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diff --git a/old/10813-h/10813-h.htm b/old/10813-h/10813-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f219ea --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10813-h/10813-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3800 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=us-ascii"> + <meta content="pg2html (binary version 0.12a)" name= + "generator"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Versailles Christmas-tide, + by Mary Stuart Boyd. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times; + } + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> + </style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Versailles Christmas-Tide +[Date last updated: December 22, 2004] + +Author: Mary Stuart Boyd + +Release Date: January 23, 2004 [EBook #10813] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Karen Robinson, David Garcia and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <center> + <img src="cover.png" width="500" height="260" alt= + "Front Cover"> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h1> + A Versailles Christmas-tide + </h1> + <center> + <b>By</b> + </center> + <center> + <b>Mary Stuart Boyd</b><br> + With Fifty-three Illustrations by<br> + <b>A.S. Boyd</b><br> + 1901 + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <center> + <img src="vxinset.png" width="150" height="163" alt=""> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <hr> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH01">Chapter I—The Unexpected Happens</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH02">Chapter II—Ogams</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH03">Chapter III—The Town</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH04">Chapter IV—Our Arbre de Noël</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH05">Chapter V—Le Jour de + l'Année</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH06">Chapter VI—Ice-bound</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH07">Chapter VII—The Haunted + Château</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH08">Chapter VIII—Marie Antoinette</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2HCH09">Chapter IX—The Prisoners Released</a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + Illustrations + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-01">The Summons</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-02">Storm Warning</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-03">Treasure Trove</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-04">The Red Cross in the Window</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-05">Enter M. Le Docteur</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-06">Perpetual Motion</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-07">Ursa Major</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-08">Meal Considerations</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-09">The Two Colonels</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-10">The Young and Brave</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-11">Malcontent</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-12">The Aristocrat</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-13">Papa, Mama et Bébé</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-14">Juvenile Progress</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-15">Automoblesse Oblige</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-16">Sable Garb</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-17">A Football Team</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-18">Mistress and Maid</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-19">Sage and Onions</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-20">Marketing</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-21">Private Boxes</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-22">A Foraging Party</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-23">A Thriving Merchant</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-24">Chestnuts in the Avenue</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-25">The Tree Vendor</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-26">The Tree-bearer</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-27">Rosine</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-28">Alms and the Lady</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-29">Adoration</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-30">Thankfulness</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-31">One of the Devout</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-32">De L'eau Chaude</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-33">The Mill</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-34">The Presbytery</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-35">To the Place of Rest</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-36">While the Frost Holds</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-37">The Postman's Wrap</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-38">A Lapful of Warmth</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-39">The Daily Round</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-40">Three Babes and a Bonne</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-41">Snow in the Park</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-42">A Veteran of the Chateau</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-43">Un—Deux—Trois</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-44">The Bedchamber of Louis Xiv</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-45">Marie Leczinska</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-46">Madame Adelaide</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-47">Louis Quatorze</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-48">Where the Queen Played</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-49">Marie Antoinette</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-50">The Secret Stair</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-51">Madame Sans Tête</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-52">Illumination</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#image-53">L'Envoi</a> + </p><a name="2HCH01"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS + </h3><a name="image-01"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx08.png" width="250" height="452" alt= + "The Summons" align="left"> + </center> + <p> + No project could have been less foreseen than was ours of + wintering in France, though it must be confessed that for + several months our thoughts had constantly strayed across the + Channel. For the Boy was at school at Versailles, banished + there by our desire to fulfil a parental duty. + </p> + <p> + The time of separation had dragged tardily past, until one + foggy December morning we awoke to the glad consciousness + that that very evening the Boy would be with us again. Across + the breakfast-table we kept saying to each other, "It seems + scarcely possible that the Boy is really coming home + to-night," but all the while we hugged the assurance that it + was. + </p> + <p> + The Boy is an ordinary snub-nosed, shock-headed urchin of + thirteen, with no special claim to distinction save the + negative one of being an only child. Yet without his cheerful + presence our home seemed empty and dull. Any attempts at + merry-making failed to restore its life. Now all was agog for + his return. The house was in its most festive trim. Christmas + presents were hidden securely away. There was rejoicing + downstairs as well as up: the larder shelves were stored with + seasonable fare, and every bit of copper and brass sparkled a + welcome. Even the kitchen cat sported a ribbon, and had a + specially energetic purr ready. + </p> + <p> + Into the midst of our happy preparations the bad news fell + with bomb-like suddenness. The messenger who brought the + telegram whistled shrilly and shuffled a breakdown on the + doorstep while he waited to hear if there was an answer. + </p> + <p> + "He is ill. He can't come. Scarlet fever," one of us said in + an odd, flat voice. + </p> + <p> + "Scarlet fever. At school. Oh! when can we go to him? When is + there a boat?" cried the other. + </p> + <p> + There was no question of expediency. The Boy lay sick in a + foreign land, so we went to him. It was full noon when the + news came, and nightfall saw us dashing through the murk of a + wild mid-December night towards Dover pier, feeling that only + the express speed of the mail train was quick enough for us + to breathe in. + </p> + <p> + But even the most apprehensive of journeys may hold its + humours. Just at the moment of starting anxious friends + assisted a young lady into our carriage. "She was going to + Marseilles. Would we kindly see that she got on all right?" + We were only going as far as Paris direct. "Well, then, as + far as Paris. It would be a great favour." So from Charing + Cross to the Gare du Nord, Placidia, as we christened her, + became our care. + </p> + <p> + She was a large, handsome girl of about three-and-twenty. + What was her reason for journeying unattended to Cairo we + know not. Whether she ever reached her destination we are + still in doubt, for a more complacently incapable damsel + never went a-voyaging. The Saracen maiden who followed her + English lover from the Holy Land by crying "London" and + "À Becket" was scarce so impotent as Placidia; for any + information the Saracen maiden had she retained, while + Placidia naively admitted that she had already forgotten by + which line of steamers her passage through the Mediterranean + had been taken. + </p> + <p> + Placidia had an irrational way of losing her possessions. + While yet on her way to the London railway station she had + lost her tam-o'-shanter. So perforce, she travelled in a + large picture-hat which, although pretty and becoming, was + hardly suitable headgear for channel-crossing in mid-winter. + </p><a name="image-02"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx10.png" width="400" height="479" alt= + "Storm Warning"> + </center> + <p> + It was a wild night; wet, with a rising north-west gale. + Tarpaulined porters swung themselves on to the carriage-steps + as we drew up at Dover pier, and warned us not to leave the + train, as, owing to the storm, the Calais boat would be an + hour late in getting alongside. + </p> + <p> + The Ostend packet, lying beside the quay in full sight of the + travellers, lurched giddily at her moorings. The fourth + occupant of our compartment, a sallow man with yellow + whiskers, turned green with apprehension. Not so Placidia. + From amongst her chaotic hand-baggage she extracted walnuts + and mandarin oranges, and began eating with an appetite that + was a direct challenge to the Channel. Bravery or + foolhardiness could go no farther. + </p> + <p> + Providence tempers the wind to the parents who are shorn of + their lamb. The tumult of waters left us scatheless, but poor + Placidia early paid the penalty of her rashness. She + "thought" she was a good sailor—though she acknowledged + that this was her first sea-trip—and elected to remain + on deck. But before the harbour lights had faded behind us a + sympathetic mariner supported her limp form—the + feathers of her incongruous hat drooping in unison with their + owner—down the swaying cabin staircase and deposited + her on a couch. + </p> + <p> + "Oh! I do wish I hadn't eaten that fruit," she groaned when I + offered her smelling-salts. "But then, you know, I was so + hungry!" + </p> + <p> + In the <i>train rapide</i> a little later, Placidia, when + arranging her wraps for the night journey, chanced, among the + medley of her belongings, upon a missing boat-ticket whose + absence at the proper time had threatened complications. She + burst into good-humoured laughter at the discovery. "Why, + here's the ticket that man made all the fuss about. I really + thought he wasn't going to let me land till I found it. Now, + I do wonder how it got among my rugs?" + </p> + <p> + We seemed to be awake all night, staring with wide, unseeing + eyes out into the darkness. Yet the chill before dawn found + us blinking sleepily at a blue-bloused porter who, throwing + open the carriage door, curtly announced that we were in + Paris. + </p> + <p> + Then followed a fruitless search for Placidia's luggage, a + hunt which was closed by Placidia recovering her registration + ticket (with a fragment of candy adhering to it) from one of + the multifarious pockets of her ulster, and finding that the + luggage had been registered on to Marseilles. "Will they + charge duty on tobacco?" she inquired blandly, as she watched + the Customs examination of our things. "I've such a lot of + cigars in my boxes." + </p> + <p> + There was an Old-Man-of-the-Sea-like tenacity in Placidia's + smiling impuissance. She did not know one syllable of French. + A new-born babe could not have revealed itself more utterly + incompetent. I verily believe that, despite our haste, we + would have ended by escorting Placidia across Paris, and + ensconcing her in the Marseilles train, had not Providence + intervened in the person of a kindly disposed polyglot + traveller. So, leaving Placidia standing the picture of + complacent fatuosity in the midst of a group consisting of + this new champion and three porters, we sneaked away. + </p><a name="image-03"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx12.png" width="250" height="328" align="right" + alt="Treasure Trove"> + </center> + <p> + Grey dawn was breaking as we drove towards St. Lazare + Station, and the daily life of the city was well begun. + Lights were twinkling in the dark interiors of the shops. + Through the mysterious atmosphere figures loomed mistily, + then vanished into the gloom. But we got no more than a vague + impression of our surroundings. Throughout the interminable + length of drive across the city, and the subsequent slow + train journey, our thoughts were ever in advance. + </p> + <p> + The tardy winter daylight had scarcely come before we were + jolting in a <i>fiacre</i> over the stony streets of + Versailles. In the gutters, crones were eagerly rummaging + among the dust heaps that awaited removal. In France no + degradation attaches to open economies. Housewives on their + way to fetch Gargantuan loaves or tiny bottles of milk for + the matutinal <i>café-au-lait</i> cast searching + glances as they passed, to see if among the rubbish something + of use to them might not be lurking. And at one alluring + mound an old gentleman of absurdly respectable exterior + perfunctorily turned over the scraps with the point of his + cane. + </p> + <p> + We had heard of a hotel, and the first thing we saw of it we + liked. That was a pair of sabots on the mat at the foot of + the staircase. Pausing only to remove the dust of travel, we + set off to visit our son, walking with timorous haste along + the grand old avenue where the school was situated. A little + casement window to the left of the wide entrance-door showed + a red cross. We looked at it silently, wondering. + </p><a name="image-04"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx13.png" width="250" height="348" align="left" + alt="The Red Cross in the Window"> + </center> + <p> + In response to our ring the portal opened mysteriously at + touch of the unseen concierge, and we entered. A conference + with Monsieur le Directeur, kindly, voluble, tactfully + complimentary regarding our halting French, followed. The + interview over, we crossed the courtyard our hearts beating + quickly. At the top of a little flight of worn stone steps + was the door of the school hospital, and under the ivy-twined + trellis stood a sweet-faced Franciscan Soeur, waiting to + welcome us. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="image-05"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx14.png" width="400" height="683" alt= + "Enter M. Le Docteur"> + </center> + <p> + Passing through a tiny outer room—an odd combination of + dispensary, kitchen, and drawing-room with a red-tiled + floor—we reached the sick-chamber, and saw the Boy. A + young compatriot, also a victim of the disease, occupied + another bed, but for the first moments we were oblivious of + his presence. Raising his fever-flushed face from the + pillows, the Boy eagerly stretched out his burning hands. + </p> + <p> + "I heard your voices," his hoarse voice murmured contentedly, + "and I knew <i>you</i> couldn't be ghosts." Poor child! in + the semidarkness of the lonely night-hours phantom voices had + haunted him. We of the morning were real. + </p> + <p> + The good Soeur buzzed a mild frenzy of "Il ne faut pas + toucher" about our ears, but, all unheeding, we clasped the + hot hands and crooned over him. After the dreary months of + separation, love overruled wisdom. Mere prudence was not + strong enough to keep us apart. + </p> + <p> + Chief amongst the chaos of thoughts that had assailed us on + the reception of the bad news, was the necessity of engaging + an English medical man. But at the first sight of the French + doctor, as, clad in a long overall of white cotton, he + entered the sick-room, our insular prejudice vanished, ousted + by complete confidence; a confidence that our future + experience of his professional skill and personal kindliness + only strengthened. + </p> + <p> + It was with sore hearts that, the prescribed <i>cinq + minutes</i> ended, we descended the little outside stair. + Still, we had seen the Boy; and though we could not nurse + him, we were not forbidden to visit him. So we were thankful + too. + </p><a name="2HCH02"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + OGAMS + </h3><a name="image-06"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx16.png" width="250" height="312" align="left" + alt="Perpetual Motion"> + </center> + <p> + Our hotel was distinctively French, and immensely + comfortable, in that it had gleaned, and still retained, the + creature comforts of a century or two. Thus it combined the + luxuries of hot-air radiators and electric light with the + enchantment of open wood fires. Viewed externally, the + building presented that airy aspect almost universal in + Versailles architecture. It was white-tinted, with many + windows shuttered without and heavily lace-draped within. + </p> + <p> + A wide entrance led to the inner courtyard, where orange + trees in green tubs, and trelliswork with shrivelled stems + and leaves still adhering, suggested that it would be a + pleasant summer lounge. Our hotel boasted a <i>grand + salon</i>, which opened from the courtyard. It was an + elaborately ornate room; but on a chilly December day even a + plethora of embellishment cannot be trusted to raise by a + single degree the temperature of the apartment it adorns, and + the soul turns from a cold hearth, however radiant its + garnish of artificial blossoms. A private parlour was + scarcely necessary, for, with most French bedrooms, ours + shared the composite nature of the accommodation known in a + certain class of advertisement as "bed-sitting-room." So it + was that during these winter days we made ourselves at home + in our chamber. + </p> + <p> + The shape of the room was a geometrical problem. The three + windows each revealed different views, and the remainder of + the walls curved amazingly. At first sight the furniture + consisted mainly of draperies and looking-glass; for the + room, though of ordinary dimensions, owned three large + mirrors and nine pairs of curtains. A stately bed, endowed + with a huge square down pillow, which served as quilt, stood + in a corner. Two armchairs in brocaded velvet and a centre + table were additions to the customary articles. A handsome + timepiece and a quartette of begilt candelabra decked the + white marble mantelpiece, and were duplicated in the large + pier glass. The floor was of well-polished wood, a strip of + bright-hued carpet before the bed, a second before the + washstand, its only coverings. Need I say that the provision + for ablutions was one basin and a liliputian ewer, and that + there was not a fixed bath in the establishment? + </p> + <p> + It was a resting-place full of incongruities; but apart from, + or perhaps because of, its oddities it had a cosy + attractiveness. From the moment of our entrance we felt at + home. I think the logs that purred and crackled on the hearth + had much to do with its air of welcome. There is a sense of + companionship about a wood fire that more enduring coal + lacks. Like a delicate child, the very care it demands + nurtures your affection. There was something delightfully + foreign and picturesque to our town ideas in the heap of logs + that Karl carried up in a great <i>panier</i> and piled at + the side of the hearth. Even the little faggots of kindling + wood, willow-knotted and with the dry copper-tinted leaves + still clinging to the twigs, had a rustic charm. + </p> + <p> + These were pleasant moments when, ascending from the chill + outer air, we found our chamber aglow with ruddy firelight + that glinted in the mirrors and sparkled on the shining + surface of the polished floor; when we drew our chairs up to + the hearth, and, scorning the electric light, revelled in the + beauty of the leaping and darting flames. + </p> + <p> + It was only in the <i>salle-à-manger</i> that we saw + the other occupants of the hotel; and when we learned that + several of them had lived <i>en pension</i> under the roof of + the assiduous proprietor for periods varying from five to + seven years, we felt ephemeral, mere creatures of a moment, + and wholly unworthy of regard. + </p><a name="image-07"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx18.png" width="165" height="438" align="right" + alt="Ursa Major"> + </center> + <p> + At eight o'clock Karl brought the <i>petit + déjeûner</i> of coffee and rolls to our room. At + eleven, our morning visit to the school hospital over, we + breakfasted in the <i>salle-à-manger</i>, a large + bright room, one or other of whose many south windows had + almost daily, even in the depth of winter, to be shaded + against the rays of the sun. Three chandeliers of glittering + crystal starred with electric lights depended from the + ceiling. Half a dozen small tables stood down each side; four + larger ones occupied the centre of the floor, and were + reserved for transient custom. + </p> + <p> + The first thing that struck us as peculiar was that every + table save ours was laid for a single person, with a half + bottle of wine, red or white, placed ready, in accordance + with the known preference of the expected guest. We soon + gathered that several of the regular customers lodged outside + and, according to the French fashion, visited the hotel for + meals only. After the early days of keen anxiety regarding + our invalid had passed, we began to study our fellow guests + individually and to note their idiosyncrasies. Sitting at our + allotted table during the progress of the leisurely meals, we + used to watch as one <i>habitué</i> after