larger than our own largest town-dwellings, while others, again, are
palaces. As these buildings were originally constructed to lodge a
single establishment, they have their principal and their inferior
apartments; some have their summer and their winter apartments. As is,
and always must be the case, where every thing like state and
magnificence are affected, the reception rooms are _en suite_; the mode
of building which prevails in America, being derived from the secondary
class of English houses. It is true, that in London, many men of rank,
perhaps of the nobility, do not live in houses any larger, or much
better, than the best of our own; though I think, that one oftener sees
rooms of a good size and proper elevation, even in these dwellings, than
it is usual to see in America. But the great houses of London, such as
Burlington-house, Northumberland-house, Devonshire-house,
Lansdown-house, Sutherland-house, (the most magnificent of all,) &c.
&c., are, more or less, on the continental plan, though not generally
built around courts. This plan eschews passages of all descriptions,
except among the private parts of the dwelling. In this respect, an
American house, is the very opposite of a European house. We are nothing
without passages, it being indispensable that every room should open on
one; whereas, here, the great point is to have as little to do with them
as possible. Thus you quit the great stair-case, by a principal door,
and find yourself in an ante-chamber; this communicates with one or two
more rooms of the same character, gradually improving in ornaments and
fixtures, until you enter a _salon_. Then comes a succession of
apartments, of greater or less magnificence, according to circumstances,
until you are led entirely round the edifice, quitting it by a door on
the great stair-case, again, opposite to the one by which you entered.
In those cases in which there are courts, the principal rooms are
ranged, in this manner, _en suite_, on the exterior range, usually
looking out on the gardens, while those within them, which look into the
court, contain the bed-rooms, boudoir, eating-rooms, and perhaps the
library. So tenacious are those, who lay any claim to gentility here, of
the use of ante-chambers, that I scarcely recollect a lodging of any
sort, beyond the solitary chamber of some student, without, at least,
one. They seem indispensable, and I think rightly, to all ideas of
style, or even of comfort. I remember to have seen an amusing instance
of the strength of this feeling, in the case of the wife of a former
French Minister, at Washington. The building she inhabited, was one of
the ordinary American double-houses, as they are called, with a passage
through the centre, the stairs in the passage, and a short corridore, to
communicate with the bed-rooms, above. Off the end of this upper
corridore, if, indeed, so short a transverse passage deserves the name,
was partitioned a room, of some eight feet by ten, as a bed-room. A room
adjoining this, was converted into a boudoir and bed-room, for Madame de
——, by means of a silk screen. The usual door of the latter opened, of
course, on the passage. In a morning call one day, I was received in the
_boudoir_. Surprised to be carried up stairs, on such an occasion, I was
still more so to find myself taken through a small room, before I was
admitted to the larger. The amount of it all was, that Madame de ——,
accustomed to have many rooms, and to think it vulgar to receive in her
great drawing-room of a morning, believing _au premier_, or up one pair
of stairs, more genteel than the _rèz de chaussée_, or the ground floor,
and feeling the necessity of an _ante-chamber_, as there was an
abruptness in being at once admitted into the presence of a lady from a
stair-case, a sort of local _brusquerie_, that would suit her cook,
better than the wife of an envoy extraordinary, had contrived to
introduce her guests through the little bed-room, at the end of the
up-stairs entry!
From all this you will be prepared to understand some of the essential
differences between a reception in Paris, and one at New York, or even
at Washington. The footman, or footmen, if there are two, ascend to the
inner ante-chamber, with their masters and mistresses, where they
receive the cloaks, shawls, over-coats, or whatever else has been used
for the sake of mere warmth, and withdraw. If they are sent home, as is
usually the case at dinners and evening parties, they return with the
things at the hour ordered, but if the call be merely a passing one, or
the guest means to go early to some other house, they either wait in the
ante-chamber, or in a room provided for that purpose. The French are
kind to their servants; much kinder than either the English, or their
humble imitators, ourselves; and it is quite common to see, not only a
good warm room, but refreshments, provided for the servants at a French
party. In England, they either crowd the narrow passages and the
door-way, or throng the street, as with us. In both countries, the poor
coachmen sit for hours on their carriage-boxes, like so many ducks, in
the drizzle and rain.
