Chapter II: Part 2

_May 9th._--We got up pretty early, glad enough to leave our dirty, disagreeable beds. The servants began to clean the kitchen, but the smell was so bad that it made them sick; they therefore got two men in to clean it; and when they came to the pipe that carried away the dirt, they were also unable to proceed till they got a glass of brandy. The oven was an inch thick with dirt; when it was a little cleaned they discovered a looking-glass at the back of the oven. All the egg-shells, stalks of vegetables, etc., had been thrown under the charcoal fires; the rolling-pin was covered with dirt. Indeed, a dirtier place could not have been imagined. The meat chopper was also an inch thick of dirt. The cellar was overrun with lizards, and the closets with ants, etc. It was rather more agreeable out of doors. The front of the house was turned from the street, and before it were two terraces, one above the other, which were covered with vines, and at the end were some fine Judas trees. From the terrace we had a view of the Seine and Paris. The weather was fine, but we none of us were in a humour to enjoy this view. The porter that lived at the end of the terrace had a little boy of five or six years old. François was a nice boy, but, like most of the French children, rather forward. We walked through the village as far as the Bois de Boulogne. There are streets in Passy like a town, but very few shops; the people who live there get all their things from Paris. We picked up several cantheræ.

_May 10th._--We now found the dirt so intolerable that mamma determined to speak to Madame Gautier, the lady from whom we had taken the house. She said that she would have the house cleaned and painted; but that if we wished to leave it, not to consider that any agreement had been made. (Our house had been taken for a year.) On hearing this papa went immediately to Versailles to look after a house; when he returned he told us that he had taken one, to which we were to go next day. We went to bed in rather better spirits, comforting ourselves that it was the last night we should sleep here.

_May 11 th._--This morning we were busy packing and settling our things. We were rather at a loss about some clothes which we had at the wash, not knowing how we could get them. The porter, however, told us that we might be easy, as he knew a coachman who passed constantly by the door, with whom he would send the things. That we might be sure, we again asked him if he was certain of being able to send the things; but he repeated his answer so often that we had not the least doubt of his being as good as his promise. Soon after breakfast we set off in a cabriolet, which is rather a curious conveyance, but very roomy. It has two seats, one before the other, and it opens in front where the man sits. It jogged very much going downhill. There is only one horse. The man drove so close behind the cabriolet in which the servants were that we could not see anything; on asking him to go to one side he went straight before. Presently he stopped and took up another man, which they call a 'lapin,' and they chatted and laughed all the way, frequently stopping to get little glasses of brandy, as all the French drivers do. They stopt for a long while at a post-house, where the men got some bread out of a bin in the corner, and some wine. The people at the inn brought us out a few little cakes, for which they afterwards charged several francs. It was about the middle of the day when we got to Versailles.

It is a nice-looking town. There are three avenues up the middle. The soldiers were exercising in the Avenue de Sceaux when we passed; they exercised there several times a week. We used to like to hear their music, but they spoilt it with drumming. Our house was near the end of the Avenue de Sceaux, No. 6. Before the door was what they called 'Deux jolis jardins,' which turned out to be a small garden with a walk, and two hedges up the middle which divided it. We had not the upper story of the house. We paid 300 francs a month. The rooms were all round a court, so that one had to pass from one room to get to another. The drawing-room was furnished quite after the French fashion: there was a round table with two large pieces of marble on it; another table supported by bronze sphinxes; a beautiful piece of furniture that had belonged to the palace, which contained fourteen secret drawers and several mirrors. But besides this there were two clocks, neither of which would go; linen curtains hung on common iron rods; common painted frames round the glasses. Instead of a carpet there was a very little shabby piece of green cloth; and no grate; and such fire-irons as you would not see in an English kitchen. The furniture was stamped blue cotton-velvet. On the floor of the dining-room there was a little ragged piece of old tapestry; this and the green cloth were the only pretensions to carpet in the house, so that what with the want of grates and the red stone floors, it looked very cold and comfortless. But that we did not much mind, as the heat was what we always dreaded. The locks of the doors hurt all our fingers, they were so stiff. After we had thoroughly looked through the house, we went out to walk through the town. The trees in the avenues are kept cut, which is very formal-looking. We passed before the King's stables. They are in the form of a half moon; before the court is a railing with gilt tops. The great and the little stable are separated by the Avenue de Paris. Nearly opposite is the palace. Higher up the avenue, on the side of the Grande Ecurie, is the kennel. It looks pretty, and I think very large for a dog-kennel; it was, however, found too small. After walking as far as the Place d'Armes (which separates the old from the new town) we returned, and spent the evening in condoling with one another.

