Lives of Celebrated Women

by Samuel G. Goodrich

“I was six years old when my brother was sent to Paris, to the famous academy of M. Bertrand, the most virtuous and best instructor of his time. It was he who invented the method of learning to spell in six weeks, by means of boxes full of counters. Two or three months after the departure of my brother, my mother made a journey to Paris, and took me with her.

“I was not much pleased with Paris, and, for the first few days of my stay there, I regretted St. Aubin bitterly. I had two teeth pulled out; my clothes pinched me terribly; my feet were imprisoned in tight shoes, with which it was impossible for me to walk; I had a multitude of curl papers put on my head; and I wore a hoop, for the first time in my life. In order to get rid of my country attitudes, I had an iron collar put on my neck, and, as I squinted a little at times, I was obliged to put on goggles as soon as I woke in the morning; and these I wore four hours. I was, moreover, not a little surprised when they talked of giving 185 me a master to teach me what I thought I knew well enough already—to walk. Beside all this, I was forbidden to run, to leap, or ask questions.

“All these painful constraints made such an impression on me, that I have never forgotten them. I have since faithfully depicted them in a little comedy called ‘The Dove.’ But a great ceremony, and the fine entertainments which followed it, soon made me forget my little griefs. I had only been privately christened; I was now baptized in public; my aunt, Madame de Bellevau, was my godmother, and M. Bouret, the farmer-general, my godfather. I received some splendid presents; and I had, besides, plenty of sweetmeats and playthings, and I soon recovered my good-humor. I was taken also to the opera, which delighted me beyond measure.

“My father had the utmost affection for me, but he did not interfere with my education in any point but one; he wished to make me a woman of firm mind, and I was born with numberless little antipathies. I had a horror of all insects, particularly of spiders and toads. I was also afraid of mice, and he made me feed and bring up one. I loved my father to excess, and he had such an influence over me, that I never dared to disobey him. He would frequently oblige me to catch spiders with my fingers, and to hold toads in my hands, and, at such times, though I felt as if the blood had forsaken my veins, I was forced to obey. These trials proved clearly to me that toads are not venomous; but they powerfully contributed to weaken my nerves, and have only augmented the antipathies which they were intended to remove. They have, however, 186 served to give me a habit of self-command, which of itself is a great benefit.

“So passed several years. Mademoiselle de Mars, a young woman from Brittany, had now the sole direction of my studies, and she gave me also lessons in singing, and on the harpsichord. I became attached to her from the first, and passed nearly all my time with her. I made great progress in my music, and we rehearsed a great many little plays for our amusement. Much applause was bestowed upon my performances, except by Mademoiselle de Mars, who generally only praised me for what belonged to my heart or character. I led a charming life: in the morning I played on the harpsichord; afterwards I studied my parts; then I took my lesson in dancing and fencing, and then read till dinner. After dinner, we read pious books, and afterwards spent our time in amusements and walking.

“I will here give the history of what a woman never forgets—the first passion she inspires. I was but a child of eleven years and nine months, and very small of my age; besides, I had a face and features so delicate, that those who saw me for the first time never supposed me older than eight or nine, at furthest; yet a young man of eighteen became desperately in love with me—the son of Dr. Pinot, one of the first physicians at the baths of Bourbon-Lancey. He had performed parts in our plays for two years.

“None of us suspected his folly, and certainly I had not the slightest idea of it; when, one morning, after a rehearsal, the young man came up to me, and, seizing the moment when I was standing separate from the other actors in the side scene, and with an air of wildness 187 in his looks, gave me a note, begging me, in a low tone, to read it, and let no one see it. I took the note, though much surprised, and he left me. Mademoiselle de Mars soon after joined me. I put the note in my pocket, and we went up stairs to our room. I hesitated about showing her my note, as I had been charged so strongly to show it to no one; but to keep a secret with the friend I loved so dearly weighed heavily upon my conscience; at the same time, my curiosity was extreme.

“At last, Mademoiselle de Mars left me. I ran into my cabinet, locked the door, and read the note, which contained a serious declaration of love. My first movement was to be excessively shocked that the son of a physician—a person of no rank—should presume to talk of love to me. I went immediately and showed the note to my friend, who desired me to carry it to my mother, which I did. The young man was reprimanded by his father, as he deserved to be; and he felt so much chagrin on the occasion, that he enlisted in the army, and left the place. I afterwards heard of him as having obtained his discharge, and that he was married and happy, and an excellent young man.

“Two months after this romantic flight, we went to Paris. I confess, to my shame, that I quitted Burgundy without regret; for childhood loves and requires change. At Paris we found my aunt, the Countess de Bellevau, and after a short time we took up our abode with her. At her house I saw the celebrated author M. Marmontel. He came to read her his ‘Tales.’ I was present at the reading of one, called, I think, ‘The 188 Self-styled Philosopher,’ in which a fat president’s wife, begrimmed with snuff, leads about in triumph this pretended sage, with a rose-colored ribbon. Though but twelve years old, I thought this story dull and absurd, and I thought rightly. The author was far from supposing that the little girl then before him would one day write a critique on these tales, which should throw him into transports of rage.

“At the close of the winter, we went to a country-house of my aunt’s, which had a delightful garden close to the forest of Vincennes. My brother, my two cousins, and myself, performed little pieces, and we had many little fêtes at which my brother and myself sung duets. He was by no means as remarkable a child as I was: he was shy, awkward, and of an inconceivable simplicity: he had requested my father in vain to let him use a gun; he was always told that he must first acquire a knowledge of fencing, for which he had not the slightest taste: he therefore adopted the following expedient: he loaded a gun, shut himself up in his room, and, in order to fire without making a noise, he bethought him of thrusting the barrel of the gun under the mattress of the bed. He then fired in this prudent manner, set fire to the bed, and was himself knocked down by the rebound. The family hastily assembled, and discovered with surprise this singular invention. The next summer we spent at Passy, and in October returned to Paris.