A rough sketch of modern Paris

by J. G. Lemaistre

A handsome porte cochére[47] led to a well lighted and elegant stair case, by which we approached the salon; where madame ⸺, and some friends who had dined with her, were seated. As, among the very few houses at which I visit at Paris, the greater part are of “l’ancien régime,” I have become so accustomed to dark rooms, old furniture, and dismal hangings, that I was quite astonished at the splendour of the apartment, into which I was now ushered. An elegant girandole of cut glass, made with the greatest taste, and filled with innumerable wax lights, gave such a lively appearance to the room, that, for a few moments, I supposed myself in London. The chairs were made with classical propriety in antique shapes, and the colours were well assorted. The carpet (a luxury not often met with in this town) was of the finest Brussels manufactory; and the walls were ornamented with designs on the plan of “Echart.” We were received with much politeness by the lady of the house, who is a beautiful woman, and who, whatever her original situation may have been, is at present graceful in her manner, highly accomplished, and well acquainted with the literature of her own country.

Monsieur was neither very handsome, nor particularly brilliant; but he was very civil, and took no little pride in showing us the suite of rooms which adjoined to the salon, and which were all, like the latter, splendidly lighted.

The apartment next to that in which we were received, was covered with pictures representing a naval engagement; and the inscription underneath proved, that they had belonged to the unfortunate Louis XVI. A large claw table was placed in the centre of the room; and our host, though a good republican, forgot not to inform us, that it had cost him a large sum of money; having been taken from the Thuilleries, where it had long been in the use of Marie Antoinette. Next to this was the bed-room, which was particularly splendid. The canopy of India muslin, so fine that it appeared like a net, to which was added a rich embroidery of gold. The stand of this elegant couch was of mahogany, ornamented with antique figures correctly carved. The boudoir, which adjoined, almost, exceeded in luxury that of madame ⸺, already described in a former letter. The sofa was of crimson velvet, edged with silver; and the sides and top of this little bijou were entirely covered with the finest mirrors. Beyond the boudoir was another bed-room, furnished in a different manner, but with equal taste and equal extravagance. The party consisted of five or six ladies, who were, perhaps, more expensively, than correctly dressed, of two of the ministers, and of some foreigners of distinction. A musician of eminence performed on the harpsichord; and accompanied madame ⸺ and one of her friends, who both sung very prettily.

The evening would have been pleasant, had there not been a degree of form, which to me was not a little annoying. About twelve o’clock supper was announced; which was served on the ground floor, in a small salle à manger, which was also elegantly furnished. The supper was good, and the servants who waited were attentive.

I saw, this evening, for the first time, general Berthier. He is a little man, plainly dressed, with cropped hair. His countenance is expressive, when he speaks; but his figure is diminutive, and his appearance by no means military. He is extremely polite, gentlemanly, and affable. I am told, he is by birth “gentil homme;” and by his manner it is easy to see, that he must have passed the early part of his life in good company.

After giving you this account of a party at one of the new houses, you will, perhaps, not be displeased, if I conclude my letter with a short description of a ball given by a person, formerly of very high rank, and still of considerable fortune.

The antichamber, through which it is always necessary to pass at a french assembly, is rather a disgusting sight. The servants, differently occupied, some playing cards, some sleeping, and others criticising the dress of those who pass by them, do not attempt to rise, and even those of the house seldom give themselves the trouble of moving, at the arrival of their master’s guests. If the valet de chambre is near, the company are announced; if otherwise, they are allowed to find their way to the apartment of those whom they are visiting. At the ball, of which I am now speaking, in addition to the antichamber devoted to the use I have mentioned, the second drawing room was filled with filles de chambre, milliners, and mantuamakers, whom the good nature of our hostess permitted to sit there, that they might view the dancing, and learn the fashions. I observed, that several of these soubrettes did not direct their attention solely to the female part of the company.

After passing through these rooms, we found ourselves at last in the salon, which was extremely well lighted with patent lamps. These are much used at Paris, and almost generally substituted for wax. The oil used here is less offensive than that which is bought in London; and, when a sufficient number of reflectors are placed about a room (which is not very commonly the case) it becomes very brilliant; but the heat is always oppressive.

The company assembled on this occasion were all of the old noblesse; and no nouveau riche, no person connected with the government, and very few foreigners, were permitted to contaminate this quintessence of “bonne compagnie.” I perceived many of those faces which I had remembered in London among the emigrés of distinction; and the lady of the house did not forget to enumerate the families of dukes, comtes, marquis, marechals, &c. which formed her society. It is but justice to this class of company, to observe, that the ladies (whether from a natural sense of propriety, from habits contracted during their residence in foreign countries, or from the wish of distinguishing themselves from their plebeian fellow citizens, I shall not pretend to inquire) are infinitely more correct in their dress, than those of any other set at Paris. I saw here several elegant women, who were tasteful, without being indecent; and though, perhaps, a hundred persons were assembled (which is considered a very large party in this town) there was only one female present, of whom it could be said, that she was too liberal in the display of her charms; and she was the subject of general conversation, and general censure.

The ball began with two cotillons, or french country dances, which were very gracefully performed by eight gentlemen and ladies, who vied with each other in skill and activity. The rest of the company were seated on benches, which were placed in gradations against the wall. A walse was then played; about fifteen couple stood up; and the gentlemen, placing their arms round the waists of their partners, moved round the room in a circle, while the young men not so employed formed a group, and filled the centre. The air appropriate to this dance is extremely pretty, and the figures of the ladies are seen to great advantage. Yet, notwithstanding the quiet, respectful manner of the parisians, I must still continue of the opinion of Werter; that no modest woman ought to dance the walse, unless her partner be either her husband or her brother.