An Englishman in Paris: Notes and Recollections

by Albert D. Vandam

"'By giving piano-lessons, like many a poor artist has done before you.'

"I followed his advice, and am none the worse for the few years of hardships. The contrast between my own poverty and my wealthy surroundings was sufficiently curious during that time, and never more so than on the night when my name really became known to the general public. I am alluding to the first performance of 'Le Duc de Guise,' which, as you may remember, was given in aid of the distressed Poles, and sung throughout by amateurs. The receipts amounted to thirty thousand francs, and the ladies of the chorus had something between ten and twelve millions of francs of diamonds in their hair and round their throats. All my earthly possessions in money consisted of six francs thirty-five centimes."

I was not at the Théâtre de la Renaissance that night, but two or three years previously I had heard the first opera Flotow ever wrote, at the Hôtel Castellane. I never heard "Rob Roy" since; and, curiously enough, many years afterwards I inquired of Lord Granville, who sat next to me on that evening in 1838, whether he had. He shook his head negatively. "It is a great pity," he said, "for the music is very beautiful." And I believe that Lord Granville is a very good judge.

The Hôtel Castellane, or "La Maison du Mouleur," as it was called by the general public on account of the great number of scantily attired mythological deities with which its façade was decorated, was one of the few houses where, during the reign of Louis-Philippe, the discussion of political and dynastic differences was absolutely left in abeyance. The scent of party strife—I had almost said miasma—hung over all the other salons, notably those of the Princesse de Lieven, Madame Thiers, and Madame de Girardin, and even those of Madame Le Hon and Victor Hugo were not free from it. Men like myself, and especially young men, who instinctively guessed the hollowness of all this—who, moreover, had not the genius to become political leaders and not sufficient enthusiasm to become followers—avoided them; consequently their description will find little or no place in these notes. The little I saw of Princesse de Lieven at the Tuileries and elsewhere produced no wish to see more. Thiers was more interesting from a social and artistic point of view, but it was only on very rare occasions that he consented to doff his political armour, albeit that he did not wear the latter with unchanging dignity. Madame Thiers was an uninteresting woman, and only the "feeder" to her husband, to use a theatrical phrase. Madame Le Hon was exceedingly beautiful, exceedingly selfish, and, if anything, too amiable. The absence of all serious mental qualities was cleverly disguised by the mask of a grande dame; but I doubt whether it was anything else but a mask. Madame Delphine de Girardin, on the other hand, was endowed with uncommon literary, poetical, and intellectual gifts; but I have always considered it doubtful whether even the Nine Muses, rolled into one, would be bearable for any length of time. As for Victor Hugo, no man not blessed with an extraordinary bump of veneration would have gone more than once to his soirées. The permanent entertainment there consisted of a modern version of the "perpetual adoration," and of nothing else, because, to judge by my few experiences, his guests were never offered anything to eat or to drink. As a set-off, the furniture and appointments of his apartments were more artistic than those of most of his contemporaries; but Becky Sharp has left it on record that "mouton aux navets," dished up in priceless china and crested silver, is after all but "mouton aux navets," and at Hugo's even that homely fare was wanting.

Among the few really good salons were those of the ambassadors of the Two Sicilies, of England, and of Austria. The former two were in the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, the latter in the Faubourg Saint-Germain. The soirées of the Duc de Serra-Cabriola were very animated; there was a great deal of dancing. I cannot say the same of those of Lord and Lady Granville, albeit that both the host and hostess did the honours with charming and truly patrician grace and hospitality. But the English guests would not throw off their habitual reserve, and the French in the end imitated the manner of the latter, in deference, probably, to Lord and Lady Granville, who were not at all pleased at this sincerest form of French flattery of their countrymen.

