To my surprise and pleasure, I find that a usage exists at Paris which
I have nowhere else met with, namely, that of letting out rich and fine
furniture by the quarter, half, or whole year, in any quantity required
for even the largest establishment, and on the shortest notice.
I feared that we should be compelled to buy furniture, or else to put
up with an inferior sort, little imagining that the most costly can be
procured on hire, and even a large mansion made ready for the reception
of a family in forty-eight hours. This is really like Aladdin's lamp,
and is a usage that merits being adopted in all capitals.
We have made an arrangement, that if we decide on remaining in Paris
more than a year, and wish to purchase the furniture, the sum agreed to
be paid for the year's hire is to be allowed in the purchase-money,
which is to be named when the inventory is made out.
We saw the house for the first time yesterday; engaged it to-day for a
year; to-morrow, the upholsterer will commence placing the furniture in
it; and to-morrow night we are to sleep in it. This is surely being
very expeditious, and saves a world of trouble as well as of wailing.
Spent last evening at Madame Craufurd's. Met there the Prince and
Princesse Castelcicala, with their daughter, who is a very handsome
woman. The Prince was a long time Ambassador from Naples at the Court
of St. James, and he now fills the same station at that of France.
The Princesse is sister to our friend Prince Ischetella at Naples, and,
like all her country-women, appears sensible and unaffected. She and
Mademoiselle Dorotea speak English perfectly well, and profess a great
liking to England and its inhabitants. The Dowager Lady Hawarden, the
Marquise de Brehan, the Baroness d'Etlingen, Madame d'Ocaris, Lady
Barbara Craufurd, and Lady Combermere, composed the rest of the female
portion of the party.
Lady Hawarden has been very pretty: what a melancholy phrase is this
same _has been_! The Marquise de Brehan is still a very fine woman;
Lady Combermere is very agreeable, and sings with great expression; and
the rest of the ladies, always excepting Lady Barbara Craufurd, who is
very pretty, were very much like most other ladies of a certain time of
life--addicted to silks and blondes, and well aware of their relative
prices.
Madame Craufurd is very amusing. With all the _naïveté_ of a child, she
possesses a quick perception of character and a freshness of feeling
rarely found in a person of her advanced age, and her observations are
full of originality.
The tone of society at Paris is very agreeable. Literature, the fine
arts, and the general occurrences of the day, furnish the topics for
conversation, from which ill-natured remarks are exploded. A
ceremoniousness of manner, reminding one of _la Vieille Cour_, and
probably rendered _à la mode_ by the restoration of the Bourbons,
prevails; as well as a strict observance of deferential respect from
the men towards the women, while these last seem to assume that
superiority accorded to them in manner, if not entertained in fact, by
the sterner sex.
The attention paid by young men to old women in Parisian society is
very edifying, and any breach of it would be esteemed nothing short of
a crime. This attention is net evinced by any flattery, except the most
delicate--a profound silence when these belles of other days recount
anecdotes of their own times, or comment on the occurrences of ours, or
by an alacrity to perform the little services of picking up a fallen
_mouchoir de poche, bouquet_, or fan, placing a shawl, or handing to a
carriage.
If flirtations exist at Paris, they certainly are not exhibited in
public; and those between whom they are supposed to be established
observe a ceremonious decorum towards each other, well calculated to
throw discredit on the supposition. This appearance of reserve may be
termed hypocrisy; nevertheless, even the semblance of propriety is
advantageous to the interests of society; and the entire freedom from
those marked attentions, engrossing conversations, and from that
familiarity of manner often permitted in England, without even a
thought of evil on the part of the women who permit these
indiscretions, leaves to Parisian circles an air of greater dignity and
decorum, although I am not disposed to admit that the persons who
compose them really possess more dignity or decorum than my
compatriots.
