We arrived here in good time. La Celle [Footnote: La Celle St. Cloud, built by Bachelier, first valet de chambre of Louis XIV., afterwards sold to Madame de Pompadour, who sold it again in two years.] is as old as Clotwold, the son of Clovis, who came here to make a hermitage for himself--La Cellule. Wonderfully changed and enlarged, it became the residence of Madame de Pompadour. The rooms are wainscotted: very large _croissees_ open upon shrubberies, with rose acacias and rhododendrons in profuse flower: the garden is surrounded by lime-trees thick and high, and cut, like the beech-walk at Collon, at the end into arches through the foliage, and the stems left so as to form rows of pillars, through which you see, on one side, fine views of lawn and distant country, while on the other the lime-grove is continued in arcades, eight or nine trees deep.
To each bedroom and dressing-room there are little dens of closets and ante-chambers, which must have seen many strange exits and entrances in their day. In one of these, ten feet by six, the white wainscot--now very yellow--is painted in gray, with monkeys in men"s and women"s clothes in groups in compartments, the most grotesque figures you can imagine. I have an idea of having read of this cabinet of monkeys, and having heard that the princ.i.p.al monkey who figures in it was some real personage.
The situation of La Celle is beautiful, and the country about it. The grounds, terraces, orchards, farmyard, dairy, etc., would lead me too far, so I shall only note that, to preserve the hayrick from the incursion of rats, the feet of the stand, which is higher than that in our back yard, are not only slated, but at the part next the hay covered with panes of gla.s.s: this defies climbing reptiles.
M. and Madame de Vinde are exactly what you remember them; and her grand-daughter, Beatrice, the little girl you may remember, is as kind to f.a.n.n.y and Harriet as M. and Madame de Vinde were to their sister.
Mr. Hutton wrote to me about a certain Count Brennar, a German or Hungarian--talents, youth, fortune--a.s.suring me that this transcendental Count had a great desire to be acquainted with us. I fell to work with Madame Cuvier, with whom I knew he was acquainted, and he met us at breakfast at Cuvier"s; and I asked p.r.o.ny if M. and Madame de Vinde would allow me to ask the Count to come here; and so yesterday p.r.o.ny came to dinner, and the Count at dessert, and he ate cold cutlets and good salad, and all was right; and whenever any of our family go to Vienna, he gave me and mine, or yours, a most pressing invitation thither--which will never be any trouble to him.
I have corrected before breakfast here all of the second volume of _Rosamond_, [Footnote: The sequel, or last part of _Rosamund._] which accompanies this letter. We have coffee brought to us in our rooms about eight o"clock, and the family a.s.semble at breakfast in the dining-room about ten: this breakfast has consisted of mackerel stewed in oil; cutlets; eggs, boiled and poached, _au jus_; peas stewed; lettuce stewed, and rolled up like sausages; radishes; salad; stewed prunes; preserved gooseberries; chocolate biscuits; apricot biscuits--that is to say, a kind of flat tartlet, sweetmeat between paste; finishing with coffee. There are sugar-tongs in this house, which I have seen nowhere else except at Madame Gautier"s. Salt-spoons never to be seen, so do not be surprised at seeing me take salt and sugar in the natural way when I come back.
Carriages come round about twelve, and we drive about seeing places in the neighbourhood--afterwards go to our own rooms or to the _salon_, or play billiards or chess. Dinner is at half-past five; no luncheon and no dressing for dinner. I will describe one dinner--Bouilli de boeuf--large piece in the middle, and all the other dishes round it--rotie de mouton--ris de veau pique--maquereaux--pates de cervelle--salad. 2nd service; ?ufs aux jus--pet.i.ts pois--lettuce stewed--gateaux de confitures--prunes. Dessert; gateaux, cerises, confiture d"abricot et de groseille.
Hands are washed at the side-table; coffee is in the saloon: men and women all gathering round the table as of yore. But I should observe, that a great change has taken place; the men huddle together now in France as they used to do in England, talking politics with their backs to the women in a corner, or even in the middle of the room, without minding them in the least, and the ladies complain and look very disconsolate, and many ask, "If this be Paris?" and others scream _ultra_ nonsense or _liberal_ nonsense, to make themselves of consequence and to attract the attention of the gentlemen.
