A New Husband for the Princesse de Lamballe?

When Marie Thérèse Louise of Savoy was brought to France in 1767, she was married to Louis-Alexandre de Bourbon-Penthièvre. As such, she assumed the title of Princesse de Lamballe and became a Princess of the Blood (by marriage). On paper, the match was certainly good - her new status put her at the zenith of the French aristocracy and her father-in-law was one of the wealthiest men in France.

However, not everything was too good to be true. Louis-Alexandre was an incorrigible debauchee whose wild existence caused endless scandal at court. He was initially fascinated by his new wife but before long he resumed his old ways. Louis-Alexandre had contracted a venereal disease - likely syphilis - which killed him on 6 May 1768 - a year after his marriage.

This left Marie Thérèse Louise as a young widow - she was just nineteen years old. Luckily, she does not seem to have been infected by her husband during their brief marriage nor did she have children by him. 

The question soon arose - would she remarry? She was certainly in a good position to do so but the situation was not nearly as straightforward as that. For one, she held an immensely privileged position at court and enjoyed a very good relationship with her father-in-law. The latter had seen her as a potential good influence for his wayward son and continued to hold her in high esteem after the death of Louis-Alexandre. Financially and status-wise she was therefore secure.

It should also be remembered that her experience with marriage (albeit brief) was not particularly pleasant. Just five months into her marriage her husband had attempted to elope with a mistress which naturally caused her immense public humiliation. Furthermore, his deteriorating condition meant that she was at constant risk of catching his venereal disease herself. She might not have been particularly willing to enter into another union anytime soon.

Marie Thérèse Louise

Yet the wishes of a princess rarely counts and before long several matches were proposed. The most glittering match has already been covered in another post and shall just briefly be mentioned: Louis XV. It was put forward that the aging Louis XV should marry the teenaged Princesse de Lamballe after the death of queen Marie Leszczynska. It was hoped by his family - especially Mesdames - that her pious and caring nature would lead their father away from his mistress. Technically, Marie Thérèse Louise would have been an ideal candidate as she was easily used as a pawn. She lacked intelligence and possessed no passion for intrigue - Marie Antoinette referred to it as her lacking the "Italian spirit", as Marie Thérèse Louise was part Italian and part German. Thus, she would have been very easy to manipulate by others. Yet Marie Thérèse Louise herself never advocated for the match and when her father-in-law outright refused to give his consent, she did not protest. Neither did the king and the marriage plans evaporated.

Marrying the king of France was a tad too grand a match but there were other candidates for the beautiful Marie Thérèse Louise. One was the Prince de Lambesc who was proposed as a candidate in 1771. Charles-Eugène de Lorraine-Brionne was a member of the house of Lorraine and of Guise and a dedicated soldier.  He was twenty years old in 1771 and - unlike Louis-Alexandre - did not have a tarnished reputation. The union was suggested by Charles-Eugène's own mother, the Comtesse de Brionne.

The match would have required Marie Thérèse Louise to take a step down the hierarchical ladder of Versailles. As it happens, it proved one of the first delicate tests of another young foreigner at court: Marie Antoinette. She had recently made the acquaintance of Lamballe and had quickly become firm friends with her. As such, the new dauphine could easily have put her weight behind the match but it would have been a precarious position.

Prince de Lambesc

This was one of those situations were the intricate and complicated relations of the French court came to the fore. Marie Antoinette herself was descended from the house of Lorraine so some might expect her to support the match. Yet, the Comtesse de Brionne had spearheaded recent attempts on behalf of the Lorraine-family to advance themselves at court - against protocol. Thus, if the new dauphine actively supported her Lorraine "relatives" she would likely have walked straight into a hornets nest and incurred the wrath of the collective princes of the blood. Wisely, the Austrian ambassador counseled his young charge to simply defer the matter to the king himself. Marie Antoinette agreed and the match was consequently brought before Louis XV.

Luckily for Louis XV - who hated squabbles of the kind - the prospect of potentially being publicly rejected by none other than the king himself was too much of a risk. The Comtesse de Brionne dropped the matter and Marie Thérèse Louise remained unwed. As for Charles-Eugène, he would marry twice but only after the revolution.

It has been suggested that her father-in-law actively opposed her remarrying at all. If that is true then it is a testament to how much she had endeared herself to the Duc de Penthièvre. It certainly was not a financially sensible solution of him to make. According to her marriage contract, in the case of the death of her husband (as happened) she was the financial responsibility of her father-in-law. He had to pay for her upkeep, her allowance, her staff - everything. In return, her family surrendered her person but they were relieved of the expenses of keeping her. That arrangement would cease if she remarried. Such cold and calculated measures (after all, she was a person, not a pet) were quite common in these cases but it would certainly give her father-in-law an incentive to get her off his hands. It therefore suggests that their relationship was genuinely good.

