PARIS AND THE WEDDING
Friday morning, Alfonso and Leo were missed at the table, and during the
day as guides. Early every day while in Paris, Alfonso had bouquets of
fresh flowers sent to the rooms of his mother, sisters, and May Ingram.
After his departure the flowers did not come, so Gertrude and May before
breakfast walked down the boulevard to the flower show, near the
Madeleine, where twice a week are gathered many flower carts in charge of
courteous peasant women. The flowers of Paris are usually cheap. A franc,
eighteen cents, buys a bunch of pansies, or roses in bud or full bloom,
or marguerites. The latter are similar to the English ox-eyed daisy, a
favorite flower with the French, also with Gertrude, who often pinned a
bunch on May Ingram. In mid-winter Parisian gardeners delight in forcing
thousands of white lilac blossoms, which are sold in European capitals
for holiday gifts.
Gertrude and May hurried back to the hotel as happy as the birds in the
trees of the boulevard. When Gertrude reached her mother, a telegram was
given her from George which read:
City of Brussels.
_Gertrude_,--
We expect to arrive in Paris Saturday evening 6 o'clock. Alfonso and
Leo here. All well. Grand trip. Love to all.
George.
Mrs. Harris and her young ladies planned to give most of the day to the
purchase of Gertrude's trousseau and other needed articles. May Ingram
thought it was "just lovely" to be with Gertrude in Paris, and help her
select the wedding outfit. Earlier than usual on Friday morning the
Harrises left the hotel. All four women were somewhat excited, as Mrs.
Harris and Gertrude led the way, Lucille and May following, to M. Worth's
establishment, located at Rue de la Paix 7.
Lucille said, "It is strange indeed that, in view of the French ridicule
made of the English on account of their lack of taste in dress, the best
dressmakers in Paris should be Englishmen."
Chief among all the Parisian dressmakers is Charles Frederick Worth, who
was born in 1825, at Bourne, Lincolnshire. He came to Paris in 1858, and
opened business with fifty employees combining the selling of fine dress
material and the making of it. Worth now employs twelve hundred persons,
and turns out annually over six thousand dresses and nearly four thousand
cloaks; his sons ably assist him.
Rare fabrics and designs in silk and other choice material are woven, and
artistic ornaments are made especially for M. Worth. Paris, as the center
of fashion, is greatly indebted to him, who gained in his line world-wide
fame, and for nearly half a century he has been universally recognized by
his competitors and the fair sex as master of his art. Kingdoms, empires,
republics, and cabinets in swift succession followed each other, but the
establishment of M. Worth maintained its proud position against all
changes and rivals. He was helped to the highest pedestal of dictator
of fashions by Mme. de Pourtales and Princess Pauline Metternich, both
of whom possessed a keen sense of the fitness of texture, color, and
cut, and with delicate hands could tone and modify till perfection was
reached. The former introduced M. Worth to Empress Eugenie, for whom,
and for the ladies of whose court, he designed state, dinner, and fancy
costumes.
That M. Worth possessed rare artistic taste aside from dressmaking is
evidenced in the beauty of his rural home at Suresnes on the Seine, seven
and a half miles from Paris. It is a superb work of harmony and is like
a charming mosaic, every piece fitting into every other piece. He was
his own architect, designer, upholsterer, and gardener. His villa lies
beneath Mt. Valerien, one of the finest sites near Paris, and the outlook
on the Seine, the Bois de Boulogne, and Paris, is a dream of beauty.
Hurriedly passing down the Rue de la Paix, the stately Column Vendome in
the vista, the Harris party entered M. Worth's establishment, to which
women, from actress to empress, make pilgrimages from the end of the
world.
What a medley of people were already assembled! English duchesses,
Russian princesses, Austrians, Spanish and Levantine aristocracy; wives
and daughters of American railroad kings, of oil magnates, and of coal
barons; brunette beauties from India, Japan, South America, and even
fair Australians, all unconsciously assuming an air of ecstasy as they
revelled in the fabric and fashion of dress; and stalking among them,
that presiding genius, M. Worth, who in his mitre-shaped cap of black
velvet, and half mantle or robe, strikingly resembled the great painter
Hogarth.
Mrs. Harris sent forward her letter of introduction from her husband's
New York banker, and soon she and her friends were ushered into the
presence of M. Worth himself. He seemed very gracious, asking about
several good friends of his in America, and added, "Americans are my best
clients, though we dispatch dresses to all parts of the world."
