CHAPTER XV.

April 22.
T HIS morning I accompanied Mrs. T — , of South Carolina, to Lady Cowper’s residence, 17 Avenue Friedland — to hear Lord Radstock preach. He is an Englishman of rather pleasing appearance, — his delivery quiet, simple and effective. The crowded parlors bore testimony to liis efficiency in the holy work ; and although not educated for the ministry, he has the reputation of rousing the sluggish heart to a love of Jesus, teaching it to explore beyond the vain attractions of the world. In the absence of instrumental music Lord R — led the hymn, which began with these simple words, in allusion to the surpassing love of the Savior, “ Ah ! how He loves ! ” The morning was bathed in sunlight, yet there still lingered on the foliage, in Lady C — 9 s garden, some trembling, pearly drops from the recent showers — those gentle fertilizers that April so lavishly dispenses.
April 25. — The French Charity Ball, at the Grand Hotel, was a repetition of the one given a few nights since, except that the crowd, at a late hour, grew so dense as to render a promenade almost impossible. Our party, arriving at half past nine, found the dancing
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space of the salon encircled by ladies (most of whom were seated), all evidently waiting for the ball to open. To prevent a further waste of delightful music, Miss Morse, with Col. McClure, the Duke d’Artalia, as my partner, and several other couples, inaugurated the move- ment. At the conclusion of our quadrille, hundreds of dancers appeared, as if by magic ; and, ere long, tulle, flowers, and other millinery debris were strewn over the floor — stifled humanity vainly sighing for space and air. The large corridor adjoining the ball-room afforded temporary relief, and the only opportunity to see, to ad- vantage, the beauty, grace and gallantry that had re- sponded to a noble call. *****
To-day we attended a brilliant matinee at the house of the Duchess Riario-Sforza, where was gathered the flower of French aristocracy.
April 27. — After a late dinner, the beautiful twilight, so soft and mellow, lured us to a promenade. The moon peered out in crescent shape, and the lovely even- ing star, a bride among her legion sisters, made many eyes wander admiringly towards the heavens. All Paris seemed to be out for a stroll. In the Champs Elysees little children had extended their hours of recreative sport, and were riding around a circle on hobby-horses. A pretty little boy, in a blue coat, with spear in hand, a la tournament, fairly jumped for joy, when, at the third attempt, he successfully bore off the ring ; a feat of diffi- cult accomplishment, simple though it seemed, and re- quiring great steadiness of eye and aim. The pavilions,
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cafes and theatres near by, were all brilliantly lighted, and threw their gleams upon the shrubbery and trees which already boast a “ leafy pride.” To-day I heard the celebrated professor and composer, Jacques Potliard Alsini , sing. His voice is sympathetic, and his compo- sitions, La mer se plaint toujour 8 , and L’ Innocence — sung by Patti — are worthy of the highest encomiums.
April 29. — Lord Radstock lectured again this morn- ing to a large company, French, English and American, at Lady Cowper’s. Thp exercises concluded with the hymn, “Oh! I have found a friend! Jesus is mine!” which was sung with much fervor. The remainder of the day we passed at the Bois, rambling through the shady groves, and gathering wild flowers, quite indiffer- ent to the gendarmerie whose duty it is to prevent such depredations. The sun shone out in full splendor, lend- ing to the atmosphere a genial, balmy warmth, and everything was so inviting, that we were glad to linger longer than the short hour or two which the fashion- able world in fine carriages, usually devote to seeing, and being seen. Several brides, in white attire, and flowing vails, were enjoying a promenade with their husbands. It is not an uncommon thing for one to see here, — a pied — couples who have but just left the hy menial altar— a custom of the bourgeoisie too conspi- cuous to accord with our rather reserved American notions. An opportunity was offered for a row across the lake, in a little boat that displayed the tri-colored flag; the dip of our oars, and the sailing of the stately u*
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white swans creating the only ripple on its surface. Then followed a lunch in front of the Swiss Chalet, on the green lawn, where divers ducks soon gathered, all covetous of the dainty crumb. An ugly black duck gobbled up all the nice sponge cake, freely dealt out as bait to a pretty white one, which we discovered was fairer than it was smart, impressing us with the idea that stupidity is often linked to beauty. Another spot, cool and shadowy, the beautiful Cascade de Longchamps, was most inviting. Its craggy mound rises to the height of forty feet, and stretches out in w’idth, one hundred and eighty. A limpid stream, w r ith glistening spray, dashes down from a little lake above into a large basin, whose borders arc studded with rocks. Passing through a rugged labyrinth, under the cascade, the visitor can wind his w T ay up to the summit, where a fine view of the picturesque country around is to be obtained.
