Paris, August 2, at night, 1854.
I arrived here this morning, stiff, tired, ill, and blue. I am still suffering from this pain in the side and chest, which makes it impossible for me to sleep in a comfortable position. I reached Cayenne day before yesterday, the very day of the ceremony. I saw the Secretary at once, and contrived to escape all the official visits. At three o’clock I entered the hall of the Law School, and found eighteen or twenty women seated in the gallery, and about two hundred men, to all appearances exactly like those of any other city. There was absolute silence. I delivered my harangue without the slightest disturbance, and at the close was politely applauded. The meeting continued an hour and a half after I sat down, and ended with the reading of some verses by a hunchback, two and a half feet high. The poetry was not bad.
I was then conducted by the directors to the Hôtel de Ville, where a banquet, lasting two hours, was given in my honor. There was excellent fish, and the oysters were delicious. I was about to leave, when the President of the Antiquarian Society rose from his seat, all the other guests following his example. He began to speak, saying, that inasmuch as from three aspects I was a man of notable attainments, he wished to propose my health, as Senator, as man of letters, and as a scholar. There was only the table between us, and I was strongly tempted to hurl a plate of Roman punch at his head.
While he was speaking, I racked my brains for a suitable response, but it was impossible to think of a word. When he had ceased, I knew that it was absolutely necessary for me to say something, so I began, without an idea of what I should say next. I rambled on in this way for several minutes, with plenty of assurance but without giving any thought to what I was talking about. I was congratulated for my eloquent response, but this was not to be the end.
Captured by the Mayor, I was conducted to a concert given by the ladies and gentlemen of the Philharmonic Society for the benefit of the poor. They put me in a conspicuous seat, facing a large gathering of well-dressed people, the ladies very pretty and very fair. Their gowns were Parisian in mode, except that there was visible less expanse of shoulders, and that with their ball-dresses they wore russet boots. Airs from some of the comic operas were sung abominably, and then an overdressed society woman took up the collection in a cut-glass dish. I gave her twenty francs, which won me a most gracious spreading curtsey. At midnight I was escorted to my rooms, where I slept very badly, or rather I did not sleep at all.
Next morning, at eight o’clock, they came to request me to preside at a business meeting, where I listened to the minutes of the proceedings of the night before, in which it was stated that I had delivered a most eloquent address. I made a speech, to urge that all the adverbs be omitted from the report, but my request was not granted. Finally, I got into the mail-coach, and here I am. Everything would be tiptop if I could spend a whole day with you; it would refresh me more than anything else.
I do not believe in your impossibilities. I reserve my doubts and my chagrin. My minister wishes me to go to the Exposition at Munich. It is a matter of indifference to me; but where shall I go this summer, if not to Germany? Good-bye. No matter what you do, I still love you, and I think you should be a little more touched by this than you are. You may continue to write to this address.
CLIX
Innspruck, August 31, 1854.
I am very weary, and still feel inclined to write to you. My brain is tired, bewildered with the magnificent landscapes and panoramas on which I have gazed for four days. I went from Bâle to Schaffhausen, where we take the steamer for the Rhine journey. On both sides of the river rise mountains that are enchanting, of far greater beauty than those, so called, bordering the lower Rhine, between Mayence and Cologne, and so much admired by the English. From the Rhine we entered Lake Constance and landed at the town of the same name, where we ate some excellent trout, and heard the zither played by Tyroleans. We then crossed the Lake to Lindau, where a railway train awaited us, and from which we enjoyed a magnificent view of the loveliest forests, lakes, and mountains which the country can show. The railway carried us to Kempton, and by that time we were spent with fatigue, as if we had been for hours in a beautiful gallery of pictures. Instead of resting, however, we left Kempton the same night, and reached Innspruck yesterday, a few minutes before midnight. The country through which we travelled was even more enchanting—no, not that, but more sublime—than that which we had just visited. Our only annoyance was in settling our accounts and in changing horses at every post-house. There were a dozen of these, at least, between Kempton and Innspruck.