VERSAILLES PALACE

_May 12th._--We went this day to see the palace and the gardens. When one looks at it, from the side next Paris, one might fancy it was a town of itself, there seem so many different buildings. As you go up to it there are some curious-looking buildings in imitation of tents. The iron railing that separates the palace from the Place d'Armes is very much ornamented and gilt, and on each side there is a group of gilt figures. After passing by the chapel we entered the park. On this side the palace is 1800 feet long, and from its great length looks rather low. The park of Versailles is divided into the great and the little park, which united form a circuit of sixty miles. The great park includes several villages. The little park includes the gardens, the groves, the pieces of water, etc. There are several entrances. The principal one is by the arcades of the palace. When one stands in the middle of the terrace one sees the Basin of Latona, the Tapis-vert, Apollo's Bath, and the canal at the right, the parterre of the north, and Neptune's Bath; and at the left the parterre of flowers, the orangery, and the _pièce d'eau des Suisses_. The whole garden seems almost composed of statues and vases. The vases are, I think, the most beautiful things in the garden; they are mostly of white marble (a few are of bronze), and covered with the most beautiful carving; some are very simple, having only a border round them, and others are covered with figures, sunflowers, or vines. There are also a great many basins of water. The finest is Neptune's Bath. It is a large piece of water surrounded by twenty-two vases. There are several groups of figures: the principal one in the front is Neptune and Amphitrite seated in a large shell, and surrounded by tritons and naiads. Apollo's Bath is another very fine one. Apollo is represented in his car drawn by four horses, and surrounded by sea-monsters. Latona's basin is as curious as any: in the middle, on several steps of red marble, are Latona and her children, and around them, on the steps, are seventy-four frogs, which represent the Lybian peasants metamorphosed by Jupiter on the complaint made to him by Latona. Some of them seem half frogs and half men. Besides these there are a great many smaller basins. There is one basin which seems gone to decay. In it is represented the giant Enceladus crushed under the ruins of Mount Olympus, and a number of groups of bronze children supporting basins. Around many of them are parterres of flowers.

The Tapis-vert is a long piece of grass, at each side of which are numerous vases and statues. In the evening, before sunset, this is the favourite promenade, and is quite crowded by all ranks of people. It is a favourite game to try and walk down this green blindfold. The canal is at the bottom of the Tapis-vert, below Apollo's Bath. It is very long, but not very pretty, as it does not finish with anything; it is crossed by another canal, which conducts to the Trianon.

There are a great many long avenues and squares, several of which are closed. The avenues looked suitable to the rest of the garden, but _very_ formal. There are also rows of yew-trees cut into every kind of formal shape, which spoils the look of the gardens very much. The prettiest part of the garden is Hartwell, or the King's garden, which is made in imitation of the place where he resided when in England. It is very like an English garden. In the middle is a column of very pretty marble, with a small figure of Flora at the top. This garden is railed in, but is open every evening for people to walk in. I was very much disappointed in the orangery: it is lower than the rest of the garden. Most of the orange-trees were standing out, but there is a gallery to put them in. There is a basin of water in the middle of the orangery, and borders of flowers all round. There are immense numbers of orange, lemon, citron, laurel, and pomegranate trees:--the oldest orange-tree is said to be five hundred years old; but they are by no means pretty; they are all in large tubs; and instead of the branches being allowed to spread, they are all cut like box, which make them look still more formal. Even the flowers in the borders of the orangery are planted alternately yellow and white. The blossoms of the oranges are sold. From the orangery we had a view of the Etang Suisse; it looks like a dirty pond on a common. The whole garden is open to every person till nine o'clock, when a drum beats. At the entrance there is a list of rules: no dogs are to be brought in unless tied with a string; and nobody is to fish in the ponds, or to touch the statues or flowers. Notwithstanding, however, these prohibitions, I have counted seven or eight dogs at one time running over the flower-borders, and boys climbing on the beautiful vases, or fishing for gold and silver fish, of which there are a great many, particularly in Apollo's Bath. As we returned through the court, several very ugly old women pressed round us and asked whether we would like to see the apartments of the palace, but we thought it was better to defer this till another day.

_May 13th._--I was very much surprised to see here, as well as at Paris, not the least regard paid to Sunday. All the shops were open, houses were building, and people sitting working at their doors, seeming more industrious this day than any other; even the tradespeople made a point of bringing their things on a Sunday. The English clergyman was a Mr. Beaver. At church we saw several people that we had formerly seen at Clifton and Bath; it was quite full of English.

JACK

_May 14th._--About this time a little circumstance happened which shows the French inconsistency. We wanted a jack put up in the kitchen. The mason and his boy came first, but not finding the blacksmith there, they went away; then came the blacksmith and his boy, but not finding the mason, they went away. After going on in this way for some time, they at last all met. The mason then took out of a paper bag some delicate-looking white powder, which, after mixing into a paste, he layed with great care on to a fine silver trowel, and then proceeded to dab it on to the wall with his fingers.

