Worthless Wanton

THE SCANDAL OF SOPHIE DAWES--Marjorie Bowen--Appleton-Century ($2.50).

During the reign of fat, cunning, democratic King Louis Philippe, an extraordinary crime, involving a smuggler's daughter, a great prince and the royal family, shocked a France that had become thoroughly accustomed to lurid intrigues and vile conspiracies. The smuggler's daughter was Sophie Dawes, brawny, coarse, mean-tempered Englishwoman from the Isle of Wight. The prince was Louis Henri Joseph, Duc de Bourbon, Prince de Conde, who had picked Sophie up in a London brothel. She was given great estates by her lover, was received by the king, moved in the highest French society despite her lack of tact, her shameless social climbing and her inability to speak the language. Beginning by amusing her super-aristocratic lover she soon dominated him, beat him occasionally and was generally suspected of strangling him to death. In her peaceful old age she retired to enjoy her riches and the protection of the king.

Marjorie Bowen recounts ''with scrupulous exactitude" Sophie Dawes's strange and fascinating story in a volume that for originality and vigor makes most contemporary biographies look frail. No hero worshipper. Author Bowen calls Sophie a vulgar wanton, a young slut, compares her with a gutter rat, declares that "her worthlessness and the squalor of her tale is duly recognized by the author." Nevertheless she manages to draw a convincing flesh & blood portrait of her subject. Although The Scandal of Sophie Dawes, for all its impressive documentation, emphatically does not solve the great mystery of Sophie's career, it does outline the problem in a manner calculated to provoke thoughtful speculation.

France had not recovered from the shock of revolution when the Prince de Conde first met his appalling mistress. The last of his family, weak, lazy, amiable, vicious, the Prince "had gained nothing from his very distinguished birth but the melancholy grace that marked his tall person, and long, slightly sheeplike face." In addition to the loss of his estates and honors, the revolution had cost the Prince his son, and most of his ambition. In 1814 his enormous wealth was restored to him and Sophie, whose influence was then uncertain, followed him to Paris, endured rebuffs and humiliations, waited, wrote cunning letters and cherished the one great stupid passion of her life--to be received at court. Slowly she ingratiated herself, devoting her tenacity, her resourcefulness, her frowsy full-blown beauty to the sordid ends of money and social position. No romance graced her relationship with the Prince. "On neither side was there any but ignoble passions . . . the lover's half senile lust . . . the mistress's vulgar greed for vulgar gains." Sophie was an example of a "common, inoffensive human weakness, snobbishness, provoking murder, most appalling of human crimes."

To cover her intrigue with the Prince, she married, posing, with the Prince's aid, as his illegitimate daughter. The ruse was successful until in a fit of rage Sophie stupidly disclosed her deception to her husband and was expelled from court. She promptly set to work to get back in. Rebuffed by aristocrats who regarded her with loathing, she found an ally in Louis Philippe, then Duc d'Orleans, who wanted the Prince's wealth left to one of his sons. Brightest of Marjorie Bowen's witty characterizations is that of Louis Philippe, son of Egalite who during the revolution had voted for his own cousin's execution. Educated according to the principles of Rousseau, prudent, embarrassingly virtuous, Louis Philippe played a despicable game. Prince de Conde detested him for his democratic affectations, which included carrying a humble and unnecessary umbrella. Irresolute as he was, the Prince was determined never to leave his wealth to a son of Louis Philippe. Louis then agreed to get Sophie restored to royal favor if she would compel Prince de Conde to make the will he desired. Thus the great struggle began.

Sophie introduced tough, husky members of her old smuggling family into the Prince's household, obtained titles or good marriages for them, drove out the Prince's faithful old servants. She used her great strength to throw things around in her fits of rage, keeping the household in terror. She planted several of her lovers, all great, beefy, stalwart fellows, around the Prince, so that all his movements were reported to her. The aging de Conde, feeble, crippled, harried night & day, was nagged, abused, tormented, once appeared with a badly bruised eye, once screamed that Sophie was trying to cut his throat, eventually signed the will that Sophie demanded. He had said he would be killed if he ever signed it. He was.

Sophie was received at court, where she was as welcome as a leper. The revolution of 1830 placed Louis Philippe on the throne. Prince de Conde, still surrounded by Sophie's brawny cousins and lovers, tried to flee the country, was discovered by Sophie and subsequently strangled in his bed. An investigation, establishing Sophie's guilt, was suppressed by the king. Sophie had her wealth, her entree into society, but she was hissed in the theatre, snubbed on all sides, while her scandal nearly overthrew the government. She developed into a monstrous, muscular, scowling and ugly woman, adopted a daughter, lived ten years after the Prince's death, became extremely pious, doing great good works for the poor.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.