The Prince de Lamballe - her first
and only husband

Marie Thérèse Louise would never remarry. Undoubtedly, she continued to be the object of several projects but she quickly found that her position at court was quite enjoyable. She enjoyed both immense wealth, a high rank and independence. Nor did she have to contend with an unpleasant husband such as her first husband had proven to be. Whether she actually wished to remarry is uncertain - she has not left any clues behind. Or has she?

One thing is written clues or contemporaries accounts, but Marie Thérèse Louise's own actions surely speak for themselves. It is a clue in it self that she herself never advanced any candidate for her second husband and remained either outright passive or quietly opposed to the new marriage proposals mentioned above. After the ascension of Marie Antoinette to the throne of France, Marie Thérèse Louise would have excellent opportunities to marry a man of her own choice - especially as the queen was known for denying her friends nothing. It might simply be the truth that she never wished to remarry at all. 

She also had another option: returning to Savoy. As the childless widow of a prince, she could have returned to her homeland - an option that was out of the question for most princesses who never saw their homes again. Yet, she did not. She seems to have carved an existence for herself at the court of France that she came to enjoy and appreciate. That was further augmented when the position of Surintendante of the Queen's Household was reinstated for her sake. It placed her at the pinnacle of the royal households and ensured her actual influence at court, her own income and esteem amongst both French and foreign courtiers. Furthermore, her reputation was stellar - Marie Antoinette herself described her as "pure" and that sentiment was shared by many. It was certainly heightened by the fact that she never took a lover either. Consequently, she came to enjoy an excellent reputation as well. It is therefore easy to ask - why would one give that up?

Pepper: The Sun King's Lasting Addition to the Dinner Table

The timeless classic of setting a table with both salt and pepper originated with none other than Louis XIV. Salt had always been somewhat easily accessible - to all classes of society - but pepper was far more exotic and therefore more expensive. Thus, it quickly became a status symbol - but how did the Sun King and his court treat the now so commonplace spice?

French cuisine was already ahead of the curve and the royal cooks had every chance to experiment with new recipes. However, Louis XIV preferred to have his food only slightly seasoned which is where the combination of salt and pepper came in. Salt compliments most (if not all) dishes and was therefore already a stable for most. Pepper, with its subtle but delicious taste, quickly became a favourite of the French king. And so it spread - as it happens, it is thanks to Louis XIV that salt and pepper are now the most commonplace pairing on any dinner table. 

As for Louis XIV, the combination remained on his table until his death. By 1709, he was still recorded as being particularly fond of seasoning his dishes - including salads - with certain herbs and salt and pepper. They remained at Versailles, too, where a page of Louis XVI would later describe how the king and queen's salt and pepper were served on silver-gilt trays. 

Louis XIV

Pepper was expensive. It had to be imported from Asia but fortunately - for the majority of Europe - it was one of the few spices that the Dutch did not have a monopoly on importing. This could have had an impact on how widespread the use of pepper became as more countries could import - the French themselves certainly did as did the Dutch (naturally), the Danish, many of the German States, the English, the Swedish etc. It certainly had an influence on the price which fell continually throughout Louis XIV's reign. 

Besides the delicious food combinations, pepper was also believed to have certain medicinal properties. By the 17th century, the king's own pharmacist recommended rubbing pepper oil on the perineum to assist a gentleman who might need help in the bedroom. One can only wonder if the king ever tried that...

A Taste for Tea: An Expensive Import

Whereas chocolate and coffee would become symbols of sensuality and the exotic, tea had a slightly different entry into the court of France. Allegedly introduced by Cardinal Mazarin, it was imported for its medicinal properties. The cardinal himself used tea to ease his gout which it was said to be an efficient remedy against.

Louis XIV would later replicate Cardinal Mazarin's cure by also consuming tea for his own gout and vertigo as early as 1665. The king would have herbal tea for breakfast, occasionally substituting it for broth.  By this point, tea had taken a hold of French high-society. If Madame de Sévigné is to be believed, several of the aristocrats at court were quite taken by it. She wrote in 1684 that the Princesse de Tarente enjoyed twelve cups per day whereas Monsieur le Landgrave allegedly drank 40 cups; the latter was dying and seemed to be revived somewhat by the drink. It would seem that the French even suggested adding milk to tea at this early stage.

As with most imported goods, tea was typically preserved for the upper classes and was closely associated with polite society. Louis XIV had been gifted a splendid teapot of gold from the Siamese ambassador in which his tea was brewed. Not everyone was equally impressed. Madame - Elizabeth Charlotte of the Palatinate - was vehemently against the fad of tea. She considered "good for nothing but to fill one's bladder" and thus stuck with mulled wine instead.

