(11th.) Went to Nôtre Dame to see the King and Royal Family, and saw them also walk in the street. (25th.) I went to the Institute and heard twoprix de vertuadjudged, and saw the prize given for the best poem on the art of printing; the prize poem was read by Le Mercier after the young man had received the prize, and Baron Cuvier delivered a most excellent discourse. My pleasure was increased by seeing Lally Tollendal opposite me, whom I recognised and was glad to see so young and well looking, still. Next day (26th.) Went with Victor Sauce to the Palais de Justice, and heard Dupin plead for Berton, and admirably, but he was condemned! In the evening at Gérard’s, the sentence was much talked of and condemned. On 1st day to Meeting, a solemn and favoured one, to me at least. 2nd day evening to the Missionary Meeting.
(11th.) Went to Nôtre Dame to see the King and Royal Family, and saw them also walk in the street. (25th.) I went to the Institute and heard twoprix de vertuadjudged, and saw the prize given for the best poem on the art of printing; the prize poem was read by Le Mercier after the young man had received the prize, and Baron Cuvier delivered a most excellent discourse. My pleasure was increased by seeing Lally Tollendal opposite me, whom I recognised and was glad to see so young and well looking, still. Next day (26th.) Went with Victor Sauce to the Palais de Justice, and heard Dupin plead for Berton, and admirably, but he was condemned! In the evening at Gérard’s, the sentence was much talked of and condemned. On 1st day to Meeting, a solemn and favoured one, to me at least. 2nd day evening to the Missionary Meeting.
Early in September she mentions the arrival of her friend Mrs. Austin, and her cousin, Mr. Briggs, with many others, in company with whom she paid visits and made excursions, each day giving a note of where and with whom, in her journal. On the 21st she paid her promised visit to La Grange, of which she writes:—
Startedpar la diligence, with a very agreeable companion, T. B., with whom on my return I am to visit theateliersof artists. At Rosoy, found the General’s cabriolet waiting; thought the approach to La Grange beautiful; an ancient castle, lawnà l’Anglaise. The General as usual, fresh, benevolent looking, and admirable, in all ways. His uncle, the celebrated Ségur, there; his daughters, son-in-law, and grandchildren all to my mind; a most happy day. (22nd.) Rose early with much thankfulness for unmerited mercies. (23rd.) At ten we assembled in thesalon; at half-past the General led me down to breakfast, a breakfast of hot meat and pottage, wines and fruit, ending with coffee and dry toast. After breakfast the weather cleared, and the General shewed us, and many newly-arrived guests, his farm, all but the Norfolk and other cows; they were out. Enjoyed our walk, afterwards went to seele jardin potager. At dinner, led, and placed as usual; the evening most interesting! The General gave us an account of some of the early events of the revolution, the other gentlemen assisting. The evening ended only too soon, but I read in my own room the Memoirs of Ségur, and with a curious feeling lay down, knowing I should see him and Lafayette next day!!(5th day, 25th.) Much pleased with Madame de L.’s schools, and walked in the park till the General admitted us into his library. What a library, full of interest! Theswordshe has, especially. The room round, and commanding his farm, as well as some beautiful willows, and points of view of home scenery. The dinner interesting, the evening not so much so: and it was my last!
Startedpar la diligence, with a very agreeable companion, T. B., with whom on my return I am to visit theateliersof artists. At Rosoy, found the General’s cabriolet waiting; thought the approach to La Grange beautiful; an ancient castle, lawnà l’Anglaise. The General as usual, fresh, benevolent looking, and admirable, in all ways. His uncle, the celebrated Ségur, there; his daughters, son-in-law, and grandchildren all to my mind; a most happy day. (22nd.) Rose early with much thankfulness for unmerited mercies. (23rd.) At ten we assembled in thesalon; at half-past the General led me down to breakfast, a breakfast of hot meat and pottage, wines and fruit, ending with coffee and dry toast. After breakfast the weather cleared, and the General shewed us, and many newly-arrived guests, his farm, all but the Norfolk and other cows; they were out. Enjoyed our walk, afterwards went to seele jardin potager. At dinner, led, and placed as usual; the evening most interesting! The General gave us an account of some of the early events of the revolution, the other gentlemen assisting. The evening ended only too soon, but I read in my own room the Memoirs of Ségur, and with a curious feeling lay down, knowing I should see him and Lafayette next day!!
(5th day, 25th.) Much pleased with Madame de L.’s schools, and walked in the park till the General admitted us into his library. What a library, full of interest! Theswordshe has, especially. The room round, and commanding his farm, as well as some beautiful willows, and points of view of home scenery. The dinner interesting, the evening not so much so: and it was my last!
Mrs. Opie’s stay in Paris was extended some weeks longer, during which she appears to have enjoyed, with great satisfaction, the opportunities for intercourse with her friends, and for seeing objects of interest around her. She mentions sitting to an artist, for Galignani, and also to her cousin, H. P. Briggs. On the 20th of October, “the saddest of anniversaries,” (that of her father’s death,) she left Paris, and on the 23rd went on board the King George, for England, and after a sixteen hours’ passage, arrived, “thankful for safe return,” in her native country.
Shortly after her return, she received the following letter from General Lafayette:—
La Grange, November 5th, 1829.Your kind letter, (17th of the 10th month,) dear and respected friend, for want of being directly sent to la Grange, has remained some days unreceived, and three days more unanswered, on account of an invitation to Provins, the mention of which you may have seen in theCourier Française, orJournal de Paris, November 3rd; so that I remain acquitted for the delay, and am anxious to acquit myself with a due tribute of gratitude, for these last testimonies of your indulging kindness. You don’t say whether the distinguished artist, your friend, remains in town. I hope I shall have the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with him. Remember me very kindly to your young cousin. The whole family at la Grange join in friendly compliments and good wishes to him and to you, dear Madam, and I am most cordially, Your obliged friend,Lafayette.P.S. With much pleasure I have read the appeal in behalf of the Greeks. The 200 sets of plates delivered to Doctor Temple, cannot be in better hands. The Rev. Jonas King is my particular friend. I much wish the religious zeal in behalf of Greece may have some influence on the policy of your government; when the Christian powers have it in their power, and it has become their duty, as well as their true interest, to insure, upon a large and liberal scale, the independence, liberty, and consequence, of that so very interesting nation.
La Grange, November 5th, 1829.
Your kind letter, (17th of the 10th month,) dear and respected friend, for want of being directly sent to la Grange, has remained some days unreceived, and three days more unanswered, on account of an invitation to Provins, the mention of which you may have seen in theCourier Française, orJournal de Paris, November 3rd; so that I remain acquitted for the delay, and am anxious to acquit myself with a due tribute of gratitude, for these last testimonies of your indulging kindness. You don’t say whether the distinguished artist, your friend, remains in town. I hope I shall have the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with him. Remember me very kindly to your young cousin. The whole family at la Grange join in friendly compliments and good wishes to him and to you, dear Madam, and I am most cordially, Your obliged friend,
Lafayette.
P.S. With much pleasure I have read the appeal in behalf of the Greeks. The 200 sets of plates delivered to Doctor Temple, cannot be in better hands. The Rev. Jonas King is my particular friend. I much wish the religious zeal in behalf of Greece may have some influence on the policy of your government; when the Christian powers have it in their power, and it has become their duty, as well as their true interest, to insure, upon a large and liberal scale, the independence, liberty, and consequence, of that so very interesting nation.
We add here some verses written by Mrs. Opie during this visit; inscribed,
ON SEEING THE TRICOLOR AGAIN.At sight of thee, O! Tricolor,I seem to feel youth’s hours return;The lov’d, the lost, those hours restore,—Again for freedom’s cause I burn!
ON SEEING THE TRICOLOR AGAIN.At sight of thee, O! Tricolor,I seem to feel youth’s hours return;The lov’d, the lost, those hours restore,—Again for freedom’s cause I burn!
ON SEEING THE TRICOLOR AGAIN.At sight of thee, O! Tricolor,I seem to feel youth’s hours return;The lov’d, the lost, those hours restore,—Again for freedom’s cause I burn!
ON SEEING THE TRICOLOR AGAIN.
At sight of thee, O! Tricolor,
I seem to feel youth’s hours return;
The lov’d, the lost, those hours restore,—
Again for freedom’s cause I burn!
When last those blended tints I saw,Napoleon’s laurell’d brow they grac’d,Ere, in despite of freedom’s law,The crown that simple badge displaced.
When last those blended tints I saw,Napoleon’s laurell’d brow they grac’d,Ere, in despite of freedom’s law,The crown that simple badge displaced.
When last those blended tints I saw,Napoleon’s laurell’d brow they grac’d,Ere, in despite of freedom’s law,The crown that simple badge displaced.
When last those blended tints I saw,
Napoleon’s laurell’d brow they grac’d,
Ere, in despite of freedom’s law,
The crown that simple badge displaced.
But now a different scene is nigh,Lo! freedom’s sons once more are met!See, patriots lift those colours high;Who leads them on?—their Lafayette!
But now a different scene is nigh,Lo! freedom’s sons once more are met!See, patriots lift those colours high;Who leads them on?—their Lafayette!
But now a different scene is nigh,Lo! freedom’s sons once more are met!See, patriots lift those colours high;Who leads them on?—their Lafayette!
But now a different scene is nigh,
Lo! freedom’s sons once more are met!
See, patriots lift those colours high;
Who leads them on?—their Lafayette!
See him, from dangers, dungeons, death,Escap’d through heaven’s almighty hand,To win again the civic wreath,And sav’d, to save his native land!
See him, from dangers, dungeons, death,Escap’d through heaven’s almighty hand,To win again the civic wreath,And sav’d, to save his native land!
See him, from dangers, dungeons, death,Escap’d through heaven’s almighty hand,To win again the civic wreath,And sav’d, to save his native land!
See him, from dangers, dungeons, death,
Escap’d through heaven’s almighty hand,
To win again the civic wreath,
And sav’d, to save his native land!
