Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume II

  CHAPTER IX. PARIS IN 1800

  A portion of the Luxembourg was devoted to the reception of the_compagnie d'elite_ for whom a household on the most liberal scale wasprovided, a splendid table maintained, and all that wealth and the tasteof a voluptuous age could suggest, procured, to make their life one ofdaily magnificence and pleasure. Daru himself, the especial favoriteof the Emperor, took the head of the table each day, to which generallysome of the ministers were invited; while the "Moniteur" of everymorning chronicled the festivities, giving _eclat_ to the most minutecircumstance, and making Paris re-echo to the glories of him ofwhose fame they were but the messengers. The most costly equipages,saddle-horses of great price, grooms in gorgeous liveries, all thatcould attract notice and admiration, were put in requisition; whileceremonies of pomp went forward day by day, and the deputation receivedin state the congratulatory visits of different departments of theGovernment.

  While thus this homage was paid to the semblance of Napoleon's glory,his progress through Germany was one grand triumphal procession. One daywe read of his arrival at Munich, whither the Empress had gone to meethim. There he was welcomed with the most frantic enthusiasm: he hadrestored to them their army almost without loss, and covered withlaurels; he had elevated their elector to a throne; while he cementedthe friendship between the two nations by the marriage of EugeneBeauharnais with the Princess of Bavaria. Another account would tellus of sixteen thousand Russian prisoners on their way to France,accompanied by two thousand cannon taken from the Austrians. Allthat could excite national enthusiasm and gratify national vanity wasdetailed by the Government press, and popular excitement raised to ahigher pitch than in the wildest periods of the Revolution.

  Hourly was his arrival looked forward to with anxiety and impatience.Fetes on the most splendid scale of magnificence were in preparation,and the public bodies of Paris held meetings to concert measures forhis triumphal reception. At last a telegraphic despatch announced hisarrival at Strasburg. He crossed the Rhine at the very place where,exactly one hundred days before, he passed over on his march againstthe Austrians; one hundred days of such glory as not even his career hadequalled,--Ulm and Austerlitz, vanquished Russia, and ruined Austria thetrophies of this brief space! Never had his genius shone with greatersplendor; never had Fortune shown herself 'more the companion of hisdestiny.

  Each hour was now counted, and every thought turned to the day when hemight be expected to arrive; and on the 24th came the intelligence thatthe Emperor was approaching Paris. He had halted part of a day at Nancyto review some regiments of cavalry, and now might be expected in lessthan twenty-four hours. The next morning all Paris awoke at an earlyhour; when what was the surprise and disappointment to see the greatflag floating from the pavilion of the Tuileries! His Majesty hadarrived during the night, when, at once sending for the Minister ofFinance, he proceeded, without taking a moment's repose, to examine intothe dreadful crisis which threatened the Bank of France and the veryexistence of the Government.

  At eleven, the Council of State were assembled at the Tuileries; andat twelve, a proclamation, dispersed through Paris, announced that M.Molien was appointed minister, and M. Marbois was dismissed from hisoffice. The rapidity of these changes, and the avoidance of all publichomage by the Emperor, threw for several days a cast of gloom over thewhole city; which was soon dissipated by the reappearance of Napoleon,and the publication of that celebrated report by M. Champagny in whichthe glories of France--her victories, her acquisitions in wealth,territory, and influence--were recited in terms whose adulation it wouldbe now difficult to digest.

  From that moment the festivities of Paris commenced, and with a splendorunsurpassed by any period of the Empire. It was the Augustan era ofNapoleon's life in all that concerned the fine arts; for literature,unhappily, did not flourish at any time beneath his reign. Gerard andGros, David, Ingres, and Isabey committed to canvas the glories of theGerman campaigns; and the capitulation of Ulm, the taking of Vienna,the passage of the Danube, and the field of Austerlitz still live in thegenius of these great painters.

  The Opera, too, under the direction of Gimerosa, had attained to anunwonted excellence; while Spontini and Boieldieu, in their separatewalks, gave origin to the school so distinctly that of the Comic Opera.Still, the voluptuous tastes of the day prevailed above all; and theballet, and the strange conceptions of Nicolo, a Maltese composer,--inwhich music, dancing, romance, and scenery all figured,--were thepassion of the time.