another + entered, and, hanging coat and hat upon certain pegs, sat + silently down in his accustomed place, with an unvarying air + of calm deliberation. + </p> + <p> + Then Iorson, the swift-footed <i>garçon</i>, would + skim over the polished boards to the newcomer, and, tendering + the menu, would wait, pencil in hand, until the guest, after + careful contemplation, selected his five <i>plats</i> from + its comprehensive list. + </p><a name="image-08"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx19.png" width="250" height="289" align="left" + alt="Meal Considerations"> + </center> + <p> + The most picturesque man of the company had white moustaches + of surprising length. On cold days he appeared enveloped in a + fur coat, a garment of shaggy brown which, in conjunction + with his hirsute countenance, made his aspect suggest the + hero in pantomime renderings of "Beauty and the Beast." But + in our hotel there was no Beauty, unless indeed it were + Yvette, and Yvette could hardly be termed beautiful. + </p> + <p> + Yvette also lived outside. She did not come to + <i>déjeûner</i>, but every night precisely at a + quarter-past seven the farther door would open, and Yvette, + her face expressing disgust with the world and all the things + thereof, would enter. + </p> + <p> + Yvette was blonde, with neat little features, a pale + complexion, and tiny hands that were always ringless. She + rang the changes on half a dozen handsome cloaks of different + degrees of warmth. To an intelligent observer their wear + might have served as a thermometer. Yvette was + <i>blasée</i>, and her millinery was in sympathy with + her feelings. Her hats had all a fringe of disconsolate + feathers, whose melancholy plumage emphasised the downward + curve of her mouth. To see Yvette enter from the darkness + and, seating herself at her solitary table, droop over her + plate as though there were nothing in Versailles worth + sitting upright for, was to view <i>ennui</i> personified. + </p> + <p> + Yvette invariably drank white wine, and the food rarely + pleased her. She would cast a contemptuous look over the menu + offered by the deferential Henri, then turn wearily away, + esteeming that no item on its length merited even her most + perfunctory consideration. But after one or two despondent + glances, Yvette ever made the best of a bad bargain, and + ordered quite a comprehensive little dinner, which she ate + with the same air of utter disdain. She always concluded by + eating an orange dipped in sugar. Even had a special table + not been reserved for her, one could have told where Yvette + had dined by the bowl of powdered sugar, just as one could + have located the man with the fierce moustaches and the fur + coat by the presence of his pepper-mill, or the place of + "Madame" from her prodigal habit of rending a quarter-yard of + the crusty French bread in twain and consuming only the soft + inside. + </p> + <p> + From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged + the French a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily + convinced us of the fallacy of that belief. Nothing could + have impressed us so forcibly as did the frigid silence that + characterised the company. Many of them had fed there daily + for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room none + exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a + people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and + voluble made us almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and + when, in the presence of the silent company, we were tempted + to exchange remarks, we found ourselves doing it in hushed + voices as though we were in church. + </p> + <p> + A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some + unspoken convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of + each other's presence while indoors, beyond the hotel walls + they might hold communion. Two retired military men, both + wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of Honour, as indeed did + most of our <i>habitués</i>, sat at adjacent tables. + One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and + neat, a Colonel also. To the casual gaze they appeared + complete strangers, and we had consumed many meals in their + society before observing that whenever the tall Colonel had + sucked the last cerise from his glass of <i>eau-de-vie</i>, + and begun to fold his napkin—a formidable task, for the + serviettes fully deserved the designation later bestowed on + them by the Boy, of "young table-cloths"—the little + Colonel made haste to fold his also. Both rose from their + chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having received + their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute, + into the darkness together. + </p><a name="image-09"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx21.png" width="400" height="416" alt= + "The Two Colonels"> + </center> + <p> + Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his + napkin in its ring without waiting for the signal from the + tall Colonel. But our apprehension that they, in their + dealings in that mysterious outer world which twice daily + they sought together, might have fallen into a difference of + opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had risen, + stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the + tall Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from <i>Le Journal + des Débats</i> which he was reading, silently pressed. + Then, still without a word spoken or a look exchanged, the + little Colonel passed out alone. + </p><a name="image-10"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx22.png" width="250" height="290" align="right" + alt="The Young and Brave"> + </center> + <p> + The average age of the Ogams was seventy. True, there was + Dunois the Young and Brave, who could not have been more than + forty-five. What his name really was we knew not, but + something in his comparatively juvenile appearance among the + chevaliers suggested the appellation which for lack of a + better we retained. Dunois' youth might only be comparative, + but his bravery was indubitable; for who among the Ogams but + he was daring enough to tackle the + <i>pâté-de-foie-gras</i>, or the <i>abattis</i>, + a stew composed of the gizzards and livers of fowls? And who + but Dunois would have been so reckless as to follow baked + mussels and <i>crépinettes</i> with <i>rognons + frits</i>? + </p> + <p> + Dunois, too, revealed intrepid leanings toward strange + liquors. Sometimes—it was usually at + <i>déjeûner</i> when he had dined out on the previous + evening—he would demand the wine-list of Iorson, and + rejecting the <i>vin blanc</i> or <i>vin rouge</i> which, + being <i>compris</i>, contented the others, would order + himself something of a choice brand. One of his favourite + papers was <i>Le Rire</i>, and Henri, Iorson's youthful + assistant, regarded him with admiration. + </p><a name="image-11"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx23.png" width="250" height="241" align="left" + alt="Malcontent"> + </center> + <p> + A less attractive presence in the dining-room was Madame. + Madame, who was an elderly dame of elephantine girth, had + resided in the hotel for half a dozen years, during which + period her sole exercise had been taken in slowly descending + from her chamber in the upper regions for her meals, and + then, leisurely assimilation completed, in yet more slowly + ascending. Madame's allotted seat was placed in close + proximity to the hot-air register; and though Madame was + usually one of the first to enter the dining-room, she was + generally the last to leave. Madame's appetite was as + animated as her body was lethargic. She always drank her + half-bottle of red wine to the dregs, and she invariably + concluded with a greengage in brandy. So it was small marvel + that, when at last she left her chair to "tortoise" upstairs, + her complexion should be two shades darker than when she + descended. + </p> + <p> + Five dishes, irrespective of <i>hors d'oeuvres</i> at + luncheon, and <i>potage</i> at dinner, were allowed each + guest, and Madame's selection was an affair of time. Our + hotel was justly noted for its <i>cuisine</i>, yet on + infrequent occasions the food supplied to Madame was not to + her mind. At these times the whole establishment suffered + until the irascible old lady's taste was suited. One night at + dinner Iorson had the misfortune to serve Madame with some + turkey that failed to meet with her approval. With the air of + an insulted empress, Madame ordered its removal. The + conciliatory Iorson obediently carried off the dish and + speedily returned, bearing what professed to be another + portion. But from the glimpse we got as it passed our table + we had a shrewd suspicion that Iorson the wily had merely + turned over the piece of turkey and re-served it with a + little more gravy and an additional dressing of + <i>cressons</i>. Madame, it transpired, shared our + suspicions, for this portion also she declined, with renewed + indignation. Then followed a long period of waiting, wherein + Madame, fidgeting restlessly on her seat, kept fierce eyes + fixed on the door through which the viands entered. + </p> + <p> + Just as her impatience threatened to vent itself in action, + Iorson appeared bearing a third helping of turkey. Placing it + before the irate lady, he fled as though determined to debar + a third repudiation. For a moment an air of triumph pervaded + Madame's features. Then she began to gesticulate violently, + with the evident intention of again attracting Iorson's + notice. But the forbearance even of the diplomatic Iorson was + at an end. Re-doubling his attentions to the diners at the + farther side of the room, he remained resolutely unconscious + of Madame's signals, which were rapidly becoming frantic. + </p> + <p> + The less sophisticated Henri, however, feeling a boyish + interest in the little comedy, could not resist a curious + glance in Madame's direction. That was sufficient. Waving + imperiously, Madame compelled his approach, and, moving + reluctantly, fearful of the issue, Henri advanced. + </p> + <p> + "Couteau!" hissed Madame. Henri flew to fetch the desired + implement, and, realising that Madame had at last been + satisfied, we again breathed freely. + </p><a name="image-12"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx25.png" width="250" height="381" align="left" + alt="The Aristocrat"> + </center> + <p> + A more attractive personage was a typical old aristocrat, + officer of the Legion of Honour, who used to enter, walk with + great dignity to his table, eat sparingly of one or two + dishes, drink a glass of his <i>vin ordinaire</i> and retire. + Sometimes he was accompanied by a tiny spaniel, which + occupied a chair beside him; and frequently a middle-aged + son, whose bourgeois appearance was in amazing contrast to + that of his refined old father, attended him. + </p> + <p> + There were others, less interesting perhaps, but equally + self-absorbed. One afternoon, entering the cable car that + runs—for fun, apparently, as it rarely boasted a + passenger—to and from the Trianon, we recognised in its + sole occupant an Ogam who during the weeks of our stay had + eaten, in evident oblivion of his human surroundings, at the + table next to ours. Forgetting that we were without the walls + of silence, we expected no greeting; but to our amazement he + rose, and, placing himself opposite us, conversed affably and + in most excellent English for the rest of the journey. To + speak with him was to discover a courteous and travelled + gentleman. Yet during our stay in Versailles we never knew + him exchange even a bow with any of his fellow Ogams, who + were men of like qualifications, though, as he told us, he + had taken his meals in the hotel for over five years. + </p> + <p> + Early in the year our peace was rudely broken by the advent + of a commercial man—a short, grey-haired being of an + activity so foreign to our usage that a feeling of unrest was + imparted to the <i>salle-à-manger</i> throughout his + stay. His movements were distractingly erratic. In his + opinion, meals were things to be treated casually, to be + consumed haphazard at any hour that chanced to suit. He did + not enter the dining-room at the exact moment each day as did + the Ogams. He would rush in, throw his hat on a peg, devour + some food with unseemly haste, and depart in less time than + it took the others to reach the <i>légumes</i>. + </p><a name="image-13"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx26.png" width="400" height="465" alt= + "Papa, Mama et Bébé"> + </center> + <p> + He was hospitable too, and had a disconcerting way of + inviting guests to luncheon or dinner, and then forgetting + that he had done so. One morning a stranger entered, and + after a brief conference with Iorson, was conducted to the + commercial man's table to await his arrival. The regular + customers took their wonted places, and began in their + leisurely fashion to breakfast, and still the visitor sat + alone, starting up expectantly every time a door opened, then + despondently resuming his seat. + </p> + <p> + At last Iorson, taking compassion, urged the neglected guest + to while away his period of waiting by trifling with the + <i>hors-d'oeuvres</i>. He was proceeding to allay the pangs + of hunger with selections from the tray of anchovies, + sardines, pickled beet, and sliced sausage, when his host + entered, voluble and irrepressible as ever. The dignified + Ogams shuddered inwardly as his strident voice awoke the + echoes of the room, and their already stiff limbs became + rigid with disapproval. + </p> + <p> + In winter, transient visitors but rarely occupied one or + other of the square centre tables, though not infrequently a + proud father and mother who had come to visit a soldier son + at the barracks, brought him to the hotel for a meal, and for + a space the radiance of blue and scarlet and the glint of + steel cast a military glamour over the staid company. + </p> + <p> + An amusing little circumstance to us onlookers was that + although the supply of cooked food seemed equal to any + demand, the arrival of even a trio of unexpected guests to + dinner invariably caused a dearth of bread. For on their + advent Iorson would dash out bareheaded into the night, to + reappear in an incredibly short time carrying a loaf nearly + as tall as himself. + </p> + <p> + One morning a stalwart young Briton brought to breakfast a + pretty English cousin, on leave of absence from her + boarding-school. His knowledge of French was limited. When + anything was wanted he shouted "Garçon!" in a lordly + voice, but it was the pretty cousin who gave the order. + <i>Déjeûner</i> over, they departed in the + direction of the Château. And at sunset as we chanced + to stroll along the Boulevard de la Reine, we saw the pretty + cousin, all the gaiety fled from her face, bidding her escort + farewell at the gate of a Pension pour Demoiselles. The ball + was over. Poor little Cinderella was perforce returning to + the dust and ashes of learning. + </p><a name="2HCH03"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="image-14"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx28.png" width="500" height="343" alt= + "Juvenile Progress"> + </center> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + THE TOWN + </h3> + <p> + The English-speaking traveller finds Versailles vastly more + foreign than the Antipodes. He may voyage for many weeks, and + at each distant stopping-place find his own tongue spoken + around him, and his conventions governing society. But let + him leave London one night, cross the Channel at its + narrowest—and most turbulent—and sunrise will + find him an alien in a land whose denizens differ from him in + language, temperament, dress, food, manners, and customs. + </p> + <p> + Of a former visit to Versailles we had retained little more + than the usual tourist's recollection of a hurried run + through a palace of fatiguing magnificence, a confusing peep + at the Trianons, a glance around the gorgeous state + equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of the open-air + <i>cafés</i>, and a scamper back to Paris. But our + winter residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the + existence of a life that is all its own—a life widely + variant, in its calm repose, from the bustle and gaiety of + the capital, but one that is replete with charm, and + abounding in picturesque-interest. + </p><a name="image-15"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx29.png" width="400" height="480" alt= + "Automoblesse Oblige"> + </center> + <p> + Versailles is not ancient; it is old, completely old. Since + the fall of the Second Empire it has stood still. Most of the + clocks have run down, as though they realised the futility of + trying to keep pace with the rest of the world. The future + merges into the present, the present fades into the past, and + still the clocks of Versailles point to the same long + eventide. + </p><a name="image-16"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx30.png" width="250" height="392" align="right" + alt="Sable Garb"> + </center> + <p> + The proximity of Paris is evinced only by the vividly tinted + automobiles that make Versailles their goal. Even they rarely + tarry in the old town, but, turning at the Château + gates, lose no time in retracing their impetuous flight + towards a city whose usages accord better with their creed of + feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful + Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their + ghoulish, fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants, + once their raucous, cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the + distance, leave infinitely less impression on the placid life + of Versailles than do their wheels on the roads they + traverse. Under the grand trees of the wide avenues the + townsfolk move quietly about, busying themselves with their + own affairs and practising their little economies as they + have been doing any time during the last century. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it was the emphatic and demonstrative nature of the + mourning worn that gave us the idea that the better-class + female population of Versailles consisted chiefly of widows. + When walking abroad we seemed incessantly to encounter + widows: widows young and old, from the aged to the absurdly + immature. It was only after a period of bewilderment that it + dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils + reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems + of widowhood, but might signify some state of minor + bereavement. In Britain a display of black such as is an + everyday sight at Versailles is undreamt of, and one saw more + crape veils in a day in Versailles than in London in a week. + Little girls, though their legs might be uncovered, had their + chubby features shrouded in disfiguring gauze and to our + unaccustomed foreign eyes a genuine widow represented nothing + more shapely than a more or less stubby pillar festooned with + crape. + </p> + <p> + But for an inborn conviction that a frugal race like the + French would not invest in a plethora of mourning garb only + to cast it aside after a few months' wear, and that therefore + the period of wearing the willow must be greatly protracted, + we would have been haunted by the idea that the adult male + mortality of Versailles was enormous. + </p> + <p> + "Do they wear such deep mourning for all relatives?" I asked + our hotel proprietor, who had just told us that during the + first month of mourning the disguising veils were worn over + the faces. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur shook his sleek head gravely, "But no, Madame, not + for all. For a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for + a sister or brother, an uncle or aunt, yes; but for a cousin, + <i>no</i>." + </p> + <p> + He pronounced the <i>no</i> so emphatically as almost to + convince us of his belief that in refusing to mourn in the + most lugubrious degree for cousins the Versaillese acted with + praiseworthy self-denial. + </p> + <p> + There seemed to be no medium between sackcloth and + gala-dress. We seldom noted the customary degrees of + half-mourning. Plain colours were evidently unpopular and + fancy tartans of the most flamboyant hues predominated + amongst those who, during a spell of, say, three years had + been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother, + uncle, or aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge + the <i>ci-devant</i> mourners to robe themselves in lively + checks and tartans. It was as though they said—"Here at + last is our opportunity for gratifying our natural taste in + colours. It will probably be of but short duration. Therefore + let us select a combination of all the most brilliant tints + and wear them, for who knows how soon that gruesome pall of + woe may again enshroud us." + </p> + <p> + Probably it was the vicinity of our hotel to the Church of + Notre Dame that, until we discovered its brighter side, led + us to esteem Versailles a veritable city of the dead, for on + our bi-daily walks to visit the invalids we were almost + certain to encounter a funeral procession either approaching + or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the + great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia + which proclaimed that a Mass for the dead was in prospect or + in progress. Sometimes the sable valance and portières + were heavily trimmed and fringed with silver; at others there + was only the scantiest display of time-worn black cloth. + </p><a name="image-17"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx32.png" width="500" height="341" alt= + "A Football Team"> + </center> + <p> + The humblest funeral was affecting and impressive. As the sad + little procession moved along the streets—the wayfarers + reverently uncovering and soldiers saluting as it + passed—the dirge-like chant of the <i>Miserere</i> + never failed to fill my eyes with unbidden tears of sympathy + for the mourners, who, with bowed heads, walked behind the + wreath-laden hearse. + </p> + <p> + Despite the abundant emblems of woe, Versailles can never + appear other than bright and attractive. Even in mid-winter + the skies were clear, and on the shortest days the sun seldom + forgot to cast a warm glow over the gay, white-painted + houses. And though the women's dress tends towards + depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends. + There are 12,000 soldiers stationed in Versailles; and where + a fifth of the population is gorgeous in scarlet and blue and + gold, no town can be accused of lacking colour. + </p> + <p> + Next to the redundant manifestations of grief, the thing that + most impressed us was the rigid economy practised in even the + smallest details of expenditure. Among the lower classes + there is none of that aping of fashion so prevalent in + prodigal England; the different social grades have each a + distinctive dress and are