Like the kings of France, the greatest French philosophers also had mistresses. However, unlike the mistresses of kings, such as Madame de Pompadour or Madame de Montespan, who entered the pages of history, most of the philosophers' mistresses remained unknown. Today I would like to talk about the exception, the mistress of the greatest French philosopher of the 18th century, who entered the pages of history not only because of him, but because of her unique personality and sharp intellect.
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So who was the Marquise de Châtelet?
Her name was Gabrielle Émilie Le Tonnelier de Breteuil (1706-1749). She was born into the family of the Barons de Breteuil, who owned their castle I wrote before, and from childhood she was known for her sharp intellect. By the age of 12 she already knew Latin and Italian, could play the harpsichord, and could sing. At the age of 15 she began translating the Roman poet Virgil's Aeneid into French (in rhyme).
A little later, she decided that all this was not enough for her and added English to the list of languages she mastered and began studying mathematics with Maupertuis (1698-1759), who was considered one of the greatest philosophers of her time and later became famous as Voltaire's rival. And finally, how can we not mention the important mass she wrote on happiness, the translation of which can be found inNahar Books Publishing.
At the age of 19 she married the Marquis du Châtelet, who was 11 years her senior, and from then on she became known as the Marquise du Châtelet. The couple had three children, but conveniently her husband, an officer in the king's army, spent most of his time in the army, leaving her with enough time to take a number of lovers. The most famous of these was the Duc de Richelieu (1696–1788), who was undoubtedly the greatest lover in 18th-century France and a great rival to Casanova.
The Romance with Walter
In 1733, Amélie met the man with whom she would forever be associated, the famous French philosopher François-Marie Arouet, known as Voltaire (1694-1778). The two met at dinner and found themselves talking about Latin poetry, mathematics and astronomy. The Marquise’s “Geek Chic” was so strong that Voltaire fell in love with her instantly, even though, according to Madame du Deffand (1697-1780), she had “a tiny head, a flat chest, enormous hands, a pointed nose and skin like a grater.”
The Marquise and Voltaire became one of the most glamorous couples of the 18th century, and when not in bed, they studied mathematics and Newtonian physics together. “God, how delightful it is to be in your arms, what a happiness it is to be able to be with the one I love,” Voltaire wrote to his love in 1734. That same year, they moved to the Château de Cirey, in the northeast of France. FranceIn this isolated castle, they both studied science together, and Voltaire devoted quite a bit of time to writing some of his books.
During this period, the lovers were joined by the Marquise's husband, but he took care not to disturb them too much, living in a separate apartment and eating at separate times. All of France was shocked, not that the Marquise was willing to live with his wife's lover under the same roof, but by the fact that the lovers had remained faithful to each other for so long.
The idyll between Voltaire and the Marquise lasted until 1747. Voltaire, who was 53 years old and quite a hypochondriac, stopped gratifying his love sexually out of fear for his health. In that year the Marquise met Captain Jean Francois de Saint Lambert (1716-1803), who was ten years her junior, and their romance began to blossom.
In October of that year, Voltaire caught them in a somewhat awkward situation and, after some discussion, challenged Saint-Lambert to a duel to take place at dawn. Madame du Châtelet, terrified by the possibility that one of her lovers would kill the other, came to Voltaire at two in the morning and declared her undying love for him.
However, on that occasion she reminded him that he himself had told her that his strength was leaving him and therefore he had no reason to be offended by his friend helping him with the same task, which could endanger his life. Voltaire accepted this philosophical argument. The next day the two lovers reconciled. Voltaire told Saint-Lambert, “I have forgotten everything that happened. I was wrong to be jealous of you. You are at an age when love and passion can be enjoyed. Enjoy them while you can because time passes so quickly…”.
The bitter end of the love triangle
And so began a love triangle between the Marquise, Voltaire, and Saint-Lambert, and the three of them moved between Paris, Sirais, and the castle of Luneville in the Rhine, where they stayed with the Duke. Lorraine, the father of the Queen of France, Stanislas Leszczynski (1677-1766). It was at this castle that the Marquise discovered that she was pregnant by Saint-Lambert. In order to conceal the identity of the father, the Marquise, Walter, and Saint-Lambert traveled to the Château de Siray and invited Amelie's husband to join them.
The Marquis did not care much about the romantic triangle that was brewing between his wife and her two lovers and happily played the role assigned to him. After dinner, the husband happily climbed onto the Marquise’s lap, thus granting a sort of “certificate of approval” to the baby that would be born (Voltaire, as always witty, argued that the child should be categorized in the “Miscellaneous” volume of Madame du Châtelet’s list of works).
However, the love triangle that had been formed in 1747 ended tragically in September 1749. That month, the Marquise gave birth to a baby girl, who died shortly after. At 43 years old, and because the birth had not been easy, her body could not withstand it and six days later she died of a stroke at Adam du Châtelet. Voltaire, overwhelmed with grief, left the Marquise's room and collapsed.
It was Saint-Lambert who managed to reassure him a little. Voltaire turned to him reproachfully and said, “You are the one who killed her. What was going through your mind when you decided to get her pregnant?” Voltaire asked for the Marquise’s ring as a souvenir, which contained his portrait, but when he received it, he discovered that it contained Saint-Lambert’s portrait. Voltaire said to this, “That’s how women are! I took the Duc de Richelieu out of the ring and now Saint-Lambert has taken me out. That’s how the world works…”.
Fascinating. I purchased the Marquise's book from Nehar Publishing and I'm about to read it...
By the way, I recently joined a few Facebook groups about Paris (despite my reluctance to join the group), after an employee (transportation) asked me to recommend him there. Well, I was happy to take the opportunity and recommend you too.
Don't you fancy Paris in January :-)? We'll be there between the 14th and the 21st
Have a good Shabbat.
Orit Shtiver
Hi Orit. Thank you very much for the support 🙂
Unfortunately, I won't be in Paris in January (probably the next time will be around Passover).
Best regards,
deer