Part 11 (2/2)

A curious figure was this descendant of the Great Conde; ”_moitie plumet, moitie rabat_,” monk by profession and soldier by choice; ”owing two million livres in Paris and changing his mistress every day”; now regulating the affairs of one of his abbeys, now scandalising the devout by some _liaison_ with Opera girl or courtesan, anon distinguis.h.i.+ng himself in battle; witty, affable, generous, brave, magnificent in his pleasures, and a lover and patron of literature; the only prince of his house then living in whom could be traced a resemblance to their ill.u.s.trious ancestor.

Mlle. de Camargo had by this time acquired the reputation of being a somewhat expensive luxury, even for a prince. Accordingly, before ”taking her into his service,” the count-abbe desired to rid himself of two other ladies, both of whom had claims upon his attention and his purse. One was the d.u.c.h.esse de Bouillon, poor Adrienne Lecouvreur's enemy; the other, a siren of humble birth, named Quoniam, with whom he had carried on an intermittent _liaison_ since he was sixteen. On the principle that exchange is no robbery, it was arranged that the d.u.c.h.ess and the Marquis de Sourdis should console each other; while Clermont experienced but little difficulty in persuading his nephew, the Prince de Conti, a promising young gentleman of seventeen, to take Mlle.

Quoniam off his hands. The latter arrangement led to much unpleasantness in high circles, for the Prince de Conti had two years before taken unto himself a wife, in the person of Mlle. de Chartres, daughter of the late Regent and sister of the devout Duc d'Orleans. The duke and his mother, the dowager-d.u.c.h.ess, were furious, and it was rumoured that they had obtained a _lettre de cachet_, in virtue of which Mlle. Quoniam had been spirited away to a convent. ”This news,” writes Barbier in his _Journal_, ”was general in the fas.h.i.+onable world; however, it is not true. On Sunday, August 5, Mlle. Quoniam went to the Opera and took a seat in a box. So soon as the young men in the pit caught sight of her, they clapped their hands to show how delighted the public were to find that the rumour was unfounded. In the evening, she went to the Tuileries. All the princesses of the House of Conde were there, which caused the people to form themselves into two lines as they pa.s.sed by.

They did the same for Mlle. Quoniam, and congratulated her by their gestures.”[110]

With the Comte de Clermont, Mlle. de Camargo reached the highest point of her fortunes. Her lover could refuse her nothing. When his monastic revenues proved inadequate to satisfy her caprices, he ran into debt, and when his credit was exhausted, he had recourse to stratagems to obtain money from his mother. The d.u.c.h.esse de Bourbon, having promised to settle the claims of some of his most clamorous creditors, the count instructed his steward, Moncrif, the Academician, to make out a statement showing a total liability of 80,000 livres, whereas the debts in question did not amount to much more than half that sum. The balance he was to remit to Mlle. de Camargo with his Highness's compliments.

Moncrif, however, fearing the consequences to himself should the d.u.c.h.ess ever discover the trick which had been played her, revealed the plot to the old lady, and so the ballerina never got the money. As for the steward, he was promptly dismissed ”for having abused his master's confidence.”

Such was the count's infatuation for his enchantress that he was ”even jealous of the pleasure which the public shared with him in seeing her dance,” and, in 1736, insisted on her quitting the Opera, to the despair of all Paris. If we are to credit a report drawn up many years later by the Police-Inspector Meusnier, for the edification of Madame de Pompadour, ”his pa.s.sion tyrannised even over the quarter where she resided, so that the neighbours did not dare to show themselves at their windows or to glance in the direction of the Camargo's house.”[111]

In July 1737, the abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Pres, with an annual revenue of 160,000 livres, became vacant, by the death of old Cardinal de Bissy. The Comte de Clermont had long had a covetous eye upon this rich prize, and a substantial addition to his income was imperatively needed, as Mlle. de Camargo's extravagance had reduced him to such straits that, in the previous December, he had been forced to sell his duchy of Chateauroux to Louis XV., who, some years later, conferred it on his mistress, Madame de la Tournelle. Deeming, however, that, under the circ.u.mstances, some concession to public opinion might be advisable, he counterfeited a fit of devotion, separated from his mistress, who, on a sudden, disappeared from Paris, and caused a report to be circulated that she had been imprisoned by order of the King in Sainte-Pelagie. No sooner, however, had the coveted abbey been conferred upon him, than Mdlle. de Camargo reappeared upon the scene, and went to do the honours of the Chateau de Berny, a charming country-house situated two leagues from Paris, on the road to Orleans, which had been acquired by the monks of Saint-Germain-des-Pres in 1686, with the price of the lands which they had ceded to Louis XIV. for the enlargement of the park of Versailles.