  Dancing was, indeed, the great art of the era. Vestris and Trenis werethe great names in every _salon_; and all the extravagant graces andvoluptuous groupings of the ballet were introduced into the amusementsof society: even the taste in dress was made subordinate to thispassion,--the light and floating materials, which mark the figure anddisplay symmetry, replacing the heavier and more costly robes of formertimes. The reaction to the stern puritanism of the Republican age hadset in, and secretly was favored by Napoleon himself; who saw in allthis extravagance and abandonment to pleasure the basis of that newsocial state on which he purposed to found his dynasty.

  Never were the entertainments at the Tuileries more costly; never wasa greater magnificence displayed in all the ceremonial of state. Themarshals of the Empire were enjoined to maintain a style correspondingto their exalted position; and the reports of the police were actuallystudied respecting such persons as lived in what was deemed a mannerunbefitting their means of expense. Cambaceres and Fouche, Talleyrandand Murat, all maintained splendid establishments. Their dinners weregiven twice each week, and their receptions were almost every evening.If the Emperor conferred wealth with a liberal hand, so did he expect tosee it freely expended. He knew well the importance of conciliating theaffections of the _bourgeoisie_ of Paris; and that by no other meanscould such an end be accomplished more readily than by a lavishexpenditure of money throughout all classes of society. This was alonewanting to efface every trace of the old Republican spirit. The simplehabits and uncostly tastes of the Jacobins were at once regarded asmeannesses; their frugal and unpretending modes of life pronounced lowand vulgar; and many, who could have opposed a stout heart againstthe current of popular feeling on stronger grounds, yielded to theinsinuations and mockeries of their own class, and conformed to tasteswhich eventually engendered opinions and even principles.

  I ask pardon of my reader for digressing from the immediate subject ofmy own career, to speak of topics which are rather the province of thehistorian than a mere story-teller like myself; still, I should not beable to present to his view the picture of manners I desired, withoutthus recalling some features of that time, so pregnant with the fate ofEurope and the future destiny of France. And now to return.

  Immediately on the Emperor's arrival, the Empress and her suite tooktheir departure for Versailles; from whence it was understood they werenot to return before the end of the month, for which time a splendidball was announced at the Tuileries. Unwilling to detain Generald'Auvergne's letter so long, and unable from the position I occupiedto obtain leave of absence from Paris, I forwarded the letter to thecomtesse, and abandoned the only hope of meeting her once more. Thedisappointment from this source; the novelty of the circumstances inwhich I found myself; the fascinations of a world altogether strangeto me,--all conspired to confuse and excite me, and I entered into thedissipation of those around me, if not with all their zest, at leastwith as headlong a resolution to drown all reflection in a life ofvoluptuous enjoyment.

  The only person of my own standing among the _compagnie d'elite_ was acaptain of the Chasseurs of the Guard, who, although but a few yearsmy senior, had seen service in the Italian campaign. By family aBour-bonist, he joined the revolutionary armies when his relatives fledfrom France, and slowly won his steps to his present rank. A certain_hauteur_ in his manner with men--an air of distance he always wore--hadmade him as little liked by them as it usually succeeds in making a manpopular with women, to whom the opposite seems at once a compliment.He was a man who had seen much of the world,
and in the best society;gifted with the most fascinating address, whenever he pleased to exertit, and singularly good-looking, he was the _beau ideal_ of the Frenchofficer of the highest class.

  The Chevalier Duchesne and myself had travelled together for somedays without exchanging more than the ordinary civilities of distantacquaintance, when some accident of the road threw us more closelytogether, and ended by forming an intimacy which, in our Paris life,brought us every hour into each other's society.

  Stranger as I was in the capital, to me the acquaintance was a boon ofgreat price. He knew it thoroughly: in the gorgeous and stately _salons_of the Faubourg; in the _guingettes_ of the Rue St. Denis; in the costlymansion of the modern banker (the new aristocracy of the land); or inthe homely _menage_ of the shopkeeper of the Rue St. Honore,--he wasequally at home, and by some strange charm had the _entree_ too.

