Part 10 (1/2)
At starting from Berlin I was threatened with the loss of everything I owned, and this is how it happened:
My horses were ordered for five o'clock in the morning. My man servant must have gone to make his adieus to some friends, for he did not appear, and in Prussia, as every one knows, horses do not wait. I got up and dressed in a thoroughly sleepy condition. Meanwhile the porter of my hotel, not seeing my man, took my jewel-case downstairs with my remaining effects. This jewel-case, which contained all my diamonds and other ornaments, and my cash--my whole fortune, in fact--I always had under my feet when travelling. By the greatest luck, as soon as I got into my carriage, though half asleep, I noticed that my feet were not supported as usual. The horses were just off. I cried out to have them stopped, and then called to the porter for my jewel-case, purposely making enough noise to wake the mistress of the house. And I was successful, for, after some evasions by the porter, the case was brought out. It had been found in a stable at the back of the yard, all covered with hay. The incident had given my man time to arrive, and I drove away in high spirits, as may well be imagined, at having recovered both my servant and my jewel-case. I record the adventure thinking it may be useful as a lesson to absent-minded travellers.
From Berlin I went to Dresden, and then on to Brunswick, where I spent a few days with the Riviere family. Between Brunswick and Weimar my postilion lost the way, and we were stuck for hours in the heaviest soil. I remember that as a truce to my impatience--and more particularly to my appet.i.te--I gathered up some of that wretched earth and tried to model a head with it; I really achieved something that looked like a face. Though furnished with letters for the court at Weimar, I did not present them, but after a day's rest proceeded to Gotha. Here I met an old friend I had known in Paris, Baron Grimm, who very civilly attended to all my wants for the journey, which I did not again interrupt until I reached Frankfort. We were obliged to wait at Frankfort six days, during which I was very much bored. To pa.s.s the time I mended my old s.h.i.+rts, and the Lord knows what sort of sewing that was! On reaching Paris I engaged a chambermaid, who remarked, when she saw my mending, ”Any one can see that Madame has been in a savage country, for this is sewn like the devil.” I laughed and informed her that it was my own handiwork. The poor girl, quite embarra.s.sed, was eager to take back what she had said, but I rea.s.sured her by acknowledging that I had never been an adept with the needle.
I will not attempt to describe my feelings at setting foot on the soil of France, from which I had been absent twelve years. I was stirred by terror, grief and joy in turn. I mourned the friends who had died on the scaffold; but I was to see those again who still lived. This France, that I was entering once more, had been the scene of horrible crimes. But this France was my country!
CHAPTER XV
OLD FRIENDS AND NEW
PARIS AFTER THE REVOLUTION -- RENEWING OLD ACQUAINTANCES AND FORMING NEW TIES -- RIVAL BEAUTIES: MME. ReCAMIER AND MME.
TALLIEN -- MME. CAMPAN -- AN ENGLISHWOMAN'S SLIP OF THE TONGUE -- SOME DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNERS.
On my arrival in Paris at our house in the Rue Gros Chenet, M. Lebrun, my brother, my sister-in-law, and her daughter were awaiting me when I alighted from my carriage; they were all weeping for joy, and I, too, was deeply moved. I found the staircase lined with flowers, and my apartment in complete readiness. The hangings and curtains of my bedroom were in green cloth, the curtains edged with yellow watered silk. M. Lebrun had had a crown of gilt stars put over the bedstead, the furniture was all convenient and in good taste, and I felt altogether comfortably installed. Although M. Lebrun made me pay dearly enough for all this, I nevertheless appreciated the pains he had taken to make my place of abode agreeable.
The house in the Rue Gros Chenet was separated by a garden from a house facing the Rue de Clery, which also belonged to M. Lebrun. In this second house was a great room where very fine concerts were given. I was taken there the evening of my arrival, and as soon as I entered the place everybody turned in my direction, the audience clapping their hands, the musicians rapping on their violins with their bows. I was so touched by this flattering testimony that I gave way to tears. I call to mind that Mme. Tallien was at this concert, radiant with beauty.
My first visitor, next day, was Greuze, whom I found unchanged. You would even have said that he had never undressed his hair, for the same locks waved at each side of his head--just as before my departure. I was grateful for his attention, and very glad to see him again. After Greuze came my good friend, Mme. de Bonneuil, as pretty as ever; the dear creature was preserved in a truly wonderful manner.
She told me that her daughter, Mme. Regnault de Saint-Jean-d'Angely, was to give a ball the following night, and that I must come unfailingly. I answered that I had no ball dress, and then showed her that famous piece of Indian stuff given me by Mme. Du Barry, which had gone through such great adventures since being in my possession. Mme.
de Bonneuil declared it admirable, and sent it to Mme. Germain, the celebrated dressmaker, who immediately made me a fas.h.i.+onable gown, which she brought me that very evening. So I went to Mme. Regnault de Saint-Jean-d'Angely's ball, and I saw the handsomest women of the period, first among them Mme. Regnault herself, and next Mme.