The footman gives the names of his party to the _maitre d’hôtel_, or the
groom of the chambers, who, as he throws open the door of the first
drawing-room, announces them in a loud voice. Announcing by means of a
line of servants, is rarely, if ever, practised in France, though it is
still done in England, at large parties, and in the great houses. Every
one has heard the story of the attempt at Philadelphia, some forty years
ago, to introduce the latter custom, when, by the awkwardness of a
servant, a party was announced, as “Master and Mistress, and the young
ladies;” but you will smile when I tell you that the latter part of this
style is precisely that which is most in vogue at Paris. A young lady
here, may be admired, she may be danced with, and she may even look and
be looked at; but in society she talks little, is never loud or
_belleish_, is always neat and simple in her attire, using very little
jewelry, and has scarcely any other name than _Mademoiselle_. The usual
mode of announcing is, “_Monsieur le Comte, et Madame la Comtesse d’une
telle, avec leurres des moiselles_:” or, in plain English, “The Count
and Countess Such-a-one, _with their daughters_.” This you will perceive
is not so far, after all, from “Master and Mistress, and the young
ladies.” The English, more simple in some respects, and less so in
others, usually give every name, though, in the use of titles, the
utmost good taste is observed. Thus every nobleman below a Duke, is
almost uniformly addressed and styled Lord A——, Lord B——, &c., and their
wives, Ladies A—— and B——. Thus the Marquess of Lansdowne would, I
think, always be addressed and spoken of, and even announced, merely as
Lord Lansdowne. This, you will observe, is using the simplest possible
style, and it appears to me that there is rather an affectation of
simplicity in their ordinary intercourse, the term “My Lord” being
hardly ever used, except by the tradesmen and domestics. The safest rule
for an American, and certainly the one that good taste would dictate, is
to be very sparing in his use of every thing of this sort, since he
cannot be always certain of the proper usages of the different countries
he visits, and, so long as he avoids unnecessary affectations of
republicanisms, and, if a gentleman, this he will do without any effort,
simplicity is his cue. When I say _avoids the affectations of
republicanisms_, I do not mean the points connected with principles, but
those vulgar and under-bred pretensions of ultra equality and
liberalism, which, while they mark neither manliness nor a real
appreciation of equal rights, almost uniformly betray a want of proper
training and great ignorance of the world. Whenever, however, any
attempt is made to identify equality of rights and democratical
institutions with vulgarity and truculency, as is sometimes attempted
here, in the presence of Americans, and even in good company, it is the
part of every _gentleman_ of our country to improve the opportunity that
is thus afforded him, to show it is a source of pride, with him, to
belong to a nation in which a hundred men are not depressed politically,
in order that one may be great; and also to show how much advantage,
after all, he who is right in substance has over him who is
substantially wrong, even in the forms of society, and in that true
politeness which depends on natural justice. Such a principle, acted on
systematically, would soon place the gentlemen of America where they
ought to be, and the gentlemen of other countries where, sooner or
later, they must be content to descend, or to change their systems. That
these things are not so, must be ascribed to our provincial habits, our
remote situation, comparative insignificance, and chiefly to the
circumstance that men’s minds, trained under a different state of
things, cannot keep even pace with the wonderful progress of the facts
of the country.