Count Charles de Mornay was presented to me to-day. Having heard of him
only as--
"The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
The observed of all observers,"
I was agreeably surprised to find him one of the most witty,
well-informed, and agreeable young men I have ever seen. Gay without
levity, well-read without pedantry, and good-looking without vanity. Of
how few young men of fashion could this be said! But I am persuaded
that Count Charles de Mornay is made to be something better than a mere
man of fashion.
Spent all the morning in the Hôtel Ney, superintending the placing of
the furniture. There is nothing so like the magicians we read of as
Parisian upholsterers; for no sooner have they entered a house, than,
as if touched by the hand of the enchanter, it assumes a totally
different aspect. I could hardly believe my eyes when I entered our new
dwelling, to-day.
Already were the carpets--and such carpets, too--laid down on the
_salons_; the curtains were hung; _consoles_, sofas, tables, and chairs
placed, and lustres suspended. In short, the rooms looked perfectly
habitable.
The principal drawing-room has a carpet of dark crimson with a
gold-coloured border, on which is a wreath of flowers that looks as if
newly culled from the garden, so rich, varied, and bright are their
hues. The curtains are of crimson satin, with embossed borders of
gold-colour; and the sofas, _bergères, fauteuils_, and chairs, richly
carved and gilt, are covered with satin to correspond with the
curtains.
Gilt _consoles_, and _chiffonnières_, with white marble tops, are
placed wherever they could be disposed; and, on the chimney pieces, are
fine _pendules_.
The next drawing-room, which I have appropriated as my sitting-room, is
furnished with blue satin, with rich white flowers. It has a carpet of
a chocolate-coloured ground with a blue border, round which is a wreath
of bright flowers, and carved and gilt sofas, _bergères_, and
_fauteuils_, covered with blue satin like the curtains.
The recess we have lined with fluted blue silk, with a large mirror
placed in the centre of it, and five beautiful buhl cabinets around, on
which I intend to dispose all my treasures of old _Sèvre_ china, and
ruby glass.
I was told by the upholsterer, that he had pledged himself to _milord_
that _miladi_ was not to see her _chambre à coucher_, or dressing-room,
until they were furnished. This I well knew was some scheme laid by
Lord B. to surprise me, for he delights in such plans.
He will not tell me what is doing in the rooms, and refuses all my
entreaties to enter them, but shakes his head, and says he _thinks_ I
will be pleased when I see them; and so I think, too, for the only
complaint I ever have to make of his taste is its too great
splendour--a proof of which he gave me when I went to Mountjoy Forest
on my marriage, and found my private sitting-room hung with crimson
Genoa silk velvet, trimmed with gold bullion fringe, and all the
furniture of equal richness--a richness that was only suited to a state
room in a palace.
We feel like children with a new plaything, in our beautiful house; but
how, after it, shall we ever be able to reconcile ourselves to the
comparatively dingy rooms in St. James's Square, which no furniture or
decoration could render any thing like the Hôtel Ney?
The Duc and Duchesse de Guiche leave Paris, to my great regret, in a
few days, and will be absent six weeks. He is to command the encampment
at Luneville, and she is to do the honours--giving dinners, balls,
concerts, and soirées, to the ladies who accompany their lords to "the
tented field," and to the numerous visitors who resort to see it. They
have invited us to go to them, but we cannot accept their kindness.
They are
"On hospitable thoughts intent,"
and will, I doubt not, conciliate the esteem of all with whom they come
in contact.
He is so well bred, that the men pardon his superiority both of person
and manner; and she is so warm-hearted and amiable, that the women,
with a few exceptions, forgive her rare beauty. How we shall miss them,
and the dear children, too!
Drove in the Bois de Boulogne yesterday, with the Duchesse de Guiche:
met my old acquaintance, Lord Yarmouth, who is as amusing and original
as ever.
He has great natural talent and knowledge of the world, but uses both
to little purpose, save to laugh at its slaves. He might be any thing
he chose, but he is too indolent for exertion, and seems to think _le
jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle_. He is one of the many clever people
spoilt by being born to a great fortune and high rank, advantages which
exclude the necessity of exercising the talents he possesses.
