THE STORY OF COLUMBUS.

"I am very sorry for your mishap," I said; "but what, in Heaven's name, induced you to meddle with politics?"

He burst out laughing, in that peculiar laugh of his which I have never heard before or since, on or off the stage. The nearest approach to it was that of Grassot, but the latter's was like a discharge of artillery, while Gil-PÃ©rÃ¨s was like that of a musketry volley.

"I did not meddle with politics," he replied; "but you know how fond I am of going among crowds to study character. This day last week, I was passing along the Rue Drouot, when I saw a large group in front of the Mairie. I had left home early in the morning, I knew nothing of what was going on in my neighbourhood, so you may imagine my surprise when I heard them calmly discussing the death ofClÃ©ment Thomas and Lecomte. My hair stood positively on end, and I must have pushed a bit in order to get nearer the speakers. I had a long black coat on, and they mistook me for a curÃ©. I did all I could to tell them my name, but, before I could utter a word, I was down, and they began trampling on me. Some one, God alone knows who, saved me, by telling them my name. I knew nothing more, for I was brought home unconscious. And to think," he added, "that I might have been a member of the Commune myself, if I had liked."

"What do you mean?" I said, for I began to think that he was out of his mind.

"Well, you know that during the siege I tried to do my duty as a National Guard, and in my battalion was this ThÃ©ophile FerrÃ© of whom you have already heard. A most intelligent creature, but poor as Job and ferocious to a degree. He was a study to me, and, of late, he frequently came to see me in the morning. I generally asked him to stay to breakfast, for I liked to hear him talk of the future Commune, though I had not the slightest faith in his visions. I considered him a downright lunatic. About two or three days before this outbreak, he came, one morning, looking as pale as a ghost, but evidently very much excited. Before I had time to ask him the cause of his emotion, he exclaimed, 'This time there is no mistake about it; we are the masters.' I suppose my face must have looked a perfect blank, for he proceeded to explain. 'In two days we'll hold our sittings at the HÃ´tel-de-Ville, and the Commune will be proclaimed. And now,' he added, 'what can I do for you, citoyen Gil-PÃ©rÃ¨s? You have always been very kind to me, and I am not likely to forget it when I am at the top of the tree.'

"I told him that I'd feel much obliged to him if he could induce Sardou or Dumas to write me a good part, like the latter had done before, because I wanted to be something more than a comic actor. But I saw that he was getting angry.

"'Do you mean to tell me,' he almost hissed, 'that you do not want to belong to the Commune?'

"'I haven't the slightest ambition that way,' I replied. 'People would only make fun of me, and they would be perfectly right.'

"'Why should people make fun of you?'

"'Because, becauseâ€”â€”' I stammered.

"He left me no time to finish. 'Because you are a smallman,' he said. 'Well, I am a small man, too, and an ugly one into the bargain. I can assure you that the world will hear as much of me before long as if I had been an Adonis and a Hercules.' With this he disappeared, and I have not seen him since."

My purpose in reporting this conversation is to show that the Commune, with all its evils, might have been prevented by the so-called government of Versailles, if its members had been a little less eager to get their snug berths comfortably settled.

To return for a moment to FerrÃ© and his companions, who, without exception, were sober to a degree, though many were probably fond of good cheer. The English writers, often very insufficiently informed, have generally maintained the contrary, but I know for a fact that, among the leaders of the movement, drunkenness was unknown. FerrÃ© himself was among the soberest of the lot: the few evenings I saw him he drank either cold coffee or some cordial diluted with water. Nevertheless, it was he who was directly responsible for the death of Archbishop Darboy, whom he could and might have saved.

In every modern tragedy there is a comic element, and in that of the Commune the comic parts were, to a certain extent, sustained by Gambon, Jourde, and a few others whom it is not necessary to mention. Gambon was one of the mildest of creatures, and somewhat of a "communard malgrÃ© lui." He would have willingly "left the settlement of all these vexed questions to moral force," and he proposed once or twice a mission to Versailles to that effect. He was about fifty, and a fine specimen of a robust, healthy farmer. His love of "peaceful settlement" arose from an experiment he had made in that way during the Empire, though it is very doubtful whether strictly logical reasoners would have looked upon it as "peaceful." Gambon had been a magistrate and a member of the National Assembly during the Second Republic, and voted with the conservative side. The advent of the Empire made an end of his parliamentary career, and, in order to mark his disapproval of the Coup-d'Ã‰tat and its sequel, Gambon refused to pay his taxes. The authorities seized one of his cows, and were proceeding to sell it by auction, when Gambon, accompanied by a good many of his former constituents, appeared on the scene. "This cow," he shouts, "has been stolen from me by the Imperial fisc, andwhosoever buys it is nothing more than a thief himself." Result: not a single bid for the cow, and the auctioneer was compelled to adjourn the sale for a week. The auctioneer deemed it prudent to transport the cow to a neighbouring commune, but Gambon had got wind of the affair, and adopted the same expedient of moral persuasion. For nearly three months the auctioneer transported the cow from one commune to another, and Gambon followed him everywhere, until they reached the limits of the department. Gambon apprehended that moral persuasion would have no effect among strangers, and he let things take their course. The cost of selling the cow amounted to about ten times its worth. As a matter of course, the whole affair was revived by "les journaux bien pensants" at the advent of the Commune, and Gambon was elected a member by the 10th Arrondissement. Gambon managed to escape into Switzerland; but when the amnesty was proclaimed, he returned, and solicited once more the suffrages of his former constituents. At the Brasserie Saint-SÃ©verin, Gambon was generally to be found at the ladies' table, about the occupants of which I cannot speak, seeing that I was not introduced to them.

Jourde was one of two "financial delegates" of the Commune. He had been a superior employÃ© at the Bank of France, and was considered an authority on financial affairs. It was he to whom the Marquis de Ploeuc, the governor of the Bank, had handed the first million for the use of the Commune. My friend, the doctor, had known him in his former capacity, and often invited him to our table, to which invitation the "paymaster-general" always eagerly responded. One evening, the conversation turned upon the events which had preceded the request for funds. "On the second day of the Commune," he said, "the want of money began to be horribly felt. Eudes proposed that I should go and fetch some from the Bank of France. To be perfectly candid, I did not care about it. Had I been a soldier, I might have invaded the Bank at the head of a regiment; but, to go and ask my former chief for a million or so as a matter of course, was a different thing, and I had not the moral courage. The director of the Bank of France is very little short of a god to his subordinates, and, in spite of our boasted 'Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality,' there is no nation so ready to bow down before its governors as the French. Seeing that I hung back, Eudes proposed to go himself, and did, refusing to takea single soldier with him. But he did not want the responsibility of handling the million of francs the governor placed at our disposal, so I was, after all, obliged to beard my former chief in his own den. He was very polite, and called me 'Monsieur le dÃ©lÃ©guÃ© aux finances,' but I would have preferred his calling me all the names in the world, for I caught sight of a very ironical smile at the corners of his mouth when, on taking leave of him, he said, 'You may be my successor one day, Monsieur le dÃ©lÃ©guÃ©, and I hope you will profit by the lessons I have always endeavoured to teach my subordinates: obedience to the powers that be.'"

Jourde was by no means a fool or a braggart; he was a very good administrator, and exceedingly conscientious. Like most men who have had the constant handling of important sums of money, he was absolutely indifferent to it; and I feel certain that he did not feather his own nest during the two months he had the chance. But he vainly endeavoured to impress upon the others the necessity for economy. Every now and then he tore his red hair and beard at the waste going on at the HÃ´tel-de-Ville, where, in the beginning, Assi was keeping open table. Not that they were feasting, but every one who had a mind could sit down, and, though the sum charged by the steward was moderate, two francs for breakfast and two francs fifty centimes for dinner, the number of self-invited guests increased day by day, and the paymaster-general was at his wits' end to keep pace with the expenses. The Central-Committee put a stop to this indiscriminate hospitality by simply arresting Assi, whom I never saw.

When the Commune decreed the demolition of the VendÃ´me column, Jourde was still more angry and in despair. He was, first of all, opposed to its destruction, from a patriotic and common-sense point of view: secondly, he objected to the waste of money that destruction entailed; he endeavoured to cut the Gordian knot by stopping the workmen's pay. Though three or four of his fellow "delegates" were absolutely of the same opinion, the rest sent him a polite intimation that if the necessary funds were not disbursed voluntarily they would send for them, and take the opportunity, at the same time, to "put him against the wall," and make an end of him. That night, Courbet, the painter, who had been the prime mover in this work of destruction, came to the Brasserie Saint-SÃ©verin from the Brasserie Andler, hard by, to taste the sweets of his victory. His friend, Chaudey,of theSiÃ¨cle, was no longer with him. Like Mgr. Darboy, the AbbÃ©s Lagarde, CrozÃ©s, and Deguerry, he had been arrested by Raoul Rigault as a hostage, in virtue of a decree by the Commune, setting forth that every execution of a prisoner of war, taken by the Versaillais, would be followed by the execution of three hostages to be drawn by lot.

Jourde did not wear a uniform; at any rate, I never saw him in one. I happened to remark upon it one evening, and he then gave me a partial explanation why the others did wear them in so ostentatious a manner.

"It is really done to please the National Guards; they mistrust those who remain 'in mufti;' they attribute their reluctance to don the uniform to the fear of being compromised, to the wish to escape unnoticed if things should go wrong. I grant you that all this does not warrant the uniforms most of my colleagues do wear, but to the Latin races the wisdom of Solomon lies in his magnificence, and they trace the elevation of Joseph to its primary causeâ€”his coat of many colours. I am not only 'delegate of finances' and paymaster-general, but head cook and bottle-washer in all that concerns monetary matters to the Central-Committee. I have very few clerks to assist me in my work, and fewer still upon whose honesty I can depend; consequently, I am compelled to do a good deal of drudgery myself. Yesterday I received the fortnightly accounts of Godillot,[91]the military tailors and accoutrement manufacturers. They seemed to me simply monstrous, not so much in respect of the prices charged for each uniform, as in respect of the number of uniforms supplied. To have sent one of my clerks would have been of no earthly use; there is an old Normand saying about sending the cat to Rome and his coming back mewing; the clerk would have simply come back mewing, saying that there was no mistake, so I went myself. I saw the chief manager.

"'I am positive there is no mistake, monsieur,' he said, 'though I may tell you at once that I made the same remark when I passed the accounts; the number of uniforms seemed to me inordinately large; mais il faut se rendre Ã l'Ã©vidence, and I ticketed off every item by its corresponding voucher. Still I felt that there is a terrible waste somewhere, and said so to the head of the retail department. "If you will remaindownstairs for one hour," was the answer, "you will have the explanation." I can only say the same to you, Monsieur le dÃ©lÃ©guÃ©.'

"I did remain on that ground-floor for one hour," Jourde went on, "and, during that time, no fewer than eight young fellows came in with vouchers for complete uniforms of lieutenants or captains of the staff. Most of them looked to me as if they had never handled a sword or rifle in their livesâ€”yardsticks seemed more in their line; and the airs they gave themselves positively disgusted me; but I do not want another reminder of the Central-Committee about my cheeseparing, so I'll let things take their course. Look, here is a sample of how we deck ourselves out quand nous allons en guerre."

I looked in the direction pointed out to me, and beheld a somewhat dark individual with lank, black hair, of ordinary height, or a little below perhaps, dressed in a most extraordinary costume. He wore a blue Zouave jacket, large baggy crimson breeches tucked into a pair of quasi-hessian boots, a crimson sash, and a black sombrero hat with a red feather. A long cavalry sabre completed the costume. Upon the whole, he carried himself well, though there was a kind of swashbuckler air about him which smacked of the stage. I was not mistaken; the scent or the smell of the footlights was over it all.

"This is Colonel Maxime Lisbonne, an actor by profession, who has taken to soldiering with a vengeance," said Jourde. "There is no doubt about his bravery, but he is as fit to be a colonel as I am to be a general. It does not seem to strike my colleagues that, in no matter what profession, one has to serve an apprenticeship, and, most of all, in the science of soldiering; Maxime Lisbonne said he would be a colonel, so they, without more ado, made him one.[92]He never moves without that Turco at his heels."

