The Duke’s wife is not an ill-looking person: she has good eyes, and
would be very well if she had not a habit of stretching and poking out
her neck. Her shape is horrible; she is quite crooked; her back is
curved into the form of an S. I observed her one day, through curiosity,
when the Dauphine was helping her to dress.
She is a wicked devil; treacherous in every way, and of a very dangerous
temper. Upon the whole, she is not good for much. Her falsehood was the
means of preventing the Duke from marrying one of my granddaughters.
Being the intimate friend of Madame de Berri, who was very desirous that
one of her sisters should marry the Duke and the other the Prince de
Conti, she promised to bring about the marriage, provided Madame de Berri
would say nothing of it to the King or to me. After having imposed this
condition, she told the King that Madame de Berri and my son were
planning a marriage without his sanction; in order to punish them she
begged the King to marry the Duke to herself, which was actually done.
Thanks to her good sense, she lives upon tolerable terms with her
husband, although he has not much affection for her. They follow each
their own inclinations; they are not at all jealous of each other, and it
is said they have separate beds.
She causes a great many troubles and embarrassments to her relation, the
young Princesse de Conti, and perfectly understands tormenting folks.
The young Duchess died yesterday evening (22nd March, 1720). The Duke’s
joy at the death of his wife will be greatly diminished when he learns
that she has bequeathed to her sister, Mademoiselle de la Roche-sur-Yon,
all her property; and as the husband and wife lived according to the
custom of Paris, ‘en communaute’, the Duke will be obliged to refund the
half of all he gained by Law’s bank.
After the death of the younger Duchess, the Princesse de Conti, her
mother, wrote to a Chevalier named Du Challar, who was the lover of the
deceased, to beg him to come and see her, as he was the only object left
connected with her daughter, and assuring him that he might reckon upon
her services in everything that depended upon her. It was the younger
Duchess who was so fond of Lasse, and who had been so familiar with him
at a masked ball.
I recognized only two good qualities in her: her respect and affection
for her grandmother, the Princess, and the skill with which she concealed
her faults. Beside this, she was good for nothing, in whatever way her
character is regarded. That she was treacherous is quite certain; and
she shortened her life by her improper conduct. She neither loved nor
hated her husband, and they lived together more like brother and sister
than husband and wife.
The Elector of Bavaria, during his stay at Paris, instead of visiting his
nephews and nieces, passed all his time, by day and by night, with the
Duchess and her daughters. As to me, he fled me as he would fly the
plague, and never spoke to me but in the company of M. de Torcy. The
Duchess had three of the handsomest daughters in the world: the one
called Mademoiselle de Clermont is extremely beautiful; but I think her
sister, the Princesse de Conti, more amiable. The Duchess can drink very
copiously without being affected; her daughters would fain imitate her,
but they soon get tipsy, and cannot control themselves as their mother
can.