It is, however, no trifling merit, that born to immense wealth and high
station, he should he wholly free from arrogance, or ostentation.
At length, the secret is out, the doors of my _chambre à coucher_ and
dressing-room are opened, and I am delighted with both. The whole
fitting up is in exquisite taste, and, as usual, when my most gallant
of all gallant husbands that it ever fell to the happy lot of woman to
possess, interferes, no expense has been spared.
The bed, which is silvered, instead of gilt, rests on the backs of two
large silver swans, so exquisitely sculptured that every feather is in
alto-relievo, and looks nearly as fleecy as those of the living bird.
The recess in which it is placed is lined with white fluted silk,
bordered with blue embossed lace; and from the columns that support the
frieze of the recess, pale blue silk curtains, lined with white, are
hung, which, when drawn, conceal the recess altogether.
The window curtain is of pale blue silk, with embroidered muslin
curtains, trimmed with lace inside them, and have borders of blue and
white lace to match those of the recess.
A silvered sofa has been made to fit the side of the room opposite the
fire-place, near to which stands a most inviting _bergère_. An
_ècritoire_ occupies one panel, a bookstand the other, and a rich
coffer for jewels forms a pendant to a similar one for lace, or India
shawls.
A carpel of uncut pile, of a pale blue, a silver lamp, and a Psyche
glass, the ornaments silvered to correspond with the decorations of the
chamber, complete the furniture. The hangings of the dressing-room are
of blue silk, covered with lace, and trimmed with rich frills of the
same material, as are also the dressing-stools and _chaise longue_, and
the carpet and lamp are similar to those of the bed-room.
A toilette table stands before the window, and small _jardinières_ are
placed in front of each panel of looking-glass, but so low as not to
impede a full view of the person dressing in this beautiful little
sanctuary.
The _salle de bain_ is draped with white muslin trimmed with lace, and
the sofa and _bergère_ are covered with the same. The bath is of white
marble, inserted in the floor, with which its surface is level. On the
ceiling over it, is a painting of Flora scattering flowers with one
hand while from the other is suspended an alabaster lamp, in the form
of a lotos.
A more tasteful or elegant suite of apartments cannot be imagined; and
all this perfection of furniture has been completed in three days! Lord
B. has all the merit of the taste, and the upholsterer that of the
rapidity and excellence of the execution.
The effect of the whole suite is chastely beautiful; and a queen could
desire nothing better for her own private apartments. Few queens, most
probably, ever had such tasteful ones.
Our kind friend, Charles Mills, has arrived from Rome,--amiable and
agreeable as ever. He dined with us yesterday, and we talked over the
pleasant days spent in the Vigna Palatina, his beautiful villa.
Breakfasted to-day in the Rue d'Anjou, a take-leave repast given to the
Duc and Duchesse de Guiche by Madame Craufurd. Lady Barbara and Colonel
Craufurd were of the party, which was the only _triste_ one I have seen
in that house. The Duc de Gramont was there, and joined in the regret
we all felt at seeing our dear friends drive away.
It was touching to behold Madame Craufurd, kissing again and again her
grandchildren and great-grandchildren, the tears streaming down her
cheeks, and the venerable Duc de Gramont, scarcely less moved,
embracing his son and daughter-in-law, and exhorting the latter to take
care of her health, while the dear little Ida, his granddaughter, not
yet two years old, patted his cheeks, and smiled in his face.
It is truly delightful to witness the warm affection that subsists
between relatives in France, and the dutiful and respectful attention
paid by children to their parents. In no instance have I seen this more
strongly exemplified than in the Duc and Duchesse de Guiche, whose
unceasing tenderness towards the good Duc de Gramont not only makes his
happiness, but is gratifying to all who behold it, as is also their
conduct to Madame Craufurd.
I wish the encampment was over, and those dear friends back again.