Gertrude inquired as to the origin of fashion. M. Worth answered
cautiously, "When new fabrics or designs of material are invented, some
require a severe style, and some are adapted for draperies, puffings,
etc., and then the stage has great influence over fashion."
May Ingram said, "Mr. Worth, how do you arrange designs?" He answered,
"All my models are first made in black and white muslin, and then copied
in the material and coloring which I select. In a studio our models are
photographed for future reference."
Saying this, he excused himself to welcome new arrivals, first having
placed the Harrises in charge of a competent assistant. M. Worth's many
rooms were plainly furnished with counters for measuring materials. The
floors were covered with a gray and black carpet, in imitation of a
tiger's skin, with a scarlet border. Several young women dressed in the
latest style of morning, visiting, dinner, and reception toilets, passed
up and down before clients to enable them to judge of effects. Mrs.
Harris explained that one daughter desired, at an early date, a wedding
dress and that the other members of her party wanted gowns.
Friday and Saturday were occupied at Worth's in selecting dresses, and
elsewhere in search of gloves and other essentials. A delightful hour was
spent among the many makers of artificial flowers. Skilled fingers make
from wire and silk stems and stamens and dies, shape leaves and petals
which are darkened by a camel's hair pencil, or lightened by a drop of
water. Capable botanists and chemists are employed, and nature herself is
rivaled in delicate construction and fragrance even.
In their round of shopping, the Harrises saw an ideal robe being made for
an American belle. It was composed entirely of flowers, a skirt of roses
of different tints, with a waist of lovely rose buds, and over all a veil
with crystal drops in imitation of the morning dew. "A gem of a dress for
some fairy," thought Lucille.
Promptly at six o'clock Gertrude and Lucille drove to the railway
station, and welcomed back George and Colonel Harris, and after dinner
all went to the opera. Between the acts Gertrude and George told much
of their late experiences. George said that Colonel Harris had become
greatly interested in their scheme to build in America an ideal plant and
town, and that he was anxious to return home as he felt that one's work
must be done early, as life was short at best.
Gertrude explained to George all that had been done in preparing for the
wedding, and said that she would be ready soon, that her mother and
Lucille approved of their wedding trip of two weeks in Switzerland, and
then Gertrude added, "I shall be ready, George, when you are, to return
to America and to aid you all I can."
Colonel Harris suggested a ride to Versailles, and Monday morning at nine
o'clock Gaze's coach and four drove to the Grand Hotel, and six outside
seats which had been reserved for the Harris party were filled. The
coachman drove down the Avenue de l'Opera and into the Place du
Carrousel, stopping a moment that all might admire the artistic pavilions
of the Louvre, and the statue to the memory of Leon Gambetta, "Father of
the Republic." Thence they rode out of the Court of the Tuileries, across
the Place de la Concord, and down the charming Champs Elysées. On the
left stands the Palais de l'Industrie, where the salon or annual
exhibition of modern paintings and sculptures occurs in May and June. On
the right is the Palais de l'Elysée, the official residence of the French
president.
George recalled that in these gardens of Paris, in 1814, Emperors
Alexander and Francis, King Frederick III., and others sang a _Te Deum_,
in thanksgiving for their great victory over Napoleon I.; that here
the English, Prussian, and Russian troops bivouacked, and that in the
spring of 1871, Emperor William and his brilliant staff led the German
troops beneath the Arc de Triomphe, while the German bands played "Die
Wacht am Rhine."
The coach passed through the Bois de Boulogne, in sight of lovely lakes,
quaint old windmills, and across famous Longchamps, where after the
Franco-German War under a bright sky, in the presence of the French
president, his cabinet, the senate and chamber of deputies, in full
dress, and a million of enthusiastic citizens, Grevy and Gambetta
presented several hundred silk banners to the French army. Thence the
drive was along the left bank of the river till the ruins of St. Cloud
were reached, where Napoleon III. Unwittingly signed his abdication when
he declared war against Prussia.
Climbing the hills through fine old forests after fourteen miles of
travel southwest of Paris, the coach reached Versailles. Here that
magnificent monarch, Louis XIV. lavished hundreds of millions on
palaces, parks, fountains, and statues, and here the Harrises studied the
brilliant pictorial history of France. In the Grand Gallery, which
commands beautiful views of garden and water, are effective paintings
in the ceiling, which represent the splendid achievements of Louis XIV.
