affected, a taste for books, and volumes from their collections are eagerly sought for, partly for their a.s.sociations, and partly on account of the elegance of their bindings. To name three or four of the most beautiful and most famous of these fair bibliophiles will suffice. First comes Diane de Poitiers, whose monogram, interlaced with that of her royal lover, Henri II., is to be found (along with the crescent of the chaste G.o.ddess Diana) on many books exquisitely bound by Le Faucheux.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOOK-PLATE OF JEAN FRANcOIS-GILLET, 1778.]

The Marquise de Maintenon, widow of the deformed jester Scarron, who became the wife, if not the queen, of Louis XIV., was a woman of great tact and intelligence. She formed a valuable library; her books were handsomely bound, and stamped with her arms,--a lion rampant between two palm leaves.

The Marquise de Pompadour, whose books (princ.i.p.ally dedicated to the _menus plaisirs du Roi_, like their owner) were bound by Biziaux, Derome, or Padeloup, and decorated with her arms,--azure, three towers argent. Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson was born the daughter of a butcher in 1722, but was created the Marquise de Pompadour, and, what is more singular, a ”dame du palais _de la Reine_” by Louis XV. But she was beautiful exceedingly, and clever, and even Voltaire himself could not resist flattering her:

”Pompadour, ton crayon divin Devait dessiner ton visage, Jamais une plus belle main N'et fait un plus bel ouvrage.”

Was it her death from small-pox that suggested to Zola that awful closing chapter in ”Nana”?

A book-plate was engraved for her, anonymous, but having the above-named arms; it does not appear, however, to have been fixed in her books. La Pompadour died in 1764, and her books were sold in Paris in the following year.

”But where is the Pompadour now?

_This_ was the Pompadour's fan!”

Next comes the plate of Madame Jeanne-Gomart de Vaubernier, Comtesse Du Barry (born at Vaucouleurs in 1743), the last favourite of Louis XV., who, less fortunate than her rival, la Pompadour, survived her royal protector, nay, even royalty itself, and died on the scaffold in December, 1793. Ignorant as she was, she formed a small but valuable collection, her books being bound in red morocco, all richly gilt, and ornamented on the sides with her arms, and her motto, _Boutez en avant_.

Redan was one of her binders. Louis XV. remarked, ”La Pompadour had more books than the countess, but they were neither so well chosen nor so well bound, we therefore create her _Bibliothecaire de Versailles_.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOOK-PLATE OF d.u.c.h.e, 1779.]

Poor Du Barry! She could scarcely read, and could not spell; her books were selected to dispel the _ennui_ and divert the mind of the debauched old king in the last few years of his shameful life. Yet is she worthy of mention here, if for one thing only, she possessed a book-plate engraved by Le Grand, of which, however, she made but little use.

But Louis le Bien-aime died of small-pox in 1774, and henceforward the Du Barry fades from sight for nearly twenty years, until we see her once again, on the way to the guillotine, where, unlike most of the aristocrats who preceded her, she lost courage, and vainly shrieked for mercy from those who knew not what it was.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOOK-PLATE OF THE COMTESSE DU BARRY.]

”Unclean, yet unmalignant, not unpitiable thing! What a course was thine: from that first truckle-bed where thy mother bore thee, with tears, to an unnamed father: forward, through lowest subterranean depths, and over highest sunlit heights, of Harlotdom and Rascaldom--to the guillotine-axe, which shears away thy vainly whimpering head!” Thus does Carlyle epitomize her career.

Louis XV. was known as _le Bien-aime_, but years before his death his name had lost all the influence it had ever possessed, and

”Le Bien-aime de l'Almanac, N'est pas le Bien-aime de France, Il fait tout _ab hoc_, et _ab hac_, Le Bien-aime de l'Almanac.

Il met tout dans le meme sac, Et la Justice et la Finance: Le Bien-aime de l'Almanac, N'est pas le Bien-aime de France.”

It was computed that during his reign 150,000 men had been imprisoned in the Bastille, whose crimes, real or imaginary, had never been investigated in any court of justice.

They were torn without warning from liberty and friends to languish for years in dark loathsome dungeons, without even knowing of what offences they were accused, nor for what period they would be imprisoned.

A simple _Lettre de Cachet_ was all that was required, which it was by no means difficult for a king's mistress, minister, or favourite to obtain.

LETTRE DE CACHET.