content to wear it. Among the men, + blouses of stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes + velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have + toned to some exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet + coat worn with a fur cap and red neckerchief, compose an + effect that for harmonious colouring would be hard to beat. + The female of his species, as is the case in all natural + animals, is content to be less adorned. Her skirt is black, + her apron blue. While she is young, her neatly dressed hair, + even in the coldest weather, is guiltless of covering. As her + years increase she takes her choice of three head-dresses, + and to shelter her grey locks selects either a black knitted + hood, a checked cotton handkerchief, or a white cap of + ridiculously unbecoming design. + </p> + <p> + No French workaday father need fear that his earnings will be + squandered on such perishable adornments as feathers, + artificial flowers, or ribbons. The purchases of his spouse + are certain to be governed by extreme frugality. She selects + the family raiment with a view to durability. Flimsy finery + that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that a shower of + rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she + expends a few <i>sous</i> on the cutting of her boy's hair, + she has it cropped until his cranium resembles the soft, + furry skin of a mole, thus rendering further outlay in this + respect unlikely for months. And when she buys a flannel + shirt, a six-inch strip of the stuff, for future mending, is + always included in the price. + </p> + <p> + But with all this economy there is an air of comfort, a + complete absence of squalor. In cold weather the school-girls + wear snug hoods, or little fur turbans; and boys have the + picturesque and almost indestructible bérets of cloth + or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip inside + sabots for outdoor use are greatly in vogue, and the + comfortable Capuchin cloaks—whose peaked hood can be + drawn over the head, thus obviating the use of + umbrellas—are favoured by both sexes and all ages. + </p><a name="image-18"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx34.png" width="250" height="343" align="right" + alt="Mistress and Maid"> + </center> + <p> + As may be imagined, little is spent on luxuries. Vendors of + frivolities know better than to waste time tempting those + provident people. On one occasion only did I see money parted + with lightly, and in that case the bargain appeared + astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster of + gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down + his strong box on the verge of the market square, and, + displaying to the admiring eyes of the country folks, ladies' + and gentlemen's watches with chains complete, in the most + dazzling of aureate metal, sold them at six sous apiece as + quickly as he could hand them out. + </p> + <p> + Living is comparatively cheap in Versailles; though, as in + all places where the cost of existence is low, it must be + hard to earn a livelihood there. By far the larger proportion + of the community reside in flats, which can be rented at sums + that rise in accordance with the accommodation but are in all + cases moderate. Housekeeping in a flat, should the owner so + will it, is ever conducive to economy, and life in a French + provincial town is simple and unconventional. + </p><a name="image-19"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx35.png" width="250" height="278" align="left" + alt="Sage and Onions"> + </center> + <p> + Bread, wine, and vegetables, the staple foods of the nation, + are good and inexpensive. For 40 centimes one may purchase a + bottle of <i>vin de gard</i>, a thin tipple, doubtless; but + what kind of claret could one buy for fourpence a quart at + home? <i>Graves</i> I have seen priced at 50 centimes, + <i>Barsac</i> at 60, and <i>eau de vie</i> is plentiful at 1 + franc 20! + </p> + <p> + Fish are scarce, and beef is supposed to be dear; but when + butter, eggs, and cheese bulk so largely in the diet, the + half chicken, the scrap of tripe, the slice of garlic + sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the <i>ragout</i>, cannot + be heavy items. Everything eatable is utilised, and many + weird edibles are sold; for the French can contrive tasty + dishes out of what in Britain would be thrown aside as offal. + </p> + <p> + On three mornings a week—Sunday, Tuesday, and + Friday—the presence of the open-air market rouses + Versailles from her dormouse-like slumber and galvanises her + into a state of activity that lasts for several hours. Long + before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all + manner of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white + horses driven tandem, and laden with a moving stack of hay, + to the ramshackle donkey-cart conveying half a score of + cabbages, a heap of dandelions grubbed from the meadows, and + the owner. + </p><a name="image-20"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx36.png" width="400" height="440" alt="Marketing"> + </center> + <p> + By daybreak the market square under the leafless trees + presents a lively scene. There are stalls sacred to poultry, + to butter, eggs, and cheese; but the vegetable kingdom + predominates. Flanked by bulwarks of greens and bundles of + leeks of incredible whiteness and thickness of stem, sit the + saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and + the ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of + corn salad, of chicory, and of yellow endive placed in + adorable contrast to the scarlet carrots, blood-red beetroot, + pinky-fawn onions, and glorious orange-hued pumpkins; while + ready to hand are measures of white or mottled haricot beans, + of miniature Brussels sprouts, and of pink or yellow + potatoes, an esculent that in France occupies a very + unimportant place compared with that it holds amongst the + lower classes in Britain. + </p><a name="image-21"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx37.png" width="400" height="457" alt= + "Private Boxes"> + </center> + <p> + In Versailles Madame does her own marketing, her + maid—in sabots and neat but usually hideous + cap—accompanying her, basket laden. From stall to stall + Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in + fresh leaves here, a fowl there, some eggs from the wrinkled + old dame who looks so swart and witch-like in contrast to her + stock of milk-white eggs. + </p> + <p> + Madame makes her purchases judiciously—time is not a + valuable commodity in Versailles—and finishes, when the + huge black basket is getting heavy even for the strong arms + of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of cooked spinach + from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of + colour among the surrounding greenery, and a measure of + onions from the profound-looking sage who garners a winter + livelihood from the summer produce of his fields. + </p><a name="image-22"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx38.png" width="400" height="280" alt= + "A Foraging Party"> + </center> + <p> + Relations with uncooked food are, in Versailles, + distinguished by an unwonted intimacy. No one, however + dignified his station or appearance, is ashamed of purchasing + the materials for his dinner in the open market, or of + carrying them home exposed to the view of the world through + the transpicuous meshes of a string bag. The portly gentleman + with the fur coat and waxed moustaches, who looks a general + at least, and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his + bunch of turnips with an air that dignifies the office, just + as the young sub-lieutenant in the light blue cloak and red + cap and trousers carries his mother's apples and lettuces + without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the + nature of the <i>déjeûner</i> of this <i>simple + soldat</i> from the long loaf, the bottle of <i>vin + ordinaire</i>, and the onions that form the contents of his + net. In the street it was a common occurrence to encounter + some non-commissioned officer who, entrusted with the + catering for his mess, did his marketing accompanied by two + underlings, who bore between them the great open basket + destined to hold his purchases. + </p><a name="image-23"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx39.png" width="250" height="327" align="left" + alt="A Thriving Merchant"> + </center> + <p> + A picturesque appearance among the hucksters of the market + square is the <i>boîte de carton</i> seller. + Blue-bloused, with his stock of lavender or brown bandboxes + strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he parades + along, his wares finding ready sale; for his visits are + infrequent, and if one does not purchase at the moment, as + does Madame, the opportunity is gone. + </p> + <p> + The spirit of camaraderie is strong amongst the good folks of + the market. One morning the Artist had paused a moment to + make a rough sketch of a plump, affable man who, shadowed by + the green cotton awning of his stall, was selling segments of + round flat cheeses of goat's milk; vile-smelling compounds + that, judged from their outer coating of withered leaves, + straw, and dirt, would appear to have been made in a stable + and dried on a rubbish heap. The subject of the jotting, busy + with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who + sat, her feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a + circle of decadent greens, detecting the Artist's action, + became excited, and after eyeing him uneasily for a moment, + confided her suspicions as to his ulterior motive to a + round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by. + He, recognising us as customers—even then we were laden + with his violets and mimosa—merely smiled at her + concern. But his apathy only served to heighten Madame's + agitation. She was unwilling to leave her snug seat yet felt + that her imperative duty lay in acquainting Monsieur du + Fromage with the inexplicable behaviour of the inquisitive + foreigner. But the nefarious deed was already accomplished, + and as we moved away our last glimpse was of the little stove + standing deserted, while Madame hastened across the street in + her clattering sabots to warn her friend. + </p> + <p> + The bustle of the market is soon ended. By ten o'clock the + piles of vegetables are sensibly diminished. By half-past ten + the white-capped maid-servants have carried the heavy baskets + home, and are busy preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the + sharp boy whose stock-in-trade consisted of three trays of + snails stuffed <i>à la</i> Bourgogne has sold all the + large ones at 45 centimes a dozen, all the small at 25, and + quite two-thirds of the medium-sized at 35 centimes. + </p> + <p> + The clock points to eleven. The sun is high now. The vendors + awaken to the consciousness of hunger, and Madame of the + <i>pommes frites</i> stall, whose assistant dexterously cuts + the peeled tubers into strips, is fully occupied in draining + the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat and handing them + over, well sprinkled with salt and pepper, to avid customers, + who devour them smoking hot, direct from their paper + cornucopias. + </p> + <p> + Long before the first gloom of the early mid-winter dusk, all + has been cleared away. The rickety stalls have been + demolished; the unsold remainder of the goods disposed of; + the worthy country folks, their pockets heavy with + <i>sous</i>, are