_May 15th._--We now began to be rather surprised that the clothes we had left at Passy, and which the porter said he would send directly, had not arrived. Stephens, our foreign courier, who spoke English, was therefore despatched to bring them. We afterwards found that, so far from knowing a person to send them by, the porter had consulted with Stephens and asked him if he knew of any person; so that we might have waited long for our clothes if we had trusted to the porter's word. The French are very fond of making promises, but not quite so fond of performing them; this we found to be the case with our house: one of our beds broke down several times; some rooms wanted tables, some jugs, some carpets, and all window-curtains--so that you could see across the yard from one room to another; they found it very easy to promise all these things, but we waited many a week before we got one. The English family above us had one baby of a few months old, called Angelica Ellen, which we were very fond of nursing. The lady was so ill as not to be able to attend to it, and seemed to leave it entirely to the care of a French nurse, who attended to it very badly. She would take it out in the rain, or give it to anybody in the street to hold, while she played at hide-and-seek with the old porter and his wife, who looked to be above seventy; she one day let it fall into the fire and burnt all its poor little hands. There is a porter to all the French houses. Our porter's wife took care of children: we sometimes used to get her in to clean the pans, etc.; then the nurse used to come in also to chat with her and meddle with the things in the kitchen.

TRIANONS

_May 19th._--This day was, for a rarity, very warm. We saw in the garden a swallow-tail butterfly and some small red moths, which were almost the only kinds I saw in France. I never saw anywhere so few butterflies: we thought it quite a treat to see a single white one. There was the same scarcity of birds; and, notwithstanding the quantity of wood in the gardens, we hardly heard one. In the middle of the day we walked to the Trianons. The Grand Trianon is situated at the extremity of one of the branches of the canal. We went to it from the palace garden along a hayfield, near which we sometimes saw the soldiers playing at ninepins. Near the Trianons were some tall lombardy poplars and some very pretty acacias. At the gate were a great many soldiers. An avenue leads up to the little Trianon, which, though it is called a palace, is not larger than a small private house. The Grand Trianon is very pretty, but looks small after the other great palace: it is adorned with eight green marble, and fourteen red marble pillars. We this day saw neither the inside nor the gardens, but merely passed by it. Lower down was a pond near which some sheep were feeding, which, with the wood of the forest, formed a pretty scene. We returned through part of the forest, and home through the gardens. As we were going along one of the walks we saw a great many people running, and on enquiring the reason we were told it was to see the Duchesse d'Angoulême: we saw her go into one of the walks which were closed, and afterwards pass through the Orangerie. She was on horseback; there were some ladies and gentlemen beside her, and other attendants behind. She was dressed in a dark habit; her eyes were red, as if she had been crying, and she was not good-looking. We saw her two or three times afterwards, when she came to visit a college for educating priests to send over the country, and which was very near our house. We often saw scores of students going a-walking in their long black gowns tucked up through the pocket-hole. They were in general very vulgar and ungentlemanly-looking. The people did not seem to pay them much respect, as the porter's wife and the nurse pointed, and then burst out a-laughing when they passed. There were above three hundred at the college.

BALL

_May 17th._--There was this day a ball given at the palace in honour of the Duke of Bordeaux's baptism. Mamma did not go, as Mrs. Murray, the only person she knew there, could not go on account of the death of a friend. They said the supper was to be very splendid. We went to a _pâtissier_ to see some of the ornaments. There were very few, and those were not very pretty: one of the best was the arms of France, made of cake and ornamented with coloured paste. They told us that there were no more ornaments for supper than what we saw; but there must have been more, as we saw people carrying several out of the shop into another room: what we saw were merely a few in the windows. In the evening we walked towards the palace to see the illuminations. Beside the gate and across the court were pieces of iron this shape

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to which the lamps were fastened. The carriages drove up between the rows of lamps. Mamma and my sisters were not a little surprised to see a _gondole_ (which is the same kind of thing as a stage-coach) drive up to the entrance. The driver lifted out of it a very fat, gouty lady, dressed in a black lace gown over a white satin slip; she had a white satin turban on her head, short sleeves, and dirty-looking, lead-coloured gloves. She had very thick legs, and there was something very peculiar about her feet. She had worsted stockings on! This is one of the instances out of many of the inconsistency of the French, in dress as well as in other things. The poorest-looking people will have gold chains and earrings, although in other respects remarkably shabbily dressed. The lower class of people are much worse dressed than the English.

