Charles, Madame d'Aiguillon. This lady gave a supper every Saturday
night, where neither her husband, the lover of the Princesse de
Conti, nor her son, later the successor of Choiseul as Minister of
Louis XV., was expected to appear. 'The most brilliant men, French
or foreign, were her guests, attracted by her abundant, active,
impetuous, and original intellect, by her elevated conversation, and
her kindness of manner.' {86} She was, according to Gustavus III.,
'the living gazette of the Court, the town, the provinces, and the
academy.' Voltaire wrote to her rhymed epistles. Says Madame du
Deffand, 'Her mouth is fallen in, her nose crooked, her glance wild
and bold, and in spite of all this she is beautiful. The brilliance
of her complexion atones for the irregularity of her features. Her
waist is thick, her bust and arms are enormous. yet she has not a
heavy air: her energy gives her ease of movement. Her wit is like
her face, brilliant and out of drawing. Profusion, activity,
impetuosity are her ruling qualities . . . She is like a play which
is all SPECTACLE, all machines and decorations, applauded by the pit
and hissed by the boxes. . . . '

Montesquieu was hardly a spectator in the pit, yet he habitually
lived at Madame d'Aiguillon's; 'she is original,' he said, and she,
with Madame Dupre de Saint-Maur, watched by the death-bed of the
philosopher. {87}

In unravelling the hidden allusions of Charles's correspondence, I at
first recognised Madame d'Aiguillon in Charles's friend 'La
Grandemain.' The name seemed a suitable sobriquet, for a lady with
gros bras, like Madame d'Aiguillon, might have large hands. The
friendship of 'La Grandemain' with the philosophe, Montesquieu, also
pointed to Madame d'Aiguillon. But Charles, at a later date, makes a