The visit paid to Baron Gros by two of the naturalists left by no means an agreeable impression. The French ambassador is a tall, commanding, powerfully-built man, about fifty years of age, with a full, round, beardless face covered with freckles, and hair of a light colour. He seemed pleased to speak of himself and his connections, and repeatedly proclaimed himself an admirer of German men of science, who was in correspondence with M. von Humboldt. "You know," quoth the Baron, apparently desirous of explaining his meaning, "he that wrote the Kosmos." The two members of our Expedition coloured up; to pronounce the name of Humboldt to German men of science, and deem it necessary to state his literary claims, was sufficiently embarrassing. One of them endeavoured to turn the conversation to the gulf of Petchi-li, whence Baron Gros had just returned after the ratification of the treaty of peace. He showed them a hasty sketch of a portion of the great wall of China, to which he had paid a visit when in the gulf of Petchi-li, and had made the sketch on the spot. The natives with whom he came in contact during his stay in the North he described as destitute and poor to an extraordinary degree, but anything but hostile to foreigners. They asked for with eagerness and seized with avidity the entrails of animals which the sailors were about to throw away; on empty bottles being thrown
overboard, they swam a considerable distance to rescue them. With respect to the political events in the Pei-ho and Tien-Tsin, his Excellency, whether out of diplomatic reserve or for other reasons we do not know, preserved profound silence.[150]
A variety of circumstances, however, may have contributed to make the Baron less susceptible to every other thing than his everlasting "I." Baron Gros had in fact been subjected
to the very great inconvenience of the Propellor Audacieuse, which had been brought from France, having suddenly become unseaworthy, so that he had to abandon her. She was making from 100 to 140 tons of water per diem, and there was nothing for it but to have the vessel taken with all speed to the docks at Whampoa for repairs, while the envoy had to return to Europe by another opportunity. Moreover, the Baron had been attacked by a disorder of common occurrence in hot countries, namely, a furuncle, which is exceedingly painful, and obstinately resists every remedy. Whoever is of a constitution liable to such attacks is never free from them till he gains a colder climate. In the case of the unfortunate Baron, these went on continually increasing, and on one of his compatriots being asked in society what was the cause of the absence of the French ambassador, replied with an arch look, "le pauvre baron a quatre-vingt cloux." In fact, the annoyance caused by this malady is redoubled by the little sympathy accorded to those afflicted with it, who are only rallied or laughed at.
Another personage who, at the period of our stay in Shanghai, attained a rather unenviable notoriety by his strange conduct, and did but little to raise the reputation of France in these latitudes, was the Marquis de Chassiron. By his marriage with one of the Princesses Murat (since dead), he was allied to the Emperor of the French, whom he occasionally spoke of in an off-hand way as "mon neveu, l'Empereur." Meagre, wizen, spindle-shanked, and ringletted,
in coloured check pantaloons, blue frock, open-work cravat of Gros de Naples, and dancing-master's pumps, resembling much more a second-rate Paris dandy than a diplomatist, it seemed as though he must have been dispatched to this out-of-the-way part of the world for quite other than a diplomatic object, although he took great pains to spread the report that he had been appointed the successor of Baron Gros in the Embassy.
One day the Commodore and some members of the Expedition received an invitation from the kind and hospitable English Consul, Mr. Brook Robertson, to be present at a reception at the Consulate of the Táu-Tái, or highest Chinese official of the city.[151]
We the more readily congratulated ourselves on this invitation, as, owing to the sudden departure of the Táu-Tái, we missed the opportunity of paying him a visit in his own palace in the city. Punctually at the appointed hour, 2 P.M., a formal procession was seen approaching the buildings of the English Consulate. In front were carried numerous titles and insignia, then the Táu-Tái in a large and handsome sedan-chair,