_May 20th._--We all now began to feel very uncomfortable; everything was so very different to the things in an English house. From the drawing-room to the kitchen all was uncomfortable, and the habits of the people were so dirty and untidy that our three English servants begged that they might do the work themselves instead of having a foreigner to assist them. Stephens our courier was gone, so that we had often to go with Carruthers (our cook) to the market to speak for her. When she went by herself she, however, contrived to make herself understood; she went all round the market and searched about till she got hold of the thing she wanted, then she touched it and said, _Combeen_. She soon learnt a few words such as _pom-de-tary, chu, mungy, francs, sows, kickshaws_, etc.; if she did not understand what they said she answered _Inglytary nong comprehendy_. Robins (our manservant) got on best; he stammered out a word of French and a word of English, till by words and signs he contrived to get what he wanted. One word they all knew, and that was _bukkah, bukkah_; they were so determined not to be cheated that Carruthers went all the way back from the Avenue de Sceaux to the market if she found they owed her one sou. Notwithstanding all our care we frequently were cheated; they will try every possible means:[16] sometimes when the market-people set down what we had bought, they would write down a few more pence than they had before charged, or contrive some other way for getting money. The provisions at Versailles were fully dearer than in England. One of the best shops in the market was Madame Segan's, although she, as well as the rest, would cheat if she could. The butter was very bad in France. Madame Segan's was the best, but as there was no salt in it, and they only got it once a week, it did not keep good. The butcher's meat (except the pork and veal) is not good: they have a curious custom of blowing it up so as to look very large. The French bread being made of leaven is very sour; we got English bread from a baker at Versailles. Another good shop for eggs, etc., is The Black Hen.

* * * * *

Madame Vernier, the woman whom we took the house from, was a _restaurateur_ next door, so we often got some dishes from her. Her _chef de cuisine_ used sometimes also to come to our house to make dishes. It was very curious to see his proceedings; the beginning of all his dishes was the same, a large piece of batter and a little flour; to this he often added some bouillon. He was one day going to make a small dish off a large dish of cold roast beef. Instead of cutting off a few slices, (before we saw what he was about) he cut every bit of the beef to pieces, and then broke the bones and threw them into the _pot an feu_, to the great discomposure of Carruthers. The French can make a dish out of almost anything. One day he began to tell us a long story about a place where he used to dip the children, and to show us what he meant he took little Caroline in his arms and pretended to bathe her. This cook was a true French figure; he used to come in with his white nightcap and apron on, and a sharp pointed knife hung by his side. After scraping up the charcoal with his fingers he used to dip two of them into the pan, and putting them to his mouth he used to say, 'Très bon, très bon.' He was, however, a civil enough old man in his way.

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Another curious figure was our water-woman. She was a remarkably ugly, vulgar-looking old woman, and like all the old French women, an immense size. She used to wear a brown petticoat, a tattered apron, and a knitted woollen body. Notwithstanding her uncouth appearance, however, she was by far the most polite old woman I saw in France. Though upwards of seventy, she one day sang us some songs very well. When she came she used to make a curtsy and enquire after us all in the civilest manner possible. Indeed she was nearly the only person whose manner was at all like what I expected. Although one hears so much of French politeness, I do not think that the French are near so polite as the English. The men make better bows, etc., but in other things there is a kind of forwardness in the manners of the people that I cannot admire. If you are walking in the street and a person happens to run against you or hit you with his stick (which frequently happens), he never thinks of saying anything except calling out 'eh!' laughing, and then walking on.

MASTERS

_May 21st._--By this time we were sufficiently settled to have some masters. The dancing master who had been recommended to us was Monsieur le Breton. I believe he taught dancing very well in the French style and took a good deal of pains, but he was not a very agreeable master. The French dancing is completely different from the English; they think it beautiful to dance on the flat of the foot and to bend every step, which makes the dancing look very heavy: they do not like jumping, although their steps are full of little hops. Their tunes too are very dull. The French in general do not admire the English dancing; we were told, however, of one English lady who had danced at the balls, quite after the English fashion, and whose dancing had been very much admired. The constant cry of Monsieur Breton was _pliez, pliez_, and indeed part of the time we danced on a stone floor so that we could dance heavy enough to please him. He had expressions like the rest of the French, such as dancing, or working, 'like an angel,' etc. He called the little ones Williaume, Henault, and Coquette. Our dancing master had one very disagreeable, though common French trick; he used to spit so about the floor that it was quite unpleasant to dance. He taught six of us three times a week for six francs a lesson. He had the smallest kit I ever saw. He stayed two hours each time. Madame Breton was a dressmaker. We tried her, but she was by no means a good one. She had three children, one of whom was an idiot; and as three children in France are reckoned a large family, she used always to be complaining. The best dressmaker was Mademoiselle Bouillet, Rue Charcelere. She made our things very well; but towards the last, when she found we were going away, she hurried over the work without taking the least pains, charging very dear for some things, and quite spoiling others. She used constantly to be promising us to send our things, and as often breaking her promise. She one day told us very coolly that we might believe _her_ promises, as she never told lies; that her little girl was in the habit of lying, but that it was not the case with herself. Another day she told us it was not her _nature_ to tell lies, but her profession. The French people do not seem to think it wrong to cheat or lie, or the least disgraceful to be told they do. Sometimes when we thought anything we were buying dear, and told the shopkeeper that we had bought the same thing cheaper in another shop, she answered, 'O madame, vous ne pouvez pas; c'est impossible.'

