“Towards the end of 1823 there was a talk of Prince Esterhazy as ambassador at Paris. The Duke de Perigord recalled me to the memory of his excellency Prince Esterhazy, who received me with kindness, and remembered with a lively pleasure the dinners of the Prince Regent. He engaged me in the event of his being nominated to the Parisian embassy, and retained me long enough that day to talk of the gastronomy, of which he spoke in a truly pertinent manner, and with much talent. The prince set out for London. I remained at Paris sixteen months in the expectation of the new place, and meanwhile refused fine offers; one of the Russian ambassador’s at Naples, the other of Lord Granville, who was leaving the Hague. I made it a point to be scrupulously faithful to the engagement which I had entered into with the prince.
“I forgot to say that, at the end of six months, Rothschild’s place was offered me. At first I refused, but, Prince Esterhazy not coming to Paris, one of my kind protectors, the Prince Louis de Rohan, presented me to Madame Rothschild. I accepted the place. The Duke de Perigord wished at this time that I should present my “Culinary Architecture,” magnificently bound by Thouvenin, to the Tuileries. The result was as I had foreseen—I only received cold compliments. The reward of the public was somewhat different. My “Projets d’Architecture,” though containing only rough sketches, were examined and approved. At the moment I write, 1833, here are nearly five years that I am with the Rothschilds. I have since refused the service of the Spanish embassy and of Prince Esterhazy, who came to Paris with the kindly thought of taking me back to England. M. Esterhazy was the intimate friend of George IV.; he dined weekly with his majesty. It was difficult for these two eminent gourmets, for these two personages, full of taste, to pass some hours together without talking of cookery. One day his Majesty asked the Prince where I was. ‘At Rothschild’s,’ said Esterhazy, ‘and in that house is the very best table in Paris.’ ‘I believe it,’ said George IV., ‘since Carème has the management of it.’ These words were repeated to me by a person of eminent rank who was present. George IV. was so perfect a connoisseur in all that related to the table, that I had a right to feel flattered by his approval. These words of kindliness were in conformity with everything which the Regent had the goodness to say to me ten years before—to every communication he caused to be made to me in the interval. Magnificent conditions were now proposed to me on the part of George IV.; my salary was to be doubled, and that salary was to be converted into a pension for life at the end of a few years. But, in the interval between the fashionable seasons, London and the country-houses of the three kingdoms were insupportable to me. Notwithstanding the kindness and friendship of this royal prince, I experienced while in his service so profound a melancholy and ennui, that I was forced to return to Paris to resume the composition of my works. It is not, therefore, to be wondered that I refused with regret, though with gratitude, offers of recall to the service of George IV. In the first place, my situation at Rothschild’s suited me perfectly; and, in the second place, I was somewhat wearied with service. I felt the first attack of the malady which gnaws at my vitals. I now only think of profiting of the days which Heaven may yet spare to me to finish the books whose germs are in my mind. These books have been the meditation of my entire life. What torments, what preoccupations, what cares, do they not represent, and how I have tormented body and mind by my long vigils. At break of day I was at the fish-market, seeking the elements of my labours. Some hours after, I was in the thick of business, with cap and apron on; and I was again at work, busy as a bee, some hours before dinner. It was in the night, after a short sleep, that I lately dictated to my daughter my most recent chapters. The certainty now remains to me of leaving something useful behind me. But I shall not leave all that I had conceived touching our art, in the interest of kindly civil men and good practicians.
“I now edited my ‘Maître-d’Hôtel;’ I published a new edition of the ‘Pâtissier Royale,’ and the third of the ‘Pâtissier Pittoresque;’ the copyright I kept in my own hands.
“My works, forming already six volumes, had created for me at last (exclusive of places whose emoluments I always sacrificed to my studies!) the annual income necessary to a tranquil and comfortable existence. I made that year an income of more than 20,000 francs (800l.). M. de Rothschild, valuing my services, raised, of his own accord, my wages. He had just about this time purchased of the Duke of Otranto the handsome estate of Ferrières. The baron was good enough to say that the resources of Ferrières would render my service more easy; he added, with kindness, ‘This beautiful château will, a dozen years hence, offer you a retreat.’ I eagerly thanked him, but said that I did not think my health would permit me to accept his offers, that I was worn out. ‘My wish,’ said I, ‘M. le Baron, is not to finish my days in a château, but in an humble lodging in Paris.’ I further mentioned that my books brought me in an income which exceeded my wants. I shall increase this income, for I have not finished my labours; I have yet to publish a book on the actual state of my profession.’ ‘But what is the amount of that income?’ kindly asked M. de Rothschild and his family. A lively surprise was the result of my answer. What I said appeared a dream. I added that this income was not of the past year only, but dated back for several years.
“It was some months after this that I was attacked with the malady which torments me, and which will close, perhaps, the future on me. I am still under the hands of the doctors, but do not mend. One of my old friends, M. Magonty, replaces me in my post.
“I will not close this chapter without saying that I obtained, while in the house of Madame Rothschild, the inestimable good-will of a man of genius, of the Maestro Rossini; he is a connoisseur, as is well known; he always said that he only dined well, according to his taste, at the house of Madame Rothschild. He asked me one day if my labours were not the result of very attentive meditation? I answered affirmatively, ‘All that I do is written; I slightly alter in execution.’ I remember that one day there was some talk of Rossini going to the United States; he was good enough to say, ‘I’ll start at once if Carème will but accompany me.’”
I shall conclude with a few detached passages, aphorisms, and thoughts, from the same great authority.
Fête given at the Elysée Impérial for the Marriage of Prince Jerome and the Princess of Wurtemburg.
“At this, a grand ball, Robert was comptroller, and the famous Laguipierre chef des cuisines. Riquette[38] and I were charged with such portion of the supper as was served cold. We thus, as nearly as I can remember, filled the tables: twenty-four large joints, fourteen stands bearing hams, six galantines, and two wild boars’ heads, six loins of veal à la gelée, seventy-six entrées, six of which were sides and fillets of beef à la gelée, six noix de veau, six of dressed calves’ brains bordered with shapes of jelly, six of pain de foie gras, six of poulets à la reine en galantine, six d’aspics garnished with cocks’ combs and kidneys, six of salmis of red partridge lukewarm, six of fricasées of poulet à la reine, six of mayonnaises de volaille, six of slices of salmon au beurre de Montpelier, six of salads of fillets of soles, six of galantines of eels au beurre de Montpelier. Our borders were thus composed: for the slices of salmon, beurre rose; for the eels, beurre à la ravigotte vert-tendre; for the salads of filets de sole, borders of eggs; for the mayonnaises de volaille, the same; for the game and fowls, borders of truffles, mushrooms, and morels.”
New Invention of Carème.