well on their journey homewards, and only a + litter of straw, of cabbage leaves and leek tops remains as + evidence of the lively market of the morning. + </p><a name="2HCH04"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="image-24"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx41.png" width="500" height="330" alt= + "Chestnuts in the Avenue"> + </center> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + OUR ARBRE DE NOËL + </h3> + <p> + We bought it on the Sunday morning from old Grand'mere Gomard + in the Avenue de St. Cloud. + </p> + <p> + It was not a noble specimen of a Christmas-tree. Looked at + with cold, unimaginative eyes, it might have been considered + lopsided; undersized it undoubtedly was. Yet a pathetic + familiarity in the desolate aspect of the little tree aroused + our sympathy as no rare horticultural trophy ever could. + </p> + <p> + Some Christmas fairy must have whispered to Grand'mere to + grub up the tiny tree and to include it in the stock she was + taking into Versailles on the market morning. For there it + was, its roots stuck securely into a big pot, looking like + some forlorn forest bantling among the garden plants. + </p><a name="image-25"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx42.png" width="400" height="569" alt= + "The Tree Vendor"> + </center> + <p> + Grand'mere Gomard had established herself in a cosy nook at + the foot of one of the great leafless trees of the Avenue. + Straw hurdles were cunningly arranged to form three sides of + a square, in whose midst she was seated on a rush-bottomed + chair, like a queen on a humble throne. Her head was bound by + a gaily striped kerchief, and her feet rested snugly on a + charcoal stove. Her merchandise, which consisted of half a + dozen pots of pink and white primulas, a few spotted or + crimson cyclamen, sundry lettuce and cauliflower plants, and + some roots of pansies and daisies, was grouped around her. + </p><a name="image-26"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx43.png" width="250" height="455" align="left" + alt="The Tree-bearer"> + </center> + <p> + The primulas and cyclamen, though their pots were shrouded in + pinafores of white paper skilfully calculated to conceal any + undue lankiness of stem, left us unmoved. But the sight of + the starveling little fir tree reminded us that in the school + hospital lay two sick boys whose roseate dreams of London and + holidays had suddenly changed to the knowledge that weeks of + isolation and imprisonment behind the window-blind with the + red cross lay before them. If we could not give them the + longed-for home Christmas, we could at least give them a + Christmas-tree. + </p> + <p> + The sight of foreign customers for Grand'mere Gomard speedily + collected a small group of interested spectators. A knot of + children relinquished their tantalising occupation of hanging + round the pan of charcoal over whose glow chestnuts were + cracking appetisingly, and the stall of the lady who with + amazing celerity fried pancakes on a hot plate, and sold them + dotted with butter and sprinkled with sugar to the lucky + possessors of a <i>sou</i>. Even the sharp urchin who + presided over the old red umbrella, which, reversed, with the + ferule fixed in a cross-bar of wood, served as a receptacle + for sheets of festive note-paper embellished with lace edges + and further adorned with coloured scraps, temporarily + entrusting a juvenile sister with his responsibilities, added + his presence to our court. + </p><a name="image-27"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx44.png" width="165" height="350" align="right" + alt="Rosine"> + </center> + <p> + Christmas-trees seemed not to be greatly in demand in + Versailles, and many were the whispered communings as to what + <i>les Anglais</i> proposed doing with the tree after they + had bought it. When the transaction was completed and + Grand'mere Gomard had exchanged the tree, with a sheet of + <i>La Patrie</i> wrapped round its pot, for a franc and our + thanks, the interest increased. We would require some one to + carry our purchase, and each of the bright-eyed, + short-cropped Jeans and Pierres was eager to offer himself. + But our selection was already made. A slender boy in a + <i>béret</i> and black pinafore, who had been our + earliest spectator, was singled out and entrusted with the + conveyance of the <i>arbre de Noël</i> to our hotel. + </p> + <p> + The fact that it had met with approbation appeared to + encourage the little tree. The change may have been + imaginary, but from the moment it passed into our possession + the branches seemed less despondent, the needles more erect. + </p> + <p> + "Will you put toys on it?" the youthful porter asked + suddenly. + </p> + <p> + "Yes; it is for a sick boy—a boy who has fever. Have + you ever had an <i>arbre de Noël</i>?" + </p> + <p> + "<i>Jamais</i>," was his conclusive reply: the tone thereof + suggesting that that was a felicity quite beyond the range of + possibility. + </p> + <p> + The tree secured, there began the comparatively difficult + work of finding the customary ornaments of glass and glitter + to deck it. A fruitless search had left us almost in despair, + when, late on Monday afternoon, we joyed to discover + miniature candles of red, yellow, and blue on the open-air + stall in front of a toy-store. A rummage in the interior of + the shop procured candle clips, and a variety of glittering + bagatelles. Laden with treasure, we hurried back to the + hotel, and began the work of decoration in preparation for + the morning. + </p> + <p> + During its short stay in our room at the hotel, the erstwhile + despised little tree met with an adulation that must have + warmed the heart within its rough stem. When nothing more + than three coloured glass globes, a gilded walnut, and a + gorgeous humming-bird with wings and tail of spun glass had + been suspended by narrow ribbon from its branches, Rosine, + the pretty Swiss chambermaid, chancing to enter the room with + letters, was struck with admiration and pronounced it + "très belle!" + </p> + <p> + And Karl bringing in a fresh <i>panier</i> of logs when the + adorning was complete, and silly little delightful baubles + sparkled and twinkled from every spray, putting down his + burden, threw up his hands in amazement and declared the + <i>arbre de Noël</i> "magnifique!" + </p> + <p> + This alien Christmas-tree had an element all its own. When we + were searching for knick-knacks the shops were full of tiny + Holy Babes lying cradled in waxen innocence in mangers of + yellow corn. One of these little effigies we had bought + because they pleased us. And when, the decoration of the tree + being nearly finished, the tip of the centre stem standing + scraggily naked called for covering, what more fitting than + that the dear little Sacred <i>Bébé</i> in his + nest of golden straw should have the place of honour? + </p> + <p> + It was late on Christmas Eve before our task was ended. But + next morning when Karl, carrying in our <i>petit + déjeûner</i>, turned on the electric light, and + our anxious gaze sought our work, we found it good. + </p> + <p> + Then followed a hurried packing of the loose presents; and, a + <i>fiacre</i> having been summoned, the tree which had + entered the room in all humility passed out transmogrified + beyond knowledge. Rosine, duster in hand, leant over the + banisters of the upper landing to watch its descent. Karl saw + it coming and flew to open the outer door for its better + egress. Even the stout old driver of the red-wheeled cab + creaked cumbrously round on his box to look upon its + beauties. + </p><a name="image-28"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx46.png" width="400" height="499" alt= + "Alms and the Lady"> + </center> + <p> + The Market was busy in the square as we rattled through. From + behind their battlemented wares the country mice waged wordy + war with the town mice over the price of merchandise. But on + this occasion we were too engrossed to notice a scene whose + picturesque humour usually fascinated us, for as the carriage + jogged over the rough roads the poor little <i>arbre de + Noël</i> palpitated convulsively. The gewgaws clattered + like castanets, as though in frantic expostulation, and the + radiant spun-glass humming-birds quivered until we expected + them to break from their elastic fetters and fly away. The + green and scarlet one with the gold-flecked wings fell on the + floor and rolled under the seat just as the cab drew up at + the great door of the school. + </p> + <p> + The two Red-Cross prisoners who, now that the dominating heat + of fever had faded, were thinking wistfully of the forbidden + joys of home, had no suspicion of our intention, and we + wished to surprise them. So, burdened with our treasure, we + slipped in quietly. + </p> + <p> + From her lodge window the concierge nodded approval. And at + the door of the hospital the good Soeur received us, a flush + of pleasure glorifying her tranquil face. + </p> + <p> + Then followed a moment wherein the patients were ordered to + shut their eyes, to reopen them upon the vision splendid of + the <i>arbre de Noël</i>. Perhaps it was the contrast to + the meagre background of the tiny school-hospital room, with + its two white beds and bare walls, but, placed in full view + on the centre table, the tree was almost imposing. Standing + apart from Grand'mere's primulas and cyclamen as though, + conscious of its own inferiority, it did not wish to obtrude, + it had looked dejected, miserable. During its sojourn at the + hotel the appreciation of its meanness had troubled us. But + now, in the shabby little chamber, where there were no rival + attractions to detract from its glory, we felt proud of it. + It was just the right size for the surroundings. A two-franc + tree, had Grand'mere possessed one, would have been + Brobdignagian and pretentious. + </p><a name="image-29"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx48.png" width="400" height="482" alt="Adoration"> + </center> + <p> + A donor who is handicapped by the knowledge that the gifts he + selects must within a few weeks be destroyed by fire, is + rarely lavish in his outlay. Yet our presents, wrapped in + white paper and tied with blue ribbons, when arranged round + the flower-pot made a wonderful show, There were mounted + Boers who, when you pressed the ball at the end of the + air-tube, galloped in a wobbly, uncertain fashion. The + invalids had good fun later trying races with them, and the + Boy professed to find that his Boer gained an accelerated + speed when he whispered "Bobs" to him. There were tales of + adventure and flasks of eau-de-Cologne and smart virile + pocket-books, one red morocco, the other blue. We regretted + the pocket-books; but their possession made the recipients + who, boylike, took no heed for the cleansing fires of the + morrow, feel grown-up at once. And they yearned for the + advent of the first day of the year, that they might begin + writing in their new diaries. For the Sister there was a + miniature gold consecrated medal. It was a small tribute of + our esteem, but one that pleased the devout recipient. + </p><a name="image-30"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx49a.png" width="165" height="381" align="left" + alt="Thankfulness"> + </center> + <p> + Suspended among the purely ornamental trinkets of the tree + hung tiny net bags of crystallised violets and many large + chocolates rolled up in silver paper. The boys, who had + subsisted for several days on nothing more