In this same Hall of Glass, beneath Le Brun's color history of the defeat
of the Germans by the French, occurred in 1871 a bit of fine poetic
justice, when King William of Prussia, with the consent of the German
States, was saluted as Emperor of reunited Germany. After visiting the
Grand Trianon the home of Madame de Maintenon, the coach returned via
Sevres, famous for its wonderful porcelain, and reached Paris at sunset.
The day was one long to be remembered.
The Paris mornings were spent either in visits to the Louvre or in
driving. George and Gertrude walked much in Paris. Monday morning all
resolved to enjoy on foot the Boulevards from the Grand Hotel to the
Place de la Republique. It was a field-day for the women, for every shop
had its strong temptation, and the world seemed on dress-parade.
Boulevard des Italiens in Paris is the most frequented and fashionable.
Here are located handsome hotels and cafés, and many of the choicest and
most expensive shops. Several of these were visited, and many presents
were sent back to the hotel for friends at home.
At noon the Harrises took a simple lunch at one of the popular Duval
restaurants. While the ladies continued their purchases, Colonel Harris
and George visited the Bourse, or exchange, a noble building. Business at
this stock exchange opens at twelve o'clock and closes at three o'clock.
The loud vociferations of brokers, the quick gestures of excited
speculators, and the babel of tongues produced a deafening noise, like
that heard at the stock exchange in New York.
By appointment the ladies called at the exchange, and a coach took the
party to the Place de la Republique, where stands a superb statue of the
Republic, surrounded with seated figures of Liberty, Fraternity, and
Equality. Colonel Harris had often noticed these remarkable words cut
into many of the public buildings of Paris, and he remarked that the
lesson taught by them was as injurious as that taught in the Declaration
of Independence, which declares, that "all men are created equal."
Along the broadest parts of some boulevards and in public parks many
chairs are placed for hire. On all the boulevards are numerous pillars,
and small glass stalls, called kiosques, where newspapers are sold. The
pillars and kiosques are covered with attractive advertisements. In these
kiosques are sold, usually by women and children, many of the 750 papers
and periodicals of Paris. Fifty of these papers are political. The
_Gazette_ is two hundred and sixty-four years old, established in 1631.
_Le Temps_, "The Times," an evening paper, is English-like, and widely
known. _Le Journal des Debats_, "The Journal of Debate," appears in
correct and elegant language, and it usually discusses questions of
foreign as well as of home politics. Papers called _Petite_, or "Little,"
have an immense circulation. Over a half million copies of _Le Petite
Journal_ are sold daily. Frenchmen at home or abroad are not happy
without their _Figaro_, which is read for its news of amusements, spicy
gossip, and the odor of the boulevards. The sensitive and powerful press
of Paris has often provoked political changes and revolutions.
To study better the important revolution for liberty which occurred on
the ever memorable 14th of July, 1789, the Harrises drove along the
boulevard till they approached the Bastille, formerly the site of a
castle, or stronghold, used for a long time as a state prison for the
confinement of persons who fell victims to the caprice of the government.
The graceful bronze July Column is 154 feet in height, and it
commemorates the destruction of the Bastille, symbol of despotism. A
strong desire for independence raised the cry "Down with the Bastille,"
and the advancing tide of revolution overcame the moats, the walls, the
guns, and the garrison, and freedom was victorious. On the column the
names of the fallen "July Heroes" are emblazoned in gilded letters. In
large vaults beneath are buried the heroes of 1789, with the victims of
the later revolution of 1848. The capital of the column is crowned with
an artistic Genius of Liberty standing on a globe, and holding in one
hand the broken chains of slavery, and in the other the torch of
enlightenment.
All the boulevards were crowded with artisans in blue blouses, hurrying
to their homes, as the Harrises drove along the quays to Notre Dame. They
were in time to witness the sun burnish with his golden rays the graceful
spire, the majestic tower, and elegant façade, and to enjoy the harmony
of its grand organ within. To know Notre Dame, founded seven centuries
ago, is to learn well the history of Paris, and to study the monuments of
Paris alone, is to acquire the history of France.
Every day some of the Harris party visited the vast Louvre, the most
important public building of Paris, both architecturally and on account
of its wonderful art treasures which are the most extensive and valuable
in the world. Thus two weeks went swiftly by in sight-seeing, and in
preparation for the marriage.