Hail! freedom’s dearest, purest son,What honours now adorn thy brow;Thou hast thehardestconquest won,The victor o’er thyself art thou!
Hail! freedom’s dearest, purest son,What honours now adorn thy brow;Thou hast thehardestconquest won,The victor o’er thyself art thou!
Hail! freedom’s dearest, purest son,What honours now adorn thy brow;Thou hast thehardestconquest won,The victor o’er thyself art thou!
Hail! freedom’s dearest, purest son,
What honours now adorn thy brow;
Thou hast thehardestconquest won,
The victor o’er thyself art thou!
Thy country’s good thy only aim,Thou couldst thy life’s loved dream resign;—Then take the meed thy virtues claim,And be the world’s loud plauditthine!
Thy country’s good thy only aim,Thou couldst thy life’s loved dream resign;—Then take the meed thy virtues claim,And be the world’s loud plauditthine!
Thy country’s good thy only aim,Thou couldst thy life’s loved dream resign;—Then take the meed thy virtues claim,And be the world’s loud plauditthine!
Thy country’s good thy only aim,
Thou couldst thy life’s loved dream resign;—
Then take the meed thy virtues claim,
And be the world’s loud plauditthine!
Shortly before Mrs. Opie left England, she had written to Mr. Southey, who answered her in a letter which was published in his “Memoirs.” In this letter he mentioned that he had sent her a copy of his “Colloquies,”—in which he had referred to her in these terms:—
“I have another woman in my mind’s eye; one who has been the liveliest of the lively, the gayest of the gay; admired for her talents by those who knew her only in her writings, and esteemed for her worth by those who were acquainted with her in the relations of private life; one who, having grown up in the laxest sect of semi-christians, felt the necessity of vital religion, while attending upon her father with dutiful affection, during the long and painful infirmities of his old age; and who has now joined a sect, distinguished from all others by its formalities and enthusiasm, because it was among its members that she first found the lively faith for which her soul thirsted. She has assumed the garb and even the shibboleth of the sect, not losing, in the change, her warmth of heart and cheerfulness of spirit, nor gaining by it any increase of sincerity and frankness; for with these, nature had endued her, and society, even that of the great, had not corrupted them. The resolution, the activity, the genius, the benevolence, which are required for such a work, are to be found in her; and were she present in person, as she is in imagination, I would say to her * * Thou art the woman!”[30]
“I have another woman in my mind’s eye; one who has been the liveliest of the lively, the gayest of the gay; admired for her talents by those who knew her only in her writings, and esteemed for her worth by those who were acquainted with her in the relations of private life; one who, having grown up in the laxest sect of semi-christians, felt the necessity of vital religion, while attending upon her father with dutiful affection, during the long and painful infirmities of his old age; and who has now joined a sect, distinguished from all others by its formalities and enthusiasm, because it was among its members that she first found the lively faith for which her soul thirsted. She has assumed the garb and even the shibboleth of the sect, not losing, in the change, her warmth of heart and cheerfulness of spirit, nor gaining by it any increase of sincerity and frankness; for with these, nature had endued her, and society, even that of the great, had not corrupted them. The resolution, the activity, the genius, the benevolence, which are required for such a work, are to be found in her; and were she present in person, as she is in imagination, I would say to her * * Thou art the woman!”[30]
“The work” in which Mr. Southey was anxious to engage the sympathies and aid of Mrs. Fry and Mrs. Opie, was the establishment of Societies for reforming the internal management of Hospitals and Infirmaries; so as “to do for the hospitals what Mrs. Fry had already done for the prisons.”
On her return to England, Mrs. Opie wrote to Mrs. Fry, communicating Mr. Southey’s letter; she replied:—
Upton, 12th, 12th mo., 1829.My dear Friend,I only yesterday heard from Catherine thy wish to have R. Southey’s letter returned. I now therefore send it thee at once; being in London I could not do it yesterday.Pray, dear friend, let me have a copy of it, because I think that there is much truth in its contents. I also wish thee seriously to weigh the subject, and if thou feelest, as well as seest, thy road to open in it, I shall be glad; because I have seen the thing wanted to be done, ever since the days of my youth. Is not London the place to begin such a work—or is the country? I think what has been accomplished in Liverpool is very important. Let me have thy sentiments upon all the points in question, and believe me,Thy very affectionate friend,E. Fry.
Upton, 12th, 12th mo., 1829.
My dear Friend,
I only yesterday heard from Catherine thy wish to have R. Southey’s letter returned. I now therefore send it thee at once; being in London I could not do it yesterday.
Pray, dear friend, let me have a copy of it, because I think that there is much truth in its contents. I also wish thee seriously to weigh the subject, and if thou feelest, as well as seest, thy road to open in it, I shall be glad; because I have seen the thing wanted to be done, ever since the days of my youth. Is not London the place to begin such a work—or is the country? I think what has been accomplished in Liverpool is very important. Let me have thy sentiments upon all the points in question, and believe me,
Thy very affectionate friend,
E. Fry.
From a passage in Mrs. Fry’s Life (vol. 2, p. 383) we find that, some years subsequently, her thoughts reverted to the subject; and the results are thus recorded.
“Mrs. Fry’s habitual acquaintance with the chamber of sickness, and with scenes of suffering and death, had taught her the necessity that exists for a class of women to attend upon such, altogether different and superior to the hireling nurses that are generally to be obtained. Her communications with Mr. Fliedner, and all she learned from him personally, of his establishment at Kaiserswerth, stimulated her desire to attempt something of the kind in England. Her own occupations being too urgent and numerous to allow of much personal attention, the plan was undertaken, and on a small scale carried into effect, by her sister, Mrs. S. Gurney, with the assistance of her daughters and some other ladies.”
“Mrs. Fry’s habitual acquaintance with the chamber of sickness, and with scenes of suffering and death, had taught her the necessity that exists for a class of women to attend upon such, altogether different and superior to the hireling nurses that are generally to be obtained. Her communications with Mr. Fliedner, and all she learned from him personally, of his establishment at Kaiserswerth, stimulated her desire to attempt something of the kind in England. Her own occupations being too urgent and numerous to allow of much personal attention, the plan was undertaken, and on a small scale carried into effect, by her sister, Mrs. S. Gurney, with the assistance of her daughters and some other ladies.”
Some misconception having arisen as to this institution, it was thought desirable to change the original designation of “Protestant Sisters of Charity,” for that of “Nursing Sisters.”
“The exertions of this little society (continues the Memoir) have been hitherto greatly circumscribed, and it may be looked upon more as an experiment, than as an object attained. The help of the “nursing sisters” has been sought and greatly valued by persons of all classes, from royalty to the poorest and most destitute.”
“The exertions of this little society (continues the Memoir) have been hitherto greatly circumscribed, and it may be looked upon more as an experiment, than as an object attained. The help of the “nursing sisters” has been sought and greatly valued by persons of all classes, from royalty to the poorest and most destitute.”
[28]
She mentioned afterwards, that the driver was much amused at seeing her do this, and at last said, “really, madame, you must be very fond of yourpetit chapeau, to give yourself so much trouble about it.” To which I replied, “oui, j’aime beaucoup mon petit chapeau—c’est mon petit Buonaparte.” Oh! what a look the man gave me! his fine dark eyes were almost fearfully bright, as, with a smile of delight, he cried, “vous êtes une brave femme, d’avoir osé me répondre de la sorte, et je vous jure, madame, que je vous menerais même en Angleterre!”
[29]
The engraving which forms the Frontispiece to this volume is taken from this medal.
[30]
Second volume of Southey’s “Colloquies,” at the 322nd page.—On reading this eloquent eulogium, Mrs. Opie observed, “It so overpowered me, that I could not read it through at first, and wept because the eye it would most have pleased, would not see it.”
REVOLUTION OF “THE THREE DAYS;” MRS. OPIE GOES TO PARIS AGAIN; HER JOURNAL THERE.
REVOLUTION OF “THE THREE DAYS;” MRS. OPIE GOES TO PARIS AGAIN; HER JOURNAL THERE.
The fearful events which transpired at Paris, in the summer of the year 1830, deeply and painfully interested Mrs. Opie. She wrote to her friends at Northrepps in the month of August, and an extract from her letter will best shew her feelings under the excitement of the time.
Norwich, 8th mo., 2nd, 1830.Dr. Ash shall not go to Northrepps without a letter. I think you will like to know how I am, under existing circumstances. I went to Wroxham on the election day, and should have enjoyed, even more than usual, the exquisite, and even increased stillness of that place, (as it appeared to me,) had not my calm been interrupted by the inquietude of mind, induced by the alarming news from Paris. The Chamber of Deputies dissolved for ever, and the liberty of the press abolished!! We saw the results of this news in the fearful perspective; and yesterday came the affecting tidings, that the National Guard had re-organized themselves; that Lafayette was at their head; that the Chamber had assembled, and voted their sittingperpetual, and had declared the thronevacant; that the king, ministers, court, and ambassadors, had left Paris, and were at Vincennes, or Brussels; that cannon was planted against the city; that it had fired, and killed 5000 persons, and the beautiful Rue de Rivoli was running with blood; and that they are to bestarvedinto submission.I humbly hope I shall be enabled to pray for my friends there, which is all Icando. “Whom the Gods mean to destroy they first make mad,” says some Latin proverb, and this seems illustrated now.You will readily believe how anxious, interested, and excited I feel. I was, and am, writing on the scenes of the Revolution in 1802, little dreaming that another was so near, in which some I love and reverence must be actors! * * *I am reading “Lafayette en Amerique!” Such a book! it fills me with untellable wonder and admiration of him, that suchworshipshould not have turned his head, and that he is still simple and seemingly humble-minded; and secondly, because hisyouthin America was evidently marked, not only by courage and talent, but by kind, generous actions, privately performed; and because it was his nature to do them. He gave them his money, I find by another work, as well as his time and exertions; therefore the gift of money and land to him, in his (comparative) poverty, was only a debt, repaid with interest. And how they honoured him! He was passed on from one State to another, almost through an unbroken chain of triumphal arches! But he always, amidst all his career, kept the Sabbath day holy. And this man, as it were miraculously preserved through two revolutions, and in chains, and in a dungeon, is now again the leading mind in another conflict, and lifting, I trust, not only an armed, but a restraining hand in a third revolution! May He who alone can save and direct, watch over and directhim! How many other now familiar faces, and I may add, dear also, do I see engaged in this awful struggle, and on different sides! Well, I must turn away from it as much as I can! Farewell my dear friends.
