June 1821

A PRIEST IN HIS COMMON DRESS AND A BOY

May 29th.—As we rather wanted some person to assist our servants, Nannette, the German servant we had at Passy, was sent for. She was most useful in going messages, as she would run all day; several people said they were sure she was not a French woman, she was so active. She, however, had most of the French habits; if she was making a bed, or doing anything else, if she heard anything, down went her work and off she went to see what was the matter. She never could do without going topromenerin the evening, and going for a day up to Paris once every week. Nannette also copied the French in eating; besides taking the same meals as our other servants, she used to be continually eating at odd times. Sometimes she cooked herself somepotage, or else she asked forpainandquelque chose; one dayshe eat half a tureen of cold sorrel soup soon after breakfast; and frequently cold meat and bread. Besides all this, she never went out without buying herself fruit. Her language was a strange mixture of French, English, and German. She hated the French, and used to be very rude to them: they in return could not bear her; they used to call her a Prussian. Our dancing master once said, 'La Prusse est la plus vile de toutes les nations de l'Europe.' If Nannette cleaned a room, she used to throw a pail of water over the floor till the water ran into the passage. The French say themselves, that nothing has spoiled the servants like the Revolution: if anything offends them they will go off; and frequently choose to leave you when you have company, or some time when you most want them.

June 1st.—This day was excessively hot: the heat lasted just three days.

WOMAN WITH THE CURIOUS CAP

June 3rd.—In the morning we were informed by the porter's wife that the waters were to play. In the afternoon we accordingly walked in the palace garden, and were very glad to find it was the case. The gardens were very full, as a great many people had come from Paris to see the waters play. Some of the large waterworks did not play, such as Neptune's Bath; and some of the others only partly. Latona's basin was beautiful; it was playing very little at first, but while we were looking at it all the frogs began to spout water, which formed a bower of water over Latona's head, and covered her and her children. The frogs, lizards, etc., at the bottom, spouted water the contrary way, which did not look so well. In the same basin at each side were two pipes, which sent out a column of water. Apollo's Bath was playing a little out of the horses' mouths. Two smaller pieces of water had a very good effect: in the middle was ajet d'eau; oneach side of one was a lion tearing a wolf, and another lion killing a wild boar; on the other was a tiger tearing a bear, and a blood-hound killing a stag—out of the mouths of these figures came streams of water. The figures are bronze. One of the large waterworks, called Le Basin de l'Obélisque, consists of a number of pipes in imitation of reeds in the middle of the basin, which send out a column of water to the height of 75 feet: this waterwork was playing very little when we were there—it appeared like a basket of froth. Some of the smaller waters are quite as pretty as the large ones: one represents Ceres seated on some sheaves and surrounded by children. Another, a number of children, some holding masks, shells, and one a pair of bellows. The one that I liked best was a small basin, in the middle of which there is a little island which appears to be made of bronze: on this are six little children playing with flowers, and one on each side which seems to swim or float. Out of the island rises a column of water. Thewaters looked particularly pretty among the trees. There were a great many people in the gardens, and the variety of colours resembled a bed of tulips. Some of the people were very oddly dressed. One woman had on a most extraordinary cap composed of pink satin and very pretty lace; she had a gold chain round her neck, a white gown, and pink cotton apron. (Her cap was not at all common.) The French are very fond of colours, and put them on with very bad taste. We saw some people with perhaps a pink handkerchief, a blue sash, a coarse cotton gown, a yellow bonnet, and green shoes. We saw one lady in church with a yellow bonnet spotted with every colour; and another lady with one side of her bonnet one colour, and the other another colour. The ladies are in general very plain. We were told that a lady having tried to persuade an English gentleman that the French ladies were pretty, he took her to one of the great waterworks, where she could see ten thousand people, and told her that he would give her a gown worthfive hundred francs if she could find three handsome women. The lady tried, but was obliged to acknowledge that she could not. The French women have not good figures: the old women are very fat, and the others are as flat as two boards.[18]Many of the ladies were attended bybonnes, some of whom were dressed more neatly than the French women generally are:—with light cotton gowns, muslin handkerchiefs, and caps trimmed with lace over blue or pink paper. The children that were with them were queer-looking little things. The French children are old-fashioned, dull, grave, and ugly: like little old women in their appearance. The babies are wrapt up in swaddling-clothes like mummies,and they wear queer little cotton hats. The nurses carry them very carefully hanging on their arms; they say that nursing them, or tossing them about, makes them mad. Some of the children have long hair hanging down their backs and little hats stuck on the tops of their heads and little ridicules in their hands. We stayed in the gardens this evening later than usual looking at the waters, which from the terrace had a very pretty effect.