Aftril 30. — In our morning promenade, along the Rue de Rivoli, we met numbers of young girls, dressed and veiled in W'liitc, on their way to the churches to take their first communion. It w r as beautiful to behold youth thus arrayed in the garb of purity, for a consecra- tion to God and the church. How impressive is such a sight ; and what an example to those who have lived long years in the darkness, without the light of faith and Christian love ! Added to the sw’ect spring delights of buds and blossoms, that make me happy to-day, are home-letters freighted with a mother’s love. Truly it is
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“The gushing spring,
That sends a sweet and silver stream (Beneath whose low, dim murmuring The soul lies down to dream Of vanished good, from present ill,
When all its other harps are still!)
Along life's dull and narrow vale To haunt us like an ancient tale,
And on our path, where’er we roam Go, singing of its home.”
****** To-night, by invitation of Prof. Morse and family, I attended a concert at the Conserva- toire de Musique. The rapid movement of fans every where around indicated the intense heat that prevailed; but who would not have patiently endured even a sirocco, for such superb music, vocal and instrumental? The compositions of the great masters, Beethoven, Rossini, Weber and Boieldieu, were performed by at least a hun- dred instrumentalists. Mile. Battu received an encore on that charming Neapolitan song, Santa Lucia; and Mr. Theodore Ritter executed in dashing, brilliant style several piano-pieces, one of which was his own composi- tion — Lcs courriers. After this delightful treat of music, Mme. Madelaine Brohan, the celebrated actress, appeared in a short comedy, Le cheveu blanc , by Octave Feuillet.
May 1. — With the morning’s earliest sunshine came a gentle chirping — not a knocking at my door, or a gloomy raven croaking — the twittering of some little birds on the balcony railing, seeming to say :
“ Thy life is in its time of flowers,
Gather May-garlands while ’tis May.”
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And this is the merry day when queens are crowned with roses bright, and maidens dance on the village- green ; but, apart from the associations of the good old- time festival, it is dear to me as the anniversary of an event linked with gladness. *****
To-night, Musard’s concert proved an attraction. A lyre, at the entrance, studded with tiny gas jets, served to beguile many a passer-by into the enclosure, which affords a truly brilliant promenade, alfresco . The mu- sicians, numbering fifty or more, occupied a pavilion, where they discoursed delightful operatic airs — the sweet gems of Martha being among the selections. Nothing is more consonant with the feelings and tastes of the French people than an open-air concert, for they dote on the freedom of the gardens. The seats, arranged around the pavilion, are usually occupied while the band is playing, and perfect order reigns. In the intervals, the promenades present a lively appearance, with a varied assemblage, from the vain coxcomb and the dash- ing belle, to the serious, plain, old man, who only goes for the entertainment of the young daughter clinging to his arm.
May 3. — After another charming day at Versailles, I have returned, with heart and brain filled to pleasurable excess with its myriad, unrivalled beauties. There I visited Madame Santa Cruz, the widow of a distin- guished South American, who filled the positions of General, Marshal, and President of Bolivia, and who also won proud renown in uniting that country with
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Peru. Her home is a miniature chateau, furnished with the most recherche taste, and abounding in paintings ; her family most cordial and hospitable. Before the car- riage was ready to take us to the Grand Trianon, the delicious morning had enticed us to a promenade in a little garden attached to the dwelling, where the fra- grance of. orange-flowers and lilac was heavy on the air.
I tried my luck at target-shooting, with two youths, Andres Santa Cruz and Robert Meeks, who were decided adepts in the art. Each aimed at a lilac-branch full of bloom, bringing it down with a single shot, and made me the recipient of a floral trophy. Then followed a drive through the noble avenues leading to that charm- ing villa which the munificent Louis XIY prepared for Mme. de Maintenon. As we passed through the apart- ments, a large crowd closely followed on our steps, it being the day for the fountains to play. Owing to the* great rush, it was with difficulty that we kept near the guide, who, evidently anxious to get through his work, hurried us along, describing, at telegraph-speed, the prin- cipal objects of interest. How attractive the suite of salons! — the reception-room, with its portraits and paintings ; the saloon that takes its name from a valua- ble malachite — Alexander’s gift, in honor of the “ treaty of Tilsit;” — the gallery where superb tables and vases, in rich mosaics and malachite, vie with each other in beauty ; the royal apartments, profusely gilded — the most conspicuous one containing the bed whose proudest asso- ciation is that it was used by Josephine; and the coun- cil-room, where Napoleon signed the fatal articles of