Norwich, 8th mo., 2nd, 1830.
Dr. Ash shall not go to Northrepps without a letter. I think you will like to know how I am, under existing circumstances. I went to Wroxham on the election day, and should have enjoyed, even more than usual, the exquisite, and even increased stillness of that place, (as it appeared to me,) had not my calm been interrupted by the inquietude of mind, induced by the alarming news from Paris. The Chamber of Deputies dissolved for ever, and the liberty of the press abolished!! We saw the results of this news in the fearful perspective; and yesterday came the affecting tidings, that the National Guard had re-organized themselves; that Lafayette was at their head; that the Chamber had assembled, and voted their sittingperpetual, and had declared the thronevacant; that the king, ministers, court, and ambassadors, had left Paris, and were at Vincennes, or Brussels; that cannon was planted against the city; that it had fired, and killed 5000 persons, and the beautiful Rue de Rivoli was running with blood; and that they are to bestarvedinto submission.
I humbly hope I shall be enabled to pray for my friends there, which is all Icando. “Whom the Gods mean to destroy they first make mad,” says some Latin proverb, and this seems illustrated now.
You will readily believe how anxious, interested, and excited I feel. I was, and am, writing on the scenes of the Revolution in 1802, little dreaming that another was so near, in which some I love and reverence must be actors! * * *
I am reading “Lafayette en Amerique!” Such a book! it fills me with untellable wonder and admiration of him, that suchworshipshould not have turned his head, and that he is still simple and seemingly humble-minded; and secondly, because hisyouthin America was evidently marked, not only by courage and talent, but by kind, generous actions, privately performed; and because it was his nature to do them. He gave them his money, I find by another work, as well as his time and exertions; therefore the gift of money and land to him, in his (comparative) poverty, was only a debt, repaid with interest. And how they honoured him! He was passed on from one State to another, almost through an unbroken chain of triumphal arches! But he always, amidst all his career, kept the Sabbath day holy. And this man, as it were miraculously preserved through two revolutions, and in chains, and in a dungeon, is now again the leading mind in another conflict, and lifting, I trust, not only an armed, but a restraining hand in a third revolution! May He who alone can save and direct, watch over and directhim! How many other now familiar faces, and I may add, dear also, do I see engaged in this awful struggle, and on different sides! Well, I must turn away from it as much as I can! Farewell my dear friends.
Unable, probably, to keep the prudential resolve, with which she concludes this letter, Mrs. Opie, full of irrepressible anxiety to be on the scene of action, very shortly came to the resolution to repair to Paris. She seems to have allowed very few of her friends to know of her determination, perhaps anticipating their remonstrances and objections. Her anxiety, however, was so great as to affect her health and spirits; and after a few weeks’ irresolution, her determination was made, and she was on her way to Paris. Her stay proved, in the event, longer than she had perhaps intended or anticipated. During the former part of the time she kept a Journal, from which selections are given in the following pages:—
Hôtel de Breteuil, Rue de Rivoli,5th of 11th mo.I arrived at this charming residence on fourth day last, and the trees had nearly lost their leaves, and the gardens their flowers. I gazed on the prospect around me with still increasing delight. On the side near me was the palace of the Tuilleries, with the tricolor flag hanging on its centre dome; and, to the right, the fine dome of the Invalides. But oh! the people—the busy people—of all ranks probably, and of various costumes, passing to and fro, and soldiers, omnibuses, cabriolets, citadines, carts, horsemen, hurrying along the Rue de Rivoli, while foot passengers were crossing the gardens, or loungers were sitting on its benches, to enjoy the beauty of this May-November! But what was become of the Revolution? Paris seemed as bright and peaceful as I had left it thirteen months ago! And the towns too, through which we had passed on our road, bore no marks of change. We did not see the tricolor till we reached a village on the morning of our second day’s journey, (it was thefêteof Le Toussaint,) when I remarked, not only the tricolor flag, on a pump in the middle of the smallplaceopposite the inn, but the colours, exhibited with no little grace and coquetry, on a very handsome youth, probably thebeauorcoqof the village.As to the country, it appeared to me even less populous than ever; and I almost wondered where there could ever be found hands enough to cultivate the wide spreading hills and vales. “Well, but to be sure we shall see some obvious changes in Paris,” my travelling companion and I observed to each other; but alas! we did not reach Paris till two in the morning, when even its lowest and fiercest inhabitants might be expected to be asleep; and, without any let or hindrance, we arrived at the Messagerie; and, at three in the morning, a commissioner conducted us on foot to the Hôtel de Lisle, Palais Royal, the only one open. “And we are going to the Palais Royal! the very focus of everything!” observed my companion (who was a Royalist) bidding me at the same time remark the tricolor floating behind us on the Palais d’Orléans. I did so, but my attention was soon directed to another quarter; I saw two men advancing, as we crossed the Place Royale, who were singing the new national song, by Casimir de la Vigne, called the “Parisienne;” and just as they drew near, they sung the most interesting line in the whole song to me.“Pour briser leurs masses profondes,Qui conduit nos drapeaux sanglants?C’est la liberté des deux mondes,C’est Lafayette, en cheveux blancs!”What a thrill of emotions those words excited in me! how many recollections of former days and former friends those few words recalled! recollections of those dear ones, who had first taught me to love the name, and admire the character, of Lafayette; and who would have enjoyed, like me, the brightness of that setting sun, which they had hailed at its dawning! And how long was the course of time which those little words marked out! “Lafayette en cheveux blancs!” And what a number of years did I, unconsciously to my companion, retrace in a moment! But why, as I thought on the man of two worlds, and recollected what and where he now was; why was my pleasure overclouded with sadness? because, though still in the splendour of his fame, that of his days was past; and though still Lafayette, it was Lafayette “en cheveux blancs.” I cannot describe the feelings with which I have always read those words; but now that I heard them, I felt them still more; and then, by a very natural process, I began to imagine the feelings of the General himself, when he hears them: but he, I dare say, hears them with less emotion than I do—his well poised mind, satisfied with being at what he believes to be the post of duty, looks back on the past with thankfulness, and to the future with hope.But how I have wandered from the Hôtel de Breteuil! As I stood on the balcony, gazing with admiring eyes, my obliging landlady told me that many ladies, English and others, having first closed thecroisées, had stood there to see the battle of the three days. As the balcony isau troisième, they could do so no doubt without danger, except from themitraille; still I did not envy them their post, and earnestly desired, in my time, no such awful scenes might pass beneath the windows.“Well,” (said I to myself when I was left alone,) “here I am, actually at Paris! and alone at Paris: few of my friends in England knew I was coming, and none in France know that I am here! A new and strange position; but theincognitois not without its charms!” And, though excessively fatigued, for two nights, I felt an extraordinary elevation of spirit, as well as a sense of deep thankfulness; not only because I was in the most interesting of all cities, at the present moment, but because I was capable of feeling enjoyment in being alone, and alone in a strange land,alone in Paris! But I was conscious that my trust was placed in Him, whose protecting eye is everywhere; and though my thoughts might recur affectionately and frequently to the dear relatives and friends whom I had quitted, the uneasiness of mind, and indisposition of body, which had attended my irresolution whether to stay at home, or depart, had entirely vanished; and the future seemed arrayed in smiles.Having dined early, I sallied forth to the Boulevards, just as the sun was beginning to sink behind the trees of the gardens; and, though I was walking towards the east, when I reached that pleasant spot, the western rays were so beautifully reflected on the upper part of the white buildings before me, that, for a little while, I was unconscious of the loss of the trees on the Boulevards; but, suddenly recollecting myself, I stopped to look round in painful astonishment, till I remembered it was forla patrie, and to save lives;—then I could regret no longer! I was on my way to M.’s to subscribe to his library; and on my expressing to his wife my regret at missing the fine trees, I found that her patriotism was strong enough to console her; and I believe that I shall not pay my court well, to the residents on the Boulevards, by expressing any regret for the sacrifice which was required for the cause of liberty and the country. I next bent my steps to the gardens of the Tuilleries, in hopes to overtake the setting sun. The seats were many of them still occupied by well dressed men and women, three of whom I observed reading by the red and sinking light. I do not remember to have seen such a sight in my own country; and I should have stopped and lingered to observe the group, had I not been impatient to renew my acquaintance with the statues on the Pont Louis quinze; but I arrived too late to distinguish their countenances, though the grand outlines were clearly to be seen. I was disappointed also to observe, that thirteen months of exposure to the air, had deprived them of that striking whiteness, in complete contrast to the dingy hue of the surrounding stone, which had formerly given them in my eyes (at the hour of twilight) the appearance of unearthly beings—the ghosts of the departed great, standing there to watch over the destinies of that country for which they have laboured both in arts and arms!I looked on theCondéof my friend David with added pleasure, from having recently heard its merits so eloquently described by Lady Morgan; and lingered long on the bridge, watching the last beams of the setting sun, till I saw I was alone, and remembered I had some way to walk. I found the gardens nearly deserted on my return, except by a few soldiers on duty; and therefore hastened to my new home, refreshed by my walk, pleased with my new position, and saying to myself, “How difficult should I find it, to make some of my friends in England believe that I could be walking alone in Paris, at twilight, in perfect peace and security.”The next day, afterfifteenhours’ repose, I awoke refreshed, (as I well might,) and resolved that I would still keep my arrival in Paris unknown to my friends.I proceeded to walk out, accompanied by Manuel,a valet-de-place de l’hôtel. My first visit was to the Louvre, not to see the pictures, but to inquire concerningle Suisse, or porter, who was so civil and attentive to me last year. I had thought it only too likely that he had been amongst the killed, when the Louvre was assailed; and could hardly speak, from strong emotion, when I saw him alive and well, and looking as if nothing had happened! I expressed, as calmly as I was able, my fears for his life, and my joy to see him as I had left him. He seemed gratified; and thanked me in a manner very creditable to himself.I have always observed a civility in the lower orders in France, as remote from coarseness as from servility, which did not, I suspect, distinguish them previous to the revolution of 1789. “If our revolution has done nothing else for us,” said General Lafayette last year, “it has, at least, done this; it has taught men to look their fellow-men in the face, and feel their own dignity.”I next went to see the ravages which civil war had made, and which are now nearly repaired; but my valet pointed out the mark, yet remaining, of a bullet, fired by one of the Swiss, from a window of the Louvre, which hit one of the columns of the Palais des quatre Colonnes, across the water. We were, at that moment, standing on thenameless,unhonouredgraves of the Swiss who had fallen in the action, and by the ornamented and hallowed graves of their victims. “Take your hats off,” was the cry, as the latter were approached; and there stood men of all ages, with their heads uncovered, (besides rows of women and children,) all gazing, with mournful interest, on the place where lay the ashes of thosemorts pour la patrie, on the memorable three days!My next course was to the Palais Royal, which seemed as when I last saw it; its beautiful fountain was still playing, its shops looked as tempting as ever; but the Tricolor floated on the Palace of the King, and the National Guard (a large detachment) were on duty there. I must confess to looking on these men with great complacency; they had so recently shewn their forbearance in the midst of great provocation; they really reasoned, and joked, and wheedled the agitators in the late tumult, into quiet and dispersion. The citizen was not forgotten in the soldier;—theirs was the victory of good sense and self government, over the excitement of ignorance and passion; and be their country’s confidence and gratitude their well-earned reward!