On another occasion I saw the famous General Dombrowski, and the no less famous Colonel or General la CÃ©cilia. I only exchanged a few words with the former, but I sat talking for a whole evening to the latter. He was a short, spare, fidgety man, strongly pitted with small-pox, with a few straggling hairs on the upper lip and chin. He was terribly near-sighted, and wore a pair of thick spectacles. Nervous and restless to a degree, but a voice of remarkable sweetness. His English was faultless, with scarcely any accent, and I was told that he spoke every European language and several Oriental ones with the same accuracy. He was the only Frenchman who could converse with Dombrowski and the other Poles in their native language. He was a clever mathematician, and, that evening, he endeavoured to prove mathematically that Von Moltke had committed several blunders, both at Sadowa and Sedan. "That kind of thing," said Jourde, after he was gone, "was sure to 'fetch' the Central-Committee; he always reminds me of the doctors in MoliÃ¨re trying to prove that one of their confrÃ¨res had cured a patient contrary to the principles of medicine. Mind, do not imagine that La CÃ©cilia is not a good soldier. He got all his grades in the Italian army, on the battle-fields of '59-'60, and, during the late war, he directed the brilliant defence of AlenÃ§on. But between a good soldier and a great general there is a vast difference."

Physically, Dombrowski was almost the counterpart of La CÃ©cilia, with the exception of the glasses and the small-pox. But while the Frenchmanâ€”for CÃ©cilia was a Frenchman notwithstanding his Italian nameâ€”was modest though critical, the Pole was a braggart, though by no means devoid of courage. Up to the very end, he sent in reports of his victories, all of which were purely imaginary. Even as lateas the 21st of May, when the Versailles troops were carrying everything before them, the newspaper-boys were shouting, "Brilliant victory of General Dombrowski." Dombrowski had been invested with his high command under the pretext that he had fought under Garibaldi and in the Polish struggle against Russia. It transpired afterwards that he had never seen Garibaldi nor Garibaldi him, and that, so far from having aided his own countrymen, he had been a simple private in the Russian army. Still, he was a better man than his countryman Wrobleski, who showed his courage by going to bed while the Versaillais were shelling Vanves.

Among my papers I find a torn programme of a concert at the Tuileries during the Commune. It reads as follows:â€”

Commune de Paris,PALAIS DES TUILERIESServant pourLA PREMIÃˆRE FOISÃ une Å“uvre patriotiqueGRAND CONCERTAu Profit des Veuves et Orphelins de la RÃ©publique.Sous le Patronage de la Commune et du Citoyen Dr. Rousselle.Tout porteur de billet pris Ã l'avance pourra sans rÃ©tribution, visiter le Palais des Tuileries.

Commune de Paris,

PALAIS DES TUILERIES

Servant pourLA PREMIÃˆRE FOISÃ une Å“uvre patriotique

GRAND CONCERT

Au Profit des Veuves et Orphelins de la RÃ©publique.

Sous le Patronage de la Commune et du Citoyen Dr. Rousselle.

Tout porteur de billet pris Ã l'avance pourra sans rÃ©tribution, visiter le Palais des Tuileries.

The rest is missing, but I remember that among the artists who gave their services were Mesdames Agar and Bordas; MM. Coquelin cadet, and Francis ThomÃ©, the pianist.

I did not take my ticket beforehand, consequently was not entitled to a stroll through the Palace previous to the concert. When I entered the Salle des MarÃ©chaux, where the concert was to take place, I felt thankful that the trial had been spared to me, and I mentally ejaculated a wish that I might never see that glorious apartment under similar circumstances. The traces of neglect were too painful to behold, though I am bound to say that I could detect no proofs of wilful damage. My wish was gratified with a vengeance. A little more than a month afterwards, the building was inflames, and, at the hour I write, it is being razed to the ground.

I did not stay long; I heard Madame Agar, dressed in deep mourning, declaim "the Marseillaise," and M. ThomÃ© execute a fantasia on well-known operatic airs. Some of the reserved seats were occupied by the minor dignitaries of the Commune, but the greater part of the place was filled by working men and their spouses and the verypetite bourgeoisie. The latter seemed to be in doubt whether to enjoy themselves or not; but the former were very vociferous, and had evidently made up their minds that the Commune was the best of all possible rÃ©gimes, seeing that it enabled them to listen to a concert in a palace for a mere trifle. "That's equality, as I understand it, monsieur," said a workman in a very clean blouse to me, at the same time making room for me on the seat next to him. He and his companion beguiled the time between the first and second number on the programme by sucking barley-sugar.

About a month laterâ€”on Wednesday, May 17th, but I will not be certainâ€”I was present at the first gala-performance organized by the Commune, although the Versailles troops were within gunshot of the fortifications. This time I had taken a ticket beforehand. The performance was to take place at the OpÃ©ra-Comique, and long before the appointed hour the Boulevards and the streets adjoining the theatre were crowded with idlers, anxious to watch the arrival of the bigwigs under whose immediate patronage the entertainment was to be given. The papers had been full of it for days and days beforehand; the posters on the walls had set forth its many attractions. In accordance with traditional usage on such occasions, the programme was a miscellaneous one, and the wags did not fail to remark that the Commune ought to have struck out something original instead of blindly following the precedents of tyrants; but in reality the Commune had no choice. Few of the principal artists of the subsidized theatres were available, and there was an evident reluctance to co-operate among some of those who were; hence it was decided to give fragments of such operas or comedies, calculated to stimulate still further the patriotic and republican sentiments with which the majority of the spectators were credited. There had been less difficulty in recruiting the orchestra, and a very fair band was got together. A great many invitations had been issued;few of the seats, especially in the better parts, were paid for.

All the entrances had been thrown open, and around every one there was a considerable gathering, almost exclusively composed of National Guards in uniform, and women of the working classes, who enthusiastically cheered each known personage on his arrival. The latter were too magnificent for words, the clanking sabres, resplendent uniforms, and waving plumes only paled in contrast with the toilettes of their female companions who hung proudly on their arms. For them, at any rate, "le jour de gloire Ã©tait arrivÃ©."

The crowd, especially the fairer portion of it, was decidedly enthusiastic, perhaps somewhat too enthusiastic, in their ultra-cordial greetings and recognition of the ladies, so suddenly promoted in the social scale. MÃ©lanie and Clarisse would have been satisfied with a less literal interpretation of "Auld Lang Syne," as they stepped out of the carriages, the horses of which belied the boast that at the end of the siege there were 30,000 serviceable animals of that kind left.

The performance had been timed for half-past seven; at half-past eight, the principal box set apart for the chiefs of the new rÃ©gime was still empty. As I have already said, disquieting rumours had been afloat for the last few days with regard to the approach of the Versailles troops, the guns had been thundering all day long, and, what was worse, for the last forty-eight hours no "startling victory" had been announced either on the walls of Paris or in the papers. Some of the "great men," among the audience in the stalls and dress-circle, and easily to be distinguished from the ruck of ordinary mortals, professed themselves unable to supply authentic information, but as the performance had not been countermanded, they suggested that things were not so bad as they looked.

The theatre was crammed from floor to ceiling, and the din was something terrible. The heat was oppressive; luckily the gas was burning low because the companies were as yet unable to provide a full supply. There were few people out of uniform in either stalls or dress-circle, but the upper parts were occupied by blouses with a fair sprinkling of cloth coats. The women seemed to me to make the most infernal noise. The two stage-boxes were still empty; in the others therewere a good many journalists and ladies who had come to criticize the appearance and demeanour of the "dames de nos nouveaux gouvernants." There was one box which attracted particular attention; one of its occupants, evidently a "dame du monde," was in evening dress, wearing some magnificent diamonds, while it was very patent that those of her own social status had made it a point to dress as simply as possible. I have never been able to find out the name of the lady; I had not seen her before, I have not seen her since.

At about a quarter to nine the doors of the stage-boxes were flung back, and the guests of the evening appeared. But alas, they were not the chief members of the Commune, only the secondary characters. It is doubtful, though, whether the former could have been more magnificently attired than were the latter. Their uniforms were positively hidden beneath the gold lace.

Immediately, the band struck up the inevitable "Marseillaise;" the spectators in the upper galleries joined in the chorus; the building shook to its foundations, and, amidst the terrible din, one could distinctly hear the crowds on the Boulevards re-echoing the strains. The occupants of the state boxes gave the signal for the applause, then the curtain rose, and Mdlle. Agar, in peplos and cothurnus, recited the strophes once more. When the curtain fell, the audience rushed to the foyer or out into the open air; at any rate, the former was not inconveniently crowded. Among those strolling up and down I noticed the lady of the diamonds, on the arm of a rather common-looking individual in a gorgeous uniform. I believe I caught sight of the American Minister, but I will not be certain.

This time the curtain rose upon an act of a comedy; the spectators, however, did not seem to be vastly interested; they were evidently waiting for the duo to be sung by Madame Ugalde and a tenor whose name I do not remember. He was, I heard, an amateur of great promise.

Scarcely had Madame Ugalde uttered her first notes, when a bugler of the franc-tireurs of the Commune stepped in front of an empty box and sounded the charge. The effect was startling. The audience rose to a man, and rushed to the exits. In less than five minutes the building was empty. I had let the human avalanche pass by. When I came outside I was told that it was a false alarm, or, rather, a practicaljoke; but no one re-entered the theatre. Thus ended the gala-performance of the Commune, and a careful observer would have had no difficulty in foreseeing the end of the latter. The bugler had, unconsciously perhaps, sounded its death-knell.

THE END.

D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS.

ByElizabeth Eggleston Seelye; edited by Dr.Edward Eggleston. With 100 Illustrations by Allegra Eggleston. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75.

CARAVEL.

This book is the result of most extensive investigations, which have been carefully verified by the eminent historian and novelist, Dr. Eggleston. It is not too much to say that the whole world has been drawn upon for material by the author and the artist. The fruits of these investigations are presented in a popular, readable, always entertaining form. While the book contains all the results of modern inquiry offered in the bulkiest biographies, the story is here condensed and the material selected with a view to an always interesting narrative. To a considerable extent the plan of both text and illustrations is like that of Eggleston's "Household History of the United States." It is hardly necessary to say more regarding the fitness of this volume for a place in every American private, public, and school library.

CATAPULT.

"The purpose of the writer of this book has been to relate the life of the greatest of discoverers in a manner interesting and delightful to the general reader, while producing a narrative strictly conformed to the facts as given by the best ancient authorities and developed by the latest researches of scholars. There is here no attempt to discuss theprosandconsof debated points in Columbian history. Such investigators as Navarrete, Mr. Harrisse, Signor Staglieno, and our own learned Mr. Justin Winsor, have wrought abundantly and with large results upon these problems. It is the purpose of the present work to tell the story as understood through the labors of these scholars, leaving aside ponderous discussions which in a book intended for general reading would tire without enlightening.

IMAGE FOUND ATSANTO DOMINGO.

"Though disclaiming original investigation beyond the careful use of the leading authorities, Mrs. Seelye has been at much pains not to give the reader the discredited myths used by the old school of biographers. It is a poor service to relate as history an interesting story that is not true, or to lift an historical figure into a heroism far from his real character. To give the facts as we know them, and to show Columbus as he really was, has been the sincere endeavor of the writer of this book. The story is wonderful enough without the embellishment of fiction; the man is interesting enough when painted in his real colors."â€”From the Introduction, by Edward Eggleston.

BRER RABBIT PREACHES.

ByJoel Chandler Harris, author of "Uncle Remus." With 23 Illustrations byE. W. Kemble, and Portrait of the Author. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.

The most personal and in some respects the most important work which Mr. Harris has published since "Uncle Remus." Many will read between the lines and see the autobiography of the author. In addition to the stirring incidents which appear in the story, the author presents a graphic picture of certain phases of Southern life which have not appeared in his books before. There are also new examples of the folk-lore of the negroes, which became classic when presented to the public in the pages of "Uncle Remus."