  The same "sesame" opened to him the _coulisse_ of the Opera and thepenetralia of the Francais. In fact, he seemed one of those privilegedpeople who are met with occasionally in life in places the mostincongruous and with acquaintances the most opposite, yet never carryingthe prestige of the one or the other an inch beyond the precincts itbelongs to. Had he been wealthy I could have accounted for much of this,for never was there a period when riches more abounded nor when theirpower was more absolute: but he did not seem so; although in no want ofmoney, his retinue and simple style of living betrayed nothing beyondfair competence. Neither, as far as I could perceive, did he incline tohabits of extravagance; on the contrary, he was too apt to connect everydisplay with vulgarity, and condemn in his fastidiousness the gorgeoussplendor that characterized the period.

  Such, without going further, did Duchesne appear to be, as we took upour quarters at the Luxembourg, and commenced an intimacy which each dayserved to increase.

  "Well, thank Heaven, this vaudeville is over at last!" said he, as hethrew himself into a large chair at my fire, and pitched his chapeau,all covered with gold and embroidery, into a far corner of the room.

  We had just returned from Notre Dame, where the grand ceremonial ofreceiving the standards was held by the Senate with all the solemnity ofa high mass and the most imposing observances.

  "Vaudeville?" said I, turning round rapidly.

  "Yes; what else can you call it? What, I ask you, had those poordecrepit senators, those effeminate priests in the costumes of_beguines_, to do with the eagles of a brave but unfortunate army? Inwhat way can you connect that incense and that organ with the smoke ofartillery and the crash of mitraille? And, lastly, was it like oldDaru himself to stand there, half crouching, beside some wretchedhalf-palsied priest? But I feel heartily ashamed of myself, though Iplayed but the smallest part in the whole drama."

  "Is it thus you can speak of the triumph of our army? the glories--"

  "You mistake me much. I only speak of that miserable mockery whichconverts our hard-won laurels into chap-lets of artificial flowers.These displays are far beneath us, and would only become the victoriesof some national guard."

  "So, then," said I, half laughingly, "it is your Republican gorge thatrises against all this useless ceremonial?"

  "You are the very first ever detected me in that guise," said he,bursting into a hearty laugh. "But come, I'd wager you agree with meall this while. This was a very contemptible exhibition; and, for my ownpart, I 'd rather see the colors back again with those poor fellows wechased at Austerlitz, than fluttering in the imbecile hands of dotageand bigotry."

  "Then I must say we differ totally. I like to think of the warlikespirit nourished in a nation by the contemplation of such gloriousspoils. I am young enough to remember how the Invalides affected me--"

  "When you took your Sunday walk there from the Poly-technique, two andtwo, with a blue ribbon round your neck for being a good boy during theweek. Oh, I know it all; delicious times they were, with their souvenirsof wooden legs and plum-pudding. Happy fellow you must be, if thedelusion can last this while!"

  "You are determined it shall not continue much longer," said I,laughing; "that is quite evident."

  "No; on the contrary, I shall be but too happy to be your convert,instead of making you mine. But unfortunately, Sa Majeste, Empereur etRoi, has taught me some smart lessons since I gave up mathematics; and Ihave acquired a smattering of his own policy, which is to look afterthe substance, and leave the shadow--or the _drapeau_, if you like itbetter--to whoever pleases."

  "I confess, however," said I, "I don't well understand your enthusiasmabout war and your indifference about its trophies. To me theassociations they suggest are pleasurable beyond anything."

  "I think I remember something of that kind in myself formerly," said he,musing. "There was a time when the blast of a trumpet, or even the clankof a sabre, used to set my heart thumping. Happily, however, the organhas grown steeled against even more stirring sounds; and I listened tothe salute to-day, fired as it was by that imposing body, the artilleryof the 'Garde Nationale,' with an equanimity truly wonderful. Apropos,my dear Burke; talk of heroism and self-devotion as you will, but showme anything to compare with the gallantry of those fellows we saw to-dayon the Quai Voltaire,--a set of grocers, periwig-makers, umbrella andsausage men, with portly paunches and spectacles,--ramming down charges,sponging, loading, and firing real cannon. On my word of honor, it wasfearful."

  "They say his Majesty is very proud indeed of the National Guard ofParis."

