CHAPTER XIII.

_Breakfast.--Warmth of French Expression.--Rustic

Eloquence.--Curious Cause assigned for the late extraordinary

Frost.--Madame R----.--Paul I.--Tivoli.--Frescati._

In the morning we breakfasted in the drawing room, in which the

murderous myrmidons of Robespierre had been regaled. It was beautifully

situated. Its windows looked into a grove which Monsieur O---- had

formed of valuable american shrubs. His youngest daughter, a beautiful

little girl of about five years of age, rather hastily entered the room

with a pair of tame wood pigeons in her hands, which, in her eagerness

to bring to her father, she had too forcibly pressed, who very gently

told her, it was cruel to hurt her little favourites, more particularly

as they were a species of bird which was remarkable for its unoffending

innocence. The little creature burst into tears, "my little Harriet, why

do you weep?" said her father, kissing her white forehead, and pressing

her to him. "Why do you rebuke me?" said the little sufferer, "when you

know I love you so much that I could kiss your naked heart."

I mention this circumstance, to show how early in life, the french

children imbibe the most charming expressions, by which their more

mature conversation is rendered so peculiarly captivating. During our

repast, a circumstance occurred, which produced an unusual vivacity

amongst all the party, and afforded a specimen of the talent and

pleasantry of the french country people. The gardener entered, with the

paper, and letters of the day. Amongst them, was a letter which had been

opened, appeared very much disordered, and ought to have been received

upon the preceding day. Monsieur O----seemed much displeased, and called

upon his man to explain the matter. The gardener, who possessed a

countenance which beamed with animation and good humour, made a low bow,

and without appearing to be, in the least degree, disconcerted,

proceeded to unfold the affair, with the most playful ingenuity. He

stated that the dairy maid was very pretty, that she made every body in

love with her, and was very much in love herself, that she was

accustomed to receive a great number of billet doux, which, on account

of her education having been very far below her incomparable merits, she

was not able to understand, without the assistance of Nicolene, the

groom, who was her confident, and amanuensis; that on the day before, he

gave her the letter in question, with directions to carry it to his

master, that under the influence of that thoughtful absence which is

said to attend the advanced stages of the tender passion, she soon

afterwards conceived that it was no other than a customary homage from

one of her many admirers, upon which she committed the supposed

depositary of tender sighs and brittle vows, to the warm custody of her

glowing bosom, than which, the gardener, (who at this moment saw his

master's eyes were engaged by the _sullied_ appearance of the letter)

declared that nothing was fairer; he again proceeded, by observing,

that in the course of the preceding evening, as she was stooping to

adjust her stool in the meadow, the cow kicked, and the epistle tumbled

into the milk pail; that she afterwards dried it by the kitchen fire,

and gave it, for the reasons before assigned, to her confidential friend

to explain to her, who soon discovered it to be a letter of business,

addressed to his master, instead of an impassioned love ditty for the

tender Marie; that, finally, all the principals concerned in this

unhappy affair were overwhelmed with distress, on account of the sad

disaster, and that the kitchen had lost all its vivacity ever since. No

advocate could have pleaded more eloquently. All the family, from its

chief, to little Harriet, whose tears were not yet dried, were in a

continued fit of laughing. The gardener, whose face very largely partook

of the gaiety which he had so successfully excited, was commissioned, by

his amiable master, to tell the distressed dairy maid, that love always

carried his pardon in his hand for all his offences, and that he

cheerfully forgave her, but directed the gardener, to prevent a

recurrence of similar accidents, not again to trust her with his letters

until the tender disease was radically removed. The rustic orator

gracefully bowed; and left us to finish our breakfast with increased

good humour, and to carry forgiveness and consolation to poor Marie and

all her condoling friends in the kitchen. Before we had completed our

repast, a little deformed elderly lady made her appearance, whose

religion had been shaken by the revolution, into a crazy and gloomy

superstition. She had scarcely seated herself, before she began a very

rapid and voluble comment upon the change of the times, and the

devastations which the late extraordinary frost had committed upon the

vineyards of France, which she positively asserted, with the confidence

which only the arrival of her tutelar saint with the intelligence ought

to have inspired, was sent as an _appropriate_ judgment upon the

republic, to punish it, for suffering the ladies of Paris to go so

thinly clothed. Monsieur O---- heard her very patiently throughout, and

then observed, that the ways of Heaven were inscrutable, that human

ingenuity was baffled, in attempting to draw inferences from its

visitations, and that it did not appear to him at least, that an offence

which was assuredly calculated to inspire sensations of warmth and

tenderness, was _appropriately_ punished by a chastisement of an

_opposite_ tendency, to which he added, that some moralists who indulged

in an endeavour to connect causes and effects, might think it rather

incompatible with their notions of eternal equity, to endeavour to

clothe the ladies, by stripping the land to nakedness--here the old lady

could not help smiling. Her amicable adversary pursued the advantage

which his pleasantry had produced, by informing her, that

prognostications had been for a long period discountenanced, and that

formerly when the ancient augurs, after the ceremonies of their

successful illusions were over, met each other by accident in the

street, impressed by the ridiculous remembrance of their impositions,

they could not help laughing in each other's faces. Madame V----laughed

too; upon which Monsieur O----, very good humouredly told her, that as a

soothsayer, she certainly would not have smiled, unless she intended to

retire for ever from the office. Previous to my taking leave of

Monsieur O----and his charming family, we walked in the gardens, where

our conversation turned upon the extraordinary genius, who in the

character of first consul of the french, unites a force, and extent of

sway unknown to the kings of France, from their first appearance, to the

final extinction of monarchy.