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Monsieur Violet was our French master. He was a good-humoured little man, and spoke English very well. He generally wore a green coat and light drab slippers; his hair looked as if it had not been combed out for a month: altogether he very much resembled an ape. He came for an hour every day, and charged two francs a lesson.

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Miss Wragge had the best Italian master---Monsieur Pecci--in Europe (so they told us). He charged a napoleon for twelve lessons, whether she took them or not. He was a dark, disagreeable-looking man. He looked like one of the banditti.

* * * * *

We went to enquire about Monsieur Capan, the drawing master (none of us, however, went). He was finishing one very pretty picture; but he seemed to have a great objection to show us his drawings: he said it was quite unnecessary for us to see them. His pupils drew from busts, he said; they might draw all day if they liked it, but that he generally looked after them for an hour or so in the middle of the day.

* * * * *

We did not get any music master. The general run of French pianos are not good. Madame Verny offered to sell us a harpsichord for forty francs-certainly cheap enough; but as half the notes were like a pestle and mortar, and the other half would not sound at all, we thought it would be no acquisition.

FUNERAL

_May 23rd._--As we expected French young ladies to be very elegant, mamma was most anxious that we should go as day scholars to a French school; she thought, besides, that it would be a change, as we were all sufficiently tired of Versailles. We therefore enquired of several people, and were told that the pension of Madame Crosnier de Varigny, Boulevard de la Reine, No. 55, was the best at Versailles: they said it was not indeed the largest, but the best and the most select. We thought that so near the capital there must be good schools; we therefore set out this day to go and speak about it. In our way, as we passed the Church of Notre Dame, we observed it was all hung with black; we walked in, and enquired of some people the cause. They answered, 'On va faire un enterrement; c'est une dame forte à son aise.' We walked round the church, which is plain and dirty. A number of priests, boys, and beggars went out to meet the corpse with candles in their hands. After waiting till we were almost tired, the funeral at last made its appearance. There first came in the beggars bearing lighted candles in their hands; then a priest carrying a crucifix; then a number of priests, and boys that attend the priests, in black and white; then two priests who held a sort of black pipe, a serpent through which they blew; after that came the coffin, covered with white silk and bordered with black velvet: it was placed on a bier elevated on a platform covered with black near the altar. A great many candles were lighted around it. A priest chanted the whole way up the church and during mass. Mass lasted half an hour. After it was finished they made a collection, after which the procession left the church in the same order as when it entered. The old beggars also went out, taking their candles along with them. There were forty of them, the most frightfully ugly creatures that can be imagined. Their skins were like brown leather; they had on old patched petticoats; they were blind and lame; one had a nose as big as her face, and the next no nose at all: they were altogether the most frightful set I ever beheld. There were not many people at the church, except some old women, a number of whom are generally standing about the churches. (Some of them take care of the chairs. Every person that takes one chair pays two liard, or on great fêtes two sous.) These old women were likewise very ugly. As the French women (except the ladies) do not wear bonnets, their faces get sunburnt, and the old women's skins look like leather. Some grow excessively fat. They wear a curious kind of cap, and generally a red gown and a dark-blue apron with pockets, and a kind of large chintz handkerchief. After leaving the church we proceeded to Madame Crosnier's. There were two or three queerly-dressed, vulgar-looking girls standing at the window. We were shown up into a bedroom. Madame Crosnier is a good-looking woman, genteel, and altogether the nicest-looking woman I saw in France: she had on a neat cotton gown (which is more worn in France than in England) and a pelerine. Mademoiselle Allemagne, her _sous-maîtresse_, was not near so nice-looking. The terms were for day-scholars, who did not get their meals there, 10 francs a month, drawing 10 francs, music 18 francs, harp 36, dancing 9, and Italian 10 francs. School hours were from nine to twelve, and from one to three. Thursday was a half-holiday. Madame Crosnier showed us some of the young ladies' work: it was principally little figures embroidered with coloured silks on white silk. Catherine went to this school the next day; Euphemia and I not till above a fortnight after.