"The book is in the characteristic vein which has made the author so famous and popular as an interpreter of plantation character."â€”Rochester Union and Advertiser."Those who never tire of Uncle Remus and his storiesâ€”with whom we would be accountedâ€”will delight in Joe Maxwell and his exploits."â€”London Saturday Review."Altogether a most charming book."â€”Chicago Times."Really a valuable, if modest, contribution to the history of the civil war within the Confederate lines, particularly on the eve of the catastrophe. While Mr. Harris, in his preface, professes to have lost the power to distinguish between what is true and what is imaginative in his episodical narrative, the reader readily finds the clew. Two or three new animal fables are introduced with effect; but the history of the plantation, the printing-office, the black runaways, and white deserters, of whom the impending break-up made the community tolerant, the coon and fox hunting, forms the serious purpose of the book, and holds the reader's interest from beginning to end. Like 'Daddy Jake,' this is a good anti-slavery tract in disguise, and does credit to Mr. Harris's humanity. There are amusing illustrations by E. W. Kemble."â€”New York Evening Post."A charming little book, tastefully gotten up.... Its simplicity, humor, and individuality would be very welcome to any one who was weary of the pretentiousness and the dull obviousness of the average three-volume novel."â€”London Chronicle."The mirage of war vanishes and reappears like an ominous shadow on the horizon, but the stay-at-home whites of the Southern Confederacy were likewise threatened by fears of a servile insurrection. This dark dread exerts its influence on a narration which is otherwise cheery with boyhood's fortunate freedom from anxiety, and sublime disregard for what the morrow may bring forth. The simple chronicle of old times 'on the plantation' concludes all too soon; the fire burns low and the tale is ended just as the reader becomes acclimated to the mid-Georgian village, and feels thoroughly at home with Joe and Mink. The 'Owl and the Birds,' 'Old Zip Coon,' the 'Big Injun and the Buzzard,' are joyous echoes of the plantation-lore that first delighted us in 'Uncle Remus.' Kemble's illustrations, evidently studied from life, are interspersed in these pages of a book of consummate charm."â€”Philadelphia Ledger.

"The book is in the characteristic vein which has made the author so famous and popular as an interpreter of plantation character."â€”Rochester Union and Advertiser.

"Those who never tire of Uncle Remus and his storiesâ€”with whom we would be accountedâ€”will delight in Joe Maxwell and his exploits."â€”London Saturday Review.

"Altogether a most charming book."â€”Chicago Times.

"Really a valuable, if modest, contribution to the history of the civil war within the Confederate lines, particularly on the eve of the catastrophe. While Mr. Harris, in his preface, professes to have lost the power to distinguish between what is true and what is imaginative in his episodical narrative, the reader readily finds the clew. Two or three new animal fables are introduced with effect; but the history of the plantation, the printing-office, the black runaways, and white deserters, of whom the impending break-up made the community tolerant, the coon and fox hunting, forms the serious purpose of the book, and holds the reader's interest from beginning to end. Like 'Daddy Jake,' this is a good anti-slavery tract in disguise, and does credit to Mr. Harris's humanity. There are amusing illustrations by E. W. Kemble."â€”New York Evening Post.

"A charming little book, tastefully gotten up.... Its simplicity, humor, and individuality would be very welcome to any one who was weary of the pretentiousness and the dull obviousness of the average three-volume novel."â€”London Chronicle.

"The mirage of war vanishes and reappears like an ominous shadow on the horizon, but the stay-at-home whites of the Southern Confederacy were likewise threatened by fears of a servile insurrection. This dark dread exerts its influence on a narration which is otherwise cheery with boyhood's fortunate freedom from anxiety, and sublime disregard for what the morrow may bring forth. The simple chronicle of old times 'on the plantation' concludes all too soon; the fire burns low and the tale is ended just as the reader becomes acclimated to the mid-Georgian village, and feels thoroughly at home with Joe and Mink. The 'Owl and the Birds,' 'Old Zip Coon,' the 'Big Injun and the Buzzard,' are joyous echoes of the plantation-lore that first delighted us in 'Uncle Remus.' Kemble's illustrations, evidently studied from life, are interspersed in these pages of a book of consummate charm."â€”Philadelphia Ledger.

New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.