A French lady with her tea

Whereas some praised the medicinal properties of tea, others warned against excessive use. The Marèchale de Mirepoix had acquired an odd twitch from drinking tea daily while the Duc de Lévis proclaimed that while both tea and coffee were "slow poisons" but that tea would kill you much faster. He referred to an experiment (true or not is unclear) in which two prisoners sentenced to death were experimented on by providing them with daily cups of tea or coffee respectively. According to Lévis, the tea drinker died at 27 while the other passed his 80th birthday, thus concluding the terrible side effects of tea. 

Still, it did not prevent Louis XIV from importing an increasing amount of tea from Thailand, Persia and China. The exotic product could cost a fortune; according to Jacques Levon one pound of Chinese tea cost as much as 70 gold francs whereas Japanese tea was twice as expensive. 

Louis XV seems to have preferred coffee and hot chocolate - which he brewed himself - but presented Marie Leszczynska with an elaborate tea set upon the birth of the dauphin in 1729. Conveniently, the set could also be used for both coffee and hot chocolate. The fascination with the Far East also helped promote the fashionable about tea; Marie Leszczynska's own father was adamant about the benefits of tea. He might have been less pleased when Augustus II (the man who had supplanted him on the throne of Poland) sent the French queen a lavish tea set in 1737.

Tea had a resurgence during Louis XVI when anglomania became fashionable. Marie Antoinette is said to have particularly enjoyed a rose-and-apple blend which was initially made for her in 1776 - it is still served by Nina Diaz today. 

By this point, the import of tea had skyrocketed - by 1785, France imported 400 times more tea than in the 1690's. Yet, it remained firmly a symbol of luxury and thus the upper classes even with the widespread emergence of tea salons in Paris. That particular association would prove disastrous for tea when the revolution came around - it would take years before tea was enjoyed on a large scale again.

Floral Favourites: The Perfumed Mistresses of Louis XV

During the 18th century, the court of Versailles was known as la cour parfumée - the perfumed court - and Madame de Pompadour certainly did her part for that reputation. 

The royal favourite's patronage of the porcelain factory at Sèvres ensured that her perfume burners were always exquisite. The factory delivered intricate burners which ensured that her apartment at Versailles always had a strong scent of perfume. Smaller bottles for individual use - or to transport with someone - also became popular. The burners could also be used without fire to display potpourri. 

It was not just her perfume burners that were exquisitely expensive. It was said that Madame de Pompadour spend about 100.000 livres per year on perfumes. Some sources have that number at 500.000 francs or even as high as 1.000.000 francs. Regardless of which number is accurate, it is apparent that she spent a fortune on her scents. 

Madame de Pompadour at her toilette

Her fascination with scents even transferred to France's diplomatic relations. Madame de Pompadour routinely gave visiting diplomats small vials of rose essence which the king himself occasionally distilled within the sanctuary of his laboratory. Madame de Pompadour herself experimented with customised scents including a scented vinegar around 1740.√

She had a hand in making the timeless eau de cologne popular; the scent had been invented by Farina but really received its heyday after the interference of the royal mistress. 

As for Madame de Pompadour's own favourites, lavender water is said to have been a continual favourite but so was jasmine and rose. If she was to live up to the trend of a different scent every day of the week, she could certainly afford to have a few different favourites. But one thing was being fond of individual ingredients, it was quite another to combine them. Amongst her preferred scents was called Oil of Venus and consisted of rose, sandalwood and iris. Another was eau de Portugal which had a citrus scent dominated by oranges. 

Besides actual perfumes, Madame de Pompadour followed the trend of adding perfume to just about everything. Her fans could be scented as could the gloves covering her fingers. Wigs, too, were a popular target for perfume and small satchets of perfume could be attached to clothing. Flowers themselves were valued as a decorative element that had the benefit of smelling nicely. Thus, both her estate of Choisy and the gardens of Trianon were abundant with sweet-smelling flowers. 

Even inside, an anecdote tells of a prank (an expensive one) that she played on Louis XV. Having invited him to her estate of Bellevue in the dead of winter. When the king arrived, she had arrayed her house in flowers - despite the time of year - which the king immediately stooped down to sniff. He then realised that the flowers were porcelain and the scent was perfume.

As for her successor, Madame du Barry, she did not hold back either. Her signature scents - plural, like Pompadour - indicates a different taste than her predecessor. Whereas Madame de Pompadour leant towards the florals, Madame du Barry's perfumes were heavier. One of her favourites contained iris root and amber while another was an intoxicating mix of bergamot, neroli, rosemary, lavender and grape spirit. However, she was also a fan of the eau de cologne which Madame de Pompadour had made so popular.

