The distinguishing characteristics of the residents of the "noble
Faubourg," as it was called at the time I am speaking of, were
indomitable pride and exclusiveness, with a narrow-minded ignorance of
all beyond the circle in which its members moved. In our day of
comparative equality and general civility, no one who has not arrived
at my age, and lived in Paris, can form any idea of the insolence and
hauteur of the higher classes of society in 1815. The glance of
unutterable disdain which the painted old duchesse of the Restoration
cast upon the youthful belles of the Chausse d'Antin, or the handsome
widows of Napoleon's army of heroes, defies description. Although often
responded to by a sarcastic sneer at the antediluvian charms of the
emigree, yet the look of contempt and disgust often sank deep into the
victim's heart, leaving there germs which showed themselves fifteen
years later in the revolution of 1830. In those days, this privileged
class was surrounded by a charmed circle, which no one could by any
means break through. Neither personal attractions nor mental
qualifications formed a passport into that exclusive society; to enter
which the small nobility of the provinces, or the nouveau riche, sighed
in vain. It would have been easier for a young Guardsman to make his
way into the Convent des Oiseaux--the fashionable convent in
Paris--than for any of these parvenus to force an entrance into the
Faubourg St. Germain.
One of the first acts which followed the Restoration of the Bourbons
was the grant of a pecuniary indemnity, amounting to a milliard, or
forty millions sterling, to be distributed amongst the emigres who had
lost fortunes or estates by their devotion to the royal family. They
had now, therefore, the means of receiving their friends, political
partisans, and foreigners, with more than usual splendour; and it must
be admitted that those who were thought worthy to be received were
treated like spoiled children, and petted and flattered to their
heart's content. In their own houses they were really des grands
seigneurs, and quite incapable of treating their invited guests with
the insolence that became the fashion among the Jewish parvenus during
the reign of the "citizen king." It is one thing to disdain those whom
one does not think worthy of our acquaintance, and another to insult
those whom one has thought proper to invite.
In their own houses, the inhabitants of the Faubourg St. Germain were
scrupulously polite: even if some enterprising foreigner should have
got in surreptitiously, as long as he was under his host's roof he was
treated with perfect courtesy; though ignominiously "cut" for the
remainder of his days. All this was not very amiable; but the
inhabitants of the "noble Faubourg" were never distinguished for their
amiability. Their best characteristics were the undaunted courage with
which they met death upon the scaffold, and the cheerfulness and
resignation with which they ate the bitter bread of exile. In general,
les grandes dames were not remarkable for their personal attractions,
nor for the elegance of their appearance or dress. The galaxy of
handsome women that formed the court of the Emperor had perhaps sent
beauty somewhat out of fashion; for the high-born ladies who took their
place were what we should call dowdy, and had nothing distinguished in
their appearance. Many of those who belonged to the most ancient
families were almost vulgar in outward form and feature: their manner
had a peculiar off-hand, easy style; and they particularly excelled in
setting down any unlucky person who had happened to offend them. Their
main object, at this time, was to stand well at court, therefore they
adapted themselves to circumstances, and could be devout with the
Dauphine and sceptical with Louis the Eighteenth.
The men of the aristocracy of the Revolution were less clever and
satirical than the women; but, on the other hand, they had far more of
the distinguished bearing and graceful urbanity of the grands seigneurs
of the olden time. The emigre nobles would have gazed with unutterable
horror at their degenerate descendants of the present day; but these
young, booted, bearded, cigar-smoking scions of la jeune France would
have run round their courteous, but, perhaps, rather slow ancestors, in
all the details of daily life.
The principal houses of reception in those days were those of the
Montmorencys, the Richelieus, Birons, Rohans, Goutaut Talleyrands,
Beauffremonts, Luxemburgs, Crillons, Choiseuls, Chabots, Fitzjames,
Grammonts, Latours de Pin, Coislins, and Maillys. Most of these
mansions are now occupied as public offices, or Jesuitical schools, or
by foreign Ministers. Those who are now supposed to be the great people
of the Faubourg St. Germain are nothing more than actors, who put on a
motley dress and appear before the public with the view of attracting
that attention to which they are not entitled; it is, therefore, an
error to suppose that the modern faubourg is anything like what it was
during the days of the Bourbons. At the present moment the only
practical aid the inhabitants of this locality can accord to the
legitimist cause in Europe, is by getting up subscriptions for the
Papacy, and such exiled Sovereigns as Francis II.; and, in order to do
so, they generally address themselves to married women and widows: in
fact, it is from the purses of susceptible females, many of whom are
English, that donations are obtained for legitimacy and Popery in
distress.
It is to be regretted that the most renowned and ancient families of
France have, in society and politics, yielded their places to another
class. That refinement of perception, sensitiveness, and gentle
bearing, which take three or four generations to produce, are no longer
the characteristics of Parisian society. The gilded saloons of the
Tuileries, and those magnificent hotels whose architects have not been
geniuses of art, but the children of Mammon, are occupied by the Jew
speculator, the political parasite, the clever schemer, and those
who--whilst following the fortune of the great man who rules
France--are nothing better than harpies. Most of these pretended
devotees of imperialism have, speaking figuratively, their portmanteaus
perpetually packed, ready for flight. The Emperor's good nature, as
regards his entourage, has never allowed him to get rid of men who,
perhaps, ought not to be seen so near the Imperial throne of France.
The weakest feature of Napoleon III.'s Government is the conspicuous
presence of a few persons in high places, whose cupidity is so
extravagant that, in order to gratify their lust of wealth, they would
not hesitate, indirectly at least, to risk a slur on the reputation of
their master and benefactor, in order to gain their own ends.