A BONNE AND CHILDREN

June 4th.—Our long-expected and much-dreaded hot weather has never arrived, but instead of it cold, wet weather. The French said it was an unusually bad season; they were quiteen colère. It was this day quite a storm; from the quantity of rain which had fallen there was a little canal before the door; and as the dining-room was across the yard, we could hardly get to it in wet weather without getting our feet wet. I never feltanything so cold as it was in France. We used to sit shivering, wrapt up in shawls to try and keep ourselves warm. There were no grates; the fire was lighted on the hearth between two dogs, and we used to sit round it blowing the wood to try and make it burn: to make matters worse there were two holes, one on each side of the fireplace, apparently made to let the smoke into the room; these we were obliged to stuff with paper. It was as bad in bed, and though we had sent repeatedly, we could not get any quilts and only one cotton blanket to each bed. There were no carpets in the rooms; only bare stone floors, from which, besides being very cold, all the red came off on to our gowns. We were most of us sufficiently tired of France. I would have given anything in the world to get back to England, but we thought there was no chance of that for a long time. Every person was dismal: one got the rheumatism, another had a cold, another was ill, another had chilblains, and another was melancholy; and all said theywould not grumble if they did not see other people grumble. I went from room to room, and could get no consolation. In spite of their spectacles and processions, there was a dulness in the streets and a want of life in the people: everything seemed to be creeping along and looking like oysters. The boys amused themselves with a swing; when the soldiers were exercising they used sometimes to look in at the garden gate to watch them. The servants were very dismal: they used often to say how much they had been mistaken in France, and what fine stories they would tell about it when they got back to Cumberland.

