I am once more in Albemarle Street, and after my long absence I yesterday paid no fewer than twenty-two visits; dined at a Club dinner;[50] went to a ball at the house of the above-mentioned fair Napoleonist, and closed the day with a ‘soirée’ at Mrs. Hope’s, a very fashionable and pretty woman, wife of the author of Anastasius.
To-day I visited ‘in another quarter’ two Chinese ladies who also receive company here, and in a very original style too,—only one must pay one’s ‘entrée.’ Even from the very staircase everything is arranged as if in China itself; and when you enter, and see the ladies reclining, with outstretched feet five inches in length, under an illumination of paper lanterns, you may almost fancy yourself in Canton. They claim to be of high descent,—to which their feet bear witness; for the lower classes, of course, have not this distinguishing mark. The small-footed women have so little centripedal power, that they can hardly totter from one ottoman to another without a stick.
I am a passionate admirer of small feet in women; but these are too small, and horrible to behold naked: the toes, doubled under from infancy, are literally grown into the sole. This practice is nearly as absurd as the stays of our ladies, though perhaps not quite so injurious to the health.
I bought a new pair of shoes of these princesses, which I made them try on before my eyes. I send them to you, together with several other Chinesiana, silk hangings, pictures, &c.; among others, portraits of the Emperor and Empress. The good creatures seem to me, spite of their quality, to have brought a complete warehouse with them, for the moment a thing is sold it is replaced by another. Though they have been for some time in England, they have not learned a single word of English. Their own language appeared to me very heavy and dragging; and their faces were, to a European taste, more than ugly.
February 18th.
The Italian Opera has commenced,—the only theatre ‘du bel air,’ except the French Play. As people cannot appear there but ‘en toilette,’ even in the pit, the effect is very brilliant. The opera however was bad, orchestra as well as singers, and the ballet likewise. The lighting of the theatre is better adapted for being seen than for seeing: in front of every box hangs a chandelier, which dazzles one very offensively, and throws the actors into the shade. The opera lasts till one o’clock, so that you have ample time to visit it without giving up other engagements. The ‘trouble’ has now begun in good earnest; one seldom gets home before three or four o’clock in the morning: and a man who chooses to be very ‘répandu’—which the exclusives indeed do not, but which is amusing to a foreigner—may very well accept a dozen invitations for every evening.
The great world is consequently not alive before two o’clock in the afternoon. The Park hours are from four till six, when the ladies drive about by thousands in their elegant equipages and morning dresses, and the gentlemen on their beautiful horses ‘voltigent’ about from flower to flower, displaying all the grace Heaven has bestowed upon them. Almost all Englishmen, however, look well on horseback, and ride better and more naturally than our riding-masters, who certainly understand admirably, when they are on a horse trained to every sort of pace and speed, how to sit like a clothes-peg on a linen-line.
The green turf of the Park swarms with riders, who can ride faster there than in the ‘corso.’ Among them are many ladies, who manage their horses as skilfully and steadily as the men.
But Miss Sally is now led out before my door, and snorts impatiently on the macadamized pavement. My letter is long enough:—a thousand greetings to all who are good enough to remember me, and the most affectionate farewell to you!
Your friend L——.