_May 25th._--We took a walk in the forest. It is full of paths, so that one might easily lose one's way: the wood is very pretty. It was evening when we walked in it, and we saw one moth, the only one I saw in France, except the cinnabars and some brown midges. We met the King's gamekeeper, whom papa spoke to: a little further on a drunken man passed us: drunken people were by no means a rare sight here, although we had been told the contrary. When we got home it was quite dark, and they were lighting the lamps, which are hung on ropes stretched across the street.

ASCENSION

_May 29th._--This was Ascension Day, which is a grand fête. We saw a long procession of priests and soldiers, which I do not remember very distinctly. After breakfast we went to high mass at St. Louis, which we were told was to be very grand. The priests had on very fine dresses, gold, scarlet, silver, purple, green, and all colours. It was quite like some show; they changed places on the steps and figured about as if they were waltzing. The bishop had on a gold mitre; he was dressed very splendidly. There was a great deal of fine flourishing music. The priests flung about the incense, and the little boys dressed in white muslin over red gowns rang little bells, on which the people knelt down. We went to see service again in the afternoon; it consisted of nothing but loud music like a waltz tune.[17] I missed the prettiest sight, which was seeing a lady make the _quête_ or collection for the poor. The lady sat before the altar; she had on a white gauze gown, and a veil which hung down behind fastened round her head with a wreath of roses. She had on white gloves and shoes, and was dressed as if she was going to a ball. An officer handed her about, and the concierge went before, knocking on the ground with his stick. (The concierge is generally a very tall man dressed in plum colour; he goes before the priests, funerals, etc.) The lady held in her hand a little box of crimson velvet and gold which she presented to everybody, and curtsied; a servant followed with a crimson bag, into which she emptied the money when the box was full. The French churches are just like some show. We were told that a French gentleman had stayed at the English chapel one Sunday during the sacrament; he said he was very much struck with the stillness and solemnity, 'avec nous c'est tout comédie.' In the afternoon, before service began, we observed a very poor, miserable-looking man sitting with a money-box before him, and at one side a shell full of holy water (which we did not at first observe). Miss Wragge, thinking he was a miserable object, as she passed dropped a sou into his box; which no sooner had she done than he dipped a little mop which he held in his hand into the holy water, and sprinkled it over her face. This set some women who were kneeling down a-laughing. After mass we saw the rooms of the palace; they were very magnificent, but I had a much better view of them some time afterwards.

NANNETTE

_May 29th._--As we rather wanted some person to assist our servants, Nannette, the German servant we had at Passy, was sent for. She was most useful in going messages, as she would run all day; several people said they were sure she was not a French woman, she was so active. She, however, had most of the French habits; if she was making a bed, or doing anything else, if she heard anything, down went her work and off she went to see what was the matter. She never could do without going to _promener_ in the evening, and going for a day up to Paris once every week. Nannette also copied the French in eating; besides taking the same meals as our other servants, she used to be continually eating at odd times. Sometimes she cooked herself some _potage_, or else she asked for _pain_ and _quelque chose_; one day she eat half a tureen of cold sorrel soup soon after breakfast; and frequently cold meat and bread. Besides all this, she never went out without buying herself fruit. Her language was a strange mixture of French, English, and German. She hated the French, and used to be very rude to them: they in return could not bear her; they used to call her a Prussian. Our dancing master once said, 'La Prusse est la plus vile de toutes les nations de l'Europe.' If Nannette cleaned a room, she used to throw a pail of water over the floor till the water ran into the passage. The French say themselves, that nothing has spoiled the servants like the Revolution: if anything offends them they will go off; and frequently choose to leave you when you have company, or some time when you most want them.

HEAT

_June 1st._--This day was excessively hot: the heat lasted just three days.