At Berny, Clermont erected a private theatre, upon whose stage the fair chatelaine, we may presume, occasionally condescended to appear, though Gaboriau is indebted to his imagination for the statement that she was in the habit of dancing ”_pour la plus grande joie des moines ravis_,”[112] as the chateau was the private residence of the abbot, to which his subordinates were never admitted. If they desired to see their superior on business connected with the abbey, they had to present themselves at his hotel in the Rue de Richelieu.

Mlle. de Camargo presided over the Chateau of Berny for some four years, when an obscure _figurante_ of the Opera, Mlle. Le Duc by name, ”a creature without intelligence, without manners, without principles, without a soul,”[113] stole away the heart of the Comte de Clermont.

Mlle. Le Duc was the property of President de Rieux, son of the celebrated financier, Samuel Bernard, who, having purchased the lady's affections at a great price, was naturally reluctant to surrender them.

To oppose himself to a Prince of the Blood in an affair of such importance was more, however, than he had the courage to do; and so, one day, while the president was dispensing justice in the Cour des Enquetes, Mlle. Le Duc bade farewell to the luxurious nest which the luckless judge had furnished for her, and transferred herself and her belongings to Berny.

Henceforth, the president lived only for revenge, and racked his brains to discover some means whereby he might humble the pride of the Comte de Clermont, and make the faithless Le Duc bitterly rue the day on which she had so basely betrayed him. At length, he resolved upon the following plan of campaign: he would invite Mlle. de Camargo to occupy the vacant place in his affections, and surround her with such luxury, array her in such toilettes, load her with such presents as would cause Mlle. Le Duc to die of envy, and her monkish lover to gnaw his fingers with vexation. He accordingly made overtures to the deserted ballerina, which were promptly accepted; and one morning all Paris was talking of the magnificent generosity of the President de Rieux, who had sent his new mistress a chastely-wrought bowl of solid gold, filled to the brim with double louis.

The Comte de Clermont heard of the president's gift, and hastened to accept the challenge. In the _Journal de Police_, under date March 1742, we read:--

”On Thursday, March 22, 1742, the Demoiselle Le Duc, formerly mistress of the President de Rieux, drove to the _Tenebrae_ at Longchamps[114] in a _caleche_ of cane painted blue, with all the chains of silver, drawn by six ponies no bigger than dogs, ridden by a little postilion and a little hussar, the first in a red waistcoat all galooned with silver, and with a blue plume in his hat; the other in a blue tunic, with his sabre and cap decorated with _plaques_ of silver. The Le Duc held the horses' reins, and was escorted by two footmen.

”This luxurious equipage was a gallantry of the Comte de Clermont, Abbe of Saint-Germain, to flatter the vanity of the Le Duc, who occupies the post of his favourite sultana, which the Camargo enjoyed up to the end of the year 1741.

”The G.o.ddess of the fete responded to this magnificent gallantry by attire still richer and more elegant, of blue and silver; she had for companions in her _caleche_ her sister and the Cartou.[115] A number of other actresses filled three coaches in the suite of Madame l'Abbesse, and wore her colours of blue and silver.

”All the people at Longchamps, on horseback, in coaches, or in _caleches_, formed a procession in the rear of this troupe of vestals, through curiosity or for the sake of amus.e.m.e.nt....

”Jests and songs at the expense of the Comte de Clermont have not been wanting, and the King has intimated to him that he is displeased and scandalised.

”Here is a placard which has been composed on the matter:--

'”THE TRIUMPH OF VICE At the Theatre of Longchamps, By MLLE. LE DUC.

'”_The first representation given on Holy Wednesday, March 21.

On Friday the Theatre will be closed._”'[116]

The duel between the abbe and the judge and their respective sultanas continued until both gentlemen were nearly ruined; but victory ultimately rested with the Church, as Mlle. de Camargo and the President de Rieux soon grew tired of one another and agreed to separate, the latter making the ballerina a present of 40,000 crowns out of what was left of his fortune. After this adventure, according to the report drawn up by Meusnier, of which we have already spoken, Mlle. de Camargo's old inclination for the Marquis de Sourdis revived and they resumed their interrupted _liaison_. Their respective positions were now, however, reversed, as the Marquis had fallen on evil days, and become so poor that his mistress had to pledge her earrings and necklace to enable him to live in a manner befitting his rank.

In the meanwhile, the _danseuse_ had returned to the Opera, where she, of course, met with an enthusiastic reception.

”Legere et forte en sa souplesse, La vive Camargo sautait,”

<script>