But all this time, I have only got you into the outer _salon_ of a
French hotel. In order that we may proceed more regularly, we will
return to the dinner given by our minister to Mr. Canning. Mr. Brown has
an apartment in the _Hôtel Monaco_, one of the best houses in Paris. The
Prince of Monaco is the sovereign of a little territory of the same
name, on the Gulf of Nice, at the foot of the maritime Alps. His states
may be some six or eight miles square, and the population some six or
eight thousand. The ancient name of the family is Grimaldi, but by some
intermarriage or other, the Duke of Valentinois, a Frenchman, has become
the prince. This little state is still independent, though under the
especial protection of the king of Sardinia, and without foreign
relations. It was formerly a common thing for the petty princes of
Europe to own hotels at Paris. Thus the present hotel of the Legion of
Honour, was built by a Prince of Salms, and the Princes of Monaco had
two, one of which is occupied by the Austrian ambassador, and, in the
other, our own minister, just at this moment, has an apartment. As I had
been pressed especially to be early, I went a little before six, and
finding no one in the drawing-room, I strolled into the bureau, where I
found Mr. Shelden, the Secretary of Legation, who lived in the family,
dressed for dinner. We chatted a little, and, on my admiring the
magnificence of the rooms, he gave me the history of the hotel, as you
have just heard it, with an additional anecdote that may be worth
relating.
“This hotel,” said the Secretary, “was once owned by M. de Talleyrand,
and this bureau was probably the receptacle of state secrets of far
greater importance than any that are connected with our own simple and
unsupported claims for justice.” He then went on to say, that the
citizens of Hamburgh, understanding it was the intention of Napoleon to
incorporate their town with the empire, had recourse to a _douceur_, in
order to prevent an act, that, by destroying their neutrality, would
annihilate their commerce. Four millions of francs were administered on
this occasion, and of these a large proportion, it is said, went to pay
for the hotel Monaco, which was a recent purchase of M. de Talleyrand.
To the horror of the _Hambourgeois_, the money was scarcely paid, when
the deprecated decree appeared, and every man of them was converted into
a Frenchman, by the stroke of a pen. The worthy burghers were accustomed
to receive a _quid pro quo_, for every florin they bestowed, failing of
which, on the present occasion, they sent a deputation forthwith to
Napoleon, to reveal the facts, and to make their complaints. That great
man little liked that any one but himself should peculate in his
dominions, and, in the end, M. de Talleyrand, was obliged to quit the
hotel Monaco. By some means, with which I am unacquainted, most probably
by purchase, however, the house is now the property of Madame Adelaide
of Orleans.
The rolling of a coach into the court was a signal for us to be at our
posts, and we abandoned the bureau, so lately occupied by the great
father of diplomacy, for the drawing-room. I have already told you that
this dinner was in honor of Mr. Canning, and, although diplomatic in one
sense, it was not so strictly confined to the corps as to prevent a
selection. This selection, in honor of the principal guest, had been
made from the representatives of the great powers, Spain being the least
important nation represented on the occasion, the republic of
Switzerland excepted. I do not know whether the presence of the Swiss
_Chargé d’Affaires_ was so intended or not, but it struck me as pointed,
and in good taste, for all the other foreign agents were ambassadors,
with the exception of the Prussian, who was an Envoy Extraordinary.
Diplomacy has its honorary gradations as well as a military corps, and
as you can know but little of such matters, I will explain them _en
passant_. First in rank comes the ambassador. This functionary is
supposed to represent the personal dignity of the state that sends him.
If a king, there is a room in his house that has a throne, and it is
usual to see the chair reversed, in respect for its sanctity, and it
appears to be etiquette to suspend the portrait of the sovereign beneath
the canopy. The Envoy Extraordinary comes next, and then the Minister
Plenipotentiary. Ordinarily, these two functions are united in the same
individual. Such is the rank of Mr. Brown. The Minister Resident is a
lower grade, and the _Chargé d’Affaires_ the lowest of all. _Inter se_,
these personages take rank according to this scale. Previously to the
peace of 1814, the representative of one monarch laid claim to precede
the representative of another, always admitting, however, of the
validity of the foregoing rule. This pretension gave rise to a good deal
of heart-burning and contention. Nothing can, in itself, be of greater
indifference, whether A. or B. walk into the reception-room, or to the
dinner table, first, but when the idea of general superiority is
associated with the act, the aspect of the thing is entirely changed.