WATERWORKS

_June 3rd._--In the morning we were informed by the porter's wife that the waters were to play. In the afternoon we accordingly walked in the palace garden, and were very glad to find it was the case. The gardens were very full, as a great many people had come from Paris to see the waters play. Some of the large waterworks did not play, such as Neptune's Bath; and some of the others only partly. Latona's basin was beautiful; it was playing very little at first, but while we were looking at it all the frogs began to spout water, which formed a bower of water over Latona's head, and covered her and her children. The frogs, lizards, etc., at the bottom, spouted water the contrary way, which did not look so well. In the same basin at each side were two pipes, which sent out a column of water. Apollo's Bath was playing a little out of the horses' mouths. Two smaller pieces of water had a very good effect: in the middle was a _jet d'eau_; on each side of one was a lion tearing a wolf, and another lion killing a wild boar; on the other was a tiger tearing a bear, and a blood-hound killing a stag--out of the mouths of these figures came streams of water. The figures are bronze. One of the large waterworks, called Le Basin de l'Obélisque, consists of a number of pipes in imitation of reeds in the middle of the basin, which send out a column of water to the height of 75 feet: this waterwork was playing very little when we were there--it appeared like a basket of froth. Some of the smaller waters are quite as pretty as the large ones: one represents Ceres seated on some sheaves and surrounded by children. Another, a number of children, some holding masks, shells, and one a pair of bellows. The one that I liked best was a small basin, in the middle of which there is a little island which appears to be made of bronze: on this are six little children playing with flowers, and one on each side which seems to swim or float. Out of the island rises a column of water. The waters looked particularly pretty among the trees. There were a great many people in the gardens, and the variety of colours resembled a bed of tulips. Some of the people were very oddly dressed. One woman had on a most extraordinary cap composed of pink satin and very pretty lace; she had a gold chain round her neck, a white gown, and pink cotton apron. (Her cap was not at all common.) The French are very fond of colours, and put them on with very bad taste. We saw some people with perhaps a pink handkerchief, a blue sash, a coarse cotton gown, a yellow bonnet, and green shoes. We saw one lady in church with a yellow bonnet spotted with every colour; and another lady with one side of her bonnet one colour, and the other another colour. The ladies are in general very plain. We were told that a lady having tried to persuade an English gentleman that the French ladies were pretty, he took her to one of the great waterworks, where she could see ten thousand people, and told her that he would give her a gown worth five hundred francs if she could find three handsome women. The lady tried, but was obliged to acknowledge that she could not. The French women have not good figures: the old women are very fat, and the others are as flat as two boards.[18] Many of the ladies were attended by _bonnes_, some of whom were dressed more neatly than the French women generally are:--with light cotton gowns, muslin handkerchiefs, and caps trimmed with lace over blue or pink paper. The children that were with them were queer-looking little things. The French children are old-fashioned, dull, grave, and ugly: like little old women in their appearance. The babies are wrapt up in swaddling-clothes like mummies, and they wear queer little cotton hats. The nurses carry them very carefully hanging on their arms; they say that nursing them, or tossing them about, makes them mad. Some of the children have long hair hanging down their backs and little hats stuck on the tops of their heads and little ridicules in their hands. We stayed in the gardens this evening later than usual looking at the waters, which from the terrace had a very pretty effect.

COLD

_June 4th._--Our long-expected and much-dreaded hot weather has never arrived, but instead of it cold, wet weather. The French said it was an unusually bad season; they were quite _en colère_. It was this day quite a storm; from the quantity of rain which had fallen there was a little canal before the door; and as the dining-room was across the yard, we could hardly get to it in wet weather without getting our feet wet. I never felt anything so cold as it was in France. We used to sit shivering, wrapt up in shawls to try and keep ourselves warm. There were no grates; the fire was lighted on the hearth between two dogs, and we used to sit round it blowing the wood to try and make it burn: to make matters worse there were two holes, one on each side of the fireplace, apparently made to let the smoke into the room; these we were obliged to stuff with paper. It was as bad in bed, and though we had sent repeatedly, we could not get any quilts and only one cotton blanket to each bed. There were no carpets in the rooms; only bare stone floors, from which, besides being very cold, all the red came off on to our gowns. We were most of us sufficiently tired of France. I would have given anything in the world to get back to England, but we thought there was no chance of that for a long time. Every person was dismal: one got the rheumatism, another had a cold, another was ill, another had chilblains, and another was melancholy; and all said they would not grumble if they did not see other people grumble. I went from room to room, and could get no consolation. In spite of their spectacles and processions, there was a dulness in the streets and a want of life in the people: everything seemed to be creeping along and looking like oysters. The boys amused themselves with a swing; when the soldiers were exercising they used sometimes to look in at the garden gate to watch them. The servants were very dismal: they used often to say how much they had been mistaken in France, and what fine stories they would tell about it when they got back to Cumberland.

