Raised on the edge of King Louis XIV’s court, D’Aubigny fought duels, wooed lovers, and broke the law. She seduced a noblewoman in the middle of a royal ball and dug up a dead nun to pull off a con.D’Aubigny never turned down a challenge – or an opportunity to add to her list of conquests. And although her legend has doubtlessly been embellished over the years, she remains a one-of-a-kind 17th-century revolutionary.
Who Was Julie D’Aubigny?
Born around Paris in the early 1670s, Julie D’Aubigny had an unusual childhood. Raised by her father, a master swordsman, young D’Aubigny learned to gamble and fight instead of studying more traditionally feminine pursuits. D’Aubigny’s father worked for King Louis XIV’s Master of Horse, the Count d’Armagnac. So, she spent her days with the king’s pages. Royal tutors instructed Julie and the pages in literature and grammar.
Outside of class, D’Aubigny practiced fencing. Master swordsmen trained the young girl. And at 12, d’Aubigny could best any of the boys in a swordfight.
The Fencing Girl
It wasn’t long before D’Aubigny caught the attention of the Count d’Armagnac. When she was still a teenager, she became the count’s mistress.
La Maupin, The Sword-Fighting Singer
Parisian police chased after Julie D’Aubigny and her lover, the master swordsman Séranne. But no one knew her name – or her scandalous past – in the south of France.
D’Aubigny and her lover transformed themselves into traveling performers. Across the countryside, they held fencing demonstrations. D’Aubigny often dressed in men’s clothes, her golden curls the only clue to her gender. And sometimes the pair added singing to their performances.
With a natural talent for music, D’Aubigny found herself offered a role at the Opera de Marseille. Opera became her passion – and she performed under the stage name La Maupin.
But leaving Paris did not mean leaving scandal behind. In the south of France, D’Aubigny fell in love with a young woman named Cécilia Bortigali. Scandalized, the Bortigali family sent Cécilia to a convent.
That didn’t stop D’Aubigny. She simply joined the convent and continued her affair with Cécilia. When convent life grew dull, the lovers placed a corpse in Cécilia’s bed and lit the room on fire.
It goes on like this…she lived only into her mid-30s, but she packed a lot of adventure into her life… RESIST!
Is this history and a story worth preserving? Passing on from generation to generation?
In this day of the AI lie, you bet! AI might generate perfection. But only human beings can generate humanity. Perfection isn't inspirational. It is cold, heartless, and dead. The D’Aubigny story is anything but! You can look away from a painting, but you can't listen away from a symphony
Well said!
Posted by greenman on February 6, 2026, 2:46 pm, in reply to "Thank you!" Valued Poster
Had you heard of her in connection with opera? I feel that, as she was a contralto, I’d like to have heard her.
Plus, she seems to have been a rather, er, excitable performer.
I wouldn’t have let her anywhere near a real sword, that’s for sure.. RESIST!
..she lost a loved one, a noblewoman she had spent a couple years with, then retired (ironically?) to a convent, where she died a couple years later. Illness, broken heart? I don’t know. RESIST!
Thanks!
Posted by Sia on February 4, 2026, 4:32 pm, in reply to "As I understand " ADMIN
on February 4, 2026, 1:43 pm
