[Louis-Armaud de Bourbon, Prince de Conti, married in 1780 to Marie-Anne, commonly called Mademoiselle de Blois, one of the legitimated daughters of Louis XIV. by Madame de la Valliere.  She was called at Court La Grande Princesse, on account of her beauty and her stature.]

the husband of La Grande Princesse, who was sitting above the orchestra, in a fit of laughing, fell into it.  He tried to save himself by the cord, and, in doing so, pulled down the curtain over the lamps, set it on fire, and burnt a great hole in it.  The flames were soon extinguished, and the actors, as if they were perfectly indifferent, or unconscious of the accident, continued to play on, although we could only see them through the hole.  When there was no play, we took airings and had collations; in short, every day brought something new.  After the King’s supper we went to see magnificent artificial fireworks given by the cities of Flanders.  Everybody was gay; the Court was in perfect unanimity, and no one thought of anything but to laugh and seek amusement.

If the King had known the Duchess of Hanover, he would not have been displeased at her calling him “Monsieur.”  As she was a Sovereign Princess, he thought it was through pride that she would not call him “Sire,” and this mortified him excessively, for he was very sensitive on such subjects.

One day, before Roquelaure was made a Duke, he was out when it rained violently, and he ordered his coachman to drive to the Louvre, where the entrance was permitted to none but Ambassadors, Princes and Dukes.  When his carriage arrived at the gate they asked who it was.

“A Duke,” replied he.

“What Duke?” repeated the sentinel.

“The Duc d’Epernon,” said he.

“Which of them?”

“The one who died last.”  And upon this they let him enter.  Fearing afterwards that he might get into a scrape about it, he went directly to the King.  “Sire,” said he, “it rains so hard that I came in my coach even to the foot of your staircase.”

The King was displeased.  “What fool let you enter?” he asked.

“A greater fool than your Majesty can imagine,” replied Roquelaure, “for he admitted me in the name of the Duc d’Epernon who died last.”

This ended the King’s anger and made him laugh very heartily.

So great a fear of hell had been instilled into the King that he not only thought everybody who did not profess the faith of the Jesuits would be damned, but he even thought he was in some danger himself by speaking to such persons.  If any one was to be ruined with the King, it was only necessary to say, “He is a Huguenot or a Jansenist,” and his business was immediately settled.  My son was about to take into his service a gentleman whose mother was a professed Jansenist.  The Jesuits, by way of embroiling my son with the King, represented that he was about to engage a Jansenist on his establishment.