“Le Brun—de la beauté le peintre et le modèle,
Moderne Rosalba, mais plus brillante qu’elle,
Joint la voix de Favart au sourire de Vénus—”
the whole assembly rose, not even, excepting the Duchesse de Chartres and the King of Sweden, and the fair artist was stunned with a burst of enthusiastic applause.
Her admission into the Academy, which had been hitherto prevented by personal jealousies and other hinderances, now took place, on the presentation of her own portrait, in 1783. This picture she had painted after the famous one by Rubens—“Le chapeau de paille”—which she had seen the year before when on a visit to Belgium. Her work was so admirable that Vernet, her ever faithful friend, saw at once that he could by its means procure the immediate enrollment of her name among the members of the Academy.
In the “poor dwelling” to which M. Le Brun’s extravagance consigned her, she managed to hold every week an evening reception, notwithstanding the limited accommodations. Her house became the rendezvous for all the celebrities of Paris, and for much of its beauty and high rank. Curious stories were afloat in regard to her expenditures in entertaining the dignified personages who visited her. It was said that her table was covered with gold plate; that her apartments were warmed with aloes-wood, and even that she kindled her fire with bank-notes. The absurdity of such rumors may well lead one to doubt others in the chroniques scandaleuses of the day, more nearly affecting her reputation.
It is certain, however, that she received guests of the highest distinction, and that her receptions were crowded to excess. The want of chairs often compelled her visitors to seat themselves on the ground. Madame Le Brun herself describes, with evident pleasure in the recollection, the embarrassment of the fat old Duc de Noailles, who one evening had to stand a long time, on account of the scarcity of seats.
Music was generally a part of the entertainment, and the fair hostess, though she had paid little attention to the superior cultivation of that art, sang most charmingly. Grétry, Sachini, and Martini here rehearsed scenes from the new operas before their representation; Garat, Azevedo, Richer, and Madame Le Brun supplied the vocal music, while the instrumental would be furnished by Viotti, Jarnowich, Maestrino, Cramer, Hülmandel, and Prince Henry of Prussia, brother to Frederick William III. He was said to be a celebrated amateur.
The petits soupers which usually terminated these delightful soirées, and to which only a few favored guests were invited, became renowned throughout France. They were said to be brilliant in Attic elegance and Parisian luxury. The popular Delille, the piquant author Le Brun, who first flattered the royal family and then became the Pindar of the Revolution; the luxurious Boufflers, the Vicomte de Segur, were among the frequenters of this sanctuary of the muses and the graces. The suppers, indeed, had a European celebrity.
One day the brother of Madame Le Brun read aloud from the travels of Anacharsis a description of an ancient Grecian banquet. The fancy came into the lady’s head of arranging one of her suppers in imitation of the feasts of the luxurious Aspasia.
The cook was immediately furnished with receipts for Greek sauces; the “little” supper-room was changed into a classic banqueting-hall, and a table made according to the antique fashion was set in the middle of the room, surrounded with Grecian draperied couches. A request was sent to the Comte de Pezay, who lived in the same building, for an antique mantle of regal purple, while the Marquis de Cubières was levied on for a golden lyre, on which he was skilled in playing.
Le Brun—not the husband, but the poet—was arrayed by the fair hands of the artist—whose taste in picturesque costume none could question—with the purple robe and a classic wig, adorned with a laurel wreath. He was thus fitted to bear his part as Pindar or Anacreon! Some young ladies, noted for their beauty, were dressed in Greek tunics, with classic coiffures, to figure as Athenian maidens; while the gentlemen guests underwent a corresponding transformation.