June 20th.—Before breakfast we went to see the girls and boys take their première communion at Notre Dame. The church was so full we could hardly get near to see them.[27] The first set of young ladies that came in were dressed in white muslin frocks trimmed with lace and satin, white sashes, gloves, shoes, and ridicules, lace and white satin caps, and lace or muslin veils; the next set were dressed in the same way with pink sashes; the third set blue; the fourth set green; and the two next sets white. After that came a school of girls dressed in buff cotton frocks and common muslin veils, who seemed to be poor girls: several nuns sat with them. Another set had on thick white frocks. All the girls sat in a seat by themselves. The boys had bows of white ribbon on their arms. Madame Crosnier's school was very smart with white sashes like the others; those of her girls who did not take their communion were dressed in neat white frocks, scarlet sashes, and Leghorn bonnets. Madame Crosnier and her teachers were very nicely dressed. The girls had every advantage that dress could give them; but we could not help remarking how very different a set of English girls would look to those with their dingy complexions. They had candles in their hands, which they lighted and blew out several times during mass. Some of the candles were very much ornamented with gold paper, etc.; one had a little gilt basket filled with flowers round it, and others lyres on them. I thought there was a great chance of the girls setting fire to each other as they sat close together. While we were in the church there were two women with a little child beside us, which squalled and fretted the whole time. It first would have one thing, and then another. The women managed it excessively stupidly; they first gave it a cake, then snatched it away from it, then whipped it, then kissed it; and they looked at each other as much as to say it is impossible to make it be quiet. The French children are little petted, disagreeable, spoiled things; they say that it hurts their health to find fault with them.[28] They are very dirty, and their heads are covered with a cap of dirt which they call the Écaille du bon Dieu, and it is reckoned a kind of sacrilege to take it off. Even the highest ranks of people do not comb their children's hair till they are two years old, that they may be covered with this cap of dirt, which, they say, prevents them having sore eyes and makes them cut their teeth easily. Another prejudice that they have is that nursing and tossing the children about makes them mad; the doctors say that it is only the dull air of England that requires it:[29] some of them say that it is that which causes so many mad people in England. The consequence is that the French babies are dull, heavy, and stupid. We were obliged to leave the church to go to breakfast, so we missed seeing the girls take the sacrament, which they take on their tongues and eat whole without breaking it. After they had done we saw them go home; Madame Crosnier's school went in a coach. In the evening we went again to Notre Dame, where one of the priests preached a sermon to the boys and girls that had taken the sacrament, and told them to prepare for being confirmed the next morning. After the sermon was finished they walked in procession round the inside of the church, the girls first and the boys after, with lighted candles in their hands. Some of the candles were so much broken that they could hardly hold them upright. One or two of the girls did not look more than six or seven years old: we supposed that they had not been taking the communion, but were only walking in the procession. It was altogether a pretty sight. After they had walked round the church they all went home. When they receive their première communion it is customary to give the priest something: this time they gave a clock.
TREE BURNT DOWN
June 23rd.—This day is the fête of St. Jean. We were told that in the evening there was to be a tree burnt down opposite the palace. Accordingly Miss Wragge, brothers, and some of the servants, went to see the ceremony. A tree was fixed up round which were tied bundles of straw and faggots, and a guard stood round it. The son of the governor of the château came out in great style, attended by several servants, with a torch in his hand; he set fire to the tree, and the people tried to pull away the faggots as they were burning. The whole party gave me a very poor account of it. The servants said they could not think what made the people make such a fuss about seeing a bit of a tree burnt down.
FÊTE DIEU
June 24th.—This was the Fête Dieu, a grand fête day in France. Soldiers and priests were passing all the morning. There was a procession at eight o'clock, which I did not see. At half-past eleven we went to the Avenue de St. Cloud, where we were told the procession would pass. There were a very great number of people, amongst others our porter's wife, who ran to get near the procession that the priests might touch her baby. We stood near Madame Crosnier's school; the girls (except Mademoiselle Rose, who was much as usual) were neatly dressed. There were soldiers along each side of the avenue. We were amused at several women who tried to run quickly across before the procession. After we had waited for a long time the procession at last came:—1st, three men on horseback; 2nd, a man in a red gown trimmed with fur, who carried a large red flag—two boys held the strings; 3rd, a man in purple who held a purple flag—two boys held the strings; 4th, a priest with a red flag—two priests held the strings; 5th, pioneers and a band of music; 6th, priests singing; 7th, a number of priests with books and crosses, and a concierge; 8th, priests with censors full of incense, and baskets full of flower-leaves;[30] 9th, several priests holding a crimson velvet canopy, under which was the Bishop of Versailles, an old man of eighty-four. A number of pages dressed in coats embroidered with gold, fleurs-de-lys, etc., and a number of officers, closed the procession. Along each side of the avenue there walked the boys and girls who had taken their première communion, dressed as before. The girls walked on one side and the boys on the other. One of the girls was dressed in white silk and a blue and gold mantle, with long hair over her face and back. We were told that this little girl was dedicated to the Virgin; she was a very curious-looking figure. Several nuns walked with the girls. After them, along each side, there walked a number of priests in very brilliant dresses, gold, red, and green, etc. Besides these there were priests in different parts of the procession. Every now and then the procession stopped, and the priests that went before the bishop turned round and threw incense and flowers, which looked very pretty.
After the procession had passed, we went to see the reposoir of the Lyceum, which we were told was the prettiest. It is a building like a temple. The doors were shut, but a very civil, gentlemanly-looking person let us go in. The pillars were hung with wreaths of green, and there were rows of trees in boxes up the middle, cut like those in the gardens. The altar was a good deal ornamented: there were golden candlesticks, artificial flowers, etc., on it. They were putting away the things while we were there. The person who let us in said it was customary to give away the flowers; we got two or three, which were all that were left. Before the reposoir there was grass laid for the priests to kneel upon; we saw some women picking it up. There was another reposoir in the Avenue de Berri, and one near us at the end of the Avenue de Sceaux, which was made slightly up, out of doors. There were flower-pots on the sides, and a cross of lilies and roses on the top. The children had dressed up little chapels on tables against the wall, in the streets, with little figures, vials full of flowers, coloured paper, etc. As people went by they came to beg 'pour la petite chapelle.' One girl who came was quite a monster: she had no nose, and two teeth that stuck out of her mouth like tusks. Out of some of the windows in the streets were hung pieces of tapestry and old carpets.
June 26th.—Catherine was now extremely ill; indeed, no person seemed very well. What with the cold, and one thing and another, we grew more dismal than ever. This day papa told us for our comfort (for the first time) that as soon as Catherine was able we should all go home. This piece of intelligence made us all happy for a short time, as it was what we did not at all expect. I cannot tell what made me dislike France so very much; one reason I think was that I raised my expectations too high. I had heard so much of the fine climate, the excellent fruit, and the lively people, that I was quite disappointed at the cold weather, the bad fruit,[31] and the dull people. Besides, I felt so far away from home that I grew quite unhappy. Nothing seemed agreeable; I was tired of the gardens and the processions. My greatest amusement was a little rose-tree that died soon after I got it. In the morning when I got up, the only thing I wished was that the day was over, and that we had a day less to stay at Versailles. The family that had lived above us was now gone. Miss Ward and Miss Johnson—two Irish ladies, with Mab, their French servant—now inhabited that part of the house. They had come to France on account of being ill. They were remarkably civil in sending down 'comed-milk,'[32] fruit, or anything else they thought Catherine might like.
BAKER
June 28th.—Carruthers saw our bread-baker standing at the street door talking to some women, with nothing on him but a small apron. The French do not seem to have any idea what delicacy is.