FRENCH SCHOOL

_June 11th._--This day Euphemia and I went for the first time to Madame Crosnier's. Catherine had gone for some time, and given us a very strange account of it; but notwithstanding all she had said, it was far worse than we had expected. There were twelve or fourteen English girls, three Miss Stephens whom we had formerly seen at Bath, where they did not look at all nice--they were here very well dressed and genteel-looking; Miss Fuller, a daughter of General Fuller, who had a French mamma, a complete little dandy; Miss Fitzgerald, who was a little plague; Miss Molyneux, a nice little girl who had been left there; Miss Julia Carpenter, and several others. The nicest were two Miss Wergs. The eldest was scarcely nine years old. They were sweet, pretty little girls, with good colours; they were a great contrast to the French girls beside them. Ellen Werg told me that they had come to France for their education, and that their papa liked it so much that they were never going home again; but that they and their mamma hated it. They used sometimes to cry when they heard the other girls talk of going home, and say, 'Oh, I wish I was going too!' We used often to see them at church; their papa was very crabbed-looking. They could not speak a word of French: they left school about the same time as I did without knowing a word more than when they came. Their mamma said it was such a ruinous school they should stay no longer. The French girls were the dirtiest, rudest set I ever saw. They wore very coarse dark cotton frocks or black petticoats, dirty blue or red aprons with pockets, spotted with ink, black worsted stockings, and listen shoes. Some of them had large bunches of keys hung by their sides, and others sashes and braces of broad scarlet galloon. One girl--Mademoiselle Rose--was so dirty, that even Madame Crosnier used to speak to her about it. She had on an old cotton frock bedaubed with ink, that did not meet by three or four inches; through the gap one saw a pair of dirty stays and an old striped worsted petticoat, and on the top of a frock there was a gauze frill hanging in rags. Her hair was matted with dirt. Some of the girls had pieces of green glass in their ears for earrings, black velvet round their head, and gilt combs with the teeth broken out stuck in their dirty, black, uncombed hair, which hung over their faces. Their skins were dirty and yellow. The neatest of these young ladies was a Mademoiselle Sélina--who was conceited-looking, and Mademoiselle Joséphine. The girls' manners were as elegant as themselves--they called each other names, and used the most vulgar words. If in school-time any of them were speaking, and their teacher reproved them, they answered, 'Vous mentez, Mademoiselle, vous êtes menteuse, je ne parle pas.' Indeed, if they were doing a thing all the time they were spoken to, they did not scruple to say they were not. There were, beside Madame Crosnier, Mademoiselle Allemagne, the first teacher; Mademoiselle Croissé, the drawing mistress, who also taught in the schoolroom; and Annette, a kind of half teacher, who had been one of the _young ladies_. I certainly never saw an English kitchen-maid dressed in the way she was. A dirty cap without a border, a black petticoat, a coarse blue gown tucked up like a bed-gown, a very coarse kind of linen apron, and shoes down at the heels, completed her dress. She used to go about with a broom sweeping the rooms. The girls took it by turns to clean the schoolrooms once every week. They used to tuck up their frocks, sweep the dirt into the _cabinet noir_ (or closet into which the litters were swept), and then throw a pail of water on the floor and mop it up. Miss Stephens used to call it her _malheureuse semaine_. The first morning we went earlier than usual, school had not begun, and a number of dirty girls were sitting or rather lying on the floor about the passages, looking like a set of gypsies. We went upstairs to the _salle de dessin_. Mademoiselle Croissé taught drawing. She was tall and sallow, and was reckoned pretty. She had a pair of staring black eyes, and a great deal of long black hair, which she seemed to admire very much, and used to bring in pieces of butter in a curl-paper and grease it beside us. She had done two very pretty drawings, which she kept to show. We sat down to our drawing. Mademoiselle Croissé drew us an eye for a copy and left us; we might do it or not, just as we pleased, she never looked near us. Little Miss Fitzgerald had been learning drawing for a great many months, but she had only drawn two or three sheets full all the time. Nearly every day that I was there she did not even get out her paper, but sat playing, talking, or running out of the room. Mademoiselle Croissé used sometimes to stand at the window, and if she happened to see a cat, she had such a dislike to the sight of cats that she was obliged to send one of the girls from their drawing to drive these animals away. At other times she was out of the room, or employed with her own drawing, so that she had hardly time to tell us how our drawings looked when we had done them. Once when we had just settled to our drawings (Mademoiselle Croissé absent as usual), in came two of the maids--'Mademoiselle, il faut sortir, car je vais baller la chambre'; we were therefore obliged to decamp. The servants were the rudest set I ever saw. Catherine had a music mistress, Mademoiselle Pascal; but she begged to have her no longer. One of the pianos would hardly sound, and they had no additional keys. The mistress did not seem to understand music very well, and she used to like heavy playing. I do not think it is any credit in the French masters being cheap; at least, from the specimens we saw here they got their money very easily. Monsieur le Chevalier, the writing master, came once or twice a week; he used to sit down at one end of the table, and never move; he had a curious squeaking voice. I could never find out what he did except mending pens, and those were so bad that we were obliged to get Madame Crosnier to mend them afterwards;-she also gave us the copies: he never saw what I had written the whole time. Euphemia one day said to one of the English girls, 'Pray, is that man sitting there, mending pens, called a writing master?' As for the dancing, it was quite a farce. We heard a great deal about the _salle de danse_, so we imagined it to be quite a fine place; but what did this beautiful _salle_ turn out to be, but a passage leading to the schoolroom, in which we hung up our hats, etc. There was not a chair in the place. It was to my astonishment that they could dance at all in such a hole as it was. Monsieur Bréton taught here. The girls dressed in the same elegant dresses as they generally wore, and we used often to hear them laughing, crying, and romping. Of course we did not learn.

FRENCH SCHOOL