Under the old system, the ambassador of the Emperor claimed precedence
over all other ambassadors, and, I believe, the representatives of the
kings of France had high pretensions also. Now there are great mutations
in states. Spain, once the most important kingdom of Europe, has much
less influence to-day than Prussia, a power of yesterday. Then the
minister of the most insignificant prince claimed precedency over the
representative of the most potent republic. This might have passed while
republics were insignificant and dependent, but no one can believe that
a minister of America, for instance, representing a state of fifty
millions, as will be the case before long, would submit to such an
extravagant pretension on the part of a minister of Wurtemburg, or
Sardinia, or Portugal. He would not submit to such a pretension on the
part of the minister of any power on earth.
I do not believe that the Congress of Vienna had sufficient foresight,
or sufficient knowledge of the actual condition of the United States, to
foresee this difficulty, but there were embarrassing points to be
settled among the European states themselves, and the whole affair was
disposed of, on a very discreet and equitable principle. It was decided
that priority of standing at a particular court, should regulate the
rank between the different classes of agents at that particular court.
Thus the ambassador longest at Paris, precedes all the other ambassadors
at Paris, and the same rule prevails with the ministers and _chargés_,
according to their respective gradations of rank. A provision, however,
was made in favor of the representative of the Pope, who, if of the rank
of a Nuncio, precedes all ambassadors. This concession has been made in
honor of the church, which, as you must know, or ought to be told, is an
interest much protected in all monarchies, statesmen being notoriously
of tender consciences.
The constant habit of meeting, drills the diplomatic corps so well, that
they go through the evolutions of etiquette as dexterously as a corps of
regular troops perform their wheelings and counter-marches. The first
great point with them is punctuality, for to people who sacrifice so
much of it to forms, time gets to be precious. The roll of wheels was
incessant in the court of the hotel Monaco, from the time the first
carriage entered, until the last had set down its company. I know, as
every man who reflects must know, that it is inherently ill-bred to be
late any where, but I never before felt how completely it was high
breeding to be as punctual as possible. The _maitre d’hôtel_ had as much
as he could do to announce the company, who entered as closely after
each other as decorum and dignity would permit; I presume one party
waited a little for the others in the outer drawing-room, the reception
being altogether in the inner room.
The Americans very properly came first. We were Mr. Gallatin, who was
absent from London on leave, his wife and daughter, and a clergyman and
his wife, and myself; Mrs. —— having declined the invitation, on account
of ill health. The announcing and the entrance of most of the company,
especially as every body was in high dinner dress, the women in jewels
and the men wearing all their orders, had something of the air of a
scenic display. The effect was heightened by the magnificence of the
hotel, the drawing-room in which we were collected being almost regal.
The first person who appeared, was a handsome, compact, well built,
gentleman-like little man, who was announced as the Duke of Villa
Hermosa, the Spanish Ambassador. He was dressed with great simplicity
and beauty, having, however, the breast of his coat covered with stars,
among which I recognised, with historical reverence, that of the Golden
Fleece. He came alone, his wife, pleading indisposition for her absence.
The Prussian Minister and his wife came next. Then followed Lord and
Lady Granville, the representatives of England. He was a large
well-looking man, but wanted the perfect command of movement and manner
that so much distinguish his brethren in diplomacy; as for mere physical
stuff, he and our own minister, who stands six feet four in his
stockings, would make material enough for all the rest of the corps. He
wore the star of the Bath. The Austrian ambassador and ambassadress
followed, a couple of singularly high air and a good tone of manner. He
is a Hungarian, and very handsome; she a Veronese, I believe, and
certainly a woman admirably adapted for her station. They had hardly
made their salutations, before _M. le Comte, et Mad. la Comtesse de
Villèle_ were announced. Here, then, we had the French prime minister.