But to go on with the history of our day. After coffee, Madame de Vinde sits down at a round table in the middle of the room, and out of a work-basket, which is just the shape of an antediluvian work-basket of mine, made of orange-paper and pasteboard, which lived long in the garret, she takes her tapestry work: a chair-cover of which she works the little blue flowers, and M. Morel de Vinde, pair de France, ancien Conseiller de Parlement, etc., does the ground! He has had a cold, and wears a black silk handkerchief on his head and a hat over it in the house; three waistcoats, two coats, and a spencer over all. Madame de Vinde and I talk, and the young people play billiards.
When it grows duskish we all migrate at a signal from Madame de Vinde, "Allons, nous pa.s.serons chez M. de Vinde;" so we all cross the billiard-room and dining-room, and strike off by an odd pa.s.sage into M.
de Vinde"s study, where, almost in the fire, we sit round a small table playing a game called Loto, with different-coloured pegs and collars for these pegs, and whoever knows the game of Loto will understand what it is, and those who have never heard of it must wait till I come home to make them understand it. At half-past ten to bed; a dozen small round silver-handled candlesticks, bougeoirs, with wax candles, ready for us.
Who dares to say French country-houses have no comforts? Let all such henceforward except La Celle.
The three first days we were here M. de p.r.o.ny and Count de Brennar were the only guests, the Count only for one day. M. de p.r.o.ny is enough without any other person to keep the most active mind in conversation of all sorts, scientific, literary, humorous. He is less changed than any of our friends. His humour and good-humour are really delightful; he is, as Madame de Vinde says, the most harmless good creature that ever existed; and he has had sense enough to stick to science and keep clear of politics, always pleading "qu"il n"etait bon qu"a cela." He accompanied us in our morning excursions to Malmaison and St. Germain.
Malmaison was Josephine"s, and is still Beauharnais"s property, but is now occupied only by his steward. The place is very pretty--profusion of rhododendrons, as under-wood in the groves, on the gra.s.s, beside the rivers, everywhere, and in the most luxuriant flower. Poor Josephine! Do you remember Dr. Marcet telling us that when he breakfasted with her, she said, pointing to her flowers: "These are my subjects; I try to make them happy."
The grounds are admirably well taken care of, but the solitude and silence and the continual reference to the dead were strikingly melancholy, even in the midst of sunshine and flowers, and the song of nightingales. In one pond we saw swimming in graceful desolate dignity two black swans, which, as rare birds, were once great favourites. Now they curve their necks of ebony in vain.
The grounds are altogether very small, and so is the house, but fitted up with exquisite taste. In the saloon is the most elegant white marble chimney-piece my eyes ever did or ever will behold, a present from the Pope to Beauharnais. The finest pictures have been taken from the gallery; the most striking that remains is one of General Dessain, reading a letter, with a calm and absorbed countenance--two mamelukes eagerly examining his countenance. In the finely parqueted floor great holes appear; the places from which fine statues of Canova"s were, as the steward told us, dragged up for the Emperor of Russia. This the man told under his breath, speaking of his master and of the armies without distinctly naming any person, as John Langan used to talk of the robbles (rebels). You may imagine the feelings which made us walk in absolute silence through the library, which was formerly Napoleon"s: the gilt N"s and J"s still in the arches of the ceiling: busts and portraits all round--that of Josephine admirable.
At St. Germain, that vast palace which has been of late a barrack for the English army, our female guide was exceedingly well informed; indeed, Francis I., Henry IV., Mary de Medicis, Louis XIV., and Madame de la Valliere seem to have been her very intimate acquaintances. She was in all their secrets: showed us Madame de la Valliere"s room, poor soul! all gilt--the gilding of her woe. This gilding, by accident, escaped the revolutionary destruction. In the high gilt dome of this room, the guide showed us the trap-door through which Louis XIV. used to come down. How they managed it I don"t well know: it must have been a perilous operation, the room is so high. But my guide, who I am clear saw him do it, a.s.sured me his Majesty came down very easily in his arm-chair; and as she had great keys in her hand, and is as large nearly as Mrs. Liddy, I did not hazard a contradiction or doubt.