Footnotes[1]The "lettre de faire part" is an intimation of a birth, marriage, or death sent to the friends, and even mere acquaintances, of a family.â€”Editor.[2]The lithographers were almost the first in France to form a co-operative society, but not in the sense of the Rochdale pioneers, which dates from about the same period. The Lacrampe Association was for supplying lithographic work. It began in the Passage du Caire with ten members, and in a short time numbered two hundred workmen.â€”Editor.[3]Guillaume LethiÃ¨re, whose real name was Guillon, was a native of Guadeloupe. He fought and seriously wounded several officers because the latter had objected to "a mere dauber wearing moustaches." He was obliged to leave Paris, but, thanks to the protection of Lucien Bonaparte, was appointed Director of the French AcadÃ©mie at Rome.â€”Editor.[4]This reluctance to handle coppers proved a sore grief to his more economical and less fastidious brother Paul, who watched like a guardian angel over his junior, whom he worshipped. It is on record that he only said a harsh word to him once in his life, namely, when they wanted to make him, Paul, a member of the AcadÃ©mie FranÃ§aise. "C'est bien assez d'un immortel dans la famille," he replied to those who counselled him to stand. Then, turning to his brother, "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu t'es fourrÃ© dans cette galÃ¨re, si elle est assez grande pour moi, tu dois y Ãªtre joliment Ã l'Ã©troit." It is difficult to imagine a greater instance of brotherly pride and admiration, because Paul de Musset was by no means a nonentity, only from a very early age he had always merged his individuality in that of Alfred. To some one who once remarked upon this in my hearing, he answered, "Que voulez-vous? c'est comme cela: Alfred a eu toujours la moitiÃ© du lit, seulement la moitiÃ© Ã©tait toujours prise du milieu."[5]The name of the military prison which was originally built on the site of the former CollÃ©ge Montaigu, where the scholars were almost exclusively fed on haricot beans. Throughout its removals the prison preserved its nickname.â€”Editor.[6]There were two Tivoli gardens, both in the same neighbourhood, the site of the present Quartier de l'Europe. The author is alluding to the second, so often mentioned in the novels of Paul de Kock.â€”Editor.[7]The latter plea was, in fact, advanced by Pillet's counsel in the first instance, on Roqueplan's advice, and perhaps influenced the court; for though it gave a verdict for the plaintiff, it was only forseven francs(the price of the stall), and costs. The verdict was based upon the "consideration" that the defendant had not carried out altogether the promise set forth on the programme.[8]Alexandre Dumas had a marvellously small foot.â€”Editor.[9]Literally, a basket with holes in it; figuratively, the term applied to irreclaimable spendthrifts.â€”Editor.[10]The word "shrew" is the nearest equivalent.â€”Editor.[11]Jules-Henri de Saint-Georges, one of the most fertile librettists of the time, the principal collaborateur of Scribe, and best known in England as the author of the book of Balfe's "Bohemian Girl."â€”Editor.[12]The Ã‰lysÃ©e-Bourbon, which was the official residence of Louis-NapolÃ©on during his presidency of the second republic, was almost untenanted during the reign of Louis-Philippe.The HÃ´tel Pontalba was partly built on the site of the former mansion of M. de Morfontaine, a staunch royalist, who, curiously enough, had married the daughter of Le Peletier de Saint-Fargeau, the member of the Convention who had voted the death of Louis XVI., and who himself fell by the hand of an assassin. Mdlle. le Peletier Saint-Fargeau was called "La Fille de la Nation."â€”Editor.[13]One of the great wits of the Revolution.â€”Editor.[14]M. EugÃ¨ne Pelletan, the father of M. Camille Pelletan, the editor ofLa Justice, and first lieutenant to M. Clemenceau, having severely criticized some passages in M. Blanc's "Histoire de la RÃ©volution," relating to Marie-Antoinette, the author quoted a passage of Madame Campan's "MÃ©moires" in support of his writings. The critic refused to admit the conclusiveness of the proof, whereupon M. Blanc appealed to the SociÃ©tÃ© des Gens de Lettres, which, on the summing up of M. Taxile Delord, gave a verdict in his favour. M. Pelletan declined to submit to the verdict, as he had refused to admit the jurisdiction, of the tribunal. M. Blanc, who had at first scouted all idea of a duel, considered himself obliged to resort to this means of obtaining satisfaction, seeing that M. Pelletan stoutly maintained his opinion. A meeting had been arranged when the Revolution of '48 broke out. The opponents having both gone to the HÃ´tel-de-Ville, met by accident at the entrance, and fell into one another's arms. "Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Thiers, when he heard of it. "If Pelletan had killed Blanc, I should have been the smallest man in France."M. Blanc's allusion to other "preux chevaliers" aimed particularly at M. Cousin, who, having become a minister against his will, resumed with a sigh of relief his studies under the Second Empire. He was especially fond of the seventeenth century, and all at once he, who had scarcely ever noticed a pretty woman, became violently smitten with the Duchesse de Longueville, who had been in her grave for nearly two centuries. He positively invested her with every perfection, moral and mental; unfortunately, he could not invest her with a shapely bust, the evidence being too overwhelmingly against her having been adorned that way. One day some one showed him a portrait of the sister of the "grand CondÃ©," in which she was amply provided with the charms the absence of which M. Cousin regretted. He wrote a special chapter on the subject, and was well-nigh challenging all his contradictors.â€”Editor.[15]The great fencing-master, whom Dumas immortalized in his "MaÃ®tre d'Armes."â€”Editor.[16]The English nobleman must have been Lord Malmesbury, who alludes to her as follows: "This was a most remarkable woman, and may be said by her conduct at Munich to have set fire to the magazine of revolution, which was ready to burst forth all over Europe, and which made the year 1848 memorable. I made her acquaintance by accident, as I was going up to London from Heron Court, in the railway. The Consul at Southampton asked me to take charge of a Spanish lady who had been recommended to his care, and who had just landed. I consented to do this, and was introduced by him to a remarkably handsome person, who was in deep mourning, and who appeared to be in great distress. As we were alone in the carriage, she, of her own accord, informed me, in bad English, that she was the widow of Don Diego Leon, who had lately been shot by the Carlists after he was taken prisoner, and that she was going to London to sell some Spanish property that she possessed, and give lessons in singing, as she was very poor. On arriving in London she took some lodgings, and came to my house to a little concert which I gave, and sang some Spanish ballads. Her accent was foreign, and she had all the appearance of being what she pretended to be. She sold different things, such as veils, etc., to the party present, and received a good deal of patronage. Eventually she took an engagement for the ballet at the Opera House, but her dancing was very inferior. At last she was recognized as an impostor, her real name being Mrs. James, and Irish by extraction, and had married an officer in India. Her engagement at the OpÃ©ra was cancelled, she left the country, and retired to Munich. She was a very violent woman, and actually struck one of the Bavarian generals as he was reviewing the troops. The king became perfectly infatuated with her beauty and cleverness, and gave her large sums of money, with a title, which she afterwards bore when she returned to England." ("Memoirs of an Ex-minister," by the Earl of Malmesbury.)Lord Malmesbury is wrong in nearly every particular which he has got from hearsay. Lola MontÃ¨s did not retire to Munich after her engagement at the Opera House had been cancelled, but to Brussels, and from there to Warsaw. Nor did she play the all-important part in the Bavarian riots or revolution he ascribes to her. The author of these notes has most of the particulars of Lola MontÃ¨s' career previous to her appearance in Munich from her own lips, and, as he has already said, she was not in the least reticent about her scheming, especially when her scheming had failed. For the story of the events at Munich, I gather inferentially from his notes that he is indebted to Karl von Abel, King Ludwig's ultramontane minister, who came afterwards to Paris, and who, if I mistake not, was the father or the uncle of Herr von Abel, the Berlin correspondent of theTimes, some fourteen or fifteen years ago.â€”Editor.[17]Lola MontÃ¨s was perfectly correct. It was Frederick IV. of Denmark, only the woman was not an adventuress like herself, but the Countess Reventlow, whom he had abducted.â€”Editor.[18]"Companions in Walhalla."â€”Editor.[19]The following is virtually a summary of an article by Count G. de Contades, in a French bibliographical periodical,Le Livre(Dec. 10, 1885), and shows how near Alexandre Dumas was to the truth. I have given it at great length. My excuse for so doing is the extraordinary popularity of Dumas' play with all classes of playgoers. As a consequence, there is not a single modern play, with the exception of those of Shakespeare, the genesis of which has been so much commented upon. It is no exaggeration to say that most educated playgoers, not to mention professional students of the drama, have at some time or other expressed a wish to know something more of the real Marguerite Gautier's parentage and antecedents than is shown by Dumas, either in his play or in his novel, or than what they could gather from the partly apocryphal details given by her contemporaries. Dumas himself, in his preface to the play, says that she was a farm servant. He probably knew no more than that, nor did Alphonsine Plessis herself. In after-years, the eminent dramatist had neither the time nor the inclination to search musty parish registers; Count de Contades has done so for him. Here are the results, as briefly as possible, of his researches. Alphonsine Plessis' paternal grandmother, "moitiÃ© mendiante et moitiÃ© prostituÃ©e," inhabited, a little less than a century ago, the small parish of LongÃ©-sur-Maire, which has since become simply LongÃ© in the canton of Briouze, arrondissement of Argentan (about thirty miles from AlenÃ§on). She had been nicknamed "La GuÃ©nuchetonne," a rustic version of the archaic French wordguÃ©nippe(slattern). Louis Descours, a kind of country clod who had entered the priesthood without the least vocation, and just because his people wished him to do so, becomes enamoured of "La GuÃ©nuchetonne," and early in January, 1790, the curÃ© Philippe christens a male child, which is registered as Marin Plessis, mother Louis-RenÃ©e Plessis, father unknown. That the father was known well enough is proved by the Christian name bestowed upon the babe, Marin, which was that of Louis Descours' father. This gallant adventure of the country priest was an open secret for miles around.Marin Plessis grew into a handsome fellow, and when about twenty took to travelling in the adjacent provinces of lower and upper Normandy with a pack of small wares. Handsome and amiable besides, he was a welcome guest everywhere, and soon became a great favourite with the female part of the Normandy peasantry. For a little while he flitted from one rustic beauty to another, until he was fairly caught by one more handsome than the rest, Marie Deshayes. She was not, perhaps, immaculately virtuous, but, apart from her extraordinary personal attractions, she was something more than an ordinary peasant girl.Some sixty years before Marin Plessis' union with Marie Deshayes, there lived in the neighbourhood of Evreux a spinster lady of good descent, though not very well provided with worldly goods. She was comely and sweet-tempered enough, but then, as now, comeliness and a sweet temper do not count for much in the French matrimonial market, and least of all in the provincial one. Owing to the modesty of her marriage portion, she had no suitors for her hand, and, being of an exceedingly amorous disposition, she bestowed her affection where she could, "without regret, and without false shame," as the old French chronicler has it.The annals of the villageâ€”for, curiously enough, these annals do exist, though only in manuscriptsâ€”are commendably reticent about the exact number and names of her lovers. It would seem that the author, a contemporary of Mdlle. Anne du Mesnil d'Argentelles and the great-grandfather of the present possessor of the notes, a gentleman near Bernay, was divided between the wish of not being too hard upon his neighbour, who was, after all, a gentle-woman, and the desire to leave a record of a peculiar phase of the country manners of those days to posterity. Be this as it may, Mdlle. d'Argentelles' swains, previous to the very last one, have been doomed to anonymous obscurity. But with the advent of Ã‰tienne Deshayes, the annalist becomes less reticent, he is considered worthy of being mentioned in full, perhaps as a reward for having finally "made an honest woman" of his inamorata. For that is the final upshot of the love-story between him and Mdlle. d'Argentelles, which, in its earlier stages, bears a certain resemblance to that between Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Madame de Warens, with this differenceâ€”that the Normand Jean-Jacques is considerably older than his mistress.The children born of this marriage were very numerous. One of them, Louis-Deshayes, married a handsome peasant girl, Marie-Madeleine Marra, who appears to have been somewhat too intimate with a neighbouring squire, but who gave birth a few years after to a daughter, of whose paternity there could not be the smallest doubt, seeing that she grew up into a speaking likeness of her maternal grandmother, the erstwhile Mdlle. Anne du Mesnil d'Argentelles. Fate ought to have had a better lot in store for beautiful Marie Deshayes than a marriage with a poor pedlar like Marin Plessis; but the latter was very handsome, and, notwithstanding the opposition of the family, she became his wife. On the 15th of January, 1824, the child which was to be immortalized as "La Dame aux CamÃ©lias" saw the light, in a small village in Lower Normandy.â€”Editor.[20]Curiously enough, he belonged to the same department, and died almost on the very spot where Marin Plessis was born.â€”Editor.[21]An imitation of the line of Don Carlos in Hugo's "Hernani": "Empereur!... au refus de FrÃ©dÃ©ric-le-Sage!"â€”Editor.[22]It shows that Lireux was not very familiar with the royal edicts affecting that order, and that Balzac himself exaggerated the social and monetary importance of its wearers. For, though Louis-Philippe at his accession suppressed the order, not less than twelve thousand new knights had been created by his two immediate predecessors. They, the recently created knights, were allowed to retain their honours and pensions; but, even before the fall of the Bourbons, the distinction had lost much of its prestige. After the Battle of Navarino, Admiral de Rigny, soliciting rewards for his officers who had distinguished themselves, tacitly ignored the order of Saint-Louis in favour of that of the Legion of Honour. The order, as founded by Louis XIV. in 1693, was only available to officers and Catholics. Several modifications were introduced afterwards in its statutes. The Order of Saint-Louis and that of "Military Merit" were the only two recognized by the Constituent Assembly of 1789; but the Convention suppressed the former, only leaving the latter.â€”Editor.[23]The play upon the word is scarcely translatable. "Contre-maÃ®tre" in the singular means foreman; as it is used here it means against the master.â€”Editor.[24]RÃ©gnier's nose was always a subject of jokes among his fellow-actors. "It is not because it is large," said Beauvallet, "but because it is his principal organ of speech."â€”Editor.[25]Damages claimed by one of the parties, pending the final verdict.â€”Editor.[26]Curiously enough, it was Ã‰mile Augier's "AventuriÃ¨re" that caused Mdlle. Plessy's secession, just as it did thirty-five years later, in the case of Mdlle. Sarah Bernhardt.â€”Editor.[27]There are several English versions of the play, and I am under the impression that the late Tom Robertson was inspired by it when he adapted "Caste." I allude to that scene in the third act, where George d'Alroy returns unexpectedly and where Polly Eccles breaks the news to her sister.â€”Editor.[28]I have taken some pains to unearth this play. It was called "Amazampo; or, The Discovery of Quinine." The scene was laid in Peru in 1636. Amazampo, the chief of a Peruvian tribe, is in love with MaÃ¯da, who on her part is in love with Ferdinand, the son of the viceroy. Amazampo is heart-broken, and is stricken down with fever. In his despair and partial delirium he tries to poison himself, and drinks the water of a pool in which several trunks of a tree calledkina, reported poisonous, have been lying for years. He feels the effect almost immediately, but not the effect he expected. He recovers, and takes advantage of his recovered health to forget his love passion, and to be avenged upon the oppressors of his country, many of whom are dying with fever. Lima becomes a huge cemetery. Then the wife of the viceroy is stricken down. MaÃ¯da wishes to save her, but is forestalled by Amazampo, who compels Dona Theodora to drink the liquor, and so forth. But Amazampo and MaÃ¯da die.â€”Editor.[29]Alexis Azevedo, one of the best musical critics of the time, as enthusiastic in his likes as unreasoning in his dislikes. He became a fervent admirer of FÃ©licien David.â€”Editor.[30]Written in 1882.[31]The HÃ´tel Bullion was formerly the town mansion of the financier of that name, and situated in the Rue CoquilliÃ¨re.â€”Editor.[32]The annual salon was held in the Louvre then; in 1849 it was transferred to the Tuileries. In 1850, '51, and '52 it was removed to the galleries of the Palais-Royal; in 1853 and '54 the salon was held in the HÃ´tel des Menus-Plaisirs, in the Faubourg PoissonniÃ¨re, which became afterwards the storehouse for the scenery of the Grand OpÃ©ra. In 1855 the exhibition took place in a special annex of the Palais de l'Industrie; after that, it was lodged in the Palais itself.â€”Editor.[33]Alfred de Dreux was not an unknown figure in London society. He came in 1848. He was a kind of Comte d'Orsay, and painted chiefly equestrian figures. After the Coup d'Ã‰tat he returned to Paris, and was patronized by society, and subsequently by NapolÃ©on III. himself, whose portrait he painted. He was killed in a duel, the cause of which has never been revealed.â€”Editor.[34]Laurent-Jan was a witty, though incorrigibly idle journalist. He is entirely forgotten now save by such men as MM. ArsÃ¨ne Houssaye and Roger de Beauvoir, who were his contemporaries. He was the author of a clever parody on Kotzebue's "Menschenhasz und Reue," known on the English stage as "The Stranger."â€”Editor.[35]When there was no public occasion, his political antagonists or merely practical jokers who knew of his dislike invented one, like Edouard d'Ourliac, a well-known journalist and the author of several novels, who, whenever he had nothing better to do, recruited a band of street arabs to go and sing the Marseillaise under the king's windows. They kept on singing until Louis-Philippe, in sheer self-defence, was obliged to come out and join in the song.