While passing some time in the south of France, I spent a few days at
S----, a town on the banks of the Loire, situated in that province,
which, from its fertility and beauty, is usually designated the garden
of France.
S----, I had been informed, was a place famed alike for its vineyards
and its pretty girls, a coincidence certainly natural, since it fairly
may be supposed, that the sun which ripens the richest fruit in nature,
should alike mature its sweetest flowers, and perfect the beauties and
the charms of that sex, which is literally "like the fair flower in its
lustre." As the friend, by whom I was accompanied, was well known in the
place, we were soon introduced to a circle of respectable families; and
among others, to that of Berton, consisting of the father, mother,
and daughter.
Rosalie Berton was the _belle_ of S----, or to borrow the far prettier
French phrase, she was "_la perle de ville_." And a sweet and lovely
girl she was, as ever the eye of affection hailed with delight. Her
charms had something of a peculiar style and character; for, with the
bright black eyes, and fine dark hair of the south, were united the fair
complexion and delicately tinted cheek of a northern beauty. Her face
was of a somewhat more pensive turn than usual, and her meek, mild
features, and soft dark eyes, bore traces of tender feeling and of
gentle thought; while so expressive was her countenance, that it
responded, at will, to her feelings, and the eye and the cheek which
were one moment impressed with melancholy, beamed forth the next with
all the warmth of intelligence, affection, or delight. Her
accomplishments were really of a superior kind; she walked with more
than the usual elegance of her country-women, and danced with equal
animation and grace. But her most attractive charm consisted in her
voice, which, though not particularly powerful, had a sweetness and a
melody which were perfectly delightful; so that never methinks have I
heard a softer strain, than when that fair girl was wont to sing to her
guitar the simple ballads and sweet romances of her native land. And her
musical talents were enhanced by her gentle, complying disposition, and
by the readiness with which she obeyed every call on her exertions. From
her music-master, who was a native of Italy, she also learnt Italian,
which she spoke with more fluency and correctness than is usual among
the French; she drew, moreover, with considerable taste. So affectionate
and so amiable was she, that she deserved all the encomiums of her
friends and even their hyperbolical compliments were scarcely
extravagant when applied to her. She was literally "_douce comme un
ange, jolie comme les amours;_" and, as the _ne plus ultra_ of merit in
France, she was "_tout a fait gentille_." She possessed also,
considerable dramatic skill and tact, and would, I think, have proved a
delightful acquisition to the stage, from the skill she displayed in
those little playful scenes, with which the French delight to
embellish life.
We were favoured with a specimen of her talents in this way, on the
evening of our arrival. It was the fête day of madame, the mother of
Louise, and we were invited to be present. After some time passed in
taking refreshments, varied by dancing, conversation, &c., the little
ceremony of the evening commenced; the door opened, and a small but gay
procession entered the room. It consisted of several young persons, all
friends of the family, headed by Louise, who was charmingly dressed, and
looked altogether most lovely. She bore her guitar across her bosom, and
the instrument was encircled with a wreath of flowers. Each individual
carried some little offering, such as bottles of wine and liqueurs,
conserves and sweetmeats, flowers and fruit, &c. &c.; and these were
placed on the table, the whole group forming a circle round Rosalie, who
advanced to her mother, and sang to the guitar the well-known verses
consecrated to such occasions.
Madame c'est aujourdhui votre fete,
C'est aussi celle de nos coeurs;
A vous chanter chacun s'apprete!
Et veut vous courouner de fleurs!
The lovely girl then loosed the garland from her lyre, placed it with
light hand on the brow of her mother, and sank in a graceful bending
attitude to receive her parent's blessing. She was instantly raised,
fondly embraced by both her admiring parents, and with a repetition of
the song, the whole party left the room. The scene is long past, but I
have often recalled it since; and in many an hour of fancy and of
thought, have again beheld that fair girl kneeling to her mother, again
beheld her clasped to that mother's heart. Nor was the above the only
instance of her skill, every day presented some fresh instance of her
feeling and of taste.
A _plaisanterie_, which proved very successful, was arranged as
follows:--We were sitting one evening up stairs, when we were attracted
by the performance of three musicians, who were singing in the _cour_.
The party consisted of two young men, and a female, who wore a veil;
they accompanied their songs by playing on the guitar; their performance
was evidently of a superior character; the music and the words were
Italian, and the voice of the female performer was eminently sweet and
touching. After listening some time with great delight--
"Go," said I to one of the party, "find Rosalie, and tell her to come
and listen to a better singer than herself, who will give her a _lecon
de chant_."
This was said in the hearing of the foreign songstress, for whom it was
intended as a compliment, while, at the same time, some silver was
thrown upon the ground. But what was our surprise, when the lovely girl
threw aside her veil, exclaiming--
"He! bien messieurs et dames! vous ne connaissez donc plus votre pauvre
Rosalie!"