Did you know that it was p.r.o.ny who built the Pont Louis XVI.? Perronet was then eighty-four, and p.r.o.ny worked under him. One night, when he had supped at Madame de Vinde"s, he went to look at his bridge, when he saw--but I have not time to tell you that story.
During Buonaparte"s Spanish War he employed p.r.o.ny to make logarithm, astronomical, and nautical tables on a magnificent scale. p.r.o.ny found that to execute what was required would take him and all the philosophers of France a hundred and fifty years. He was very unhappy, having to do with a despot who _would_ have his will executed, when the first volume of Smith"s _Wealth of Nations_ fell into his hands. He opened on the division of Labour, our favourite pin-making: "Ha, ha!
voila mon affaire; je ferai mes calcules comme on fait les epingles!"
And he divided the labour among two hundred men, who knew no more than the simple rules of arithmetic, whom he a.s.sembled in one large building, and there these men-machines worked on, and the tables are now complete.
PARIS,
_June 9._
All is quiet here now, but while we were in the country there have been disturbances. Be a.s.sured that, if there is any danger, we shall decamp for Geneva.
_June 22._
We have spent a day and a half delightfully with M. and Madame Mole at Champlatreux, their beautiful country place. He is very sensible, and she very obliging. Madame de Ventimille was there, and very agreeable and kind, also Madame de Nansouti and Madame de Bezancourt, grand-daughter of Madame d"Hout.i.tot: all remember you most kindly.
_June 24._
You ask for Dupont de Fougeres--alas! he has been dead some years. I went to see Camille Jordan, who is ill, and unable to leave his sofa; but he is fatter and better-looking than when we knew him--no alteration but for the better. He has got rid of all that might be thought a little affected--his vivacity being elevated into energy, and his politeness into benevolence; his pretty little good wife was sitting beside him.
Everybody, of every degree of rank or talent, who has read the _Memoirs_, speaks of them in the most gratifying and delightful manner.
Those who have fixed on individual circ.u.mstances have always fixed on those which we should have considered as most curious. Mr. Malthus this morning spoke most highly of it, and of its useful tendency both in a public and private light. Much as I dreaded hearing it spoken of, all I have yet heard has been what best compensates for all the anxiety I have felt.
_To_ MRS. MARY AND MRS. CHARLOTTE SNEYD.
PARIS, _July 7, 1820._
It is a greater refreshment to me, my dearest Aunt Mary and Charlotte, to have a quiet half hour in which to write to you, while f.a.n.n.y and Harriet are practising with M. Deschamp, their dancing-master, in the next room.
We had a delightful breakfast at Degerando"s, in a room hung round with some very valuable pictures: one in particular, which was sent to Degerando by the town of Pescia, as a proof of grat.i.tude for his conduct at the time when he was in Italy under Buonaparte--sent to him after he was no longer in power. There was an Italian gentleman, Marchese Ridolfi, of large fortune and benevolent mind, intent on improving his people. We also met Madame de Villette, Voltaire"s "_belle et bonne_:"
she has still some remains of beauty, and great appearance of good-humour. It was delightful to hear her speak of Voltaire with the enthusiasm of affection, and with tears in her eyes beseeching us not to believe the hundred misrepresentations we may have heard, but to trust her, the person who had lived with him long, and who knew him best and last. After breakfast she took us to her house, where Voltaire had lived, and where we saw his chair and his writing desk turning on a pivot on the arm of the chair: his statue smiling, keen-eyed, and emaciated, said to be a perfect resemblance. In one of the hands hung the brown and withered crown of bays, placed on his head when he appeared the last time at the Theatre Francais. Madame de Villette showed us some of his letters--one to his steward, about sheep, etc., ending with, "Let there be no drinking, no rioting, no beating of your wife." The most precious relic in this room of Voltaire"s is a little piece carved in wood by an untaught genius, and sent to Voltaire by some peasants, as a proof of grat.i.tude. It represents him sitting, listening to a family of poor peasants, who are pleading their cause: it is excellent.
