It cannot be denied that his whole appearance is extremely repulsive. He
is a horribly ill-made little man, and is always absent-minded, which
gives him a distracted air, as if he were really crazy. When it could be
the least expected, too, he will fall over his own walking-stick. The
folks in the palace were so much accustomed to this in the late King’s
time, that they used always to say, when they heard anything fall,
“It’s nothing; only the Prince de Conti tumbling down.”
He has sense, but he has been brought up like a scullion boy; he has
strange whimsies, of which he is quite aware himself, but which he cannot
control. His wife is a charming woman, and is much to be pitied for
being in fear of her life from this madman, who often threatens her with
loaded pistols. Fortunately, she has plenty of courage and does not fear
him. Notwithstanding this, he is very fond of her; and this is the more
surprising, because his love for the sex is not very strong; and although
he visits improper places occasionally, it is only for the purpose of
tormenting the poor wretches who are to be found there. Before he was
married he felt no, affection for any woman but his mother, who also
loved him very tenderly. She is now vexed at having no longer the same
ascendency over her son, and is jealous of her daughter-in-law because
the Prince loves her alone. This occasions frequent disturbances in the
house. The mother has had a house: built at some distance from her son.
When they are good friends, she dismisses the workmen; but when they
quarrel, she doubles the number and hastens the work, so that one may
always tell, upon a mere inspection of the building, upon what terms the
Princesse de Conti and her son are living. The mother wished to have her
grandson to educate; her daughter-in-law opposed it because she preferred
taking care of him herself; and then ensued a dog-and-cat quarrel. The
wife, who is cunning enough, governs her husband entirely, and has gained
over his favourites to be her creatures. She is the idol of the-whole
house.
In order to prevent the Prince de Conti from going to Hungary, the
government of Poitou has been bought for him, and a place in the Council
of the Regency allotted to him; by this means they have retained the wild
beast.
Our young Princess says her husband has a rheum in his eyes.
To amuse her, he reads aloud Ovid in the original; and although she does
not understand one word of Latin, she is obliged to listen and to remain
silent, even though any one should come in; for if anybody interrupts him
he is angry, and scolds all who are in the apartment.
At the last masked ball (4th March, 1718) some one who had dressed
himself like the Prince de Conti, and wore a hump on his back, went and
sat beside him. “Who are you, mask?” asked the Prince.
The other replied, “I am the Prince de Conti.”
Without the least ill-temper, the Prince took off his mask, and,
laughing, said, “See how a man may be deceived. I have been fancying for
the last twenty years that I was the Prince de Conti.” To keep one’s
temper on such an occasion is really an uncommon thing.
The Prince thought himself quite cured, but he has had a relapse in
Spain, and, although he is a general of cavalry, he cannot mount his
horse. I said on Tuesday last (17th July, 1719) to the young Princesse
de Conti that I heard her husband was not entirely recovered. She
laughed and whispered to me,--
“Oh, yes, he is quite well; but he pretends not to be so that he may
avoid going to the siege, where he may be killed, for he is as cowardly
as an ape.” I think if I had as little inclination for war as he has, I
would not engage in the campaign at all; there is nothing to oblige him
to do so-it is to reap glory, not to encounter shame, that men go into
the army. His best friends, Lanoue and Cleremont, for example, have
remonstrated with him on this subject, and he has quarrelled with them in
consequence. It is an unfortunate thing for a man not to know himself.
The Prince is terribly afflicted with a dysentery. They wanted to carry
him to Bayonne, but he has so violent a fever that he would not be able
to support the journey. He is therefore obliged to stay with the army
(25th August, 1719).
He has been back nine or ten days, but I have heard nothing of him yet;
he is constantly engaged in the Rue de Quincampoix, trying to gain money
among the stock-jobbers (19th September, 1719).
At length he has been to see me. Perhaps there was this morning less
stock-jobbing than usual in the Rue de Quincampoix, for there he has been
ever since his return. His cousin, the Duke, is engaged in the same
pursuit. The Prince de Conti has not brought back much honour from the
campaign; he is too much addicted to debauchery of all kinds.
Although he can be polite when he chooses, no one can behave more
brutally than he does occasionally, and he becomes more and more mad
daily.
At one of the last opera balls he seized a poor little girl just come
from the country, took her from her mother’s side, and, placing her
between his own legs, amused himself by slapping and filliping her until
he made her nose and mouth bleed. The young girl, who had done nothing
to offend him, and who did not even know him, wept bitterly; but he only
laughed, and said, “Cannot I give nice fillips?” All who were witnesses
of this brutal scene pitied her; but no one dared come to the poor
child’s assistance, for they were afraid of having anything to do with
this violent madman. He makes the most frightful grimaces, and I, who am
extremely frightened at crazy people, tremble whenever I happen to be
alone with him.
His wicked pranks remind me of my own. When I was a child I used to take
touchwood, and, placing pieces of it over my eyes and in my mouth, I hid
myself upon the staircase for the purpose of terrifying the people; but I
was then much afraid of ghosts, so that I was always the first to be
frightened. It is in the same way that the Prince de Conti does; he
wishes to make himself feared, and he is the most timid person in the
world.
The Duke and his mother, as well as Lasse, the friend of the latter, have
gained several millions. The Prince has gained less, and yet his
winnings, they say, amount to millions.
[He had four wagons loaded with silver carried from Law’s bank, in
exchange for his paper money; and this it was that accelerated Law’s
disgrace, and created a kind of popularity for the Prince de Conti.]
The two cousins do not stir from the Rue de Quincampoix, which has given
rise to the following epigram:
Prince dites nous vos exploits
Que faites vous pour votre gloire?
Taisez-vous sots!--Lisez l’histoire
De la rue de Quincampoix.
But the person who had gained most by this affair is Dantin, who is
horridly avaricious.
The Princesse de Conti told me that she had had her son examined in his
infancy by Clement, for the purpose of ascertaining whether he was in
every respect well made; and that he, having found the child perfectly
well made, went to the Prince de Conti, and said to him: “Monseigneur, I
have examined the shape of the young Prince who is just born: he is at
all points well formed, let him sleep without a bolster that he may
remain so; and only imagine what grief it would occasion to the Princesse
de Conti, who has brought him into the world straight, if you should make
him crooked.”
The Prince de Conti wished to speak of something else, but Clement still
returned to the same topic, saying, “Remember, Monseigneur, he is
straight as a wand, and do not make him crooked and hunchbacked.”
The Prince de Conti, not being able to endure this, ran away.