From what I have seen of the Parisians, I am convinced that they
require, if not a despot, at least an absolute monarch to reign over
them; but, leaving national character to shift for itself, I will go on
with what will interest you more--our own history. We have been much
pleased, interested, and instructed at Paris by all that we have seen of
the arts, have heard of science, and have enjoyed of society. The most
beautiful work of art I have seen at Paris, next to the façade of the
Louvre, is Canova's "Magdalene." The _prettiest_ things I have seen are
Madame Jacotot's miniatures, enamelled on porcelain--La Valliere, Madame
de Maintenon, Molière, all the celebrated people of that time; and next
to these, which are exquisite, I should name a porcelain table, with
medallions all round of the marshals of France, by Isabey, surrounding a
full-length of Napoleon in the centre. This table is generally supposed
to have been broken to pieces, but by the favour of a friend we saw it
in its place of concealment.
We have twice dined at the Duchesse Douairière d'Orleans' [Footnote:
Louise Marie Adelaide de Bourbon Condé, widow of Louis Philippe Joseph,
Duc d'Orléans, daughter of the Duc de Penthièvre. Born March 13, 1783.
Died June 23, 1821.] little Court at Ivry, and we shall bring Mr.
William Everard there, as you may recollect he knew her at Port Mahon.
She has a benevolent countenance, and good-natured, dignified manners,
and moves with the air of a princess. Her striking likeness to Louis
XIV. _favours_ this impression. One of her _dames d'honneur_, la
Marquise de Castoras, a Spaniard, is one of the most interesting persons
I have conversed with.
Yesterday William Everard went with us to the Chapelle Royale, where we
saw Monsieur, the Duchesse d'Angoulême and all the court. In the evening
we were at a _fete de village_ at La Celle, to which Madame de Vindé had
invited us, as like an Irish _pattern_ as possible, allowing for the
difference of dress and manner. The scene was in a beautiful grove on
each side of a romantic road leading through a valley. High wooded
banks: groups of gaily-dressed village belles and beaux seen through the
trees, in a quarry, in the sand-holes, everywhere where there was space
enough to form a quadrille. This grove was planted by Gabrielle
d'Estrées, for whom Henry IV. built a lodge near it. Fanny and Harriet
danced with two gentlemen who were of our party, and they all danced on
till dewfall, when the lamps--little glasses full of oil and a wick
suspended to the branches of the trees--were lighted, and we returned to
La Celle, where we ate ice and sat in a circle, playing _trouvez mon
ami_--mighty like "why, when, and where"--and then played loto till
twelve. Rose at six, had coffee, and drove back to Paris in the cool of
the delicious morning. To-day we are going to dine again at Neuilly with
the other Duchess of Orleans, daughter-in-law of the good old Duchess,
who by the bye spoke of Madame de Genlis in a true Christian spirit of
forgiveness, but in a whisper, and with a shake of her head, allowed
_qu'elle m'avait causée bien des chagrins._
Among some of the most agreeable people we have met are some Russians
and Poles. Madame Swetchine, a Russian, is one of the cleverest women I
ever heard converse. At a dinner at the young and pretty Princess
Potemkin's, on entering the dining-room, we saw only a round table
covered with fruit and sweetmeats, as if we had come in at the dessert;
and so it remained while, first, soup, then cutlets, then fish, one dish
at a time, ten or twelve one after another, were handed round, ending
with game, sweet things, and ice.
A few days ago I saw, at the Duchesse d'Escar's, Prince Rostopchin, the
man who burned Moscow, first setting fire to his own house. I never saw
a more striking Calmuck countenance. From his conversation as well as
from his actions, I should think him a man of great strength of
character. This _soirée_ at Madame d'Escar's was not on a public night,
when she _receives_ for the King, but one of those _petits comités_, as
they call their private parties, which I am told the English seldom see.
The conversation turned, of course, first on the Queen of England, then
on Lady Hester Stanhope, then on English _dandies._ It was excessively
entertaining to hear half a dozen Parisians all speaking at once, giving
their opinions of the English _dandies_ who have appeared at Paris,
describing their manners and imitating their gestures, and sometimes by
a single gesture giving an idea of the whole man; then discussing the
difference between the _petit marquis_ of the old French comedy and the
present dandy. After many attempts at definition, and calling in Madame
d'Arblay's Meadows, with whom they are perfectly acquainted, they came
to "d'ailleurs c'est inconcevable ça." And Madame d'Escar, herself the
cleverest person in the room, summed it up: "L'essentiel c'est que notre
dandy il veut plaire aux femmes s'il le peut; mais votre dandy Anglais
ne le voudrait, même s'il le pourrait!"
Pray tell Mrs. General Dillon I thank her for making us acquainted with
the amiable family of the Creeds, who have been exceedingly kind, and
who, I hope, like us as much as we like them. The Princess de Craon,
too, I like in another way, and Mademoiselle d'Alpy: they have
introduced us to the Mortemars--Madame de Sevigné's _Esprit de
Mortemar._
_To_ MISS RUXTON.