There was no such restraint at Count Apponyi's, in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, the only house where the old French noblesse mustered in force. The latter virtually felt themselves on their own ground, for the host was known to have not much sympathy with parvenus, even titled ones, though the titles had been gained on the battle-field. Had he not during the preceding reign ruthlessly stripped Soult and Marmont, and half a dozen other dukes of the first empire, by giving instructions to his servants to announce them by their family names? Consequently, flirtation à la Marivaux, courtly galanterie à la Louis XV., sprightly and witty conversation, "minuetting" à la Watteau, was the order of the day as well as of the night there, for the déjeûner dansant was a frequent feature of the entertainment. No one was afraid of being mistaken for a financier anobli; the only one admitted on a footing of intimacy bore the simple name of Hope.

Nevertheless, it must not be thought that the entertainments, even at the three embassies, partook of anything like the splendour so noticeable during the second empire. The refreshments elsewhere partook of a simple character; ices and cake, and lukewarm but by no means strong tea, formed the staple of them. Of course there were exceptions, such as, for instance, at the above-named houses, and at Mrs. Tudor's, Mrs. Locke's, and at Countess Lamoyloff's; but the era of flowing rivers of champagne, snacks that were like banquets, and banquets that were not unlike orgies, had not as yet dawned. And, worse than all, in a great many salons the era of mahogany and Utrecht velvet was in full swing, while the era of white-and-gold walls, which were frequently neither white nor gold, was dying a very lingering death.

The Hôtel Castellane was a welcome exception to this, and politics were rigorously tabooed, the reading of long-winded poems was interdicted. Politicians were simply reminded that the adjacent Élysée-Bourbon, or even the Hôtel Pontalba, might still contain sufficiently lively ghosts to discuss such all-important matters with them;[12] poets who fancied they had something to say worth hearing, were invited to have it said for them from behind the footlights by rival companies of amateurs, each of which in many respects need not have feared comparison with the professional one of the Comédie-Française. Amateur theatricals were, therefore, the principal feature of the entertainments at the Hôtel Castellane; but there were "off nights" to the full as brilliant as the others. There was neither acting nor dancing on such occasions, the latter amusement being rarely indulged in, except at the grand balls which often followed one another in rapid succession.

I have said rival companies, but only the two permanent ones came under that denomination; the others were what we should term "scratch companies," got together for one or two performances of a special work, generally a musical one, as in the case of Flotow's "Rob Roy" and "Alice." They vied in talent with the regular troupes presided over respectively by Madame Sophie Gay, the mother of Madame Émile de Girardin, and the Duchesse d'Abrantès. Each confined itself to the interpretation of the works of its manageress, who on such evening did the honours, or of those whom the manageress favoured with her protection. The heavens might fall rather than that an actor or actress of Madame Gay's company should act with Madame d'Abrantès, and vice versâ. Seeing that neither manageress had introduced the system of "under-studies," disappointments were frequent, for unless a member of the Comédie-Française could be found to take up the part at a moment's notice, the performance had necessarily to be postponed, the amateurs refusing to act with any but the best. Such pretensions may at the first blush seem exaggerated; they were justified in this instance, the amateurs being acknowledged to be the equals of the professionals by every unbiassed critic. In fact, several ladies among the amateurs "took eventually to the stage," notably Mdlles. Davenay and Mdlle. de Lagrange. The latter became a very bright star in the operatic firmament, though she was hidden in the musical world at large by her permanent stay in Russia. St. Petersburg has ever been a formidable competitor of Paris for securing the best histrionic and lyrical talent. Madame Arnould-Plessy, Bressant, Dupuis, and later on M. Worms, deserted their native scenes for the more remunerative, though perhaps really less artistic, triumphs of the theatre Saint-Michel; and when they returned, the delicate bloom that had made their art so delightful was virtually gone. "C'était de l'art Français à la sauce Tartare," said some one who was no mean judge.

The Comte Jules de Castellane, though fully equal, and in many respects superior, in birth to those who professed to sneer at the younger branch of the Bourbons, declined to be guided by these opponents of the new dynasty in their social crusade against the adherents to the latter; consequently the company was perhaps not always so select as it might have been, and many amusing incidents and piquantes adventures were the result. He put a stop to these, however, when he discovered that his hospitality was being abused, and that invitations given to strangers, at the request of some of his familiars, had been paid for in kind, if not in coin.