Two of these princes married and founded families: Antoine, who was the father of Henri IV., and the ancestor of all the Bourbons now living, and Louis, who was the root of the House of Condé and all its branches.

Louis, the youngest brother, was only in his eighth year at the time of his father’s death. Of his boyhood nothing whatever is known, though, as his widowed mother, who lived in strict retirement, was scarcely the person best fitted to superintend that chivalrous education which was deemed indispensable for a lad of high birth, it is probable that he was brought up by his brother-in-law, the Duc de Nevers, or some other male relative. The earliest recorded mention of him occurs in the Domestic Roll of Henri II. for the year 1549, where he appears under the name of “Louis Mr de Vendôme, gentleman of the chamber to the King, at a salary of 1200 livres.”

The precise time and occasion of his assuming the title which he and his descendants were to render so illustrious are likewise involved in obscurity. The Duc d’Aumale asserts that the earliest official document in which it is given, is in the procès-verbal of the Bed of Justice held on 15 January, 1557;[2] but since the duke wrote it has been discovered that he is thus qualified in at least half-a-dozen other deeds previous to that date, the earliest being an acte seigneurial of 30 March, 1553; while Henri II., in a letter to the Duc de Nevers written on 12 June, 1554, refers to the duke’s youngest brother-in-law as “My cousin, the Prince de Condé.”[3]

Equal uncertainty prevails as to whether he derived the title from Condé-sur-l’Escaut or Condé-en-Brie, both of which lordships seem to have been owned by his father, Charles, Duc de Vendôme. “The best known of the chroniclers of the family, Désormeaux,” observes the Duc d’Aumale, “declares it to be beyond all doubt that the first prince derived his name from Condé-en-Brie.” Indeed, in the marriage-contract of Louis I., the lordship of Condé-en-Brie appears in the list of the prince’s possessions. He owned a château there, at which he often resided, and executed various deeds, whereas there is no official document relating to him known to exist in which any mention is made of Condé-sur-l’Escaut. But another historian of the family, l’Hullier, who, though a tedious and very dull writer, has left in MS. many historical and genealogical memoirs, of which Désormeaux has often made use, declares himself in favour of Condé-sur-l’Escaut; and the Convention appeared to be of the same opinion, by its naming that place “Nord-libre.” The illustrious author modestly “leaves to more learned historians the task of solving the question,” but the majority of modern writers are inclined to favour the claims of Condé-sur-l’Escaut, though, apparently, for no better reason than because it is the more important of the two places.

Few Princes of the Blood have made a more modest début at the Court of France than the first of the Condés. Since the treason of the Connétable de Bourbon his family had fallen into a sort of discredit, and, though, in the last years of the previous reign, the partiality shown by François I. for the young Comte d’Enghien had seemed a promise of returning favour, the untimely death of the count, followed by that of the King, soon dissipated their hopes. When the head of the house, Antoine, Duc de Vendôme, was hard put to maintain a position in accordance with his rank, there was little enough for his younger brothers; and Louis de Bourbon made his appearance at Court so quietly dressed and with so modest a suite as to provoke no small merriment at his expense among the gorgeous butterflies of both sexes who adorned the salons of the Louvre and the gallery of the Tournelles.

Nor was there anything in the personal appearance of this youth of nineteen to suggest the great part that he was to play in after years. Unlike his ancestors, who had been tall men of imposing presence, he was short and slightly built, and some anecdote-mongers even represent him as hump-backed. Admitting however, that he may have been round-shouldered, the imputation of actual deformity is scarcely reconcilable with the well-known popular song concerning him:

“Ce petit homme tant jolly,

Qui toujours cause et toujours ry

Et toujours baise sa mignonne,

Dieu gard’ de mal le petit homme.”