â€”Editor.[36]In France it is the Patron Saint's day, not the birthday, that is kept.[37]I have inserted them here in order not to fall into repetitions on the same subject.â€”Editor.[38]Louis-FranÃ§ois Dubois, the author of several heroic poems, "AnkarstrÃ¶m," "GeneviÃ¨ve et Siegfried," etc., which are utterly forgotten. His main title to the recollection of posterity consists in his having saved, during the Revolution, a great many literary works of value, which he returned to the State afterwards.â€”Editor.[39]It reminds one of the answer of the younger Dumas to a gentleman whose wife had been notorious for her conjugal faithlessness, and whose sons were all weaklings. "Ah, Monsieur Dumas, c'est un fils comme vous qu'il me fallait," he exclaimed. "Mon cher monsieur," came the reply, "quand on veut avoir un fils comme moi, il faut le faire soi-mÃªme."â€”Editor.[40]She had unconsciously borrowed the words from the Duchesse de Coislin, who, under similar circumstances a few years before, said to Madame de Chateaubriand, "Cela sent la parvenue; nous autres, femmes de la cour, nous n'avions que deux chemises; on les renouvelait quand elles Ã©taient usÃ©es; nous Ã©tions vÃªtues de robes de soie et nous n'avions pas l'air de grisettes comme ces demoiselles de maintenant."â€”Editor.[41]The mother of Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, the present ruler of Bulgaria. She was a particular favourite of Queen Victoria, and Louis-Philippe himself not only considered her the cleverest of his three daughters, but the most likely successor to his sister Adelaide, as his private adviser. That the estimate of her abilities was by no means exaggerated, subsequent events have proved. The last time I saw the princess was at the garden party at Sheen-House, on the occasion of the silver wedding of the Count and Countess de Paris. I did not remember her for the moment, for a score of years had made a difference. I asked an Austrian attachÃ© who she was. The answer came pat, "Alexander III.'s nightmare, Francis-Joseph's bogy, and Bismarck's sleeping draught; one of the three clever women in Europe; Bulgaria's mother."â€”Editor.[42]There was a similar divergence of dynastic opinion during the Second Empire between the sovereign and those placed very near him on the throne. When Alphonse Daudet came to Paris to make a name in literature, the Duc de Morny offered him a position as secretary. "Before I accept it, monsieur le duc, I had better tell you that I am a Legitimist," replied the future novelist. "Don't let that trouble you," laughed De Morny; "so am I to a certain extent, and the Empress is even more of a Legitimist than I am."â€”Editor.[43]In order to understand this dread on Montauban's part, the English reader should be told that the termpÃ©kinis the contemptuous nickname for the civilian, with the French soldier.â€”Editor.[44]The author, as will be seen directly, saw nothing of that massacre, though he must have passed within a few hundred yards of the spot immediately before it began. It would have been the same if he had; he could not have explained the cause, seeing that the most painstaking historians who have consulted the most trustworthy eye-witnesses have failed to do so. It will always remain a mystery whence the first shot came, whether from the military who were drawn up across the Boulevard des Capucines, on the spot where now stands the Grand CafÃ©, or from the crowd that wanted to pass, in order to proceed to Odilon-Barrot's to serenade him, because, notwithstanding the opposition of the king, he was to be included in the new ministry, which MolÃ© had been instructed to form. It may safely be said, however, that, but for that shot and the slaughter consequent upon it, the revolution might have been averted thenâ€”after all, perhaps, only temporarily.â€”Editor.[45]The author is slightly mistaken. The two ugliest men in France in the nineteenth century were Andrieux, who wrote "Les Ã‰tourdis," and LittrÃ©; but Cremieux ran them very hard.â€”Editor.[46]So called after a large ornamental fountain; the same, I believe, which subsequently was transferred to what is now called the Place de la RÃ©publique, and which finally found its way to the Avenue Daumesnil, where it stands at present.â€”Editor.[47]In the documents relating to the affair at Strasburg, there is the report to Louis-Philippe by an officer in the 46th regiment of the line, named PleignÃ©, in which the latter, borrowing the process of Balzac as applied to the French of the Baron de Nucingen, credits Louis-NapolÃ©on with the following phrase: "Fous Ãªtes tecorÃ© de Chuillet; fous tefez Ãªtre un prafe, che vous tÃ©core."â€”Editor.[48]The four knights of a Carlovingian legend, who were mounted on one horse named Bayard.â€”Editor.[49]During the sacking of the Tuileries, the mob ruthlessly destroyed the busts and pictures of every living son of Louis-Philippe, with the exception of those of the Prince de Joinville.â€”Editor.[50]The remark was not original. The Marquise d'EspremÃ©nil said it of herself when she saw her son join the Revolution of '89.â€”Editor.[51]The peripatetic vendors of songs, dressed as nobles, who up till '60 were frequently singing their compositions in the street.â€”Editor.[52]FrÃ©dÃ©ric Xavier de MÃ©rode was the descendant of an ancient Flemish family, and became an influential member of the Prelatura. He took an active share in the organization of the Papal troops which fought at Mentana. There is a romantic but absolutely true story connected with his military career. He was from his very youth intended for the priesthood, but one day, when he was but nineteen, he had a quarrel with a fellow-student, who gave him a box on the ears. M. de MÃ©rode was too conscientious a Catholic to fight a duel, and still his pride forbade him to remain under the imputation of being a coward. So he enlisted first in a Belgian, subsequently in a foreign regiment, and proved his courage. He was very hot-tempered, and had frequent disagreements with Generals LamoriciÃ¨re and De Guyon, and even with Pius IX. himself, who, on the occasion of the promulgation of the decree of infallibility, positively forbade him to enter the Vatican again. But he soon afterwards made his peace with the Pontiff. His worst enemiesâ€”and he had manyâ€”never questioned his sincerity and loyalty.â€”Editor.[53]If Comte Walewski ruled NapolÃ©on III., the second Comtesse Walewska, who was an Italian by birth and very handsome, absolutely ruled her husband. The first Comtesse Walewska was Lord Sandwich's daughter.â€”Editor.[54]It is equally curious to note, perhaps, that M. GrÃ©vy, who occupied the presidential chair of the Third Republic for a longer period than his two predecessors, was in many respects like Louis-Philippe, notably in his love of money.â€”Editor.[55]Before that it bore the name of the Rue des Trois-Hautbois, and in the heyday of the Second Empire it was changed into the Rue EugÃ¨ne-Rouher. But at the fall of Sedan the indignation against the Emperor's powerful minister was so great that his carriages had to be removed from Riom lest they should be burned by the mob, and the street resumed its old appellation. In November, 1887, three years after Rouher's death, I happened to be at Clermont-Ferrand waiting for General Boulanger to go to Paris. I went over to Riom and had a look at the house. It was occupied by a carpenter or joiner, to whose father it had been sold years previously by the express wish of one of EugÃ¨ne Rouher's daughters. I got into conversation with an intelligent inhabitant of the town, who told me that on the 4th of September, 1870, the feeling against Rouher was much stronger than against Louis-NapolÃ©on himself, yet that feeling was an implied compliment to Rouher. "He was the cleverer of the two," the people shouted; "he ought not to have allowed the Emperor to engage in this war. He could have prevented it with one word." Nevertheless, in a little while it abated, and Rouher was elected a member of the National Assembly.â€”Editor.[56]De Morny's prophecy turned out correct. M. EugÃ¨ne Rouher died a poor man. There is a comic story connected with this poverty. At the beginning of the Republic, and during the presidency of Thiers, Rouher's house was constantly watched by detectives. The weather was abominably bad; it rained constantly. Madame Rouher sent them some cotton umbrellas, excusing herself for not sending silk ones, because she could not afford it.â€”Editor.[57]The diminutive of "cave" (cellar). Really a gathering of poets and songwriters, which reached its highest reputation in Paris during the early part of the present century. The Saturday nights at the Savage Club are perhaps the nearest approach to it in London.â€”Editor.[58]The term for the French bench, consisting of judges; theparquet,i. e.those to whom the public prosecution is confided, are called "la magistrature debout." As a rule, the latter have a great deal more talent than the former. "What are you going to do with your son?" asked a gentleman of his friend. "I am going to make a magistrate of himâ€”'debout,' if he is strong enough to keep on his legs; 'assis,' if he be not."â€”Editor.[59]The author alludes to the Madame Cardinal of Ludovic HalÃ©vy, who sequestrates her daughter because the baron, her would-be protector, is hanging back with the settlements.â€”Editor.[60]Dupin's feet were enormous, and, furthermore, invariably shod in thick, hobnailed bluchers. He himself was always jestingly alluding to them; and one day, on the occasion of a funeral of a friend, which he could not possibly attend, he suggested sending his boots instead. "People send their empty conveyance: I'll send mine," he said.â€”Editor.[61]MÃ©rimÃ©e, the author of "Carmen," who knew something of Spanish women, and of the female members of the Montijo family in particular, said that God had given them the choice between love and wit, and that they had chosen the former.â€”Editor.[62]The lampion was the three-cornered hat, cocked on all sides alike in the shape of a spout, and stiffened with wire.â€”Editor.[63]"Wearing the king's button" is a very old French sporting term, signifying permission to wear the dress or the buttons or both, similar to those of the monarch when following the hounds.â€”Editor.[64]Known on the English stage as the "Queen's Shilling," by Mr. Godfrey.â€”Editor.[65]The Sainte-EugÃ©nie, according to the Church Calendar. In France, it is not the birthday, but the day of the patron-saint whose name one bears, which is celebrated.â€”Editor.[66]"D'Hozier," the French "Burke," so named after its founder, Pierre D'Hozier, the creator of the science of French genealogy.â€”Editor.[67]Anne, Louise, BÃ©nÃ©dicte de Bourbon, Princesse de CondÃ©, who married the Duc du Maine, the illegitimate son of Louis XIV. and Madame de Montespan. She disliked her husband, whom she considered socially beneath her, and who was very ugly besides. The lines quoted above are probably not hers, but Malezieu's, "her poet in ordinary," who also organized her amateur theatricals.â€”Editor.[68]Idiomatically, "the bores, the spoil-sports, or wet-blankets."â€”Editor.[69]A character of one of MoliÃ¨re's plays, who lends her name to the play itself, and who, with her provincial clique, apes the manners of the court.[70]Mesdames Du Barry and Pompadour.[71]"Ã‰quipage" is the right word. Applied to any but military or hunting uses, it is out of place, though frequently thus used.â€”Editor.[72]My translation by no means renders the vulgarity of the sentence. The French have three words to express their contempt for a speaker's opinion,se moquer,se ficher, andse... I omit the latter, but even the second is rarely used in decent society.â€”Editor.[73]It is a mistake. Not to mention Camille Desmoulins, who, when asked his age by his judge, replied, "The age of anothersans-culotte, Jesus." Esquiros frequently spoke of "that good patriot, Christ;" Lammenais began the draft of his constitution with "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, and by the will of the French people."â€”Editor.[74]Of course, David meant the spot where the remains had been interred at first.â€”Editor.[75]In 1782, when Heurtier, the architect, submitted his plan of the building which was intended for the Italian singing-actors, the latter offered a determined opposition to the idea of the theatre facing the Boulevards, lest they should be confounded with the small theatres on the Boulevard du Temple and in the direction of the present Boulevard des Filles-du-Calvaire. This extraordinary vanity was lampooned on all sides, and especially in aquatrain, which I forbear to quote even in French.â€”Editor.[76]Alexandre Dumas referred to a story in connection with the Comte de Saint-Simon and Madame de StaÃ«l which is not very generally known. One day the head of the new sect went to see the authoress of "Corinne." "Madame," he said, "vous Ãªtes la femme la plus remarquable en France; moi, je suis l'homme le plus remarquable. Si nous nous arrangions Ã vivre quelques mois ensemble, nous aurions peut-Ãªtre l'enfant le plus remarquable sur la terre." Madame de StaÃ«l politely declined the honour. As for the epithet of "l'ignorant" which Dumas was fond of applying to himself, it arose from the fact of Dumas, the celebrated professor of chemistry, being spoken of as "Dumas le savant." "Done," laughed the novelist, "je suis Dumas l'ignorant."â€”Editor.[77]Joseph Ferrari was an Italian by birth, but spent a great part of his time in France. He is best known by his "Philosophes SalariÃ©s," and died in Rome, 1876.â€”Editor.[78]I believe there exists an English version of the play, entitled "A Son of the Soil." I am not certain of the title.â€”Editor.[79]It was, in fact, an English officer who shouted, "Messieurs des gardes franÃ§aises, tirez;" to which the French replied, "Messieurs, nous ne tirons jamais les premiers; tirez vous mÃªmes." But it was not politeness that dictated the reply; it was the expression of the acknowledged and constantly inculcated doctrine that all infantry troops which fired the first were indubitably beaten. We find the doctrine clearly stated in the infantry instructions of 1672, and subsequently in the following order of Louis XIV. to his troops: "The soldier shall be taught not to fire the first, and to stand the fire of the enemy, seeing that an enemy who has fired is assuredly beaten when his adversary has his powder left." At the battle of Dettingen, consequently, two years before Fontenoy, the theory had been carriedbeyondthe absurd by expressly forbidding the Gardes to fire, though they were raked down by the enemy's bullets. Maurice de Saxe makes it a point to praise the wisdom of a colonel who, in order to prevent his troops from firing, constantly made them shoulder their muskets.â€”Editor.[80]"The receiver of the goods stolen from monarchies."â€”Editor.[81]In olden times, every community, corporation, and guild in France elected annually a king;â€”even the mendicants, whose ruler took the title of King PÃ©taud, from the Latinpeto, I ask. The latter's court, as a matter of course, was a perfect bear-garden, in which every one did as he liked, in which every one was as much sovereign as the titular one. The expression, "the Court of King PÃ©taud," became a synonym for everything that was disorderly, ridiculous, and disgusting."Oui, je sors de chez vous fort mal Ã©difiÃ©e;Dans toutes mes leÃ§ons j'y suis contrariÃ©e;On n'y respecte rien, chacun y parle haut,Et c'est tout justement la cour du roi PÃ©taud."(MoliÃ¨re, "Tartuffe," Act i. Sc. 1.)â€”Editor.[82]The first from "Les Mousquetaires de la Reine;" the second from "Charles VI."â€”Editor.[83]Goethe, in his journey through France, noticed that the peasants who drove his carriage invariably refused to eat the soldiers' bread, which he found to his taste.â€”Editor.[84]"Mettre du beurre dans ses Ã©pinards," means, figuratively, to increase one's comforts.â€”Editor.[85]The proverb is, "Ventre affamÃ© n'a pas d'oreilles."â€”Editor.[86]The Arabkuskusgenerally consists of a piece of mutton baked in a paste with the vegetables of the season, flavoured with herbs; and the addition of half a dozen hard-boiled eggs. The whole of the flesh is boned.â€”Editor.[87]Five hundred French grammes make seventeen ounces English, and a fraction.â€”Editor.[88]A similar measure had been decided upon in 1814, under analogous circumstances, but the maximum was twenty francs instead of fifty francs.â€”Editor.[89]A curious feature in connection with the pledging of tools and implements may be recorded here. At the termination of the siege, a committee in London transmitted 20,000 francs (Â£800) for the express purpose of redeeming these. The Paris committee entrusted with the task, while grateful for the solicitude shown, rightly considered that it would notgovery far, considering that, at the time, the Mont-de-PiÃ©tÃ© held a total of 1,708,549 articles, representing loans to the amount of 37,502,743 francs. The authorities took particular pains to publish the receipt of the 20,000 francs, and the purposes thereof. Within a given time, they returned 6,430 francs to the committee. Only 2,383 tools (or sets of tools) had been redeemed, representing a lent value of 13,570 francs.[90]Here are the two English readings, as far as I am able to give them:â€”"WINE AT EIGHTEEN SOUS THE LITREAND UPWARDS.Roast Beef.Ragout of Mutton.""WINE AT EIGHTEEN SOUS THE LITREAND WATER ATOP.Old Crock's Flesh.Rat Tasting of Mutton."â€”Editor.[91]The word "Godillot" has passed into the French language, and, at present, means the soldier's shoes.â€”Editor.[92]During my stay in Paris, 1881-86, as the correspondent of a London evening paper, I had occasion to see a great deal of M. Maxime Lisbonne, who is a prominent figure at nearly every social function, such as premiÃ¨res, the unveiling of monuments, the opening of public buildings, etc. The reason of this prominence has never been very clear to me, unless it be on the assumption that the Paris journalists, even the foremost of whom he treats on the footing of equality, consider him "good copy." Only as late as a few years ago, he made a considerable sensation in the Paris press by appearing at one of M. Carnot's receptions in evening dress, redolent of benzine, "because the dress had been lyingperdufor so many years." It was he who started the famous "taverne du bagne," on the Boulevard Rochechouart, to which "all Paris" flocked. Previous to this, he had been the lessee of the Bouffes du Nord, at which theatre he brought out Louise Michel's "Nadine." Though by no means an educated man, he can, on occasions, behave himself very well, and truth compels me to state that he is very good-natured and obliging. One day, on the occasion of an important murder trial, I failed to see Commandant Lunel at the Palais de Justice, and was turning away disconsolately, when, at a sign from M. Lisbonne, the sergeant of the Gardes de Paris, who had refused to admit me on the presentation of my card, relented. That same afternoon, at the mere expression of his wish, the manager of the Jardin de Paris, which had just been opened, presented me with a season ticket, or, to speak correctly, placed my name on the permanent free list. In short, I could mention a score of instances of a similar nature; all tending to show that M. Maxime Lisbonne's "participation in the events of the Commune" has had the effect of investing him with a kind of social halo.â€”Editor.

