A rough sketch of modern Paris

by J. G. Lemaistre

LETTER XXIII.

Concordat with the Pope ratified by the legislative body after an eloquent speech by Lucien Bonaparte.—Madame Bonaparte’s first drawing room.—Appearance of Dehayes at the opera, after a long absence.

Paris, april the 10th, 1802, (20 germinal.)

MY DEAR SIR,

On thursday last, the legislative body, after a speech from Lucien Bonaparte, brother of the consul; who, as orator of the tribunate, very eloquently defended this favourite measure of government; ratified and approved the concordat with the Pope, by a large majority. The reestablishment of religion is therefore determined. I was not present on the occasion; but persons capable of judging, assure me, that Lucien’s delivery was remarkably good; and that his speech was the finest heard in France, since the time of Mirabeau. As it will, of course, appear in the Moniteur, I shall not attempt to copy any of those imperfect statements which are, already, handed about.

Madame Bonaparte held, the same day, for the first time, a kind of court: that is to say, a card, being previously sent round by the prefect of the palace, who answers to our master of the ceremonies, saying, that madame Bonaparte would, at three o’clock, receive the wives of foreign ministers; and “des étrangers de marque,” such ladies as wished to be presented, accompanied their respective ambassadors, at the appointed time, to the palace of the Thuilleries. As Mrs. ⸺ was of the number, you may depend on the account, which I shall now send you. The ladies were not in hoops or lappets; but were, in other respects, as much dressed as they would have been at St. James’s. They were received by the wife of the préfect du palais, in the apartments appropriate to madame Bonaparte. She and the first consul, soon after appeared. A circle was then formed, and the consul walked round. In passing, he spoke to each lady with much politeness. Madame Bonaparte went through the same ceremony; and at last, seated herself, desiring her guests to follow her example. She talked again to those, who happened to be near her; and, after an interval of a few minutes, she rose, courtesied, thanked the ladies for the honour they had done her, and then retired. I understood that she behaved with great propriety. Her manners were simple, easy, and unaffected. She was polite to every one; and particularly civil to the english. Her apartments, on the ground floor, looking on the Thuilleries, are not large; but they are furnished with elegance, and considerable taste. Her footmen were splendidly dressed in green liveries, laced with gold; and they, as well as the “valets de chambre,” who waited in the antichamber, were particularly civil, respectful, and attentive. There were no foreign men present, excepting the ambassadors, and the prince of Orange; but it is understood, that she will soon have a drawing-room, for the purpose of receiving such strangers, as are desirous of being introduced.

I shall conclude this letter, with a short account of the opera, from which I am just returned. The house was uncommonly crowded, on account of the first appearance this season, of the dancer Dehayes. This favourite performer, having been absent more than a year, in consequence of a fall, which rendered him incapable, during that time, of pursuing his profession, was received with every possible honour. A ballet, called “le Retour de Zéphyr[62],” was composed on the occasion; and the light and gentle Zephyr was welcomed with loud and repeated applauses. His strength is not quite restored; but it is easy to see, that he is no mean proficient in the art of dancing. His steps are perfect, and perhaps not inferior to those of Vestris; but in point of grace, the comparison is infinitely in favour of the latter.

It is said, that Dehayes was convicted, during the time of Robespierre, of an attempt to emigrate to England. He was condemned to the guillotine; but afterwards pardoned, on condition of dancing, during the whole of one season, without fee or reward, before “le peuple souverain.” The agility, therefore, of a dancer, obtained that mercy, which was refused to the innocence of youth, to the gray hairs of age, to the purity of virtue, to the charms of beauty, and to the dignity of talent. After this example of the power it possesses, the art of dancing ought certainly to be ranked, in France, if not in other countries, among the liberal and useful sciences.

I am, &c.