Visconti, so remarkable for her beauty of both figure and face. While amusing myself with looking over all these lovely ladies, some one sitting in front of me turned round. She was so exquisite that I could not help exclaiming, ”Oh, how beautiful you are!” It was Mme.
Jouberthon, then portionless, who afterward married Lucien Bonaparte.
I also saw a number of French generals at this ball. Macdonald, Marmont and several others were pointed out to me. In fact, this was a new society.
A few days after my return Mme. Bonaparte called upon me one morning.
She spoke of the b.a.l.l.s at which we had been together before the Revolution; she was most cordial, and even invited me to dinner at the First Consul's. However, the date of this dinner was never mentioned.
My friend Robert soon paid me a visit, and so did the Brongniarts, and Menageot. I was very deeply touched with the joy testified by the friends and acquaintances who crowded to see me every day. But the pleasure of greeting them all was bitterly mingled with sorrow at learning of many deaths I was ignorant of, for not an individual came who had not lost a mother, a husband, or some relation.
And I had another trial to undergo, worse than all the rest. Good manners demanded a visit to my odious stepfather. He still lived at Neuilly, in a small house bought by my father, where I had often been in my early youth. Everything in the place reminded me of my poor mother and my happy days with her. I found her workbasket just as she had left it. In short, the visit was the more sad for me as I was mournfully inclined. Going to Neuilly, I for the first time recrossed the Louis XV. square, where I still seemed to see the blood of a host of n.o.ble victims. My brother, who was with me, reproached himself for not having made our carriage take a different route, since I was suffering beyond belief. At this very day I never pa.s.s that square without calling up the horrors it has witnessed--I cannot control my imagination.
The first time I went to the play the house looked exceedingly dull to me. Accustomed as I had been, in France and abroad, to see every one powdered, those dark heads and those men in dark clothes made a melancholy picture. You would have thought the audience had a.s.sembled to go to a funeral.
In general, Paris had a less lively appearance to me. The streets seemed so narrow that I was tempted to believe double rows of houses had been built. This was no doubt due to my recent impressions of St.
Petersburg and Berlin, where the streets, for the most part, are very wide. But what displeased me far more was still to see ”liberty, fraternity or death” written on the walls. These words, sanctified by the Terror, aroused the saddest thoughts in me touching the past, and inspired me with some fears for the future.
I was taken to see a great review by the First Consul in the square of the Louvre. I stood at a window in the museum, and recollect that I refused to acknowledge the tiny man I saw to be Bonaparte; the Duke de Crillon, who was beside me, had all the difficulty in the world to convince me. Here, as in the case of Catherine II., I had depicted such a famous man in the shape of a giant. Not long after my arrival Bonaparte's brothers came to view my works; they were very civil toward me, and said the most flattering things. Lucien, especially, inspected my ”Sibyl” quite minutely, and proffered me a thousand praises on account of it.
My first visits were to my good old friends, the Marquise de Grollier, Mme. de Verdun and the Countess d'Andlau, whose two daughters I saw at the same time, Mme. de Rosambeau and Mme. d'Orglande, both worthy of their mother in mind and good looks. I likewise went to see Mme. de Segur. I found her lonely and dejected; her husband had no post, and they were living in straitened circ.u.mstances. Later, when I came back from London, Bonaparte made the Count de Segur Master of Ceremonies, which gave them an easy life. I remember how, about this time, going to see the Countess Segur toward eight in the evening, and finding her alone, she said to me: ”You would scarcely believe I have had twenty people to dinner. They all went after the coffee.” I was, indeed, rather surprised, because before the Revolution most of the guests you had to dinner would remain with you until evening, which I thought much more proper than the new method.
At the same time Mme. de Segur invited me to a large musical party at which all the notables of the day came together. Here I had occasion to observe another innovation, which seemed to me no better than the first. I was astonished, when I entered the room, to find all the men on one side and all the women on the other--like hostile forces, you would have said. Not a man came over to our side excepting the master of the house, the Count de Segur, impelled by his old habits of gallantry to pay the ladies a few compliments. Mme. de Canisy was announced, a very handsome woman, with the figure of a painter's model. And then we lost our only knight, for the Count went to lay himself at the feet of this beauty, and did not leave her the whole evening.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MME. COURCELLES.]
I was seated next to Mme. de Ba.s.sano, who had been praised highly to me, and whom I had thus been anxious to see. She seemed very much wrapped up in the diamond monogram given me by the Queen of Naples when I bade that Princess farewell. Moreover, considering me probably as an interloper, since I was neither a minister's wife nor a lady of the court, she spoke not a single word to me, which did not, however, prevent me from looking at her repeatedly and judging her extremely pretty.