Madame de Fauveau was a witty, kind-hearted woman, and a hero-worshipper, and the hero, or rather heroine, she worshipped was her own daughter, Félicie, who was well worthy of all the incense offered her.
Félicie, some years before I knew her, had attached herself to the fortunes of the Duchesse de Berri, and had been the fast friend and comrade-in-arms of the brave and noble Madame de la Roche-Jacquelin, Princesse de Talmont. This lady had emulated the example of her ancestor, in the first rising of la Vendée, by animating her retainers, and raising, as far as I remember, a regiment, which she herself commanded, to uphold the fortunes of their legitimate King, Henri V., in the same locality, so much so that, with a similarity of name and country, the heroines of the two risings have frequently been confounded, and the dates and heroines confused.
As I only heard the account of this short campaign from Félicie herself, my allusion to it is naturally vague, but I know that those two friends endured great hardships and dangers in each other’s company, and when the little band of loyalists was dispersed, and the cause lost, they wandered about, suffering from hunger and fatigue, often hiding themselves in dry ditches by day, and continuing their flight by night, till at length they were compelled to separate for a better chance of safety. Félicie was taken, and the tattered colours of the Vendéens found under her uniform. She was imprisoned, her captors believing that they had arrested Madame de la Roche-Jacquelin, an error which the faithful friend did not contradict.
On coming out from captivity, Félicie was banished from France, together with her mother and the whole family. The little fortune they possessed was confiscated, and thus it came about that they settled in Florence.
FELICIE DE FAUVEAU
What was to be done to gain a livelihood, for the de Fauveaus were too proud to accept pecuniary aid from people whose political sentiments they did not share? Félicie was energetic. She became a sculptress, she worked in marble, in alabaster, and in silver, in many branches, brooches, clasps, and wings, which would have done no discredit to Benvenuto Cellini. All her tastes, all her talent turned to the expounding of the genius of the Middle Ages, and all her works breathed the spirit of mediæval art. One of her chief productions was a group of Francesca di Rimini, chosen at the moment when Paolo falls at her feet, and the fatal book lies on her lap—
“Quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante.”
Another very beautiful statuette she executed for the Duchesse de Berri; it represented St Elizabeth, at the moment when, upbraided by her husband for carrying provisions to the poor in time of scarcity, she draws aside the cloth which covers her basket, and lo! a miracle, the contents were turned to flowers. I saw this beautiful little statue in the Duchesse de Berri’s palace at Venice, holding fresh white roses, the emblem at once of the Royal Saint and the badge of the Royal owner.
Félicie de Fauveau was an excellent scholar as far as reading went, being well acquainted with our literature, but she never could master the language sufficiently to talk in society, and it was amusing to hear the dialogues between her and my mother, each in her native tongue.
Our stay at Florence was not long. We made a preliminary acquaintance with all the treasures of painting and sculpture contained in that beautiful city, and went on our road to Rome, sleeping one night in the Pontine Marshes, when we had for supper a fricassée of frogs such as I had heard of all my life and never beheld before or since.