Such was one of many pleasantries by which we were diverted and amused.
Idle fancies these indeed, and such as sterner judgments may deem
trifling or absurd, yet not uninteresting, since many of them evidently
afford vestiges of classic times and manners, transmitted through the
course of ages; nor unuseful, since they tend to smooth and adorn the
rugged way of life, and to strew its flinty path with flowers.
With the charms and accomplishments which I have described, (and the
sketch can convey but a faint idea of those which she actually
possessed,) it cannot be supposed that Rosalie was destitute of
admirers. She had, indeed, had several, but their suits were all
unsuccessful. She had been addressed in turn by the _medecin_ of the
place--by the son of the President of the Tribunal du Commerce--and by a
nephew to a Monsieur de V----, the seigneur who resided at a
neighbouring château. But they were all, more or less, improper
characters; the _medecin_ was a gamester; the president's son a
drunkard, a character utterly despised in these parts; while the nephew
to the seigneur, was actually a _mauvais sujet_! What the French
precisely understand by a _mauvais sujet_, I never could exactly make
out; for, when impelled by curiosity to inquire, my queries were always
met by such a volley of vituperation, as left one altogether in the dark
with regard to the real nature of the charge. On the whole, I presume,
we are to consider a _mauvais sujet_ as a culprit, compared with whose
transgressions, the several enormities of gaming, drinking, and the
like, sink into mere peccadilloes.
The parents of Rosalie (the parents settle all these matters in France),
on learning the character of their intended sons-in-law, dismissed them
one after the other; and Rosalie acquiesced in their determination with
a readiness and a decision, which did equal honour to her affection and
her judgment.
So interesting a girl, however, was not likely to remain long without a
suitable admirer, and she speedily had another _affaire du coeur_. A
young and handsome _militaire_, a sous-lieutenant in the royal guard,
aspired to gain her hand, and to replace the vacancy in her affections.
Henri Vaucouleurs was a fine, tall, dark, martial-looking young man (the
French make fine-looking soldiers), and, with his luxuriant mustachios
and the eager glance of his keen black eye, seemed the very _beau ideal_
of a modern hero. Born at Mezieres, in the department of Ardennes, he
was cradled in the very lap of war, and was yet a mere boy; when, in the
summer of 1813, he joined the corps called the _garde d'honneur_. He
made the campaign of Germany, and was present in the battles of Leipzig
and of Hanau, in the last of which he received a ball in the right arm.
He shortly, however, resumed his post with the army assembled for the
defence of France, and at the battle of Laon received a severe _coup de
sabre_ on his forehead, the scar of which added much to the martial
aspect of his countenance. At the peace he joined the royal guard, in
which corps he still continued. He was really a very estimable and
engaging young man; and possessed more candour, intelligence, and good
sense, than I think I ever witnessed in a military man among the French.
His account of his campaigns was exceedingly modest, unaffected, and
intelligent, and his whole conversation and manner were of a superior
character. I remember, he spoke with great forbearance of the three
principal nations among the allies, the Russians, Prussians, and
Austrians; but inveighed, bitterly, against several of the auxiliaries,
who, he said, having received only benefits of the French emperor,
embraced the first opportunity offered by a reverse of fortune, to
desert and betray him. Of Napoleon, he spoke with enthusiasm as a
soldier; but with detestation, as an intoxicated and deluded tyrant, a
rash and desperate gamester, who sent forth his attached and devoted
soldiers, to be devoured by the destroying elements, without provision,
or scarcely a thought for their natural and indispensable wants.
Such were the character and pretensions of him who was destined to gain
the affections of Rosalie. At first, he seemed to have but little chance
of success. Old people commonly entertain a prejudice against the
character and profession of military men, and are seldom ambitious of
such an alliance for a daughter. The parents of Rosalie were
prepossessed against Henri on account of his calling; and, though
Rosalie herself early entertained an interest in his favour, yet she was
too good and too _sage_ to cherish in herself, or to encourage in her
lover, an attachment which her parents might disapprove. Henri was,
however, admitted as a visiter at the house, and by degrees his amiable
manners and correct deportment won, first on the old lady, and then on
the father, till their scruples vanished, and, indeed, they wondered
they could ever have entertained any against so estimable a young man
and an officer. He was thus speedily received as the lover of Rosalie,
and about the time of my visit was installed in all the privileges of a
_bon ami_. He was equally accomplished with herself; spoke German
fluently, Italian passably well, and was an excellent performer on the
flute and the guitar; so that he was a fit companion for his charming
intended, and was able to assist in those refined and elegant
recreations, in which she also excelled.
_(To be concluded in our next.)_
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