"It seems that my lace shocks you, although I have painted none for fifteen years. I vastly prefer scarfs, which you, sir, would do well yourself to employ. Scarfs, you may believe me, are a boon to painters, and had you used them you would have acquired good taste in draping, in which you are deficient. As for those stuffs, those eloquent cushions, those velvets, to be seen in my shop, it is my opinion that one should pay as much attention as possible to all such accessories. On this point I have Raphael as an authority, who never neglected anything of this kind, who wished everything to be explicit, to be rendered minutely—that is the language of art—even to the smallest flowers in the grass. I can, furthermore, quote the example of ancient sculpture, in which not the most trifling accessories are found neglected: the draped scarfs which lie so snugly upon nude figures, and of which mere fragments are bought by real fanciers to-day, the ornamentation on breastplates, the buskins—all that is carried out with perfect finish.
"And now, sir, allow me to remark that the word shop, which term you apply to my studio, is scarcely worthy of an artist. I show my pictures without having money asked at the door. I have even, to avoid that practise" [then in vogue among the painters of London], "set aside one day each week for persons of good standing and such persons as these may see fit to present to me. I may, therefore, beg you to observe that the word shop is improper, and that severity never excuses a man from being polite.
"I have the honour to be, etc."
This letter, which I read to some friends, remained no secret to London society, and the laugh was not on the side of M. ——, who, all enmity aside, did not know how to do drapings.
I met a number of compatriots in England whom I had known for years. I had the felicity of meeting the Count d'Artois once more, at a party given by Lady Percival, who received a number of exiles. He had grown stouter, and I really thought him very handsome. A few days later he honoured me by coming to see my studio. I was out, and I only returned just as he was going away. But he was good enough to come back and compliment me upon my portrait of the Prince of Wales, with which he seemed highly pleased. The Count d'Artois did not go out much into society. Having but a modest income, he yet saved money, with which he helped the poorest of the French. His goodness of heart incited him to sacrifice all his pleasures for charitable purposes.
MADAME VIGÉE LEBRUN.
This Prince's son, the Duke de Berri, often came to see me of a morning. He sometimes appeared with small pictures under his arm, which he had bought at a very low price. What proves how good a judge of painting he was is that these pictures were splendid Wouvermans. But it needed a very fine feeling to detect their merit under the grime that covered them. The Duke de Berri also had a passion for music.
I was at the play in London when the murder of the Duke d'Enghien was announced. Hardly had the news spread through the theatre, when all the women in the boxes turned their backs to the stage, and the piece would not have gone on if somebody had not come in to state the report a false one. We then all resumed our seats, and the play continued, but as we went out it was, alas! all confirmed. We even learned some particulars of this atrocious crime, which will always leave a terrible blood-stain on Napoleon's career.