Footnotes

[1]The "lettre de faire part" is an intimation of a birth, marriage, or death sent to the friends, and even mere acquaintances, of a family.â€”Editor.

[2]The lithographers were almost the first in France to form a co-operative society, but not in the sense of the Rochdale pioneers, which dates from about the same period. The Lacrampe Association was for supplying lithographic work. It began in the Passage du Caire with ten members, and in a short time numbered two hundred workmen.â€”Editor.

[3]Guillaume LethiÃ¨re, whose real name was Guillon, was a native of Guadeloupe. He fought and seriously wounded several officers because the latter had objected to "a mere dauber wearing moustaches." He was obliged to leave Paris, but, thanks to the protection of Lucien Bonaparte, was appointed Director of the French AcadÃ©mie at Rome.â€”Editor.

[4]This reluctance to handle coppers proved a sore grief to his more economical and less fastidious brother Paul, who watched like a guardian angel over his junior, whom he worshipped. It is on record that he only said a harsh word to him once in his life, namely, when they wanted to make him, Paul, a member of the AcadÃ©mie FranÃ§aise. "C'est bien assez d'un immortel dans la famille," he replied to those who counselled him to stand. Then, turning to his brother, "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu t'es fourrÃ© dans cette galÃ¨re, si elle est assez grande pour moi, tu dois y Ãªtre joliment Ã l'Ã©troit." It is difficult to imagine a greater instance of brotherly pride and admiration, because Paul de Musset was by no means a nonentity, only from a very early age he had always merged his individuality in that of Alfred. To some one who once remarked upon this in my hearing, he answered, "Que voulez-vous? c'est comme cela: Alfred a eu toujours la moitiÃ© du lit, seulement la moitiÃ© Ã©tait toujours prise du milieu."

[5]The name of the military prison which was originally built on the site of the former CollÃ©ge Montaigu, where the scholars were almost exclusively fed on haricot beans. Throughout its removals the prison preserved its nickname.â€”Editor.

[6]There were two Tivoli gardens, both in the same neighbourhood, the site of the present Quartier de l'Europe. The author is alluding to the second, so often mentioned in the novels of Paul de Kock.â€”Editor.

[7]The latter plea was, in fact, advanced by Pillet's counsel in the first instance, on Roqueplan's advice, and perhaps influenced the court; for though it gave a verdict for the plaintiff, it was only forseven francs(the price of the stall), and costs. The verdict was based upon the "consideration" that the defendant had not carried out altogether the promise set forth on the programme.

[8]Alexandre Dumas had a marvellously small foot.â€”Editor.

[9]Literally, a basket with holes in it; figuratively, the term applied to irreclaimable spendthrifts.â€”Editor.

[10]The word "shrew" is the nearest equivalent.â€”Editor.

[11]Jules-Henri de Saint-Georges, one of the most fertile librettists of the time, the principal collaborateur of Scribe, and best known in England as the author of the book of Balfe's "Bohemian Girl."â€”Editor.

[12]The Ã‰lysÃ©e-Bourbon, which was the official residence of Louis-NapolÃ©on during his presidency of the second republic, was almost untenanted during the reign of Louis-Philippe.

The HÃ´tel Pontalba was partly built on the site of the former mansion of M. de Morfontaine, a staunch royalist, who, curiously enough, had married the daughter of Le Peletier de Saint-Fargeau, the member of the Convention who had voted the death of Louis XVI., and who himself fell by the hand of an assassin. Mdlle. le Peletier Saint-Fargeau was called "La Fille de la Nation."â€”Editor.

[13]One of the great wits of the Revolution.â€”Editor.

[14]M. EugÃ¨ne Pelletan, the father of M. Camille Pelletan, the editor ofLa Justice, and first lieutenant to M. Clemenceau, having severely criticized some passages in M. Blanc's "Histoire de la RÃ©volution," relating to Marie-Antoinette, the author quoted a passage of Madame Campan's "MÃ©moires" in support of his writings. The critic refused to admit the conclusiveness of the proof, whereupon M. Blanc appealed to the SociÃ©tÃ© des Gens de Lettres, which, on the summing up of M. Taxile Delord, gave a verdict in his favour. M. Pelletan declined to submit to the verdict, as he had refused to admit the jurisdiction, of the tribunal. M. Blanc, who had at first scouted all idea of a duel, considered himself obliged to resort to this means of obtaining satisfaction, seeing that M. Pelletan stoutly maintained his opinion. A meeting had been arranged when the Revolution of '48 broke out. The opponents having both gone to the HÃ´tel-de-Ville, met by accident at the entrance, and fell into one another's arms. "Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Thiers, when he heard of it. "If Pelletan had killed Blanc, I should have been the smallest man in France."

M. Blanc's allusion to other "preux chevaliers" aimed particularly at M. Cousin, who, having become a minister against his will, resumed with a sigh of relief his studies under the Second Empire. He was especially fond of the seventeenth century, and all at once he, who had scarcely ever noticed a pretty woman, became violently smitten with the Duchesse de Longueville, who had been in her grave for nearly two centuries. He positively invested her with every perfection, moral and mental; unfortunately, he could not invest her with a shapely bust, the evidence being too overwhelmingly against her having been adorned that way. One day some one showed him a portrait of the sister of the "grand CondÃ©," in which she was amply provided with the charms the absence of which M. Cousin regretted. He wrote a special chapter on the subject, and was well-nigh challenging all his contradictors.â€”Editor.

[15]The great fencing-master, whom Dumas immortalized in his "MaÃ®tre d'Armes."â€”Editor.

[16]The English nobleman must have been Lord Malmesbury, who alludes to her as follows: "This was a most remarkable woman, and may be said by her conduct at Munich to have set fire to the magazine of revolution, which was ready to burst forth all over Europe, and which made the year 1848 memorable. I made her acquaintance by accident, as I was going up to London from Heron Court, in the railway. The Consul at Southampton asked me to take charge of a Spanish lady who had been recommended to his care, and who had just landed. I consented to do this, and was introduced by him to a remarkably handsome person, who was in deep mourning, and who appeared to be in great distress. As we were alone in the carriage, she, of her own accord, informed me, in bad English, that she was the widow of Don Diego Leon, who had lately been shot by the Carlists after he was taken prisoner, and that she was going to London to sell some Spanish property that she possessed, and give lessons in singing, as she was very poor. On arriving in London she took some lodgings, and came to my house to a little concert which I gave, and sang some Spanish ballads. Her accent was foreign, and she had all the appearance of being what she pretended to be. She sold different things, such as veils, etc., to the party present, and received a good deal of patronage. Eventually she took an engagement for the ballet at the Opera House, but her dancing was very inferior. At last she was recognized as an impostor, her real name being Mrs. James, and Irish by extraction, and had married an officer in India. Her engagement at the OpÃ©ra was cancelled, she left the country, and retired to Munich. She was a very violent woman, and actually struck one of the Bavarian generals as he was reviewing the troops. The king became perfectly infatuated with her beauty and cleverness, and gave her large sums of money, with a title, which she afterwards bore when she returned to England." ("Memoirs of an Ex-minister," by the Earl of Malmesbury.)

Lord Malmesbury is wrong in nearly every particular which he has got from hearsay. Lola MontÃ¨s did not retire to Munich after her engagement at the Opera House had been cancelled, but to Brussels, and from there to Warsaw. Nor did she play the all-important part in the Bavarian riots or revolution he ascribes to her. The author of these notes has most of the particulars of Lola MontÃ¨s' career previous to her appearance in Munich from her own lips, and, as he has already said, she was not in the least reticent about her scheming, especially when her scheming had failed. For the story of the events at Munich, I gather inferentially from his notes that he is indebted to Karl von Abel, King Ludwig's ultramontane minister, who came afterwards to Paris, and who, if I mistake not, was the father or the uncle of Herr von Abel, the Berlin correspondent of theTimes, some fourteen or fifteen years ago.â€”Editor.

[17]Lola MontÃ¨s was perfectly correct. It was Frederick IV. of Denmark, only the woman was not an adventuress like herself, but the Countess Reventlow, whom he had abducted.â€”Editor.

[18]"Companions in Walhalla."â€”Editor.

[19]The following is virtually a summary of an article by Count G. de Contades, in a French bibliographical periodical,Le Livre(Dec. 10, 1885), and shows how near Alexandre Dumas was to the truth. I have given it at great length. My excuse for so doing is the extraordinary popularity of Dumas' play with all classes of playgoers. As a consequence, there is not a single modern play, with the exception of those of Shakespeare, the genesis of which has been so much commented upon. It is no exaggeration to say that most educated playgoers, not to mention professional students of the drama, have at some time or other expressed a wish to know something more of the real Marguerite Gautier's parentage and antecedents than is shown by Dumas, either in his play or in his novel, or than what they could gather from the partly apocryphal details given by her contemporaries. Dumas himself, in his preface to the play, says that she was a farm servant. He probably knew no more than that, nor did Alphonsine Plessis herself. In after-years, the eminent dramatist had neither the time nor the inclination to search musty parish registers; Count de Contades has done so for him. Here are the results, as briefly as possible, of his researches. Alphonsine Plessis' paternal grandmother, "moitiÃ© mendiante et moitiÃ© prostituÃ©e," inhabited, a little less than a century ago, the small parish of LongÃ©-sur-Maire, which has since become simply LongÃ© in the canton of Briouze, arrondissement of Argentan (about thirty miles from AlenÃ§on). She had been nicknamed "La GuÃ©nuchetonne," a rustic version of the archaic French wordguÃ©nippe(slattern). Louis Descours, a kind of country clod who had entered the priesthood without the least vocation, and just because his people wished him to do so, becomes enamoured of "La GuÃ©nuchetonne," and early in January, 1790, the curÃ© Philippe christens a male child, which is registered as Marin Plessis, mother Louis-RenÃ©e Plessis, father unknown. That the father was known well enough is proved by the Christian name bestowed upon the babe, Marin, which was that of Louis Descours' father. This gallant adventure of the country priest was an open secret for miles around.

Marin Plessis grew into a handsome fellow, and when about twenty took to travelling in the adjacent provinces of lower and upper Normandy with a pack of small wares. Handsome and amiable besides, he was a welcome guest everywhere, and soon became a great favourite with the female part of the Normandy peasantry. For a little while he flitted from one rustic beauty to another, until he was fairly caught by one more handsome than the rest, Marie Deshayes. She was not, perhaps, immaculately virtuous, but, apart from her extraordinary personal attractions, she was something more than an ordinary peasant girl.