* * * This morning I have received a note of welcome, like herself, from Sophie de V. She will not invite me to the Saturdaysoirée, at the Jardin des Plantes, (Baron Cuvier’s) which takes place every week, because she says, “vous êtes invitée née”—a compliment prettily expressed.(7th day, 6th of November.) A bright day; the statues in the Tuilleries gardens lookingsowhite, and what remains of the foliage on the trees so richly tinted! The right side of the prospect (that is, the Invalides and other lofty buildings) is clothed in sunshine; the palace is in shade—but even while I write the scene is changing, and all behind the palace is becoming a sheet of silver! May this be emblematical of the future prospects of its present owner, and of all to whom he belongs! * * * *The light has now passed entirely away from thecôté droitto thecôté gauche; a little breeze is getting up, and the gorgeous autumnal leaves are waving in it to and fro.Then * * * * * but I will not indulge my fancy—a truce to metaphors and types; my object is matter of fact. I have just read the speeches of our Parliament, in theJournal des Débats. How entirely I agree with Lord Grey; but the barepossibilityof war with France is insupportable! I cannot hate and condemn war more than I do, else this fear would make me. Brougham does not mention such a possibility, and I think his opinion nearly as good as Lord Grey’s.I have engaged lodgings for a month, at the Hôtel de Douvres; my apartment looks on the Rue de la Paix, and I can also see the Boulevard des Capucins! an excellent situation, but the rooms so small!—Well! a month is soon gone, and at the end of it I may be gone too; who knows?I dine at five, and at eight shall go to M. Cuvier’s * * * Though I went early, the room was full enough to make me feel a wish I had come earlier; most of the faces were unknown to me. By half-past nine the room was almost full, of, I believe, persons all distinguished in some way or another. “Who is that gentleman?” said I, “Oh! nothing particularly distinguished, he is onlyun homme d’esprit,” “onlyun homme d’esprit!” replied another, what a compliment! when wit is so scarce. * * * *Soon, Baron de Humboldt was announced, and I was looking eagerly round for my old and valued acquaintance, when M. Cuvier led him to me. I was very glad to see him, but sorry to hear he was going to England. We had not met for sixteen years. “You find him then grown grey,” (said la Baronne.) True, but he was embellished, for he was grown fat, and really is now good looking.Another pleasure awaited me, in the entrance of my friend David, who did not know of my arrival; he was indeed surprised, but hurt, (and perhaps with justice,) that I had not let him know I was come or coming.David speaks highly of the king, and says, while mounting guard the other morning, he saw him in his night-cap, walking on the terrace. Poor man! I dare say he cannot sleep much!“Happy low, lie down,Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”David has sent me the bust of Lafayette,[31]and some other things to England! Well! they will be there, I trust, to cheer me when I return, (if in mercy permitted to do so,) and have bidden to Paris a probably eternal adieu!“By all means go to Lafayette’s on Tuesday,” (said two or three gentlemen to me.)Nous verrons,—he does not receive at his own house now, but in his staff house, in the Montblanc.* * * I certainly much enjoyed la Baronne’s party, and her tea, and her cakes. I came home a little past midnight.(1st day, 7th.) A night of wind! a day of rain! went to the Champs Elisées. Our sitting was still, and, I trust, favoured.I expect to be alone all to-day—what a great privilege it is, not to feel solitude a trial, but a pleasure! The first thing I heard on waking this morning wasla Parisienne, sung, I concluded, by passing soldiers. I checked the internal reproof rising to my lips, on remembering that the military band plays, as it returns with the soldiers from church, in my own city, and in all others; and most probably these soldiers were returning from early mass.(2nd day, 8th.) I cannot but wonder at my own stillness, and the stillness of all that surrounds me in this busy city; the depository at this moment probably of all the springs and agencies, which, set in motion, must act upon, and decide, the destinies of Europe! At this moment (10 o’clock) even the Tuilleries are deserted; the fountain played yesterday, but it is quiet to-day; it only works on a Sabbath day! The morning is dark, and the view therefore is not as lovely as usual; I can sit by my fireside, instead of going to my balcony; so much the better, as I must leave it to-morrow, for a less lovely prospect. * * * * A sense of my inability to do the subject justice has alone kept me from committing to paper what passes in my mind, and is always uppermost in it, on the subject of politics, but I must relieve my mind by doing so very soon. TheJournal des Débatshas, to-day, some admirable remarks (in my opinion) on the liberty of the press. * * *How impossible it is to know what is usually going on in any country without being in it, and even then how difficult! I see and feel, even from my short and limited experience, more of the real state of Paris at this moment, than I could have taken in, for months, at home!I thought while I was observing, the other day, the mark of the bullet on the column of the Palais des quatres Nations, and saw the eagerness with which myvalet-de-placepointed it out to me, how wise it would be to efface that striking provocation to a continuance of popular resentment; and rejoiced to see the other traces of civil war disappearing so fast.I spoke and felt like a lover of peace, and a hater of all discord and all war; and I was painfully convinced how right I was in my ideas on the subject, by hearing a reputed Jacobin say, at M. Cuvier’s, “how sorry I am to see the traces of our three days so quickly disappearing! I wish them to remain for ever, to keep up thespirit of just indignation in the people!” I heard, sighed, and shuddered, and then, as well as I could, combated the frightful and fearful observation. The speaker was one of the National Guard, and in that Guard how many may there not be whose desire is for war, rather than peace; and republicanism, before royalty, even though the king be a citizen king! And there are pictures of Napoleon, at all ages of his life, exhibiting at the Luxembourg, with other pictures, for the benefit of the widows of the wounded: and Napoleon brought on the stage at the minor theatres, and applauded, and extolled, and mourned and wept over, on his bed of death and in his grave! If I were a royalist, and an intriguist, I would bring forward and support this Napoleon drama, which will, no doubt, end by bringing the young Napoleon before the minds of the people.(3rd day, 9th.) I and my baggage arrived, this morning, at my new apartments, at the Hôtel de Douvres. * * * I have bought an orange tree full of flowers! how it embellishes and perfumes my little room! it is quite an acquisition! At eight I shall go to the General’s, to catch him before he isentouré, if possible; but alas! he receives at the État Major of theGarde Nationalenow; I shall feel as if going to court! * * * * * * Dressed all in my best, and going off! the house is only across the Boulevards—my valet seems rather pleased, I think, to be going to Lafayette’s; he is a most pleasing servant, and it is as cheap, and certainly better, for me to have a valet than a maid-servant. * * * Well;—thefiàcreis here—not a word more till to-morrow.(4th day, 10th.) * * Though, at one period of my life, I was accustomed to follow my name into rooms filled with lords and ladies, and perhaps princes,—the confidence which custom gives was so annihilated in me by long disuse, that, as I ascended the wide staircase of the splendid hotel of the État Major, I desired that my name might not be announced; and I was the more satisfied that it was not, when I found the general was not arrived, and there were many gentlemen whom I did not know, assembled in both the apartments, or (as the French call them)les salons de reception. I know not when I have felt more ill at ease; and, feeling myself in a sort of Court, and waiting the appearance, if not of a king, of a much greater man, and one whose influence was nearly supreme over France—I sighed, as I looked at my simple Quaker dress, and considered whether I had any business there; and shrunk into a corner,—for the first time in my life wishing the apartment I was in less brilliantly lighted. The ladies of the family, as the General dined out, did not think it necessary to come as early as usual, and thus was my painful solitude, in the midst of a crowd, unusually lengthened; at length a small door, at one corner of the room opened, and the Commander-in-chief appeared; a sort of circle instantly formed around him, he shook each individual of it by the hand, and then made his way up to where I stood, and welcomed me most kindly to Paris; but he could not tarry with me, and was soon again surrounded. A young man, (name unknown) feeling for the awkwardness of my position, then entered into conversation with me, and I was contentedly chatting with him, when Madame G. Lafayette, and the rest of the General’s amiable and lovely family came in, and I went forward to meet them. Soon after, the room was filled; the officers of the National Guard, Americans of both sexes, deputies, ladies, men of letters, artists—the distinguished and the non-distinguished, thronged both the saloons; while the General passed from room to room, with a smile and a profferred hand to each in turn. I felt the scene a royal one, as it were, but there was one marked difference to those at which I have been present, when I met the late king, (then Prince of Wales and Regent,) in the London assemblies. The prince never went to the company,theycame to him; Lafayette, on the contrary, assumed no state, but was as simple-mannered as usual, and apparently as unconscious of his increased consequence, as he was in his assemblies of last year; and I believe that there was scarcely an eye present, that did not follow him with love, nor a heart that did not rejoice in the seeming perfection of his strength, and the enduring freshness of that cheek, which a life of temperance and usefulness has preserved in lasting freshness.I know not when I have seen so much beauty in the youth of both sexes, as I saw last night. The young men, particularly those in the National Guard, looked so