As the women precede the men into a drawing-room, here, knowing how to
walk and to curtsey, alone, I did not, at first, perceive the great man,
who followed so close to his wife’s skirts as to be nearly hid. But he
was soon flying about the room, at large, and betrayed himself,
immediately, to be a fidget. Instead of remaining stationary, or nearly
so, as became his high quality, he took the _initiative_ in compliments,
and had nearly every diplomatic man, walking apart in the adjoining
room, in a political aside, in less than twenty minutes. He had a
countenance of shrewdness, and I make little doubt is a better man in a
bureau than in a drawing-room. His colleague, the foreign minister, M.
de Damas and his wife came next. He was a large, heavy-looking
personage, that I suspect throws no small part of the diplomacy on the
shoulders of the Premier, though he had more the manner of good society
than his colleague. He has already exchanged his office for that of
Governor of the Heir Presumptive, as I have already stated. There was a
pause, when a quiet, even-paced, classical-looking man, in the attire of
an ecclesiastic, appeared in the door, and was announced as “My Lord the
Nuncio.” He was then an Archbishop, and wore the usual dress of his
rank; but I have since met him at an evening party, with a red hat under
his arm, the Pope having recalled him and raised him to that dignity. He
is now Cardinal Macchi. He was a priestly and an intellectual-looking
personage, and, externals considered, well suited to his station. He
wore a decoration, or two, as well as most of the others.
“My lord Clanricarde and Mr. Canning” came next, and the great man,
followed by his son-in-law, made his appearance. He walked into the room
with the quiet _àplomb_ of a man accustomed to being _lionized_, and,
certainly, without being of striking, he was of very pleasing
appearance. His size was ordinary, but his frame was compact and well
built, neither too heavy nor too light for his years, but of just the
proportions to give one the idea of a perfect management of the machine.
His face was agreeable, and his eye steady and searching. He and M. de
Villele were the very opposites in demeanour, though, after all, it was
easy to see that the Englishman had the most latent force about him. One
was fidgetty, and the other humorous; for with all his command of limb
and gesture, nothing could be more natural than the expression of Mr.
Canning. I may have imagined that I detected some of his wit, from a
knowledge of the character of his mind. He left the impression, however,
of a man whose natural powers were checked by a trained and factitious
deference to the rank of those with whom he associated. Lord Granville,
I thought, treated him with a sort of affectionate deference, and, right
or wrong, I jumped to the conclusion, that the English ambassador was a
straight-forward good fellow, at the bottom, and one very likely to
badger the fidgetty premier, by his steady determination to do what was
right. I thought M. de Damas, too, looked like an honest man. God
forgive me, if I do injustice to any of these gentlemen!
All this time, I have forgotten Count Pozzo di Borgo, the Russian
ambassador. Being a bachelor, he came alone. It might have been fancy,
but I thought he appeared more at his ease, under the American roof,
than any of his colleagues. The perfect good understanding between our
own government and that of Russia, extends to their representatives,
and, policy or not, we are better treated by them, than by any other
foreign ministers. This fact should be known and appreciated, for as one
citizen of the republic, however insignificant, I have no notion of
being blackguarded and vituperated half a century, and then cajoled into
forgetfulness, at the suggestions of fear and expediency, as
circumstances render our good will of importance. Let us at least show
that we are not mannikins to be pulled about for the convenience and
humours of others, but that we know what honest words are, understand
the difference between civility and abuse, and have pride enough to
resent contumely, when, at least, we feel it to be unmerited. M. Pozzo
is a handsome man, of good size and a fine dark eye, and has a greater
reputation for talents, than any other member of the diplomatic corps
now at Paris. He is, by birth, a Corsican, and I have heard it said,
distantly related to Bonaparte. This may be true, Corsica being so small
a country; just as some of us are related to every body in West Jersey.
Our party now consisted of the prime minister, the secretary of foreign
affairs, the Austrian and English ambassadors, and the Prussian
minister, with their wives, the Nuncio, the Russian and Spanish
ambassadors, the Swiss Chargé d’Affaires, Mr. Canning, Lord Clanricarde,
Mr., Mrs., and Miss Gallatin, and the other Americans already mentioned,
or twenty-five in all.