Some sixty years before Marin Plessis' union with Marie Deshayes, there lived in the neighbourhood of Evreux a spinster lady of good descent, though not very well provided with worldly goods. She was comely and sweet-tempered enough, but then, as now, comeliness and a sweet temper do not count for much in the French matrimonial market, and least of all in the provincial one. Owing to the modesty of her marriage portion, she had no suitors for her hand, and, being of an exceedingly amorous disposition, she bestowed her affection where she could, "without regret, and without false shame," as the old French chronicler has it.

The annals of the villageâ€”for, curiously enough, these annals do exist, though only in manuscriptsâ€”are commendably reticent about the exact number and names of her lovers. It would seem that the author, a contemporary of Mdlle. Anne du Mesnil d'Argentelles and the great-grandfather of the present possessor of the notes, a gentleman near Bernay, was divided between the wish of not being too hard upon his neighbour, who was, after all, a gentle-woman, and the desire to leave a record of a peculiar phase of the country manners of those days to posterity. Be this as it may, Mdlle. d'Argentelles' swains, previous to the very last one, have been doomed to anonymous obscurity. But with the advent of Ã‰tienne Deshayes, the annalist becomes less reticent, he is considered worthy of being mentioned in full, perhaps as a reward for having finally "made an honest woman" of his inamorata. For that is the final upshot of the love-story between him and Mdlle. d'Argentelles, which, in its earlier stages, bears a certain resemblance to that between Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Madame de Warens, with this differenceâ€”that the Normand Jean-Jacques is considerably older than his mistress.

The children born of this marriage were very numerous. One of them, Louis-Deshayes, married a handsome peasant girl, Marie-Madeleine Marra, who appears to have been somewhat too intimate with a neighbouring squire, but who gave birth a few years after to a daughter, of whose paternity there could not be the smallest doubt, seeing that she grew up into a speaking likeness of her maternal grandmother, the erstwhile Mdlle. Anne du Mesnil d'Argentelles. Fate ought to have had a better lot in store for beautiful Marie Deshayes than a marriage with a poor pedlar like Marin Plessis; but the latter was very handsome, and, notwithstanding the opposition of the family, she became his wife. On the 15th of January, 1824, the child which was to be immortalized as "La Dame aux CamÃ©lias" saw the light, in a small village in Lower Normandy.â€”Editor.

[20]Curiously enough, he belonged to the same department, and died almost on the very spot where Marin Plessis was born.â€”Editor.

[21]An imitation of the line of Don Carlos in Hugo's "Hernani": "Empereur!... au refus de FrÃ©dÃ©ric-le-Sage!"â€”Editor.

[22]It shows that Lireux was not very familiar with the royal edicts affecting that order, and that Balzac himself exaggerated the social and monetary importance of its wearers. For, though Louis-Philippe at his accession suppressed the order, not less than twelve thousand new knights had been created by his two immediate predecessors. They, the recently created knights, were allowed to retain their honours and pensions; but, even before the fall of the Bourbons, the distinction had lost much of its prestige. After the Battle of Navarino, Admiral de Rigny, soliciting rewards for his officers who had distinguished themselves, tacitly ignored the order of Saint-Louis in favour of that of the Legion of Honour. The order, as founded by Louis XIV. in 1693, was only available to officers and Catholics. Several modifications were introduced afterwards in its statutes. The Order of Saint-Louis and that of "Military Merit" were the only two recognized by the Constituent Assembly of 1789; but the Convention suppressed the former, only leaving the latter.â€”Editor.

[23]The play upon the word is scarcely translatable. "Contre-maÃ®tre" in the singular means foreman; as it is used here it means against the master.â€”Editor.

[24]RÃ©gnier's nose was always a subject of jokes among his fellow-actors. "It is not because it is large," said Beauvallet, "but because it is his principal organ of speech."â€”Editor.

[25]Damages claimed by one of the parties, pending the final verdict.â€”Editor.

[26]Curiously enough, it was Ã‰mile Augier's "AventuriÃ¨re" that caused Mdlle. Plessy's secession, just as it did thirty-five years later, in the case of Mdlle. Sarah Bernhardt.â€”Editor.

[27]There are several English versions of the play, and I am under the impression that the late Tom Robertson was inspired by it when he adapted "Caste." I allude to that scene in the third act, where George d'Alroy returns unexpectedly and where Polly Eccles breaks the news to her sister.â€”Editor.

[28]I have taken some pains to unearth this play. It was called "Amazampo; or, The Discovery of Quinine." The scene was laid in Peru in 1636. Amazampo, the chief of a Peruvian tribe, is in love with MaÃ¯da, who on her part is in love with Ferdinand, the son of the viceroy. Amazampo is heart-broken, and is stricken down with fever. In his despair and partial delirium he tries to poison himself, and drinks the water of a pool in which several trunks of a tree calledkina, reported poisonous, have been lying for years. He feels the effect almost immediately, but not the effect he expected. He recovers, and takes advantage of his recovered health to forget his love passion, and to be avenged upon the oppressors of his country, many of whom are dying with fever. Lima becomes a huge cemetery. Then the wife of the viceroy is stricken down. MaÃ¯da wishes to save her, but is forestalled by Amazampo, who compels Dona Theodora to drink the liquor, and so forth. But Amazampo and MaÃ¯da die.â€”Editor.

[29]Alexis Azevedo, one of the best musical critics of the time, as enthusiastic in his likes as unreasoning in his dislikes. He became a fervent admirer of FÃ©licien David.â€”Editor.

[30]Written in 1882.

[31]The HÃ´tel Bullion was formerly the town mansion of the financier of that name, and situated in the Rue CoquilliÃ¨re.â€”Editor.

[32]The annual salon was held in the Louvre then; in 1849 it was transferred to the Tuileries. In 1850, '51, and '52 it was removed to the galleries of the Palais-Royal; in 1853 and '54 the salon was held in the HÃ´tel des Menus-Plaisirs, in the Faubourg PoissonniÃ¨re, which became afterwards the storehouse for the scenery of the Grand OpÃ©ra. In 1855 the exhibition took place in a special annex of the Palais de l'Industrie; after that, it was lodged in the Palais itself.â€”Editor.

[33]Alfred de Dreux was not an unknown figure in London society. He came in 1848. He was a kind of Comte d'Orsay, and painted chiefly equestrian figures. After the Coup d'Ã‰tat he returned to Paris, and was patronized by society, and subsequently by NapolÃ©on III. himself, whose portrait he painted. He was killed in a duel, the cause of which has never been revealed.â€”Editor.

[34]Laurent-Jan was a witty, though incorrigibly idle journalist. He is entirely forgotten now save by such men as MM. ArsÃ¨ne Houssaye and Roger de Beauvoir, who were his contemporaries. He was the author of a clever parody on Kotzebue's "Menschenhasz und Reue," known on the English stage as "The Stranger."â€”Editor.

[35]When there was no public occasion, his political antagonists or merely practical jokers who knew of his dislike invented one, like Edouard d'Ourliac, a well-known journalist and the author of several novels, who, whenever he had nothing better to do, recruited a band of street arabs to go and sing the Marseillaise under the king's windows. They kept on singing until Louis-Philippe, in sheer self-defence, was obliged to come out and join in the song.â€”Editor.

[36]In France it is the Patron Saint's day, not the birthday, that is kept.

[37]I have inserted them here in order not to fall into repetitions on the same subject.â€”Editor.

[38]Louis-FranÃ§ois Dubois, the author of several heroic poems, "AnkarstrÃ¶m," "GeneviÃ¨ve et Siegfried," etc., which are utterly forgotten. His main title to the recollection of posterity consists in his having saved, during the Revolution, a great many literary works of value, which he returned to the State afterwards.â€”Editor.

[39]It reminds one of the answer of the younger Dumas to a gentleman whose wife had been notorious for her conjugal faithlessness, and whose sons were all weaklings. "Ah, Monsieur Dumas, c'est un fils comme vous qu'il me fallait," he exclaimed. "Mon cher monsieur," came the reply, "quand on veut avoir un fils comme moi, il faut le faire soi-mÃªme."â€”Editor.

[40]She had unconsciously borrowed the words from the Duchesse de Coislin, who, under similar circumstances a few years before, said to Madame de Chateaubriand, "Cela sent la parvenue; nous autres, femmes de la cour, nous n'avions que deux chemises; on les renouvelait quand elles Ã©taient usÃ©es; nous Ã©tions vÃªtues de robes de soie et nous n'avions pas l'air de grisettes comme ces demoiselles de maintenant."â€”Editor.

[41]The mother of Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, the present ruler of Bulgaria. She was a particular favourite of Queen Victoria, and Louis-Philippe himself not only considered her the cleverest of his three daughters, but the most likely successor to his sister Adelaide, as his private adviser. That the estimate of her abilities was by no means exaggerated, subsequent events have proved. The last time I saw the princess was at the garden party at Sheen-House, on the occasion of the silver wedding of the Count and Countess de Paris. I did not remember her for the moment, for a score of years had made a difference. I asked an Austrian attachÃ© who she was. The answer came pat, "Alexander III.'s nightmare, Francis-Joseph's bogy, and Bismarck's sleeping draught; one of the three clever women in Europe; Bulgaria's mother."â€”Editor.

[42]There was a similar divergence of dynastic opinion during the Second Empire between the sovereign and those placed very near him on the throne. When Alphonse Daudet came to Paris to make a name in literature, the Duc de Morny offered him a position as secretary. "Before I accept it, monsieur le duc, I had better tell you that I am a Legitimist," replied the future novelist. "Don't let that trouble you," laughed De Morny; "so am I to a certain extent, and the Empress is even more of a Legitimist than I am."â€”Editor.

[43]In order to understand this dread on Montauban's part, the English reader should be told that the termpÃ©kinis the contemptuous nickname for the civilian, with the French soldier.â€”Editor.

[44]The author, as will be seen directly, saw nothing of that massacre, though he must have passed within a few hundred yards of the spot immediately before it began. It would have been the same if he had; he could not have explained the cause, seeing that the most painstaking historians who have consulted the most trustworthy eye-witnesses have failed to do so. It will always remain a mystery whence the first shot came, whether from the military who were drawn up across the Boulevard des Capucines, on the spot where now stands the Grand CafÃ©, or from the crowd that wanted to pass, in order to proceed to Odilon-Barrot's to serenade him, because, notwithstanding the opposition of the king, he was to be included in the new ministry, which MolÃ© had been instructed to form. It may safely be said, however, that, but for that shot and the slaughter consequent upon it, the revolution might have been averted thenâ€”after all, perhaps, only temporarily.â€”Editor.

[45]The author is slightly mistaken. The two ugliest men in France in the nineteenth century were Andrieux, who wrote "Les Ã‰tourdis," and LittrÃ©; but Cremieux ran them very hard.â€”Editor.

[46]So called after a large ornamental fountain; the same, I believe, which subsequently was transferred to what is now called the Place de la RÃ©publique, and which finally found its way to the Avenue Daumesnil, where it stands at present.â€”Editor.

[47]In the documents relating to the affair at Strasburg, there is the report to Louis-Philippe by an officer in the 46th regiment of the line, named PleignÃ©, in which the latter, borrowing the process of Balzac as applied to the French of the Baron de Nucingen, credits Louis-NapolÃ©on with the following phrase: "Fous Ãªtes tecorÃ© de Chuillet; fous tefez Ãªtre un prafe, che vous tÃ©core."â€”Editor.

[48]The four knights of a Carlovingian legend, who were mounted on one horse named Bayard.â€”Editor.

[49]During the sacking of the Tuileries, the mob ruthlessly destroyed the busts and pictures of every living son of Louis-Philippe, with the exception of those of the Prince de Joinville.â€”Editor.

[50]The remark was not original. The Marquise d'EspremÃ©nil said it of herself when she saw her son join the Revolution of '89.â€”Editor.

[51]The peripatetic vendors of songs, dressed as nobles, who up till '60 were frequently singing their compositions in the street.â€”Editor.

[52]FrÃ©dÃ©ric Xavier de MÃ©rode was the descendant of an ancient Flemish family, and became an influential member of the Prelatura. He took an active share in the organization of the Papal troops which fought at Mentana. There is a romantic but absolutely true story connected with his military career. He was from his very youth intended for the priesthood, but one day, when he was but nineteen, he had a quarrel with a fellow-student, who gave him a box on the ears. M. de MÃ©rode was too conscientious a Catholic to fight a duel, and still his pride forbade him to remain under the imputation of being a coward. So he enlisted first in a Belgian, subsequently in a foreign regiment, and proved his courage. He was very hot-tempered, and had frequent disagreements with Generals LamoriciÃ¨re and De Guyon, and even with Pius IX. himself, who, on the occasion of the promulgation of the decree of infallibility, positively forbade him to enter the Vatican again. But he soon afterwards made his peace with the Pontiff. His worst enemiesâ€”and he had manyâ€”never questioned his sincerity and loyalty.â€”Editor.