very animated, so very happy! and their uniform was so simple, and so becoming therefore; but, plain as it generally was, that of the Commander-in-chief was plainer still. The evening was only too short and pleasing. I felt elated, but at the same time overwhelmed, with the kind attentions and flatteries, which, as a woman of letters, I received; and again queried whether I ought to be there; but I knew I had a duty to fulfil, a sort of commission to execute, and I resolved not to leave the house till I had done it.Accordingly, when it was past midnight, I watched the General to a seat, and begged an audience of him, putting into his hand a little paper, containing an extract from a letter, (from a dear friend of mine, a member of our society,) wishing Lafayette to request the abolition of slavery and the slave-trade, and also an expression in writing, of my valued friend Fowell Buxton’s wishes, that he would lend all his powerful aid to this great cause.He took my paper and assured me he had already talked with the ministerde la marineon the subject; and that they were going to declare the tradepiracy, as we had done in England, and as the Americans had done also. Alas! how little is this! and we know how the law is evaded! I took my leave, saying, that while liberty was in so many places the order of the day, and would probably be over all Europe, I did hope that the cause of Africa would at length triumph also—but when?I feel, and own, that France has yet much work to do at home, and interests nearer and dearer to attend to; but I, for one, shall be sadly disappointed if she does not ultimately take up this long-neglected cause, and set a great example to other nations.Amongst the crowd I saw, for a moment, Benjamin Constant; and saw, with pain, that his truly valuable health has suffered since last year, but his noble mind seems as vigorous as ever! how just are his views, and how eloquent his expressions of them!Among those also present were the Baron de Humboldt, General Carbonnel, David the sculptor, Le Brun the dramatic poet, &c., &c.Having executed my commission to the General, and also given him the purse, I had felt such pleasure in netting for him, I withdrew; his son attending me to my coach.(4th day, 10th.) Soon after I had breakfasted, General de B. called to ask me to go with him to the Luxembourg, to see the exhibition of pictures there, for the benefit of the wounded. I gladly complied, and we set off in afiàcrethe driver of which told us theex-ministerswere expected: we did not believe it, but it gave me a queer sensation.How fine the day was! how bright the sun! how blue the sky! It was curious to see a large square place in the gardens, just before the front of the palace, absolutely filled with men, women, and children, of all ranks, sitting on benches and chairs, and on the ground, crowded together, enjoying the winter sunshine!The exhibition was a curious one also. The walls of the long vaulted gallery were covered chiefly with pictures of Napoleon; Napoleon in situations the most interesting and recommendatory to the nation; conquering at Aboukir, Marengo, and Austerlitz; saving the life of a whole family at Cairo; visiting the sick in the hospital of Jaffa; in short, there he was, usually as large as life, surviving in his military glory, on the animated canvass, and recalling to the Parisians the splendour of their arms under their victorious leader; but the most interesting picture was Napoleon on his death-bed, or rather, Napoleon dead; the different expressions of the grief of the bystanders was well expressed. The likeness of Antommarchi (the only one I could judge of) was striking, and I daresay so were the others: above it hung the picture of his tomb, from the hand of Gérard.Coming home I heard, with pain, the news from England! Our monarch and his queen, so justly popular, to be kept from going to the city feast, to receive the respect due to them, by the unpopularity of a minister! Oh! shame! * * * Again alone, but busy, and happy therefore.(6th day, 12th.) My birthday! I dare not be guilty of the egotism of committing to paper my feelings, when I recollect that on this day, so many years ago, I saw the light; and that the recollection comes over me that I heard my dearest father say, on his death-bed, it was the happiest day he had ever known! Toonebeing, then, it had been an important day; butheis gone, and what is it now become? of consequence to no one; and I shall spend it alone in a foreign land! unwelcomed and unheeded, save by myself. But these feelings have been succeeded by wiser and more beneficial ones! Oh! that the resolutions I have this day formed, may make my next birthday, if I am permitted to see one, a day of less condemnatory feelings! * * * Went out to the Jardin des Plantes, and found only la Baronne at home. She made an observation, the result of experience. Speaking of the new animals which had lately been sent, as a present, to the menagerie, and mentioning the excessive tameness of one of the tigers, she said that it would allow her brother-in-law to play with it, and even would court his caresses. “I should, notwithstanding, be much afraid of acoup de patte,” said I. “Not with as much reason,” she replied, “as if you were caressing a ruminating animal; they are much more dangerous and difficult to tame; besides, when a wild animal grows tired of you, he lets you know it, by a certain restlessness and little cry that he makes, therefore you are on your guard; but with the others there is no preparation, and one of the stag species did a very serious injury the other day.”(7th day, 13th.) At eight I went to the Jardin des Plantes, in my muff and tippet, and most winterly gown. Found Sophie in muslin, and wondering at my Siberian appearance. “Come,” said she, speaking in my ear, “I must name to you all the celebrated persons present.” De Humboldt I knew, but I should vainly tax my memory to name the rest; one of them, a handsome delicate-looking young man, with brown and curling hair, was, I found, Mignet, author of the “History of the French Revolution,” in 2 vols., which I have bought, and which made the delight of my last winter’s solitude. Another of the circle was Salmady, one of the Chamber of Deputies, and whose conversation was so eloquent and animated, that Baron Cuvier said, with his meaning and intelligent smile,voilà la jeune France.”(1st day, 14th.) A wet Sabbath day, but I contrived to walk to the Champs Elysées; to bednotsatisfied with myself, but in peace with all the world, I trust.(6th day, 19th.) Quatrefuges had procured tickets for the Chamber of Deputies, and as the business between Ch. de Lameth and the Procureur du Roi was to come on this day, I was very glad to go, and he was to call me.When ready expecting him, I heard a ring at the door, and concluded it was he, but was most agreeably surprised to see, on entering thesalon, David andCooper, he whom I so much wished to see! I was very glad, but sorry I was going out directly. C. had only time to promise me that he would come and see me whenever I liked, and would introduce me to his wife. * * * Went to the Chamber, too late for choice places, but heard and saw well. Much pleased with the change in the new Chamber, in the situation of the Tribune des Dames; it is now near the Tribune. The debates were very interesting; the first was on the liberty of the press. Count de T. charmed me, both by his delivery and sentiments. The next debate, relative to the Procureur du Roi, was opened by a paper, read by Benjamin Constant, with whose opinions I have usually much unity; the question seemed to me to lie in a small compass, but it occasioned long discussion. The result was that Ch. de L. wasrightin not obeying the summons of the Procureur du Roi, and the latter, not meaning to attack the privileges of the Chamber, wasnot wrongin summoning him!!! We got away at a little past five.(7th day.) Prepared for my company; the room looked neat and comfortable. Dr. Bowring and his wife came first, followed by other friends. In the evening to B. Cuvier’s.(1st day, 20th.) A very comforting Meeting; called on the Bowrings again; saw where a bullet on the 29th of July had broken a pane in the window, just after he had shut it! Description of the dying and wounded beneath them, most affecting! At six some friends came, with whom I had a sitting after tea; tome, a favoured one. Read to them afterwards some lines of mine, serious enough to end the evening satisfactorily; to bed with a thankful heart for all the favours of the day.(2nd day, 22nd.) Had engaged to go to David’satelier, and to Antommarchi’s, to see the mask of Napoleon, when C. Moreau called early to say he had intended to take me to call on Madame de Genlis, who had promised, if it was fine, to dine with him, but as it rained, he feared she would not come; however, we could call on her. I told him I was engaged till four, but would then call at his house, to go or not as he pleased. Went to D.’s and was delighted with all I saw. Goethe, General Foy, and a brilliant, &c., &c. Went to A.’sau quatrième—very high and fatiguing; but remembered the reward of my toil—the cast, and the fine view from his windows, the cast was there, the view gone, walled up! poor man! I would not,couldnot stay there; the cast more than ever recalled to me Napoleon when First Consul! There was also there a fine print from the picture of Napoleon on his death-bed. Antommarchi so like! I then drove to Moreau’s; the weather was become fine, and we went to la Comtesse de Genlis’; she received me kindly, and I, throwing myself on my feelings, and remembering how much I owed her in the days of my childhood, became enthusiastically drawn towards her, very soon. She is a really pretty old woman of eighty-seven, very unaffected, with nothing of smartness, or affected state or style, about her. We passed through her bed-room (in which hung a crucifix) to hersalon, where she sat, much muffled up, over her wood fire; she had dined at three o’clock, not expecting to be able to go out; but as the weather was fine, she soon consented to accompany us, but she laughing said, she must now go without “sa belle robe.” We said inanygown she would be welcome; she then put on a very pretty white silk bonnet and a clean frill, and we set off. I set them down at C. Moreau’s, and came home to dress, but long before the dinner hour, I was at C. M.’s again, and took my post at the side of Madame de Genlis. A party of distinguished men came to dinner. The table was spread with a mixture of excellent English as well as French dishes; roast beef, boiled turkey, plum puddings, andmince pies! the latter the very best of the sort! Madame M. is an Englishwoman. As usual, St. Simon, and his preaching and doctrines were discussed, and at my end of the table, laughed at. Madame de G. did not talk much at dinner, but by her attention to what passed, and an occasional remark, it was evident nothing was lost upon her. After C. Moreau had given her health, with a most appropriate and flattering speech, wishing her to live many, many years, Julien, l’Encyclopèdiste, gave the health of the King.I thought Madame de G. conducted herself on this occasion with much simple dignity; yet it was a proud moment for her. She murmured something (and looked at me) about wishing the health of Madame Opie to be drunk; but no one heard her but myself, and I was really glad. When we rose from table, most of the gentlemen accompanied us. The room now filled with French, English, and Americans; many were presented to the venerable Countess, next to whom I sat, and then to me; she seemed to enjoy a scene, to which for some time she had been a stranger. I found, while I was conversing on some interesting subjects, she had been observing me. Afterwards she said, “Je vous aime!” she then added with an archness of countenance and vivacity of manner, the remnant of her best days, “je vous sême,” (imitating the bad pronunciation of some foreigner.) At half-past ten I saw C. Moreau lead Madame de G. out, and I followed them, and paid her every attention in my power, for which she was grateful; when I had wrapt her up, and put on her bonnet for her, my servant got a coach, and C. M., another gentleman, and myself, conducted her home.