June 11th.—This day Euphemia and I went for the first time to Madame Crosnier's. Catherine had gone for some time, and given us a very strange account of it; but notwithstanding all she had said, it was far worse than we had expected. There were twelve orfourteen English girls, three Miss Stephens whom we had formerly seen at Bath, where they did not look at all nice—they were here very well dressed and genteel-looking; Miss Fuller, a daughter of General Fuller, who had a French mamma, a complete little dandy; Miss Fitzgerald, who was a little plague; Miss Molyneux, a nice little girl who had been left there; Miss Julia Carpenter, and several others. The nicest were two Miss Wergs. The eldest was scarcely nine years old. They were sweet, pretty little girls, with good colours; they were a great contrast to the French girls beside them. Ellen Werg told me that they had come to France for their education, and that their papa liked it so much that they were never going home again; but that they and their mamma hated it. They used sometimes to cry when they heard the other girls talk of going home, and say, 'Oh, I wish I was going too!' We used often to see them at church; their papa was very crabbed-looking. They could not speak a word of French: they left school about thesame time as I did without knowing a word more than when they came. Their mamma said it was such a ruinous school they should stay no longer. The French girls were the dirtiest, rudest set I ever saw. They wore very coarse dark cotton frocks or black petticoats, dirty blue or red aprons with pockets, spotted with ink, black worsted stockings, and listen shoes. Some of them had large bunches of keys hung by their sides, and others sashes and braces of broad scarlet galloon. One girl—Mademoiselle Rose—was so dirty, that even Madame Crosnier used to speak to her about it. She had on an old cotton frock bedaubed with ink, that did not meet by three or four inches; through the gap one saw a pair of dirty stays and an old striped worsted petticoat, and on the top of a frock there was a gauze frill hanging in rags. Her hair was matted with dirt. Some of the girls had pieces of green glass in their ears for earrings, black velvet round their head, and gilt combs with the teeth broken out stuck in their dirty, black, uncombedhair, which hung over their faces. Their skins were dirty and yellow. The neatest of these young ladies was a Mademoiselle Sélina—who was conceited-looking, and Mademoiselle Joséphine. The girls' manners were as elegant as themselves—they called each other names, and used the most vulgar words. If in school-time any of them were speaking, and their teacher reproved them, they answered, 'Vous mentez, Mademoiselle, vous êtes menteuse, je ne parle pas.' Indeed, if they were doing a thing all the time they were spoken to, they did not scruple to say they were not. There were, beside Madame Crosnier, Mademoiselle Allemagne, the first teacher; Mademoiselle Croissé, the drawing mistress, who also taught in the schoolroom; and Annette, a kind of half teacher, who had been one of theyoung ladies. I certainly never saw an English kitchen-maid dressed in the way she was. A dirty cap without a border, a black petticoat, a coarse blue gown tucked up like a bed-gown, a very coarse kind of linen apron, and shoes downat the heels, completed her dress. She used to go about with a broom sweeping the rooms. The girls took it by turns to clean the schoolrooms once every week. They used to tuck up their frocks, sweep the dirt into thecabinet noir(or closet into which the litters were swept), and then throw a pail of water on the floor and mop it up. Miss Stephens used to call it hermalheureuse semaine. The first morning we went earlier than usual, school had not begun, and a number of dirty girls were sitting or rather lying on the floor about the passages, looking like a set of gypsies. We went upstairs to thesalle de dessin. Mademoiselle Croissé taught drawing. She was tall and sallow, and was reckoned pretty. She had a pair of staring black eyes, and a great deal of long black hair, which she seemed to admire very much, and used to bring in pieces of butter in a curl-paper and grease it beside us. She had done two very pretty drawings, which she kept to show. We sat down to our drawing. Mademoiselle Croissé drew us aneye for a copy and left us; we might do it or not, just as we pleased, she never looked near us. Little Miss Fitzgerald had been learning drawing for a great many months, but she had only drawn two or three sheets full all the time. Nearly every day that I was there she did not even get out her paper, but sat playing, talking, or running out of the room. Mademoiselle Croissé used sometimes to stand at the window, and if she happened to see a cat, she had such a dislike to the sight of cats that she was obliged to send one of the girls from their drawing to drive these animals away. At other times she was out of the room, or employed with her own drawing, so that she had hardly time to tell us how our drawings looked when we had done them. Once when we had just settled to our drawings (Mademoiselle Croissé absent as usual), in came two of the maids—'Mademoiselle, il faut sortir, car je vais baller la chambre'; we were therefore obliged to decamp. The servants were the rudest set I ever saw. Catherine had a music mistress,Mademoiselle Pascal; but she begged to have her no longer. One of the pianos would hardly sound, and they had no additional keys. The mistress did not seem to understand music very well, and she used to like heavy playing. I do not think it is any credit in the French masters being cheap; at least, from the specimens we saw here they got their money very easily. Monsieur le Chevalier, the writing master, came once or twice a week; he used to sit down at one end of the table, and never move; he had a curious squeaking voice. I could never find out what he did except mending pens, and those were so bad that we were obliged to get Madame Crosnier to mend them afterwards;-she also gave us the copies: he never saw what I had written the whole time. Euphemia one day said to one of the English girls, 'Pray, is that man sitting there, mending pens, called a writing master?' As for the dancing, it was quite a farce. We heard a great deal about thesalle de danse, so we imagined it to be quite a fine place; butwhat did this beautifulsalleturn out to be, but a passage leading to the schoolroom, in which we hung up our hats, etc. There was not a chair in the place. It was to my astonishment that they could dance at all in such a hole as it was. Monsieur Bréton taught here. The girls dressed in the same elegant dresses as they generally wore, and we used often to hear them laughing, crying, and romping. Of course we did not learn.