  "Of course he is. Look at them, and just think what must be theenthusiasm of men who will adopt a career so repugnant, not only totheir fancy, but their very formation. Remember that he who runsyonder with a twenty-four pounder never handled anything heavier than awig-block, and that the only charges of the little man beside him havebeen made in his day-book. By Saint Denis! the dromedary guard we hadin Egypt were more at home in their saddles than the squadron who rodebeside the archbishop's carriage."

  "It is scarcely fair, after all," said I, half laughing, "tocriticise them so severely; and the more, as I think you had some oldacquaintances among them."

  "Ha! you saw that, did you?" said he, smiling. "No, by Jove! I never metthem before. But that _confrerie_ of soldiers--you understand--soon madeus acquainted; and I saw one old fellow speaking to a very pretty girl Iguessed to be his daughter, and soon cemented a small friendship withhim: here's his card."

  "His card! Why, are you to visit him?"

  "Better again; I shall dine there on Monday next. Let us see how hecalls himself: 'Hippolyte Pierrot, stay and corset-maker to her Majestythe Empress, No. 22 Rue du Bac,--third floor above the _entresol._'_Diable!_ we 're high up. Unfortunately, I am scarcely intimate enoughto bring a friend."

  "Oh, make no excuses on that head," said I, laughing; "I really have nodesire to see Monsieur Hippolyte Pierrot's _menage_. And now, what areyour engagements for this evening? Are you for the Opera?"

  "I don't well know," said he, pausing. "Madame Caulaincourt receives,and of course expects to see our gay jackets in her _salon_ any timebefore or after supper. Then there's the Comtesse de Nevers: I never gothere without meeting my tailor; the fellow's a spy of the police, anda confectioner to boot, and he serves the ices, and reports theconversations in the Place Vendome and that side of the Rue St.Honore,--I couldn't take a glass of lemonade without being dunned. Then,in the Faubourg I must go in plain clothes,--they would not let the'livery of the Usurper' pass the porter's lodge; besides, they worry onewith their enthusiastic joy or grief,--as the last letter from Englandmentions whether the Comte d'Artois has eaten too many oysters, or foundLondon beer too strong for him."

  "From all which I guess that you are indisposed to stir."

  "I believe that is about the fact. Truth is, Burke, there is only onesoiree in all Paris I 'd take the trouble to dress for this evening;and, strange enough, it's the only house where I don't know the people.He is a commissary-general, or a 'fournisseur' of some kind or other ofthe army; always from home, they say; with a wife who was once, and adaughter who is now, exceeding pretty; keeps
a splendid house; and, likean honest man, makes restitution of all he can cheat in the campaign bygiving good dinners in the capital. His Majesty, at the solicitation ofthe Empress, I believe, made him a count,--God's mercy it was not aking!--and as they come from Guadaloupe, or Otaheite, no one disputestheir right. Besides, this is not a time for such punctilio. This is allI know of them, for unfortunately they settled here since I joined thearmy."

  "And the name?"

  "Oh, a very plausible name, I assure you. Lacostellerie,--Madame laComtesse de Lacostellerie."

  "By Jove! you remind me I have letters for her,--a circumstance I hadtotally forgotten, though it was coupled with a commission."

  "A letter! Why, nothing was ever so fortunate. Don't lose a moment; youhave just time to leave it, with your card, before dinner. You'll havean invitation for this evening at once."

  "But I have not the slightest wish."

  "No matter, _I_ have; and you shall bring me."

  "You forget," said I, mimicking his own words, "I am unfortunately notintimate enough."

  "As to that," replied he, "there is a vast difference between theetiquette Rue du Bac, No. 22, three floors above the _entresol_, and thegorgeous _salons_ of the Hotel Clichy, Rue Faubourg St. Honore; ceremonyhas the advantage in the former by a height of three pair of stairs, notto speak of the _entresol_."

  "But I don't know the people."

  "Nor I."

  "But how am I to present you?"

  "Easily enough,--'Captain Duchesne, Imperial Guard;' or, if you preferit, I 'll do the honors for _you_."

  "With all my heart, then," said I, laughing; and pre-pared to pay thevisit in question.