[53]If Comte Walewski ruled NapolÃ©on III., the second Comtesse Walewska, who was an Italian by birth and very handsome, absolutely ruled her husband. The first Comtesse Walewska was Lord Sandwich's daughter.â€”Editor.

[54]It is equally curious to note, perhaps, that M. GrÃ©vy, who occupied the presidential chair of the Third Republic for a longer period than his two predecessors, was in many respects like Louis-Philippe, notably in his love of money.â€”Editor.

[55]Before that it bore the name of the Rue des Trois-Hautbois, and in the heyday of the Second Empire it was changed into the Rue EugÃ¨ne-Rouher. But at the fall of Sedan the indignation against the Emperor's powerful minister was so great that his carriages had to be removed from Riom lest they should be burned by the mob, and the street resumed its old appellation. In November, 1887, three years after Rouher's death, I happened to be at Clermont-Ferrand waiting for General Boulanger to go to Paris. I went over to Riom and had a look at the house. It was occupied by a carpenter or joiner, to whose father it had been sold years previously by the express wish of one of EugÃ¨ne Rouher's daughters. I got into conversation with an intelligent inhabitant of the town, who told me that on the 4th of September, 1870, the feeling against Rouher was much stronger than against Louis-NapolÃ©on himself, yet that feeling was an implied compliment to Rouher. "He was the cleverer of the two," the people shouted; "he ought not to have allowed the Emperor to engage in this war. He could have prevented it with one word." Nevertheless, in a little while it abated, and Rouher was elected a member of the National Assembly.â€”Editor.

[56]De Morny's prophecy turned out correct. M. EugÃ¨ne Rouher died a poor man. There is a comic story connected with this poverty. At the beginning of the Republic, and during the presidency of Thiers, Rouher's house was constantly watched by detectives. The weather was abominably bad; it rained constantly. Madame Rouher sent them some cotton umbrellas, excusing herself for not sending silk ones, because she could not afford it.â€”Editor.

[57]The diminutive of "cave" (cellar). Really a gathering of poets and songwriters, which reached its highest reputation in Paris during the early part of the present century. The Saturday nights at the Savage Club are perhaps the nearest approach to it in London.â€”Editor.

[58]The term for the French bench, consisting of judges; theparquet,i. e.those to whom the public prosecution is confided, are called "la magistrature debout." As a rule, the latter have a great deal more talent than the former. "What are you going to do with your son?" asked a gentleman of his friend. "I am going to make a magistrate of himâ€”'debout,' if he is strong enough to keep on his legs; 'assis,' if he be not."â€”Editor.

[59]The author alludes to the Madame Cardinal of Ludovic HalÃ©vy, who sequestrates her daughter because the baron, her would-be protector, is hanging back with the settlements.â€”Editor.

[60]Dupin's feet were enormous, and, furthermore, invariably shod in thick, hobnailed bluchers. He himself was always jestingly alluding to them; and one day, on the occasion of a funeral of a friend, which he could not possibly attend, he suggested sending his boots instead. "People send their empty conveyance: I'll send mine," he said.â€”Editor.

[61]MÃ©rimÃ©e, the author of "Carmen," who knew something of Spanish women, and of the female members of the Montijo family in particular, said that God had given them the choice between love and wit, and that they had chosen the former.â€”Editor.

[62]The lampion was the three-cornered hat, cocked on all sides alike in the shape of a spout, and stiffened with wire.â€”Editor.

[63]"Wearing the king's button" is a very old French sporting term, signifying permission to wear the dress or the buttons or both, similar to those of the monarch when following the hounds.â€”Editor.

[64]Known on the English stage as the "Queen's Shilling," by Mr. Godfrey.â€”Editor.

[65]The Sainte-EugÃ©nie, according to the Church Calendar. In France, it is not the birthday, but the day of the patron-saint whose name one bears, which is celebrated.â€”Editor.

[66]"D'Hozier," the French "Burke," so named after its founder, Pierre D'Hozier, the creator of the science of French genealogy.â€”Editor.

[67]Anne, Louise, BÃ©nÃ©dicte de Bourbon, Princesse de CondÃ©, who married the Duc du Maine, the illegitimate son of Louis XIV. and Madame de Montespan. She disliked her husband, whom she considered socially beneath her, and who was very ugly besides. The lines quoted above are probably not hers, but Malezieu's, "her poet in ordinary," who also organized her amateur theatricals.â€”Editor.

[68]Idiomatically, "the bores, the spoil-sports, or wet-blankets."â€”Editor.

[69]A character of one of MoliÃ¨re's plays, who lends her name to the play itself, and who, with her provincial clique, apes the manners of the court.

[70]Mesdames Du Barry and Pompadour.

[71]"Ã‰quipage" is the right word. Applied to any but military or hunting uses, it is out of place, though frequently thus used.â€”Editor.

[72]My translation by no means renders the vulgarity of the sentence. The French have three words to express their contempt for a speaker's opinion,se moquer,se ficher, andse... I omit the latter, but even the second is rarely used in decent society.â€”Editor.

[73]It is a mistake. Not to mention Camille Desmoulins, who, when asked his age by his judge, replied, "The age of anothersans-culotte, Jesus." Esquiros frequently spoke of "that good patriot, Christ;" Lammenais began the draft of his constitution with "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, and by the will of the French people."â€”Editor.

[74]Of course, David meant the spot where the remains had been interred at first.â€”Editor.

[75]In 1782, when Heurtier, the architect, submitted his plan of the building which was intended for the Italian singing-actors, the latter offered a determined opposition to the idea of the theatre facing the Boulevards, lest they should be confounded with the small theatres on the Boulevard du Temple and in the direction of the present Boulevard des Filles-du-Calvaire. This extraordinary vanity was lampooned on all sides, and especially in aquatrain, which I forbear to quote even in French.â€”Editor.

[76]Alexandre Dumas referred to a story in connection with the Comte de Saint-Simon and Madame de StaÃ«l which is not very generally known. One day the head of the new sect went to see the authoress of "Corinne." "Madame," he said, "vous Ãªtes la femme la plus remarquable en France; moi, je suis l'homme le plus remarquable. Si nous nous arrangions Ã vivre quelques mois ensemble, nous aurions peut-Ãªtre l'enfant le plus remarquable sur la terre." Madame de StaÃ«l politely declined the honour. As for the epithet of "l'ignorant" which Dumas was fond of applying to himself, it arose from the fact of Dumas, the celebrated professor of chemistry, being spoken of as "Dumas le savant." "Done," laughed the novelist, "je suis Dumas l'ignorant."â€”Editor.

[77]Joseph Ferrari was an Italian by birth, but spent a great part of his time in France. He is best known by his "Philosophes SalariÃ©s," and died in Rome, 1876.â€”Editor.

[78]I believe there exists an English version of the play, entitled "A Son of the Soil." I am not certain of the title.â€”Editor.

[79]It was, in fact, an English officer who shouted, "Messieurs des gardes franÃ§aises, tirez;" to which the French replied, "Messieurs, nous ne tirons jamais les premiers; tirez vous mÃªmes." But it was not politeness that dictated the reply; it was the expression of the acknowledged and constantly inculcated doctrine that all infantry troops which fired the first were indubitably beaten. We find the doctrine clearly stated in the infantry instructions of 1672, and subsequently in the following order of Louis XIV. to his troops: "The soldier shall be taught not to fire the first, and to stand the fire of the enemy, seeing that an enemy who has fired is assuredly beaten when his adversary has his powder left." At the battle of Dettingen, consequently, two years before Fontenoy, the theory had been carriedbeyondthe absurd by expressly forbidding the Gardes to fire, though they were raked down by the enemy's bullets. Maurice de Saxe makes it a point to praise the wisdom of a colonel who, in order to prevent his troops from firing, constantly made them shoulder their muskets.â€”Editor.

[80]"The receiver of the goods stolen from monarchies."â€”Editor.

[81]In olden times, every community, corporation, and guild in France elected annually a king;â€”even the mendicants, whose ruler took the title of King PÃ©taud, from the Latinpeto, I ask. The latter's court, as a matter of course, was a perfect bear-garden, in which every one did as he liked, in which every one was as much sovereign as the titular one. The expression, "the Court of King PÃ©taud," became a synonym for everything that was disorderly, ridiculous, and disgusting.

"Oui, je sors de chez vous fort mal Ã©difiÃ©e;Dans toutes mes leÃ§ons j'y suis contrariÃ©e;On n'y respecte rien, chacun y parle haut,Et c'est tout justement la cour du roi PÃ©taud."

(MoliÃ¨re, "Tartuffe," Act i. Sc. 1.)â€”Editor.

[82]The first from "Les Mousquetaires de la Reine;" the second from "Charles VI."â€”Editor.

[83]Goethe, in his journey through France, noticed that the peasants who drove his carriage invariably refused to eat the soldiers' bread, which he found to his taste.â€”Editor.

[86]The Arabkuskusgenerally consists of a piece of mutton baked in a paste with the vegetables of the season, flavoured with herbs; and the addition of half a dozen hard-boiled eggs. The whole of the flesh is boned.â€”Editor.

[87]Five hundred French grammes make seventeen ounces English, and a fraction.â€”Editor.

[88]A similar measure had been decided upon in 1814, under analogous circumstances, but the maximum was twenty francs instead of fifty francs.â€”Editor.

[89]A curious feature in connection with the pledging of tools and implements may be recorded here. At the termination of the siege, a committee in London transmitted 20,000 francs (Â£800) for the express purpose of redeeming these. The Paris committee entrusted with the task, while grateful for the solicitude shown, rightly considered that it would notgovery far, considering that, at the time, the Mont-de-PiÃ©tÃ© held a total of 1,708,549 articles, representing loans to the amount of 37,502,743 francs. The authorities took particular pains to publish the receipt of the 20,000 francs, and the purposes thereof. Within a given time, they returned 6,430 francs to the committee. Only 2,383 tools (or sets of tools) had been redeemed, representing a lent value of 13,570 francs.

[90]Here are the two English readings, as far as I am able to give them:â€”

"WINE AT EIGHTEEN SOUS THE LITREAND UPWARDS.Roast Beef.Ragout of Mutton."

"WINE AT EIGHTEEN SOUS THE LITREAND WATER ATOP.Old Crock's Flesh.Rat Tasting of Mutton."â€”Editor.

[91]The word "Godillot" has passed into the French language, and, at present, means the soldier's shoes.â€”Editor.

[92]During my stay in Paris, 1881-86, as the correspondent of a London evening paper, I had occasion to see a great deal of M. Maxime Lisbonne, who is a prominent figure at nearly every social function, such as premiÃ¨res, the unveiling of monuments, the opening of public buildings, etc. The reason of this prominence has never been very clear to me, unless it be on the assumption that the Paris journalists, even the foremost of whom he treats on the footing of equality, consider him "good copy." Only as late as a few years ago, he made a considerable sensation in the Paris press by appearing at one of M. Carnot's receptions in evening dress, redolent of benzine, "because the dress had been lyingperdufor so many years." It was he who started the famous "taverne du bagne," on the Boulevard Rochechouart, to which "all Paris" flocked. Previous to this, he had been the lessee of the Bouffes du Nord, at which theatre he brought out Louise Michel's "Nadine." Though by no means an educated man, he can, on occasions, behave himself very well, and truth compels me to state that he is very good-natured and obliging. One day, on the occasion of an important murder trial, I failed to see Commandant Lunel at the Palais de Justice, and was turning away disconsolately, when, at a sign from M. Lisbonne, the sergeant of the Gardes de Paris, who had refused to admit me on the presentation of my card, relented. That same afternoon, at the mere expression of his wish, the manager of the Jardin de Paris, which had just been opened, presented me with a season ticket, or, to speak correctly, placed my name on the permanent free list. In short, I could mention a score of instances of a similar nature; all tending to show that M. Maxime Lisbonne's "participation in the events of the Commune" has had the effect of investing him with a kind of social halo.â€”Editor.

Back to Index Next