June 11th.—After we had finished drawing, we went downstairs into the schoolroom. It was a long room; in it there were two tables, which seemed originally to have been white, but they were now almost black with ink-stains and dirt; at the top of one of the tables sat Madame Crosnier, and at the other Mademoiselle Allemagne. We none of us did anything but write and copy one another's writings; Madame Crosnier sat reading the newspapers, every now and then looking upand saying 'travaillez,' or 'paix.' The girls stained all their frocks and aprons with ink; if the rulers were inky they wiped them on their aprons, and if there were not inkstands enough, they had a very short expedient; they made an inkstand of the table, by pouring some ink on it into which they dipped their pens. The paper of the room was torn off, so that in many places one could see the canvas that covered the walls. Round the room were hung several maps, which looked as if they had been nibbled away by mice. The girls jumped over the stools, spirted ink at one another, tossed about the books, and danced upon the tables;[19]it did not seem to be in the teachers' power to make them be quiet, though they sometimes gave them verses to write; but the most common punishment was either making them kneel down (which the girls seemed to think good fun), or else sending for thebonnet de nuit, whichthey put on and laughed. Soon after we had come down, one of the girls brought in Madame Crosnier's breakfast. She used to have such a variety; one day fish, another asparagus and oil, another dressed eggs, another pease, another minced beef, etc., along with this she had bread, and wine and water; and afterwards she had a cup of coffee and some more bread, so that she did very well. Soon after Madame Crosnier had finished her breakfast, they had prayers; the girls knelt down, while one of them gabbled over a prayer as quick as she could; the only words we could distinguish were, 'C'est ma faute, c'est ma faute, c'est ma grande faute, par St. Jean, et St. Paul, et St. Pierre' (then all the French girls crossed themselves). Madame Crosnier and Mademoiselle Allemagne very seldom knelt down; they used to be employed mending pens or correcting exercises. After prayers were finished, the girls got up and wrote as before. Madame Crosnier's two children used to come running in, or squealing at the doormost of school-time. The youngest was quite an infant, a miserable-looking little thing, wrapt up in a woollen cloth, daubed with dirt: the servants used to sit in the kitchen with it on their knees, and stuff its mouth full of curd. The other child was liked by some of the girls, but I thought it a most disagreeable little brat: it had on a dirty, ragged, little brown pinafore, and its face looked as if it was never washed. At twelve o'clock Madame Crosnier rang a bell, and then all the girls left off school, and went into the luncheon-room. The day-scholars brought their own luncheon, mostly bread and cherries, and capillaire or sorbet to drink; two little French girls brought a bottle of wine, or wine and water, which they drankbetweenthem. Those that did not bring their luncheon got the sour French bread and curds, or apples. Mademoiselle Allemagne or Mademoiselle Croissé helped the luncheon. The girls used to eat one, and sometimes two, half slices off the flat loaves a foot in breadth, cut very thick, andsour curd as thick as the bread; the girls used to take dirty knives out of their pockets and spread the curd on the bread. The English girls told us that they got for breakfast, broth or radishes, or apples and bread; for dinner,bouillior roast mutton, and instead of pudding, vegetables dressed with butter; and for supper nearly the same as at luncheon. After luncheon they used to go into the garden (which was more like a wilderness) and skip or run, or sit and talk, or else they used to amuse themselves in the house, in making little baskets, fishes, crosses, birds, etc., of beads; which was very agreeable work.[20]At one o'clock the bell rang again, and we employed ourselves much the same as in the morning, till two o'clock, when school was over. Annette taught in a different room, principally the little ones. We once looked in: all the little girls were sitting dawdling and scribbling round the table upto their elbows in ink; Annette was walking round rapping the table with a short ruler and saying 'travaillez, travaillez.' The youngest of her scholars, who was only five years old, used to walk up and down the passages most of schooltime, and if any of the English girls spoke to her she used to say, 'Moitié Anglaise, moitié Anglaise.' She could, however, speak nothing but French. Notwithstanding the number of English, not one of the French girls could speak a word of English except Mademoiselle Selina, who used to say 'Good nih, good morning.'[21]

We were altogether very much astonished at thisgenteeland select school; if I had not seen it, I could not have thought it possible for the girls to be specimens of French young ladies. I only attended a month, and though, at first, it was a change, I was notsorry to leave such a dirty, disagreeable place. Catherine and Euphemia were ill, and therefore stayed a much shorter time. Madame Crosnier's fête was some months after. I was told that on her fête she gave a ball and supper, to which she invited (besides her own friends) all the young ladies and their parents. One English girl said if she might she would have no wish to come, for she knew they would get nothing but scraps to eat and sugar and water to drink.[22]Before the fête it is the custom to give Madame Crosnier a present. One year they gave her a gown, another year a carpet, and this year it was to be a clock. Each of the girls subscribed ten francs or 8s. 4d., and some of the little ones six francs. They also gave a drawing or some present of their own. At Christmas they each gave a pound of tea or sugar, or a pair of gloves or some other thing.

FRENCH MILLER

Before the girls took theirpremière communion(which they take as soon as they are ten years old) Madame Crosnier instructed them a great deal on their catechism, etc.; they did not come down or speak to any of the other girls for a week before.