Madame du Barry also made use of the satchets used by Pompadour. She was said - allegedly - to have used them to seduce the king as the scents she hid under her gowns were said to be aphrodisiacs. To be honest, that sounds rather more like the almost inevitable rumour spread about a royal mistress but does show that satchets for personal use were still in fashion.

Madame du Barry

To the annoyance of the royal family, du Barry was given free access to the royal perfumer, Fargeon, which spurred her interests. It certainly added to her expenses as she ordered 1400 livres to be transferred to Fargeon in 1776 - two years after Louis XV's death.

In fact, Madame du Barry's taste for perfumes long outlived her stay at Versailles. At the time of her death by guillotine, she owed her perfumer 2.275 livres - quite a large sum.

Charles Juste de Beauvau, Prince de Craon

Charles Juste de Beauvau was born in the capital of Lorraine, Luneville, on 10 September 1720, into the second-most powerful family in the region. His parents were a remarkably fertile couple - having 20 children, Charles Juste was the thirteenth. 

Little is recorded of his upbringing which was largely undertaken by a governess before he would be handed over to a male governor. It was not until a marriage had been arranged that his name reentered the courtly annals. His family had found a suitable bride for the then 25-year old Charles Juste. The choice was Marie Charlotte de La Tour d'Auvergne who gave birth to their only child after five years of marriage. Their daughter - Anne-Louise-Marie - was born on 1 April 1750. 

Marie Charlotte died at just 33 years old in 1763 which left Charles free to remarry. He did - a year later - to Marie Charlotte Sylvie de Rohan-Chabot. The couple had no children so Charles' only heir was Anne-Louise-Marie who married into the Noailles-family. It seems that he and his second wife lived almost entirely separate lives as she rarely ever features in the mentions of him in contemporary literature. She would eventually survive him by eleven years.

Charles Juste

Throughout his career at court, Charles Juste continuously rose. He inherited his father's princedom in 1754 when he became the Prince de Craon. At this point, he was already an experienced soldier who had achieved the rank of field marshal in 1748. He certainly earned his spurs; having begun his French military career in 1738, he served in Spain and the Czech Republic where he seemingly tirelessly worked on behalf of the king. Luckily for him, when he volunteered for the French army, he had already been made a colonel of the Duke of Lorraine's regiment - who was conveniently his mother's lover.

As a reward for his loyal service, the king showered him with favours. Charles Juste was made Grandee of Spain as well as governor of both Provence and Languedoc before also obtaining the knighthood of the Saint-Esprit. His governorship of particularly Provence was very positive. He facilitated a resurgence of trade and navigation as well as cultivating commerce within the region. 

Despite primarily distinguishing himself as a soldier, he had an intellectual side, too. Hosting a fashionable salon where he received poets, philosophers, politicians and authors. Charles Juste himself often dealt with the Académie Française where he obtained a seat in 1771. 

Amongst other qualities, Charles Juste appears to have been quite tolerant when it came to religion. The story goes that he was touring a prison (as one does, apparently) when he came upon a group of people who had been arrested solely for being protestants. He immediately ordered them released and (allegedly) exclaimed that both justice and humanity spoke for the unfortunates who had been thus imprisoned; he consequently declared that he would have no more arrests for such a "crime". Naturally, not everyone was pleased at this and he was threatened that the king would surely be told so he had better order the re-incarceration of the prisoners upon threat of losing his command. He is said to have responded that the "king was master and could justly deprive him of the command he had entrusted to him but that he could not prevent him from doing his duty by his conscience and honour". 

Luckily for Charles Juste, the threat of tattling to the king would likely not have worked regardless. Louis XV later expressed that he had nothing but respect and admiration for his loyal Prince de Craon.

By 1783, Charles Juste had turned 53 and was made maréchal de France. On the eve of the revolution, he was made Secretary of State for War but only served for six months. Politically, Charles Juste appears to have been in favour of reform but does not seem to have been radical in any way. On the contrary, he remained a royalist and firmly supported Louis XVI whom he only survived by a few months. Louis XVI himself had had an immense faith in Charles Juste. The ill-fated king had brought Charles Juste with him to Paris immediately prior to the revolution as the king knew that Charles Juste was immensely popular with the people. Louis XVI fully recognised not just the popularity of his secretary but also that it was very well deserved. Sadly, the presence of Charles Juste did not ultimately save the king.

The upheaval of the revolution never managed to get the better of him - likely due to his popularity - as Charles Juste managed quite a feat: he died peacefully on 21 May 1793.