Having in my last letter attempted to describe the objects which particularly attracted my notice on my first arrival, I shall in this endeavour to satisfy the curiosity which you will naturally feel, relative to the splendid fête celebrated yesterday in honour of the peace with England, and of the anniversary of the consular government.
The rejoicings may be said to have begun on the preceding evening; as the cannon were fired, and the theatres thrown open to the public, with the single exception of the italian opera, where was also represented a musical piece, the words of which were in honour of the occasion. I wished very much to have been present at one of the performances given gratis to the people; but I was dissuaded from going there, by the advice of some french friends, who assured me, that the attempt would be attended with considerable danger. I therefore contented myself with visiting the only spectacle[6] where money was received.
The company of italian actors usually occupies the Théâtre Favart, but at present performs in a very beautiful little play-house belonging to “la Société olympique,” situate in the street which was formerly known as “la rue de Chante Reine;” but which, in honour of Bonaparte, (who resided there while a private man) is now called “la rue de la Victoire.”
The entrance to this theatre is strikingly elegant and novel, consisting of a circular piazza, in the middle of which is a grass plot. The building is well proportioned; and the chandelier, by which it is brilliantly lighted, extremely beautiful. The music seemed good; but the female performers relied entirely on the charms of their voice; for I never remember to have seen, on any other stage, such an assemblage of ugly women as this presented. The audience consisted of the best company at Paris; and I had the pleasure of seeing there madame Bonaparte, who sat in the stage box, accompanied by mademoiselle Beauharnois, her daughter, and by madame le Clerc, the consul’s sister. Bonaparte was also said to be present, but being in a loge grillé, could not be perceived.
Madame, as far as I can judge from the distance at which I saw her, has a mild, amiable countenance, which is universally allowed to be the just picture of her disposition. Her person is elegant, and her appearance altogether much like that of an english woman of fashion.
Mademoiselle Beauharnois[7] is a fair girl of sixteen or seventeen, and, without being remarkably beautiful, is extremely interesting. Her manners are modest; and her dress simple, and in good taste. Madame le Clerc[8] is a very pretty little woman, and much admired at Paris.
Excuse this digression, into which I was led by naming the preparatory rejoicings of the preceding evening. I proceed to the fête itself. The 18th of brumaire, that long expected day, began in clouds of rain. The Parisians were au désespoir. Every body predicted, that the vast preparations, which had been made for this jubilee, would be thrown away; that the illumination would fail; in short, that the whole would be an “affaire manquée[9].”
Those who ventured into the streets, notwithstanding the torrents of rain, heard, on every side, “quel mauvais temps! quel malheur! vraiment c’est terrible—c’est affreux. La fête auroit été si belle, si ce diable de pluie n’avait pas tombé[10].”
The morning passed away without the faintest hopes of better weather, and in mutual condolences on the loss of the beau spectacle, which had been promised for this day. The rejoicings were to begin at four o’clock. About three the weather suddenly changed, the clouds dispersed, the sky became serene. It happened that this took place precisely at the moment, when the first consul appeared at the window of the palace, and every body agreed, that the favourable change was solely produced par la bonne fortune de Bonaparte[11].