The private parlors, banquet hall, and several rooms for guests of the
Grand Hotel had been secured for Gertrude's wedding, which was to take
place on George's birthday. Though superstition for ages had placed
birthdays under a ban, yet Gertrude herself preferred this day, and all
concurred. Beautiful presents had already arrived from America, and
letters from schoolmates and friends, several of whom, however, had sent
their presents to Harrisville. Nearly a thousand invitations in all,
mostly to friends in America, had been mailed, including a hundred to
friends traveling on the British Isles, and on the continent. May Ingram
had met in London Claude Searles, son of Hugh Searles, and a graduate of
Oxford University. She had an invitation mailed to Claude, and he
promised to come.
Alfonso and Leo arrived from Holland the night before, and each brought
paintings of their own skill as presents. Alfonso had done an exquisite
full-length portrait of Gertrude in white, the dress, the same that she
wore at Smith College graduation. All wondered about Leo's gift. Gertrude
herself cut the strings, and pushed back the paper, while her sister
Lucille looked first at her own beautiful likeness and then at Leo. Her
face grew crimson, as she said, "Leo, this is just what I most wanted for
Gertrude. Thank you! Thank you!" and she came near kissing the handsome
artist.
The mother had bought a plentiful supply of those things which daughters
most need. The father's gift was the promised check for $1000, and a
mysterious long blue envelope sealed, with the name "Mrs. Gertrude
Ingram" written on the outside. Underneath her name were the tantalizing
words, "To be opened when she reaches New York."
"Oh, I so wonder what is inside," said Gertrude.
May Ingram's gift was unique; a mahogany box, inlaid with the rare
edelweiss, encasing a Swiss phonograph, that was adjusted to play "Elsa's
Dream Song" from Lohengrin on Gertrude's marriage anniversary, till her
golden wedding should occur.
Next morning after the sun had gilded the domes and spires of Paris, the
Harrises sat at breakfast in a private room, fragrant with fresh cut
flowers. Gertrude wore at her throat her lover's gift, and she never
looked prettier or happier. All the morning till 11 o'clock everybody was
busy, when the ushers and friends began to arrive. Soon came the American
ambassador, his wife and children. At 11:45 a bishop of New York City,
Claude Searles of London, and intimate friends of the Harrises and George
Ingram followed, till the private parlors were full.
The orchestra of twenty pieces of Grand Opera House, stationed in the
reception hall, played the "Largo" of Handel. In the third parlor from
the ceiling were suspended ropes or garlands of smilax and bride's roses,
which formed a dainty canopy. White satin ribbons festooned on two rows
of potted marguerites made a bridal pathway direct from the foot of the
stairway to the dais beneath the canopy.
On the low platform stood the bishop and the manly bridegroom expectant,
when a voice at the foot of the stairway, accompanied by three
instruments, sang the Elsa's Dream Song. The wedding party came
downstairs as the orchestra played Wagner's Wedding March. The bride was
dressed in duchess satin of soft ivory tone, the bodice high and long
sleeves, with trimming of jewelled point lace. The bridesmaids wore pale
yellow cloth, with reveres and cuffs of daffodil yellow satin and white
Venetian point. Mrs. Harris wore a gown of heliotrope brocaded silk,
trimmed with rich lace and a bodice of velvet.
The wedding party took their places and Mme. Melba accompanied by piano,
harp, and violin sang Gounod's "Ave Maria."
The bishop addressed a few earnest words to the couple before him, spoke
of responsibilities and obligations, and then the formal questions of
marriage, in distinct voice, were put to George and Gertrude.
Mr. and Mrs. George Ingram received hearty congratulations. The guests
retired to the banquet hall where breakfast was served. One table with
marguerites was reserved for bride and bridegroom, ushers, and
bridesmaids. Before the breakfast was ended the bride and bridegroom had
escaped, but soon returned, the bride in a traveling gown of blue cloth.
Volleys of rice followed the bridal pair, and more rice pelted the
windows of the coach as it drove to the express train which was to convey
the happy pair to Fontainebleau for a day, and thence into Switzerland.
In the evening Colonel Harris entertained a large party of friends at the
new opera house. The Harrises next morning left for southern France.
Before the marriage day George and Gertrude had carefully provided in
Paris for the welfare of May Ingram whom both loved. And well they might,
for May had a noble nature, and her music teachers in Boston, who had
exerted their best efforts in her behalf, believed that she possessed
rare talents, which, if properly developed, would some day make her
conspicuous in the American galaxy of primadonnas.
They had secured for May sunny rooms at a pension in the Boulevard
Haussmann, where a motherly French woman resided with her two daughters.
In beautiful Paris, May Ingram was to live and study, hoping to realize
the dreams of her childhood, a first rank in grand opera.