Near the stables there were several girls who used to beg from every person they met; two were quite rude. As we went we used to see people sitting out of doors getting their breakfasts or dinners. They seemed to have very curious messes: bread and fruit, broth, and porringers of preserves into which they dipt their bread, for dinner. On one bench we generally used to see a number of millers[23]sitting getting their breakfast, with a very long roll and a knife in their hands, and a bottle ofvin ordinairebeside them.

June 14th.—We had been with Carruthers to the market, and after she had bought her things, as there were more than she couldcarry, she got a boy (of whom there were plenty ready) to carry some of her goods home for her. When we reached home she paid him the common price, but to our surprise he refused to take it unless he could get a great deal more; she then offered him some meat and bread besides the money, but this he also refused unless he might carry away the plate; and to try and frighten Carruthers he said he would go and bring the commissaire. After remaining for a quarter of an hour the porter's wife came in, and after scolding him for some time she at last obliged him to take the money (which she said was more than was usually given) and the meat and go away, which he did, abusing Carruthers all the way. This was one of the boys who used to point at us on our way to school.

June 15th.—I this day went to Paris with mamma and papa: papa had been stayingthere for a few days. We had a very pleasant ride, and reached the Hôtel du Mont Blanc, Rue de la Paix, where papa had been before. This street is one of the best in Paris; there are footpaths at the sides, and the boulevards run along the bottom. We walked along the boulevards under the rows of trees; at one side there are the Chinese baths, the outsides of which are curiously ornamented with artificial rocks and figures holding umbrellas, etc. There seemed to be a great many people idling about. There was a man with a canary in a kind of moss bower; the bird was so tame as to sit still without attempting to fly away. There was another man with a tame hedgehog, which he held up in his hand to the people; it seemed to be playing tricks. We went through the Passage des Panoramas, where we bought a bunch of clear beads for five sous, a sou dearer than at Versailles. We afterwards went to the Palais Royal, where they asked eight sous a bunch: the shops in the Palais Royal are very dear and disagreeable.There were some curious things at the windows.

June 16th.—A very fine day. After breakfast we went in a coach to the flower-market. We walked down it: the women had on large straw hats. There were rows of flower-pots down each side, the prettiest collection I ever saw. There were roses, carnations, myrtles, beautiful campanulas, geraniums, Madagascar periwinkles, etc.: there were also strawberries, currant, apple and orange trees, all in pots. The apple-trees were a a very small kind, the branches of which were covered with fruit; there were likewise little oranges on the orange-trees. From this we drove to the Church of St. Sulpice. There is a picture over the altar on which the light falls from the top. There was a wedding going on in it when we entered. They were a curious-looking pair that were married. I was not near enough to seeplainly what the priest was doing, but when the ceremony was over he passed close by us muttering to himself all the way; he was dressed very finely, but he was the most horrid-looking old man I ever saw; he reminded us of the Inquisition and everything horrible.

Near the church is the Fontaine de St. Sulpice; it is a very plain little fountain. From this we went to Notre Dame, where we saw the end of a christening. After that we went to the Fontaine des Innocents; it is a large, high fountain, with several lions' heads, which were not playing when we saw it. From this we drove to Tivoli. In going to it we passed through the narrowest streets I was ever in. I do not think two carriages could possibly have passed. They were very dirty and close, and had such disagreeable smells; I was not sorry to get through them. We got out at Tivoli, and walked under a kind of trellis-work up to the house where you pay. Tivoli is not near so nice, or so large as Sydney Gardensat Bath. There are several winding walks bordered with Austrian roses, box, etc. There are a great number of swings and roundabouts of ships, swans, and horses. We saw a man playing at a kind of game; to a long wooden box was fastened a string with a wooden bird at the end of it; he threw it so as to fire a pistol, and then Cupid came out of the top. At one part of the garden there is a steep hill; at the top is a temple, and near the bottom a sort of grotto; at the top are kinds of carriages, and whoever wants to ride down gets into one; they slide in grooves down the hill and under the grotto. I should think it would be a frightful thing. After we had walked over the garden we went into a café and got some cakes and wine. We then left Tivoli and walked up to Montmartre; it is very steep up to it, but when one gets to the top near some windmills one has a view of the whole of Paris and the country round it, quite like a panorama. On our way home we stopped at several shops to buy a cap; butthey asked us very dear, and had nothing particularly nice. At some shops there is written 'English spoken here,' and on one 'Englishspikedhere.' It requires a great deal of bargaining to get things for a right price. At some shops there is written 'prix fixe.' The people in the shops are remarkably plain, and plainly dressed.