Hôtel de Breteuil, Rue de Rivoli,
5th of 11th mo.
I arrived at this charming residence on fourth day last, and the trees had nearly lost their leaves, and the gardens their flowers. I gazed on the prospect around me with still increasing delight. On the side near me was the palace of the Tuilleries, with the tricolor flag hanging on its centre dome; and, to the right, the fine dome of the Invalides. But oh! the people—the busy people—of all ranks probably, and of various costumes, passing to and fro, and soldiers, omnibuses, cabriolets, citadines, carts, horsemen, hurrying along the Rue de Rivoli, while foot passengers were crossing the gardens, or loungers were sitting on its benches, to enjoy the beauty of this May-November! But what was become of the Revolution? Paris seemed as bright and peaceful as I had left it thirteen months ago! And the towns too, through which we had passed on our road, bore no marks of change. We did not see the tricolor till we reached a village on the morning of our second day’s journey, (it was thefêteof Le Toussaint,) when I remarked, not only the tricolor flag, on a pump in the middle of the smallplaceopposite the inn, but the colours, exhibited with no little grace and coquetry, on a very handsome youth, probably thebeauorcoqof the village.
As to the country, it appeared to me even less populous than ever; and I almost wondered where there could ever be found hands enough to cultivate the wide spreading hills and vales. “Well, but to be sure we shall see some obvious changes in Paris,” my travelling companion and I observed to each other; but alas! we did not reach Paris till two in the morning, when even its lowest and fiercest inhabitants might be expected to be asleep; and, without any let or hindrance, we arrived at the Messagerie; and, at three in the morning, a commissioner conducted us on foot to the Hôtel de Lisle, Palais Royal, the only one open. “And we are going to the Palais Royal! the very focus of everything!” observed my companion (who was a Royalist) bidding me at the same time remark the tricolor floating behind us on the Palais d’Orléans. I did so, but my attention was soon directed to another quarter; I saw two men advancing, as we crossed the Place Royale, who were singing the new national song, by Casimir de la Vigne, called the “Parisienne;” and just as they drew near, they sung the most interesting line in the whole song to me.
“Pour briser leurs masses profondes,Qui conduit nos drapeaux sanglants?C’est la liberté des deux mondes,C’est Lafayette, en cheveux blancs!”
“Pour briser leurs masses profondes,Qui conduit nos drapeaux sanglants?C’est la liberté des deux mondes,C’est Lafayette, en cheveux blancs!”
“Pour briser leurs masses profondes,Qui conduit nos drapeaux sanglants?C’est la liberté des deux mondes,C’est Lafayette, en cheveux blancs!”
“Pour briser leurs masses profondes,
Qui conduit nos drapeaux sanglants?
C’est la liberté des deux mondes,
C’est Lafayette, en cheveux blancs!”
What a thrill of emotions those words excited in me! how many recollections of former days and former friends those few words recalled! recollections of those dear ones, who had first taught me to love the name, and admire the character, of Lafayette; and who would have enjoyed, like me, the brightness of that setting sun, which they had hailed at its dawning! And how long was the course of time which those little words marked out! “Lafayette en cheveux blancs!” And what a number of years did I, unconsciously to my companion, retrace in a moment! But why, as I thought on the man of two worlds, and recollected what and where he now was; why was my pleasure overclouded with sadness? because, though still in the splendour of his fame, that of his days was past; and though still Lafayette, it was Lafayette “en cheveux blancs.” I cannot describe the feelings with which I have always read those words; but now that I heard them, I felt them still more; and then, by a very natural process, I began to imagine the feelings of the General himself, when he hears them: but he, I dare say, hears them with less emotion than I do—his well poised mind, satisfied with being at what he believes to be the post of duty, looks back on the past with thankfulness, and to the future with hope.
But how I have wandered from the Hôtel de Breteuil! As I stood on the balcony, gazing with admiring eyes, my obliging landlady told me that many ladies, English and others, having first closed thecroisées, had stood there to see the battle of the three days. As the balcony isau troisième, they could do so no doubt without danger, except from themitraille; still I did not envy them their post, and earnestly desired, in my time, no such awful scenes might pass beneath the windows.
“Well,” (said I to myself when I was left alone,) “here I am, actually at Paris! and alone at Paris: few of my friends in England knew I was coming, and none in France know that I am here! A new and strange position; but theincognitois not without its charms!” And, though excessively fatigued, for two nights, I felt an extraordinary elevation of spirit, as well as a sense of deep thankfulness; not only because I was in the most interesting of all cities, at the present moment, but because I was capable of feeling enjoyment in being alone, and alone in a strange land,alone in Paris! But I was conscious that my trust was placed in Him, whose protecting eye is everywhere; and though my thoughts might recur affectionately and frequently to the dear relatives and friends whom I had quitted, the uneasiness of mind, and indisposition of body, which had attended my irresolution whether to stay at home, or depart, had entirely vanished; and the future seemed arrayed in smiles.
Having dined early, I sallied forth to the Boulevards, just as the sun was beginning to sink behind the trees of the gardens; and, though I was walking towards the east, when I reached that pleasant spot, the western rays were so beautifully reflected on the upper part of the white buildings before me, that, for a little while, I was unconscious of the loss of the trees on the Boulevards; but, suddenly recollecting myself, I stopped to look round in painful astonishment, till I remembered it was forla patrie, and to save lives;—then I could regret no longer! I was on my way to M.’s to subscribe to his library; and on my expressing to his wife my regret at missing the fine trees, I found that her patriotism was strong enough to console her; and I believe that I shall not pay my court well, to the residents on the Boulevards, by expressing any regret for the sacrifice which was required for the cause of liberty and the country. I next bent my steps to the gardens of the Tuilleries, in hopes to overtake the setting sun. The seats were many of them still occupied by well dressed men and women, three of whom I observed reading by the red and sinking light. I do not remember to have seen such a sight in my own country; and I should have stopped and lingered to observe the group, had I not been impatient to renew my acquaintance with the statues on the Pont Louis quinze; but I arrived too late to distinguish their countenances, though the grand outlines were clearly to be seen. I was disappointed also to observe, that thirteen months of exposure to the air, had deprived them of that striking whiteness, in complete contrast to the dingy hue of the surrounding stone, which had formerly given them in my eyes (at the hour of twilight) the appearance of unearthly beings—the ghosts of the departed great, standing there to watch over the destinies of that country for which they have laboured both in arts and arms!
I looked on theCondéof my friend David with added pleasure, from having recently heard its merits so eloquently described by Lady Morgan; and lingered long on the bridge, watching the last beams of the setting sun, till I saw I was alone, and remembered I had some way to walk. I found the gardens nearly deserted on my return, except by a few soldiers on duty; and therefore hastened to my new home, refreshed by my walk, pleased with my new position, and saying to myself, “How difficult should I find it, to make some of my friends in England believe that I could be walking alone in Paris, at twilight, in perfect peace and security.”
The next day, afterfifteenhours’ repose, I awoke refreshed, (as I well might,) and resolved that I would still keep my arrival in Paris unknown to my friends.
I proceeded to walk out, accompanied by Manuel,a valet-de-place de l’hôtel. My first visit was to the Louvre, not to see the pictures, but to inquire concerningle Suisse, or porter, who was so civil and attentive to me last year. I had thought it only too likely that he had been amongst the killed, when the Louvre was assailed; and could hardly speak, from strong emotion, when I saw him alive and well, and looking as if nothing had happened! I expressed, as calmly as I was able, my fears for his life, and my joy to see him as I had left him. He seemed gratified; and thanked me in a manner very creditable to himself.
I have always observed a civility in the lower orders in France, as remote from coarseness as from servility, which did not, I suspect, distinguish them previous to the revolution of 1789. “If our revolution has done nothing else for us,” said General Lafayette last year, “it has, at least, done this; it has taught men to look their fellow-men in the face, and feel their own dignity.”
I next went to see the ravages which civil war had made, and which are now nearly repaired; but my valet pointed out the mark, yet remaining, of a bullet, fired by one of the Swiss, from a window of the Louvre, which hit one of the columns of the Palais des quatre Colonnes, across the water. We were, at that moment, standing on thenameless,unhonouredgraves of the Swiss who had fallen in the action, and by the ornamented and hallowed graves of their victims. “Take your hats off,” was the cry, as the latter were approached; and there stood men of all ages, with their heads uncovered, (besides rows of women and children,) all gazing, with mournful interest, on the place where lay the ashes of thosemorts pour la patrie, on the memorable three days!