Two of the Miss Lawrences are at Paris. They are very sensible, excellent women. They brought a letter from Miss Carr, begging me to see them; and I hope I have had some little opportunity of obliging them, for which they are a thousand times more greatful than I deserve.
Indeed, next to the delight of seeing my sisters so justly appreciated and so happy at Paris, my greatest pleasure has been in the power of introducing to each other people who longed to meet, but could not contrive it before. We took Miss Lawrence to one of the great schools established here on the Lancasterian principles, and we also took her to hear a man lecture upon the mode of teaching arithmetic and geometry which my father has recommended in _Practical Education_: the sight of the little cubes was at once gratifying and painful.
I have just heard from Hunter that he is printing _Rosamond_, and that my friends at home will correct the proofs for me: G.o.d bless them! We spent a very pleasant day at dear Madame de Roquefeuille"s, at Versailles; and, returning, we paid a _latish_ visit to the Princess Potemkin. What a contrast the tone of conversation and the whole of the society from that at Versailles!
Certainly, no people can have seen more of the world than we have done in the last three months. By seeing the world I mean seeing varieties of characters and manners, and being behind the scenes of life in many different societies and families. The constant chorus of our moral as we drive home together at night is, "How happy we are to be so fond of each other! How happy we are to be independent of all we see here! How happy that we have our dear home to return to at last!"
But to return to the Princess Potemkin: she is Russian, but she has all the grace, softness, and winning manners of the Polish ladies, and an oval face, pale, with the finest, softest, most expressive _chestnut_ dark eyes. She has a sort of politeness which pleases peculiarly--a mixture of the ease of high rank and early habit with something that is sentimental without affectation. Madame Le Brun is painting her picture: Madame Le Brun is sixty-six, with great vivacity as well as genius, and better worth seeing than her pictures; for though they are speaking, she speaks, and speaks uncommonly well.
Madame de Noisville, _dame d"honneur_ to the Princess Potemkin, educated her and her sisters: the friendship of the pupil and the preceptress does honour to both. Madame de Noisville is a very well-bred woman, of superior understanding and decided character, very entertaining and agreeable. She told us that Rostopchin, speaking of the Russians, said he would represent their civilisation by a naked man looking at himself in a gilt-framed mirror.
The Governor of Siberia lived at Petersburgh, and never went near his government. One day the Emperor, in presence of this governor and Rostopchin, was boasting of his farsightedness. "Commend me," said Rostopchin, "to M. le Gouverneur, who sees so well from Petersburgh to Siberia." Good-bye.
An evening which Miss Edgeworth spent at Neuilly _en famille_ impressed her with the unaffected happiness of the Orleans family. The Duke showed her the picture of himself teaching a school in America: Mademoiselle d"Orleans pointed to her harp, and said she superintended the lessons of her nieces; both she and her brother acknowledging how admirably Madame de Genlis had instructed them. The d.u.c.h.ess sat at a round table working, and in the course of the evening the two eldest little boys ran in from an ecole d"enseignement mutuel which they attended in the neighbourhood, with their schoolbooks in their hands, and some prizes they had gained, eager to display them to their mother. It was a happy, simple family party.
MARIA _to_ MRS. RUXTON.
PARIS, _July 1820._
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 facade 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, Moliere, 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 d.u.c.h.esse Douairiere d"Orleans" [Footnote: Louise Marie Adelaide de Bourbon Conde, widow of Louis Philippe Joseph, Duc d"Orleans, daughter of the Duc de Penthievre. 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 d.u.c.h.esse d"Angouleme and all the court. In the evening we were at a _fete de village_ at La Celle, to which Madame de Vinde 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 s.p.a.ce enough to form a quadrille. This grove was planted by Gabrielle d"Estrees, for whom Henry IV. built a lodge near it. f.a.n.n.y and Harriet danced with two gentlemen who were of our party, and they all danced on till dewfall, when the lamps--little gla.s.ses 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 d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans, daughter-in-law of the good old d.u.c.h.ess, 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 causee 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.