THE FOUNTAIN WITH THE ANIMALS (p. 81).

THE CUPID AT TIVOLI (p. 105).

LATONA'S BASIN (p. 81).

June 17th.—No sooner were we out of bed than there came several men before our windows, and played tunes. One man came into the street with a fiddle, which he played on, made grimaces, and jumped about as if he were crazy. He was a most extraordinary-looking creature; he was dressed like a merry-andrew, with a white wig and a queue on his head; if one had seen him in England one would have thought he was mad. While he was capering about, another man came into the street with a puppet-show; he put a table on the ground, and made first some men and women, and then a carriage,go round it[24]In the middle of the day we walked in the gardens of the Tuileries, which were excessively crowded, and through the square of the Louvre. It is the most beautiful thing of the kind I ever saw; I think it is a much more magnificent palace than that of Versailles. It is beautifully carved round every window and door, and excessively white and clean-looking. I altogether admired this palace, and the Colonne de la Place Vendôme, the most of any of the buildings in Paris. In the evening I walked with papa on the boulevards as far as the Fontaine de Bondy, which was not playing. It was dark when we came back, and the boulevards were crowded with people. The cafés were lighted up, and were full of people sitting taking refreshments. There were stalls like a fair, puppet-shows, and conjurers. I never saw anything so unlike Sunday.[25]

FRENCH PUPPET SHOW

June 18th.—We went to the Palais Royal (on our way we bought a souvenir). I wanted some little remembrance of France: we went into several shops in the Palais Royal, and the cheapest thing I could get there was a little gilt cart and horse, for which the woman asked ten francs. We, however, got it for eight, which was far too much, as we got as pretty a one in the Rue de la Paix for half the price; we also got some silk winders of mother-of-pearl. The shops in the Palais Royal are very dear and disagreeable: the people seem to make quite a favour of selling you anything.[26]Near this we got some strawberries and cream in a café (Véfours). After that we drove to the Luxembourg. We walked in the gardens, which areveryformal, but pretty in their way; there are a greatmany flowers and roses growing out of the banks of grass. There are a few basins of water, and a great number of statues. We did not see the inside of the palace. As we were returning we saw the King in his coach a good way before us; he had a great many attendants with him. In the afternoon we dined at Major Cape's. Most of the party liked France very much. Just before we went there we saw a crowd in the street, and after looking a little while we observed a man dressed up in scarletà laHenri Quatre, with a feather in his hat, on horseback. He rode up and down, and seemed to be making a speech. The people then made a large circle round him, and three little boys and a girl who were with him, dressed up like merry-andrews, got on stilts, and marched and danced before him. The man then got off his horse, and got on stilts; the man and the children were on stilts so as to make them the same height, so that the least, who did not look above five or six years old, must have been more than a yard from the ground.They all took hold of hands, waltzed,sauteused, ran under each other's arms, and danced a fine figure-dance. The man did the worst. They danced to the beating of a drum; the little one curtsied on his stilts, and after they had done, the man put him on the horse, and sent him round to collect money. We stayed very late at Major Cape's; and I was glad to go to bed when we came in.

June 19th.—This was the last day I was to stay in Paris, for which I was very sorry, as I liked being in Paris a great deal better than in Versailles. There are some very amusing things in Paris, though I do not think it is to be compared to London. We expected Miss Wragge and brothers and sisters to see the museum, which we had been long promised. Miss Wragge, Barbara, the two boys, and Caroline came just after we had finished breakfast; but Catherineand Euphemia were so ill they could not come. (Catherine was not well when we came to Paris, but we hoped by this time she would have been better.) After they had come we bought some gilt gigs, baskets, etc., in averycheap,civilshop in the Rue de la Paix, where there were a great many little ornaments. We also bought some silk shoes at a good shop near. After we came in, Mr. and Mrs. Fisher called. We did not go to the museum, but went instead to the Louvre, where we had a longer view of the pictures than before; I did not like them better this time than when I first saw them. There were several Quakers in the Louvre; we saw some in the streets of Paris at different times. As soon as we came back from the Louvre we returned to Versailles. On our way we saw the Duchesse d'Angoulême in an open carriage. When we reached the Avenue de Sceaux we found Catherineveryill, and Euphemia not at all well.