My next course was to the Palais Royal, which seemed as when I last saw it; its beautiful fountain was still playing, its shops looked as tempting as ever; but the Tricolor floated on the Palace of the King, and the National Guard (a large detachment) were on duty there. I must confess to looking on these men with great complacency; they had so recently shewn their forbearance in the midst of great provocation; they really reasoned, and joked, and wheedled the agitators in the late tumult, into quiet and dispersion. The citizen was not forgotten in the soldier;—theirs was the victory of good sense and self government, over the excitement of ignorance and passion; and be their country’s confidence and gratitude their well-earned reward!
* * * This morning I have received a note of welcome, like herself, from Sophie de V. She will not invite me to the Saturdaysoirée, at the Jardin des Plantes, (Baron Cuvier’s) which takes place every week, because she says, “vous êtes invitée née”—a compliment prettily expressed.
(7th day, 6th of November.) A bright day; the statues in the Tuilleries gardens lookingsowhite, and what remains of the foliage on the trees so richly tinted! The right side of the prospect (that is, the Invalides and other lofty buildings) is clothed in sunshine; the palace is in shade—but even while I write the scene is changing, and all behind the palace is becoming a sheet of silver! May this be emblematical of the future prospects of its present owner, and of all to whom he belongs! * * * *
The light has now passed entirely away from thecôté droitto thecôté gauche; a little breeze is getting up, and the gorgeous autumnal leaves are waving in it to and fro.
Then * * * * * but I will not indulge my fancy—a truce to metaphors and types; my object is matter of fact. I have just read the speeches of our Parliament, in theJournal des Débats. How entirely I agree with Lord Grey; but the barepossibilityof war with France is insupportable! I cannot hate and condemn war more than I do, else this fear would make me. Brougham does not mention such a possibility, and I think his opinion nearly as good as Lord Grey’s.
I have engaged lodgings for a month, at the Hôtel de Douvres; my apartment looks on the Rue de la Paix, and I can also see the Boulevard des Capucins! an excellent situation, but the rooms so small!—Well! a month is soon gone, and at the end of it I may be gone too; who knows?
I dine at five, and at eight shall go to M. Cuvier’s * * * Though I went early, the room was full enough to make me feel a wish I had come earlier; most of the faces were unknown to me. By half-past nine the room was almost full, of, I believe, persons all distinguished in some way or another. “Who is that gentleman?” said I, “Oh! nothing particularly distinguished, he is onlyun homme d’esprit,” “onlyun homme d’esprit!” replied another, what a compliment! when wit is so scarce. * * * *
Soon, Baron de Humboldt was announced, and I was looking eagerly round for my old and valued acquaintance, when M. Cuvier led him to me. I was very glad to see him, but sorry to hear he was going to England. We had not met for sixteen years. “You find him then grown grey,” (said la Baronne.) True, but he was embellished, for he was grown fat, and really is now good looking.
Another pleasure awaited me, in the entrance of my friend David, who did not know of my arrival; he was indeed surprised, but hurt, (and perhaps with justice,) that I had not let him know I was come or coming.
David speaks highly of the king, and says, while mounting guard the other morning, he saw him in his night-cap, walking on the terrace. Poor man! I dare say he cannot sleep much!
“Happy low, lie down,Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”
“Happy low, lie down,Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”
“Happy low, lie down,Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”
“Happy low, lie down,
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”
David has sent me the bust of Lafayette,[31]and some other things to England! Well! they will be there, I trust, to cheer me when I return, (if in mercy permitted to do so,) and have bidden to Paris a probably eternal adieu!
“By all means go to Lafayette’s on Tuesday,” (said two or three gentlemen to me.)Nous verrons,—he does not receive at his own house now, but in his staff house, in the Montblanc.
* * * I certainly much enjoyed la Baronne’s party, and her tea, and her cakes. I came home a little past midnight.
(1st day, 7th.) A night of wind! a day of rain! went to the Champs Elisées. Our sitting was still, and, I trust, favoured.
I expect to be alone all to-day—what a great privilege it is, not to feel solitude a trial, but a pleasure! The first thing I heard on waking this morning wasla Parisienne, sung, I concluded, by passing soldiers. I checked the internal reproof rising to my lips, on remembering that the military band plays, as it returns with the soldiers from church, in my own city, and in all others; and most probably these soldiers were returning from early mass.
(2nd day, 8th.) I cannot but wonder at my own stillness, and the stillness of all that surrounds me in this busy city; the depository at this moment probably of all the springs and agencies, which, set in motion, must act upon, and decide, the destinies of Europe! At this moment (10 o’clock) even the Tuilleries are deserted; the fountain played yesterday, but it is quiet to-day; it only works on a Sabbath day! The morning is dark, and the view therefore is not as lovely as usual; I can sit by my fireside, instead of going to my balcony; so much the better, as I must leave it to-morrow, for a less lovely prospect. * * * * A sense of my inability to do the subject justice has alone kept me from committing to paper what passes in my mind, and is always uppermost in it, on the subject of politics, but I must relieve my mind by doing so very soon. TheJournal des Débatshas, to-day, some admirable remarks (in my opinion) on the liberty of the press. * * *
How impossible it is to know what is usually going on in any country without being in it, and even then how difficult! I see and feel, even from my short and limited experience, more of the real state of Paris at this moment, than I could have taken in, for months, at home!
I thought while I was observing, the other day, the mark of the bullet on the column of the Palais des quatres Nations, and saw the eagerness with which myvalet-de-placepointed it out to me, how wise it would be to efface that striking provocation to a continuance of popular resentment; and rejoiced to see the other traces of civil war disappearing so fast.
I spoke and felt like a lover of peace, and a hater of all discord and all war; and I was painfully convinced how right I was in my ideas on the subject, by hearing a reputed Jacobin say, at M. Cuvier’s, “how sorry I am to see the traces of our three days so quickly disappearing! I wish them to remain for ever, to keep up thespirit of just indignation in the people!” I heard, sighed, and shuddered, and then, as well as I could, combated the frightful and fearful observation. The speaker was one of the National Guard, and in that Guard how many may there not be whose desire is for war, rather than peace; and republicanism, before royalty, even though the king be a citizen king! And there are pictures of Napoleon, at all ages of his life, exhibiting at the Luxembourg, with other pictures, for the benefit of the widows of the wounded: and Napoleon brought on the stage at the minor theatres, and applauded, and extolled, and mourned and wept over, on his bed of death and in his grave! If I were a royalist, and an intriguist, I would bring forward and support this Napoleon drama, which will, no doubt, end by bringing the young Napoleon before the minds of the people.
(3rd day, 9th.) I and my baggage arrived, this morning, at my new apartments, at the Hôtel de Douvres. * * * I have bought an orange tree full of flowers! how it embellishes and perfumes my little room! it is quite an acquisition! At eight I shall go to the General’s, to catch him before he isentouré, if possible; but alas! he receives at the État Major of theGarde Nationalenow; I shall feel as if going to court! * * * * * * Dressed all in my best, and going off! the house is only across the Boulevards—my valet seems rather pleased, I think, to be going to Lafayette’s; he is a most pleasing servant, and it is as cheap, and certainly better, for me to have a valet than a maid-servant. * * * Well;—thefiàcreis here—not a word more till to-morrow.
(4th day, 10th.) * * Though, at one period of my life, I was accustomed to follow my name into rooms filled with lords and ladies, and perhaps princes,—the confidence which custom gives was so annihilated in me by long disuse, that, as I ascended the wide staircase of the splendid hotel of the État Major, I desired that my name might not be announced; and I was the more satisfied that it was not, when I found the general was not arrived, and there were many gentlemen whom I did not know, assembled in both the apartments, or (as the French call them)les salons de reception. I know not when I have felt more ill at ease; and, feeling myself in a sort of Court, and waiting the appearance, if not of a king, of a much greater man, and one whose influence was nearly supreme over France—I sighed, as I looked at my simple Quaker dress, and considered whether I had any business there; and shrunk into a corner,—for the first time in my life wishing the apartment I was in less brilliantly lighted. The ladies of the family, as the General dined out, did not think it necessary to come as early as usual, and thus was my painful solitude, in the midst of a crowd, unusually lengthened; at length a small door, at one corner of the room opened, and the Commander-in-chief appeared; a sort of circle instantly formed around him, he shook each individual of it by the hand, and then made his way up to where I stood, and welcomed me most kindly to Paris; but he could not tarry with me, and was soon again surrounded. A young man, (name unknown) feeling for the awkwardness of my position, then entered into conversation with me, and I was contentedly chatting with him, when Madame G. Lafayette, and the rest of the General’s amiable and lovely family came in, and I went forward to meet them. Soon after, the room was filled; the officers of the National Guard, Americans of both sexes, deputies, ladies, men of letters, artists—the distinguished and the non-distinguished, thronged both the saloons; while the General passed from room to room, with a smile and a profferred hand to each in turn. I felt the scene a royal one, as it were, but there was one marked difference to those at which I have been present, when I met the late king, (then Prince of Wales and Regent,) in the London assemblies. The prince never went to the company,theycame to him; Lafayette, on the contrary, assumed no state, but was as simple-mannered as usual, and apparently as unconscious of his increased consequence, as he was in his assemblies of last year; and I believe that there was scarcely an eye present, that did not follow him with love, nor a heart that did not rejoice in the seeming perfection of his strength, and the enduring freshness of that cheek, which a life of temperance and usefulness has preserved in lasting freshness.
I know not when I have seen so much beauty in the youth of both sexes, as I saw last night. The young men, particularly those in the National Guard, looked so very animated, so very happy! and their uniform was so simple, and so becoming therefore; but, plain as it generally was, that of the Commander-in-chief was plainer still. The evening was only too short and pleasing. I felt elated, but at the same time overwhelmed, with the kind attentions and flatteries, which, as a woman of letters, I received; and again queried whether I ought to be there; but I knew I had a duty to fulfil, a sort of commission to execute, and I resolved not to leave the house till I had done it.