He told me that he had the honour of knowing him with intimacy from his

youth, and extolled, with high eulogy, his splendid abilities, and the

great services which he had rendered France. He also related several

amiable anecdotes of the minister Talleyrand, who, when in America, had

lived with him a considerable time under the same roof.

At length the cabriolet, which was to bear me from this little Paradise,

approached the gate, and the moment arrived when I was to part with one

of the most charming families to be found in the bosom of the republic.

As Monsieur O---- pressed me by one hand, and placed that of his little

Harriet in my other, a tear of exquisite tenderness rolled down his

cheek, it seemed to express that we should never meet again on this side

the grave. Excellent being! if it must be so, if wasting and unsparing

sickness is destined to tear thee ere long from those who delight thine

eye, and soothe thine heart in the midst of its sorrows, may the angel

of peace smile upon thee in thy last moments, and bear thy mild and

generous, and patient spirit, to the realms of eternal repose! Adieu!

dear family of la Reine.

Upon my return to Paris, I proceeded to the hotel of Monsieur R----.

Curiosity led me to view the house, and the celebrated bed of his lady,

who was then in London.

The little vanities and eccentricities of this elegant and hospitable

woman, will find immediate forgiveness, when it is known that she is now

very young, and was married, when a spoiled child of the age of

fourteen, to her present husband. She is one of David's most

enthusiastic admirers, and has carried the rage for grecian undress, to

an extremity, which, even in the capital, left her without a follower.

In the public walks of the Champs Elysées, she one evening presented

herself in a dress which almost rivalled the robes of Paradise; the

parisians, who are remarkable for their politeness to women, and are not

remarkable for scrupulous sentiments of delicacy, were so displeased

with her appearance, that they made a lane to the entrance for her, and

expelled the modern Eve from the Elysian Fields, not with a "flaming

sword of wrath," but with hisses softly uttered, and by gentle tokens of

polite disapprobation. She tells her friends, that her cabinet is

crowded with letters of the most impassioned love, from persons of the

first fame, distinction, and opulence. In her parties, when conversation

begins to pause, she introduces some of these melting epistles, which

she is said to read with a bewitching pathos, and never fails to close

the fond recital by expressions of the tenderest pity for the sufferings

of their ill-starred authors. She has declared, that some of her lovers

equal the Belvidere Apollo in beauty, but that she never has yet seen

that being, who was perfect enough to be entitled to the possession of

her affections. Do not smile. Madame Ris a disciple of Diana, even

slander pays incessant homage to her chastity. Rumour has whispered, in

every corner of Paris, that her husband is only admitted to the honour

of supplying the finances of her splendid and costly establishment.

Madame R---- has not yet produced any of the beautiful and eloquent

arguments of Cornelia, to disprove the strange assertion. Her chamber,

which constitutes one of the sights of Paris, and which, after what has

been just mentioned, may be justly considered, in or out of France, as a

great curiosity, is fitted up in a style of considerable taste, and even

magnificence. The bed upon which this charming statue reposes, is a

superb sofa, raised upon a pedestal, the ascent to which is by a flight

of cedar steps, on each side are altars, on which are placed Herculaneum

vases of flowers, and a large antique lamp of gold; the back of the bed

is formed by an immense pier glass, and the curtains, which are of the

most costly muslin, festooned with golden tassels, descend in beautiful

drapery from a floral crown of gold. It is said that the late emperor of

Russia, after the laborious and successful diplomatic intrigues of

messrs. Talleyrand and Sieyes, and a certain lady, became enamoured, by

description, with the immaculate goddess of Mont Blanc, and that he sent

confidential commissioners to Paris, to report her daily dress, and to

order copies of her furniture.

The story may be believed, when the hero of it was well known to be

fully qualified for one of the deepest dungeons of a madhouse. I hope,

for the sake of society, and the repose of the world, that the rest of

Madame R----'s admirers have not united to their passion the bewildered

imagination, which fatally distinguished, and finally closed the career

of her imperial lover.

Mr. R---- is very polite to the english, and his letters ensure the

greatest attention wherever they are produced.

From Mont Blanc I proceeded to the Hotel de Caramand, the residence of

the british ambassador, to whom I had a letter of introduction, from a

particular friend of his, and who received me with great politeness. His

apartments were handsome, and looked into some beautiful gardens.