June 20th.—Before breakfast we went to see the girls and boys take theirpremière communionat Notre Dame. The church was so full we could hardly get near to see them.[27]The first set of young ladies that came in were dressed in white muslin frocks trimmed with lace and satin, white sashes, gloves, shoes, and ridicules, lace and white satin caps, and lace or muslin veils; the next set were dressed in the same way with pink sashes; the third set blue; the fourth set green; and the two next sets white. After that came a school of girls dressed in buff cotton frocks and common muslin veils, who seemed to be poor girls: several nuns sat with them. Another set had on thick white frocks. All the girls sat in a seat by themselves. The boys had bows of white ribbon on their arms. Madame Crosnier's school was very smart with white sashes like the others; those ofher girls who did not take their communion were dressed in neat white frocks, scarlet sashes, and Leghorn bonnets. Madame Crosnier and her teachers were very nicely dressed. The girls had every advantage that dress could give them; but we could not help remarking how very different a set of English girls would look to those with their dingy complexions. They had candles in their hands, which they lighted and blew out several times during mass. Some of the candles were very much ornamented with gold paper, etc.; one had a little gilt basket filled with flowers round it, and others lyres on them. I thought there was a great chance of the girls setting fire to each other as they sat close together. While we were in the church there were two women with a little child beside us, which squalled and fretted the whole time. It first would have one thing, and then another. The women managed it excessively stupidly; they first gave it a cake, then snatched it away from it, then whipped it, then kissed it; and they lookedat each other as much as to say it is impossible to make it be quiet. The French children are little petted, disagreeable, spoiled things; they say that it hurts their health to find fault with them.[28]They are very dirty, and their heads are covered with a cap of dirt which they call theÉcaille du bon Dieu, and it is reckoned a kind of sacrilege to take it off. Even the highest ranks of people do not comb their children's hair till they are two years old, that they may be covered with this cap of dirt, which, they say, prevents them having sore eyes and makes them cut their teeth easily. Another prejudice that they have is that nursing and tossing the children about makes them mad; the doctors say that it is only the dull air ofEnglandthat requires it:[29]some of them say that it is that which causes so many mad people in England. The consequence is that the French babies are dull, heavy, and stupid.We were obliged to leave the church to go to breakfast, so we missed seeing the girls take the sacrament, which they take on their tongues and eat whole without breaking it. After they had done we saw them go home; Madame Crosnier's school went in a coach. In the evening we went again to Notre Dame, where one of the priests preached a sermon to the boys and girls that had taken the sacrament, and told them to prepare for being confirmed the next morning. After the sermon was finished they walked in procession round the inside of the church, the girls first and the boys after, with lighted candles in their hands. Some of the candles were so much broken that they could hardly hold them upright. One or two of the girls did not look more than six or seven years old: we supposed that they had not been taking the communion, but were only walking in the procession. It was altogether a pretty sight. After they had walked round the church they all went home. When they receive theirpremière communionit is customaryto give the priest something: this time they gave a clock.

June 23rd.—This day is the fête of St. Jean. We were told that in the evening there was to be a tree burnt down opposite the palace. Accordingly Miss Wragge, brothers, and some of the servants, went to see the ceremony. A tree was fixed up round which were tied bundles of straw and faggots, and a guard stood round it. The son of the governor of the château came out in great style, attended by several servants, with a torch in his hand; he set fire to the tree, and the people tried to pull away the faggots as they were burning. The whole party gave me a very poor account of it. The servants said they could not think what made the people make such a fuss about seeing a bit of a tree burnt down.

