8th.—I dined with the Dowager-Duchess of Orleans. There were several ladies present, and Prince Hohenlohe and Prince Castelcicala also dined there. The dinner was very good, chiefly consisting of fish, and when we went into the drawing-room the Duchess and two other ladies worked. A card-party was formed, and a backgammon-table set out. They were cheerful and pleasant, and the Duchess extremely affable.
9th.—In the evening I went with M. and Madame de Béthisy to the Prince de Condé’s, who inhabits a pavilion of the Hôtel de Bourbon, which, notwithstanding the bad weather, appeared to be very beautifully situated in the midst of a garden. The good old Prince is wheeled about in his arm-chair, and his memory often fails him, but he received us with great politeness. His premier gentilhomme de la chambre, Count Banqui du Cayla, introduced me; and Madame de Rully, the natural daughter of the Duke de Bourbon, assisted in doing the honours. She is mild and pleasing. Amongst other ladies who came in, Madame de Béthisy pointed out one who, she said, was a daughter of the grandfather of the present Duke of Orleans.
10th.—Went to the Duchess of Orleans, and to a ball at Mrs. Hammond’s.[[67]] Mr. H. is residing here as commissary for settling commercial and boundary matters, &c. He inhabits the house which was formerly Joseph Bonaparte’s, and, what is singular enough, the same Joseph Bonaparte has just purchased in America the house in which Mr. Hammond was married.
11th.—Dined at Prince de Condé’s. M. and Madame de Béthisy and several officers were of the party. M. and Madame de Rully live with the Prince. The latter was very cheerful and kind, and after dinner sent for some little portraits to show me. One of them was of a natural sister of his own, excessively pretty, with a fly cap and capuchin. Another was a little figure of Madame de Montespan as a Magdalen in the desert. Madame de Rully showed me the billiard-room, where I saw the busts of the great Condé and of Turenne on the chimney-piece. I was pleased to observe the respect the Prince paid to the memory of Turenne, whom he seemed desirous to praise equally with his own great ancestor. He has starts of recollection, and still retains the unassuming, steady character which distinguished him at the head of his army. At eight I went to the Duke de Sérent’s, where I heard much of the robberies committed by the Bonaparte family; including Cardinal Fesch, who pillaged the Villa Mattei at Rome to adorn his palace in Paris, and who has not yet paid the transport of his chairs and sofas from Rome, whither he had sent them to be gilt.
12th.—While I was at the Prince of Condé’s to-day, Marshal Marmont came in—a vulgar-looking man, without any military grace. The Prince, when he found out who it was, spoke civilly to him. The King went to Fontainebleau to meet the bride, and to give an opportunity for preparations at the Tuileries. Talleyrand sat beside him, and the Duke de la Châtre, premier gentilhomme de la chambre, with the captain of the Gardes du Corps, on the opposite seat. There was much crying “Vive le Roi!”
13th.—I was at a party at Sir Charles Stuart’s, chiefly English. All the rooms were thrown open, and some of the guests walked in the garden. The Duke of Wellington came in a cabriolet.
14th.—Everybody is most anxious to get tickets for the forthcoming fêtes, and ladies are to have only one each, choosing which they please. The King has given orders that all whose names are sent in by Sir Charles Stuart are to be accommodated. I found, too, when I returned home, one for the church, and one “pour le Jeu du Roi” on Monday.
15th.—I went to see the cabinet of cameos, intaglios, and medals at the King’s Library. In the first effervescence of the Revolution orders were issued for dissolving them all; but Barthélémi, the author of “Anacharsis,” found means to delay the execution of the warrant, and they were fortunately forgotten. I saw the bracelets of Diane de Poictiers, Duchess of Valentinois, the Twelve Cæsars worn as coat-buttons by Henri Quatre, an intaglio portrait of the Dauphin worn as a ring by Louis XVI., the bracelets of Madame de Pompadour, cameos of Louis XV. and Henri IV. set in emeralds, the beautiful intaglio of Michael Angelo worn by Louis XIV., and the fine one on an amethyst, by Glycon, of Achilles playing on the harp. Henri IV. seems to have had a decided taste for cameos. His town sword is adorned with them, and his fighting sword has a falcon on it.
16th.—I went out about ten to see the processions, as the Fête-Dieu is celebrated to-day. I believe this fête has been solemnised only once—the year before last—these twenty-five years. The procession of St. Sulpice was the most numerous, and many ladies walked in it. That of the parish of St. Thomas d’Aquin stopped at the gate of the Duchess d’Orleans, entered the court in which an altar had been erected, and gave the benediction to the Duchess, her ladies, and household. The people seemed pleased with the revival of these religious ceremonies. A large canopy for one of the processions was given by the Duchess de Bourbon, who has written a book on Theology. The National Guards, who escorted the processions, and who do duty in Paris on almost all occasions, are said to be very loyal. They are all “bourgeois,” but are well dressed and at their own expense, and have a soldier-like appearance. They had nosegays on their bouquets, and nearly everybody who attended the processions, priests included, had flowers, and the streets were hung with carpeting and tapestry. I was delighted to see the venerable priests, who had survived so many horrors, once more peaceably chanting through the streets. How innocent their errors in comparison with the crimes of their persecutors!
About three we went with Madame and Mademoiselle de Chastellux and their friend Madame de Fontanes[[68]] to the apartments of Madame Montgolfier, widow of the inventor of balloons, to see the arrival of the King with the Duchess de Berri. His Majesty arrived a little after four in an open carriage. The Duchess d’Angoulême and the Duke and Duchess de Berri were with him. The bride was dressed in white and silver, with feathers, and had a small white parasol. The Duchess d’Angoulême was in blue, and looked remarkably well. The bride is very fair,[[69]] but the people said she was too thin. Cries of “Vive le Roi!” accompanied them. The military bore themselves particularly well, and the whole scene was very agreeable. The windows at which we were placed looked on the Boulevards, and the cheerfulness of the place, with its decorations of hangings, flowers, leaves, &c. &c., had a delightful effect.