Amongst the english, who were at this time in Paris, a little prejudice

existed against the representative of the british monarch, from a

reason, which within the jurisdiction of the lord mayor of London and of

most corporate towns in England, will be considered to carry

considerable weight. The envoy did not celebrate the late birthday of

his sovereign by a jolly, and convivial dinner. The fact was, Mr. M----,

who by the sudden return of Mr. J----, became unexpectedly invested with

the dignity of an ambassador, was in constant expectation of being

recalled, to make room for the intended appointment of lord W---- to the

consular court, in consequence of which, he had not prepared for the

display of those splendid hospitalities, which, on such occasions,

always distinguish the table of a british house of embassy.

On a Sunday evening, I went with a party to Tivoli, a favourite place of

amusement with the parisians. At the entrance we found, as at all the

public places, a guard of horse, and foot. The admission is twenty

sols. The evening was very fine. We passed immense crowds of people, who

were flocking to the same place. Amongst them were many elegant, well

dressed women, wholly unattended by gentlemen, a circumstance by no

means unusual in Paris. This place seemed to be raised by the magic

touch of enchantment. We entered upon gravelled walks, which were cut

through little winding, and intersecting hillocks of box; those which

formed the sides were surmounted by orange trees, which presented a

beautiful colonnade; immediately after we had passed them, we entered an

elegant treillage of honeysuckles, roses, and eglantine, which formed

the grand entrance to the garden. Here a most animated scene of

festivity opened upon us. On one side were rope dancers, people riding

at the ring, groups of persons playing at shuttlecock, which seemed to

be the favourite, and I may add, the most ridiculous diversion; on the

other side, were dancers, tumblers, mountebanks, and parties, all with

gay countenances, seated in little bowers enjoying lemonade, and ices.

In the centre as we advanced, were about three hundred people, who were

dancing the favourite waltz. This dance was brought from Germany, where,

_from its nature_, the partners are always engaged lovers; but the

french, who think that nothing can be blamable which is susceptible of

elegance, have introduced the german dance, without adhering to the

german regulation. The attitudes of the waltz are very graceful, but

they would not altogether accord with english female notions of

delicacy. At a late fashionable parisian ball, a gentleman present was

requested by the lady of the house, to waltz with a friend of hers, who

was without a partner. The person of this neglected fair, was a little

inclined to the meagre. The gallant, without the least embarrassment,

declined, observing, "Ah! ma chere Madame qu'exigez vous de moi, ne

savez vous pas qu'elle n'a point de sein?" In the middle of the platform

of the dancers, a very fine full band was playing. At the end of this

raised stage, a very capacious indian marquee was erected, which was

beautifully illuminated with variegated lamps, and under its broad

canopy, a large concourse of people was seated, some were enjoying

conversation, some were playing at buillotte, drinking coffee, &c.;

behind this building, was a noble corinthian temple, from the doors of

which, were covered trellis walks, leading to spacious gardens, which

were formed to display the different tastes of the english, french, and

dutch nations, whose respective names they bore. These gardens are

intersected by little canals, upon which several persons were amusing

themselves with the diversion of canoe racing. The whole was illuminated

by large patent reflecting lamps, which shed a lustre almost as

brilliant as the day. A few english were present, amongst them were the

duchess of Cumberland, and a few other ladies. These gardens, previous

to the revolution, were the property of a wealthy minister of France,

who, it is said, expended near one hundred thousand pounds sterling, in

bringing them to perfection, which he just saw accomplished, when he

closed his eyes upon the scaffold. The nation became their next

proprietor, who sold them for a large sum of money to their present

owners.

From this place we went to Frescati, which is the promenade of the first

beauty, and fashion of Paris, who generally assemble about half past ten

o'clock, after the opera is concluded. No admission money is required,

but singular as it may seem, no improper intruder has yet appeared, a

circumstance which may be accounted for by the awe which well bred

society ever maintains over vulgarity. Frescati is situated in the

Italian Boulevard; was formerly the residence of a nobleman of large

fortune, and has also undergone the usual transition of revolutionary

confiscation. The streets leading to it were filled with carriages.

After ascending a flight of steps, from a handsome court yard, we

entered a beautiful hall, which was lined with pier glasses, and

decorated with festoons of artificial flowers, at the end of it was a

fine statue of Venus de Medicis. On one side of this image was an arch,

which led into a suite of six magnificent apartments, which were

superbly gilt, painted, and also covered with pier glasses, and lustres

of fine diamond cut glass, which latter, looked like so many little

glittering cascades. Each room was in a blaze of light, and filled with

parties, who were taking ices, or drinking coffee. Each room

communicated with the others, by arches, or folding doors of mirrors.

The garden is small, but very tastefully disposed. It is composed of

three walks, which are lined with orange and acacia trees, and vases of

roses. At the end is a tower mounted on a rock, temples, and rustic

bridges; and on each side of the walks, are little labyrinth bowers. On

the side next to the Boulevard, is a terrace which commands the whole

scene, is lined on each side with beautiful vases of flowers, and is

terminated at each end by alcoves, which are lined with mirrors. Here in

the course of an hour, the astonished, and admiring stranger may see

near three thousand females of the first beauty and distinction in

Paris, whose cheeks are no longer disfigured by the corrosion of rouge,

and who, by their symmetry and grace, would induce him to believe, that

the loveliest figures of Greece, in her proudest era, were revived, and

moving before him.

The stranger in France · 第 13 / 21 章