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divorce! In a building not far from the Grand Trianon we saw the state carriages, which impressed us more with the pomp of royalty than all we had seen in the glittering palace. The most magnificent one was built in 1825, for the Monarch Charles X, who rode to his coronation on its soft velvet cushions ; but the gilding has been retouched, and it is otherwise newly decorated, to serve him who now wields the sceptre of France. One was used by Napoleon I when he was First Con- sul, and another is distinguished as having borne infant royalty to the holy rites of baptism. After counting seven, our attention was directed to the sledges that be- longed to Louis XIV. The painting on the side of one of them is exquisitely fine. Not the least in interest, though last in order, was Marie Antoinette’s sedan-chair, which bore her person in the days of her queenly tri- # umph. Alas ! where were comforts and honors a few years later ? The Petit Trianon, another mansion built for a King’s favorite, was closed ; but all disappoint- ment was soon forgotten when our steps reached the grounds — a lovely Paradise, adjoining the residence/ If we did not fear to incur the sin of sacrilege, we might say that this spot is a reflex of the bright land above. The handiwork of the Creator is manifest in the green sloping vales and hillocks, the tender flowers and foli- age, and the silvery streams ; and added to God’s im- perishable seal — man’s art. We do not wonder at Marie Antoinette’s throwing off for a time the crown, to be- come a rustic queen; at her being beguiled from the wearisome formalities of the Court, to accept some mo-
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ments of freedom in the quiet groves ; at the little Swiss cottage, or at that more humble spot, the laitei'ie. The little brook near by still murmurs the same music that once gladdened her ears, and thousands come to wander over the soil that has borne the impress of her footsteps. And what are the reflections of the visitor as he treads this ground ? At what a fearful price is worldly station sometimes gained ! — the soul, in clinging to its flimsy allurements, finding failure and disappointment; and reaping, from a few brief joys, a harvest of sorrow ! Her bust in plaster, much defaced by the scribblings of tourists, occupies a bracket attached to an outside wall of the laiterie. The theatre once used by the Court would have received more than a flitting glance, had there not remained much more of the fairy-land to be explored within a certain time — some verdure-clad bow- ers ; a labyrinth ; and a little conservatory, on whose outside walls thick bunches of lilac were trained, pre- senting at a distance the appearance of clusters of grapes. Resuming our carriage, we drove along the banks of the great canal, which, at one point, gives off two cross branches. Mile. Santa Cruz told me that pleasant row- ing parties often met there during the summer months. Who would not be lulled to peace and happiness, float- ing over these still waters, bordered with curtains of " living green ” from a thousand trees, and with a fair sky above to shed bright sunlight?
Upon our return to the principal grounds, where the fountains had begun to play, we found an admiring world in the fifty thousand persons that had collected to
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witness the rare and beautiful sight. The various foun- tains played in succession, the smaller ones leading off; and, thus, were our feet kept busy in moving rapidly from point to point. The crystal spray flew around, regardless of handsome silks, and imparting to the atmosphere a moisture very acceptable, inasmuch as old Sol’s rays, like les eaux, were fairly flooding Versailles. Guide-books have described so minutely these interest- ing adornments, that a word from us who come after, is like a single drop added to their ocean of thought, yet we cannot refrain from mentioning the Bronze Nymphs; the Animals and Cupids; the Tritons and Syrens, holding laurel crowns ; the Dragon ; the Pyra- mid; Latona’s Victory; Diana’s Nymphs; the Four Seasons, with their representative Gods and Goddesses, Saturn, Bacchus, Flora and Ceres ; Enceladus, the Giant, revengeful against Heaven ; Apollo at the Bath, — his grouping Nymphs and all the other surroundings being of the most perfect sculpture ; and lastly, Neptune, who as God of the Sea, justly presides over, and names the largest and most splendid of all the fountains. As we stood on the green lawn opposite, the myriad jets that, at a given signal, simultaneously rose from various parts of the immense basin, seemed like shot-off rockets, lighted as they were into prismatic colors by the slant- ing sunlight; and then a volume of water burst forth from the colossal groups of leaden figures, until, far and wide, a showery mist settled around. Not only were foreheads and garments sprinkled, but the mossy banks and leaves caught many a sparkling drop. The cost of
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Neptune’s dominion was three hundred thousand dollars • and the expense incurred, when his oceanic majesty plays on State-occasions, is said to be many thousands of francs. With this magnificent sight, the pleasures of the day terminated, and there was a general rush for the railroad station. In the shortest possible time, the grounds that had been filled to overflowing, presented a very lonely aspect — nature reigning supreme. I dined with Mme. Santa Cruz, and, upon leaving, was presented with a picture of her husband, the Marshal, in full uni- form, a strikingly handsome and dignified man, of whose memory they are very justly proud.
May 5. — How bright and gay was the Champs Ely- sees this morning ; streams of men, women and children, and hundreds of equipages, and gay, prancing steeds, wending their way to a grand review of 70,000 troops by the Emperor! The State carriages came rolling by, to the shouts of the multitude. A few moments after witnessing, from my window, all this heaving, beaming life, in the tide that went out to the sound of martial music, I saw a spectacle of an entirely opposite char- acter — a funeral cortege, presenting all the insignia of mourning. Besides the hearse, profusely draped in black, with ponderous, high, nodding plumes, the carriages were all of the same sombre hue. Even the followers on foot bent low their heads in sym- pathetic sadness. What more desolate feeling could sweep o’er the mind, than that evoked by such a sight, contrasted, as it was, with the volatile, shouting crowd v
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that had just passed by ? Yet such extremes are every- where to be found, but especially in Paris, where gaiety assumes the most flashing tinsel, and where sorrow wears the darkest cypress !
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