June 24th.—This was theFête Dieu, a grand fête day in France. Soldiers and priests were passing all the morning. There was a procession at eight o'clock, which I did not see. At half-past eleven we went to the Avenue de St. Cloud, where we were told the procession would pass. There were averygreat number of people, amongst others our porter's wife, who ran to get near the procession that the priests might touch her baby. We stood near Madame Crosnier's school; the girls (except Mademoiselle Rose, who was much as usual) were neatly dressed. There were soldiers along each side of the avenue. We were amused at several women who tried to run quickly across before the procession. After we had waited for a long time the procession at last came:—1st, three men on horseback; 2nd, a man in a red gown trimmed with fur, who carried a large red flag—two boys held the strings; 3rd, a man in purple who held a purple flag—twoboys held the strings; 4th, a priest with a red flag—two priests held the strings; 5th, pioneers and a band of music; 6th, priests singing; 7th, a number of priests with books and crosses, and a concierge; 8th, priests with censors full of incense, and baskets full of flower-leaves;[30]9th, several priests holding a crimson velvet canopy, under which was the Bishop of Versailles, an old man of eighty-four. A number of pages dressed in coats embroidered with gold, fleurs-de-lys, etc., and a number of officers, closed the procession. Along each side of the avenue there walked the boys and girls who had taken theirpremière communion, dressed as before. The girls walked on one side and the boys on the other. One of the girls was dressed in white silk and a blue and gold mantle, with long hair over her face and back. We were told that this little girl was dedicated to the Virgin; she was a very curious-looking figure. Several nuns walked with thegirls. After them, along each side, there walked a number of priests in very brilliant dresses, gold, red, and green, etc. Besides these there were priests in different parts of the procession. Every now and then the procession stopped, and the priests that went before the bishop turned round and threw incense and flowers, which looked very pretty.

After the procession had passed, we went to see thereposoirof the Lyceum, which we were told was the prettiest. It is a building like a temple. The doors were shut, but a very civil, gentlemanly-looking person let us go in. The pillars were hung with wreaths of green, and there were rows of trees in boxes up the middle, cut like those in the gardens. The altar was a good deal ornamented: there were golden candlesticks, artificial flowers, etc., on it. They were putting away the things while we were there. The person who let us in said it was customary to give away the flowers; we got two or three, which were all that were left. Beforethereposoirthere was grass laid for the priests to kneel upon; we saw some women picking it up. There was anotherreposoirin the Avenue de Berri, and one near us at the end of the Avenue de Sceaux, which was made slightly up, out of doors. There were flower-pots on the sides, and a cross of lilies and roses on the top. The children had dressed up little chapels on tables against the wall, in the streets, with little figures, vials full of flowers, coloured paper, etc. As people went by they came to beg 'pour la petite chapelle.' One girl who came was quite a monster: she had no nose, and two teeth that stuck out of her mouth like tusks. Out of some of the windows in the streets were hung pieces of tapestry and old carpets.

June 26th.—Catherine was now extremely ill; indeed, no person seemed very well. What with the cold, and one thing and another, we grew more dismal than ever. This day papa told us for our comfort (for the first time)that as soon as Catherine was able we should all go home. This piece of intelligence made us all happy for a short time, as it was what we did not at all expect. I cannot tell what made me dislike France so very much; one reason I think was that I raised my expectations too high. I had heard so much of the fine climate, the excellent fruit, and the lively people, that I was quite disappointed at the cold weather, the bad fruit,[31]and the dull people. Besides, I felt so far away from home that I grew quite unhappy. Nothing seemed agreeable; I was tired of the gardens and the processions. My greatest amusement was a little rose-tree that died soon after I got it. In the morning when I got up, the only thing I wished was that the day was over, and that we had a day less to stay at Versailles. The family that had lived above us was now gone. Miss Ward andMiss Johnson—two Irish ladies, with Mab, their French servant—now inhabited that part of the house. They had come to France on account of being ill. They were remarkably civil in sending down 'comed-milk,'[32]fruit, or anything else they thought Catherine might like.

June 28th.—Carruthers saw our bread-baker standing at the street door talking to some women, withnothingon him but asmallapron. The French do not seem to haveanyidea what delicacy is.

June 29th.—We went to thelavoirwhich is at the end of the Avenue de Sceaux. It is covered at both sides, and the water is between. There are boxes full of straw placed along for the women to kneel on.They beat the clothes with wooden things of this shape. When we saw it this time there were twenty women. One good-natured, civil kind of woman took us to see her wash-house, where she made lie. She told us a great deal about thelavoir. A porter takes charge of it; theblanchisseusespay three, and thebourgeoisesfour sous each time, and so much for line for drying their things upon. It closes at seven o'clock. The people go to the porter and say, 'Place my boxes in such a place for so many,' and then he arranges them accordingly. I took a sketch of the side of thelavoir; the people seemed very much amused at it. One disagreeable kind of woman called out, 'Mettez moi en peinture, elle n'est pas gentille, je suis plus gentille qu'elle,' and then she held up her face to show us how pretty she was.[33]She told us to draw a woman with a barrow, and she laughed and said, 'Elle est blanchisseuse de torchons.'

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