Accordingly, when it was past midnight, I watched the General to a seat, and begged an audience of him, putting into his hand a little paper, containing an extract from a letter, (from a dear friend of mine, a member of our society,) wishing Lafayette to request the abolition of slavery and the slave-trade, and also an expression in writing, of my valued friend Fowell Buxton’s wishes, that he would lend all his powerful aid to this great cause.
He took my paper and assured me he had already talked with the ministerde la marineon the subject; and that they were going to declare the tradepiracy, as we had done in England, and as the Americans had done also. Alas! how little is this! and we know how the law is evaded! I took my leave, saying, that while liberty was in so many places the order of the day, and would probably be over all Europe, I did hope that the cause of Africa would at length triumph also—but when?
I feel, and own, that France has yet much work to do at home, and interests nearer and dearer to attend to; but I, for one, shall be sadly disappointed if she does not ultimately take up this long-neglected cause, and set a great example to other nations.
Amongst the crowd I saw, for a moment, Benjamin Constant; and saw, with pain, that his truly valuable health has suffered since last year, but his noble mind seems as vigorous as ever! how just are his views, and how eloquent his expressions of them!
Among those also present were the Baron de Humboldt, General Carbonnel, David the sculptor, Le Brun the dramatic poet, &c., &c.
Having executed my commission to the General, and also given him the purse, I had felt such pleasure in netting for him, I withdrew; his son attending me to my coach.
(4th day, 10th.) Soon after I had breakfasted, General de B. called to ask me to go with him to the Luxembourg, to see the exhibition of pictures there, for the benefit of the wounded. I gladly complied, and we set off in afiàcrethe driver of which told us theex-ministerswere expected: we did not believe it, but it gave me a queer sensation.
How fine the day was! how bright the sun! how blue the sky! It was curious to see a large square place in the gardens, just before the front of the palace, absolutely filled with men, women, and children, of all ranks, sitting on benches and chairs, and on the ground, crowded together, enjoying the winter sunshine!
The exhibition was a curious one also. The walls of the long vaulted gallery were covered chiefly with pictures of Napoleon; Napoleon in situations the most interesting and recommendatory to the nation; conquering at Aboukir, Marengo, and Austerlitz; saving the life of a whole family at Cairo; visiting the sick in the hospital of Jaffa; in short, there he was, usually as large as life, surviving in his military glory, on the animated canvass, and recalling to the Parisians the splendour of their arms under their victorious leader; but the most interesting picture was Napoleon on his death-bed, or rather, Napoleon dead; the different expressions of the grief of the bystanders was well expressed. The likeness of Antommarchi (the only one I could judge of) was striking, and I daresay so were the others: above it hung the picture of his tomb, from the hand of Gérard.
Coming home I heard, with pain, the news from England! Our monarch and his queen, so justly popular, to be kept from going to the city feast, to receive the respect due to them, by the unpopularity of a minister! Oh! shame! * * * Again alone, but busy, and happy therefore.
(6th day, 12th.) My birthday! I dare not be guilty of the egotism of committing to paper my feelings, when I recollect that on this day, so many years ago, I saw the light; and that the recollection comes over me that I heard my dearest father say, on his death-bed, it was the happiest day he had ever known! Toonebeing, then, it had been an important day; butheis gone, and what is it now become? of consequence to no one; and I shall spend it alone in a foreign land! unwelcomed and unheeded, save by myself. But these feelings have been succeeded by wiser and more beneficial ones! Oh! that the resolutions I have this day formed, may make my next birthday, if I am permitted to see one, a day of less condemnatory feelings! * * * Went out to the Jardin des Plantes, and found only la Baronne at home. She made an observation, the result of experience. Speaking of the new animals which had lately been sent, as a present, to the menagerie, and mentioning the excessive tameness of one of the tigers, she said that it would allow her brother-in-law to play with it, and even would court his caresses. “I should, notwithstanding, be much afraid of acoup de patte,” said I. “Not with as much reason,” she replied, “as if you were caressing a ruminating animal; they are much more dangerous and difficult to tame; besides, when a wild animal grows tired of you, he lets you know it, by a certain restlessness and little cry that he makes, therefore you are on your guard; but with the others there is no preparation, and one of the stag species did a very serious injury the other day.”
(7th day, 13th.) At eight I went to the Jardin des Plantes, in my muff and tippet, and most winterly gown. Found Sophie in muslin, and wondering at my Siberian appearance. “Come,” said she, speaking in my ear, “I must name to you all the celebrated persons present.” De Humboldt I knew, but I should vainly tax my memory to name the rest; one of them, a handsome delicate-looking young man, with brown and curling hair, was, I found, Mignet, author of the “History of the French Revolution,” in 2 vols., which I have bought, and which made the delight of my last winter’s solitude. Another of the circle was Salmady, one of the Chamber of Deputies, and whose conversation was so eloquent and animated, that Baron Cuvier said, with his meaning and intelligent smile,voilà la jeune France.”
(1st day, 14th.) A wet Sabbath day, but I contrived to walk to the Champs Elysées; to bednotsatisfied with myself, but in peace with all the world, I trust.
(6th day, 19th.) Quatrefuges had procured tickets for the Chamber of Deputies, and as the business between Ch. de Lameth and the Procureur du Roi was to come on this day, I was very glad to go, and he was to call me.
When ready expecting him, I heard a ring at the door, and concluded it was he, but was most agreeably surprised to see, on entering thesalon, David andCooper, he whom I so much wished to see! I was very glad, but sorry I was going out directly. C. had only time to promise me that he would come and see me whenever I liked, and would introduce me to his wife. * * * Went to the Chamber, too late for choice places, but heard and saw well. Much pleased with the change in the new Chamber, in the situation of the Tribune des Dames; it is now near the Tribune. The debates were very interesting; the first was on the liberty of the press. Count de T. charmed me, both by his delivery and sentiments. The next debate, relative to the Procureur du Roi, was opened by a paper, read by Benjamin Constant, with whose opinions I have usually much unity; the question seemed to me to lie in a small compass, but it occasioned long discussion. The result was that Ch. de L. wasrightin not obeying the summons of the Procureur du Roi, and the latter, not meaning to attack the privileges of the Chamber, wasnot wrongin summoning him!!! We got away at a little past five.
(7th day.) Prepared for my company; the room looked neat and comfortable. Dr. Bowring and his wife came first, followed by other friends. In the evening to B. Cuvier’s.
(1st day, 20th.) A very comforting Meeting; called on the Bowrings again; saw where a bullet on the 29th of July had broken a pane in the window, just after he had shut it! Description of the dying and wounded beneath them, most affecting! At six some friends came, with whom I had a sitting after tea; tome, a favoured one. Read to them afterwards some lines of mine, serious enough to end the evening satisfactorily; to bed with a thankful heart for all the favours of the day.
(2nd day, 22nd.) Had engaged to go to David’satelier, and to Antommarchi’s, to see the mask of Napoleon, when C. Moreau called early to say he had intended to take me to call on Madame de Genlis, who had promised, if it was fine, to dine with him, but as it rained, he feared she would not come; however, we could call on her. I told him I was engaged till four, but would then call at his house, to go or not as he pleased. Went to D.’s and was delighted with all I saw. Goethe, General Foy, and a brilliant, &c., &c. Went to A.’sau quatrième—very high and fatiguing; but remembered the reward of my toil—the cast, and the fine view from his windows, the cast was there, the view gone, walled up! poor man! I would not,couldnot stay there; the cast more than ever recalled to me Napoleon when First Consul! There was also there a fine print from the picture of Napoleon on his death-bed. Antommarchi so like! I then drove to Moreau’s; the weather was become fine, and we went to la Comtesse de Genlis’; she received me kindly, and I, throwing myself on my feelings, and remembering how much I owed her in the days of my childhood, became enthusiastically drawn towards her, very soon. She is a really pretty old woman of eighty-seven, very unaffected, with nothing of smartness, or affected state or style, about her. We passed through her bed-room (in which hung a crucifix) to hersalon, where she sat, much muffled up, over her wood fire; she had dined at three o’clock, not expecting to be able to go out; but as the weather was fine, she soon consented to accompany us, but she laughing said, she must now go without “sa belle robe.” We said inanygown she would be welcome; she then put on a very pretty white silk bonnet and a clean frill, and we set off. I set them down at C. Moreau’s, and came home to dress, but long before the dinner hour, I was at C. M.’s again, and took my post at the side of Madame de Genlis. A party of distinguished men came to dinner. The table was spread with a mixture of excellent English as well as French dishes; roast beef, boiled turkey, plum puddings, andmince pies! the latter the very best of the sort! Madame M. is an Englishwoman. As usual, St. Simon, and his preaching and doctrines were discussed, and at my end of the table, laughed at. Madame de G. did not talk much at dinner, but by her attention to what passed, and an occasional remark, it was evident nothing was lost upon her. After C. Moreau had given her health, with a most appropriate and flattering speech, wishing her to live many, many years, Julien, l’Encyclopèdiste, gave the health of the King.
I thought Madame de G. conducted herself on this occasion with much simple dignity; yet it was a proud moment for her. She murmured something (and looked at me) about wishing the health of Madame Opie to be drunk; but no one heard her but myself, and I was really glad. When we rose from table, most of the gentlemen accompanied us. The room now filled with French, English, and Americans; many were presented to the venerable Countess, next to whom I sat, and then to me; she seemed to enjoy a scene, to which for some time she had been a stranger. I found, while I was conversing on some interesting subjects, she had been observing me. Afterwards she said, “Je vous aime!” she then added with an archness of countenance and vivacity of manner, the remnant of her best days, “je vous sême,” (imitating the bad pronunciation of some foreigner.) At half-past ten I saw C. Moreau lead Madame de G. out, and I followed them, and paid her every attention in my power, for which she was grateful; when I had wrapt her up, and put on her bonnet for her, my servant got a coach, and C. M., another gentleman, and myself, conducted her home.
[31]
This Bust she left in her will to T. Brightwell.