exciting than + boiled milk, openly rejoiced when they caught sight of the + sweets. But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a + pretty wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions + by counting the dainties. + </p> + <p> + "I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys, + honest boys, and I have every confidence in them, but—I + count the chocolates!" said the Soeur. + </p><a name="image-31"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx49b.png" width="165" height="266" align="right" + alt="One of the Devout"> + </center> + <p> + As we passed back along the Rue de la Paroisse, worshippers + were flocking in and out of Notre Dame, running the gauntlet + of the unsavoury beggars who, loudly importunate, thronged + the portals. Before the quiet nook wherein, under a + gold-bestarred canopy, was the tableau of the Infant Jesus in + the stable, little children stood in wide-eyed adoration, and + older people gazed with mute devotion. + </p> + <p> + Some might deem the little spectacle theatrical, and there + was a slight irrelevance in the pot-plants that were grouped + along the foreground, but none could fail to be impressed by + the silent reverence of the congregation. No service was in + process, yet many believers knelt at prayer. Here a pretty + girl returned thanks for evident blessings received; there an + old spinster, the narrowness of whose means forbade her + expending a couple of sous on the hire of a chair, knelt on + the chilly flags and murmured words of gratitude for benefits + whereof her appearance bore no outward indication. + </p> + <p> + We had left the prisoners to the enjoyment of their newly + acquired property in the morning. At gloaming we again + mounted the time-worn outside stair leading to the chamber + whose casement bore the ominous red cross. The warm glow of + firelight filled the room, scintillating in the glittering + facets of the baubles on the tree; and from their pillows two + pale-faced boys—boys who, despite their lengthening + limbs were yet happily children at heart—watched + eager-eyed while the sweet-faced Soeur, with reverential + care, lit the candles that surrounded the Holy + <i>Bébé</i>. + </p><a name="2HCH05"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + LE JOUR DE L'ANNÉE + </h3> + <p> + The closing days of 1900 had been unusually mild. Versailles + townsfolk, watching the clear skies for sign of change, + declared that it would be outside all precedent if Christmas + week passed without snow. But, defiant of rule, sunshine + continued, and the new century opened cloudless and bright. + </p><a name="image-32"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx51.png" width="250" height="446" align="left" + alt="De L'eau Chaude"> + </center> + <p> + Karl, entering with hot water, gave us seasonable greeting, + and as we descended the stair, pretty Rosine, brushing boots + at the open window of the landing, also wished us a smiling + <i>bonne nouvelle année</i>. But within or without + there was little token of gaiety. Sundry booths for the sale + of gingerbread and cheap <i>jouets</i>, which had been + erected in the Avenue de St. Cloud, found business + languishing, though a stalwart countryman in blouse and + sabots, whose stock-in-trade consisted of whirligigs + fashioned in the semblance of <i>moulins rouges</i> and + grotesque blue Chinamen which he carried stuck into a straw + wreath fixed on a tall pole, had no lack of custom. + </p> + <p> + The great food question never bulks so largely in the public + interest as at the close of a year, so perhaps it was but + natural that the greatest appreciation of the festive + traditions of the season should be evinced by the shops + devoted to the sale of provender. Turkeys sported scarlet + bows on their toes as though anticipating a dance rather than + the oven; and by their sides sausages, their somewhat + plethoric waists girdled by pink ribbon sashes, seemed ready + to join them in the frolic. In one cookshop window a trio of + plaster nymphs who stood ankle-deep in a pool of crimped + green paper, upheld a huge garland of cunningly moulded wax + roses, dahlias, and lilac, above which perched a pheasant + regnant. This trophy met with vast approbation until a rival + establishment across the way, not to be outdone, exhibited a + centrepiece of unparalleled originality, consisting as it did + of a war scene modelled entirely in lard. Entrenched behind + the battlements of the fort crowning an eminence, Boers + busied themselves with cannon whose aim was carefully + directed towards the admiring spectators outside the window, + not at the British troops who were essaying to scale the + greasy slopes. Half way up the hill, a miniature train + appeared from time to time issuing from an absolutely + irrelevant tunnel, and, progressing at the rate of quite a + mile an hour, crawled into the corresponding tunnel on the + other side. At the base of the hill British soldiers, who + seemed quite cognisant of the utter futility of the Boer + gunnery, were complacently driving off cattle. Captious + critics might have taken exception to the fact that the waxen + camellias adorning the hill were nearly as big as the + battlements, and considerably larger than the engine of the + train. But fortunately detractors were absent, and such + trifling discrepancies did not lessen the genuine delight + afforded the spectators by this unique design which, as a + card proudly informed the world, was entirely the work of the + employés of the firm. + </p> + <p> + It was in a pâtisserie in the Rue de la Paroisse that + we noticed an uninviting compound labelled "Pudding Anglais, + 2 fr. 1/2 kilo." A little thought led us to recognise in this + amalgamation a travesty of our old friend plum-pudding; but + so revolting was its dark, bilious-looking exterior that we + felt its claim to be accounted a compatriot almost insulting. + And it was with secret gratification that towards the close + of January we saw the same stolid, unhappy blocks awaiting + purchasers. + </p><a name="image-33"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx53.png" width="250" height="370" align="left" + alt="The Mill"> + </center> + <p> + The presence of the customary Tuesday market kept the streets + busy till noon. But when the square was again empty of + sellers and buyers Versailles relapsed into quietude. I + wonder if any other town of its size is as silent as + Versailles. There is little horse-traffic. Save for the + weird, dirge-like drone of the electric cars, which seems in + perfect consonance with the tone of sadness pervading the old + town whose glory has departed, the clang of the wooden shoes + on the rough pavement, and the infrequent beat of hoofs as a + detachment of cavalry moves by, unnatural stillness seems to + prevail. + </p> + <p> + Of street music there was none, though once an old couple + wailing a plaintive duet passed under our windows. Britain is + not esteemed a melodious nation, yet the unclassical piano is + ever with us, and even in the smallest provincial towns one + is rarely out of hearing of the insistent note of some + itinerant musician. And no matter how far one penetrates into + the recesses of the country, he is always within reach of + some bucolic rendering of the popular music-hall ditty of the + year before last. But never during our stay in Versailles, a + stay that included what is supposedly the gay time of the + year, did we hear the sound of an instrument, or—with + the one exception of the old couple, whom it would be rank + flattery to term vocalists—the note of a voice raised + in song. + </p> + <p> + With us, New Year's Day was a quiet one. A dozen miles + distant, Paris was welcoming the advent of the new century in + a burst of feverish excitement. But despite temptations, we + remained in drowsy Versailles, and spent several of the hours + in the little room where two pallid Red-Cross knights, who + were celebrating the occasion by sitting up for the first + time, waited expectant of our coming as their one link with + the outside world. + </p><a name="image-34"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx54.png" width="400" height="276" alt= + "The Presbytery"> + </center> + <p> + It was with a sincere thrill of pity that at + <i>déjeûner</i> we glanced round the + <i>salle-à-manger</i> and found all the Ogams filling + their accustomed solitary places. Only Dunois the + comparatively young, and presumably brave, was absent. The + others occupied their usual seats, eating with their + unfailing air of introspective absorption. Nobody had cared + enough for these lonely old men to ask them to fill a corner + at their tables, even on New Year's Day. To judge by their + regular attendance at the hotel meals, these men—all of + whom, as shown by their wearing the red ribbon of the Legion + of Honour, had merited distinction—had little + hospitality offered them. Most probably they offered as + little, for, throughout our stay, none ever had a friend to + share his breakfast or dinner. + </p> + <p> + The bearing of the hotel guests suggested absolute ignorance + of one another's existence. The Colonels, as I have said in a + previous chapter, were exceptions, but even they held + intercourse only without the hotel walls. Day after day, + month after month, year after year as we were told, these men + had fed together, yet we never saw them betray even the most + cursory interest in one another. They entered and departed + without revealing, by word or look, cognisance of another + human being's presence. Could one imagine a dozen men of any + other nationality thus maintaining the same indifference over + even a short period? I hope future experience will prove me + wrong, but in the meantime my former conception of the French + as a nation overflowing with <i>bonhomie</i> and + <i>camaraderie</i> is rudely shaken. + </p> + <p> + The day of the year would have passed without anything to + distinguish it from its fellows had not the proprietor, who, + by the way, was a Swiss, endeavoured by sundry little + attentions to reveal his goodwill. Oysters usurped the place + of the customary <i>hors d'oeuvres</i> at breakfast, and the + meal ended with <i>café noir</i> and cognac handed + round by the deferential Iorson as being "offered by the + proprietor," who, entering during the progress of the + <i>déjeûner</i>, paid his personal respects to + his <i>clientèle</i>. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon brought us a charming discovery. We had a boy + guest with us at luncheon, a lonely boy left at school when + his few compatriots—save only the two Red-Cross + prisoners—had gone home on holiday. The day was bright + and balmy; and while strolling in the park beyond the Petit + Trianon, we stumbled by accident upon the <i>hameau</i>, the + little village of counterfeit rusticity wherein Marie + Antoinette loved to play at country life. + </p> + <p> + Following a squirrel that sported among the trees, we had + strayed from the beaten track, when, through the leafless + branches, we caught sight of roofs and houses and, wandering + towards them, found ourselves by the side of a miniature + lake, round whose margin were grouped the daintiest rural + cottages that monarch could desire or Court architect design. + </p> + <p> + History had told us of the creation of this unique plaything + of the capricious Queen, but we had thought of it as a thing + of the past, a toy whose fragile beauty had been wrecked by + the rude blows of the Revolution. The matter-of-fact and + unromantic Baedeker, it is true, gives it half a line. After + devoting pages to the Château, its grounds, pictures, + and statues, and detailing exhaustively the riches of the + Trianons, he blandly mentions the gardens of the Petit + Trianon as containing "some fine exotic trees, an artificial + lake, a Temple of Love, and a hamlet where the Court ladies + played at peasant life." + </p> + <p> + It is doubtful whether ten out of every hundred tourists who, + Baedeker in hand, wander conscientiously over the grand + Château—Palace, alas! no longer—ever notice + the concluding words, or, reading its lukewarm + recommendation, deem the hamlet worthy of a visit. The + Château is an immense building crammed with artistic + achievements, and by the time the sightseer of ordinary + capacity has seen a tenth of the pictures, a third of the + sculpture, and a half of the fountains, his endurance, if not + all his patience, is exhausted. + </p> + <p> + I must acknowledge that we, too, had visited Versailles + without discovering that the <i>hameau</i> still existed; so + to chance upon it in the sunset glow of that winter evening + seemed to carry us back to the time when the storm-cloud of + the Revolution was yet no larger than a man's hand; to the + day when Louis XVI., making for once a graceful speech, + presented the site to his wife, saying: "You love flowers. + Ah! well, I have a bouquet for you—the Petit Trianon." + And his Queen, weary of the restrictions of Court + ceremony—though it must be admitted that the willful + Marie Antoinette ever declined to be hampered by + convention—experiencing in her residence in the little + house freedom from etiquette, pursued the novel pleasure to + its furthest by commanding the erection in its grounds of a + village wherein she might the better indulge her newly + fledged fancy for make-believe rusticity. + </p> + <p> + About the pillars supporting the verandah-roof of the chief + cottage and that of the wide balcony above, roses and vines + twined lovingly. And though it was the first day of January, + the rose foliage was yet green and bunches of shrivelled + grapes clung to the vines. It was lovely then; yet a day or + two later, when a heavy snowfall had cast a white mantle over + the village, and the little lake was frozen hard, the scene + seemed still more beautiful in its ghostly purity. + </p> + <p> + At first sight there was no sign of decay about the + long-deserted hamlet. The windows were closed, but had it + been early morning, one could easily have imagined that the + pseudo villagers were asleep behind the shuttered casements, + and that soon the Queen, in some charming + <i>déshabillé</i>, would come out to breathe + the sweet morning air and to inhale the perfume of the + climbing roses on the balcony overlooking the lake, wherein + gold-fish darted to and fro among the water-lilies; or expect + to see the King, from the steps of the little mill where he + lodged, exchange blithe greetings with the maids of honour as + they tripped gaily to the <i>laiterie</i> to play at + butter-making, or sauntered across the rustic bridge on their + way to gather new-laid eggs at the farm. + </p> + <p> + The sunset glamour had faded and the premature dusk of + mid-winter was falling as, approaching nearer, we saw where + the roof-thatch had decayed, where the insidious finger of + Time had crumbled the stone walls. A chilly wind arising, + moaned through the naked trees. The shadow of the guillotine + seemed to brood oppressively over the scene, and, shuddering, + we hastened away. + </p><a name="2HCH06"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="image-35"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx58.png" width="500" height="335" alt= + "To the Place of Rest"> + </center> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + ICE-BOUND + </h3> + <p> + Even in the last days of December rosebuds had been trying to + open on the standard bushes in the sheltered rose-garden of + the Palace. But with the early nights of January a sudden + frost seized the town in its icy grip, and, almost before we + had time to realise the change of weather, pipes were frozen + and hot-water bottles of strange design made their appearance + in the upper corridors of the hotel. The naked cherubs in the + park basins stood knee-deep in ice, skaters skimmed the + smooth surface of the canal beyond the <i>tapis vert</i>, and + in a twinkling Versailles became a town peopled by gnomes and + brownies whose faces peeped quaintly from within conical + hoods. + </p> + <p> + Soldiers drew their cloak-hoods over their uniform caps. + Postmen went their rounds thus snugly protected from the + weather. The doddering old scavengers, plying their brooms + among the great trees of the avenues, bore so strong a + resemblance to the pixies who lurk in caves and woods, that + we almost expected to see them vanish into some crevice in + the gnarled roots of the trunks. Even the tiny acolytes + trotting gravely in the funeral processions had their heads + and shoulders shrouded in the prevailing hooded capes. + </p><a name="image-36"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx59.png" width="400" height="402" alt= + "While the Frost Holds"> + </center> + <p> + To us, accustomed though we were to an inclement winter + climate, the chill seemed intense. So frigid was the + atmosphere that the first step taken from the heated hotel + hall into the outer air felt like putting one's face against + an iceberg. All wraps of ordinary thickness appeared + incapable of excluding the cold, and I sincerely envied the + countless wearers of the dominant Capuchin cloaks. + </p><a name="image-37"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx60.png" width="400" height="544" alt= + "The Postman's Wrap"> + </center> + <p> + Our room was many-windowed, and no matter how high Karl piled + the logs, nor how close we sat to the flames, our backs never + felt really warm. It was only when night had fallen and the + outside shutters were firmly closed that the thermometer + suspended near the chimney-piece grudgingly consented to + record temperate heat. + </p><a name="image-38"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx61.png" width="400" height="496" alt= + "A Lapful of Warmth"> + </center> + <p> + But there was at least one snug chamber in Versailles, and + that was the room of the Red-Cross prisoners. However + extravagant the degrees of frost registered without, the + boys' sick-room was always pleasantly warm. How the good + Soeur, who was on duty all day, managed to regulate the heat + throughout the night-watches was her secret. A half-waking + boy might catch a glimpse of her, apparently robed as by day, + stealing out of the room; but so noiseless were her + movements, that neither of the invalids ever saw her stealing + in. They had a secret theory that in her own little + apartment, which was just beyond theirs, the Soeur, garbed, + hooded, and wearing rosary and the knotted rope of her Order, + passed her nights in devotion. Certain it was that even the + most glacial of weathers did not once avail to prevent her + attending the Mass that was held at Notre Dame each morning + before daybreak. + </p><a name="image-39"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx62.png" width="400" height="337" alt= + "The Daily Round"> + </center> + <p> + Frost-flowers dulled the inner glories of the shop windows + with their unwelcome decoration. Even in the square on market + mornings business flagged. The country folks, chilled by + their cold drive to town, cowered, muffled in thick wraps, + over their little charcoal stoves, lacking energy to call + attention to their wares. The sage with the onions was + absent, but the pretty girl in the red hood held her + accustomed place, warming mittened fingers at a chaufferette + which she held on her lap. The only person who gave no + outward sign of misery was the boulangère who, + harnessed to her heavy hand-cart, toiled unflinchingly on her + rounds. + </p> + <p> + In the streets the comely little <i>bourgeoises</i> hid their + plump shoulders under ugly black knitted capes, and concealed + their neat hands in clumsy worsted gloves. But despite the + rigour of the atmosphere their heads, with the hair neatly + dressed <i>à la Chinoise</i>, remained uncovered. It + struck our unaccustomed eyes oddly to see these girls thus + exposed, standing on the pavement in the teeth of some icy + blast, talking to stalwart soldier friends, whose noses were + their only visible feature. + </p><a name="image-40"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx63.png" width="400" height="518" alt= + "Three Babes and a Bonne"> + </center> + <p> + The ladies of Versailles give a thought to their waists, but + they leave their ankles to Providence, and any one having + experience of Versailles winter streets can fully sympathise + with their trust; for even in dry sunny weather mud seems a + spontaneous production that renders goloshes a necessity. And + when frost holds the high-standing city in its frigid grasp + the extreme cold forbids any idea of coquetry, and thickly + lined boots with cloth uppers—a species of foot-gear + that in grace of outline is decidedly suggestive of + "arctics"—become the only comfortable wear. + </p><a name="image-41"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx64.png" width="400" height="588" alt= + "Snow in the Park"> + </center> + <p> + After a few days of thought-congealing cold—a cold so + intense that sundry country people who had left their homes + before dawn to drive into Paris with farm produce were taken + dead from their market-carts at the end of the + journey—the weather mercifully changed. A heavy + snowfall now tempered the inclement air, and turned the + leafless park into a fairy vision. + </p> + <p> + The nights were still cold, but during the day the sun + glinted warmly on the frozen waters of the gilded fountains + and sparkled on the facets of the crisp snow. The marble + benches in the sheltered nooks of the snug Château + gardens were occupied by little groups, which usually + consisted of a <i>bonne</i> and a baby, or of a chevalier and + a hopelessly unclassable dog; for the dogs of Versailles + belong to breeds that no man living could classify, the most + prevalent type in clumsiness of contour and astonishing + shagginess of coat resembling nothing more natural than those + human travesties of the canine race familiar to us in + pantomime. + </p> + <p> + Along the snow-covered paths under the leafless trees, on + whose branches close-wreathed mistletoe hangs like rooks' + nests, the statues stood like guardian angels of the scene. + They had lost their air of aloofness and were at one with the + white earth, just as the forest trees in their autumn dress + of brown and russet appear more in unison with their parent + soil than when decked in their bravery of summer greenery. + </p><a name="2HCH07"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <center> + THE HAUNTED CHATEAU + </center><a name="image-42"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx66.png" width="250" height="477" align="left" + alt="A Veteran of the Chateau"> + </center> + <p> + The Château of Versailles, like the town, dozes through + the winter, only half awakening on Sunday afternoons when the + townsfolk make it their meeting-place. Then conscripts, in + clumsy, ill-fitting uniforms, tread noisily over the shining + <i>parqueterie</i> floors, and burgesses gossip amicably in + the dazzling <i>Galerie des Glaces</i>, where each morning + courtiers were wont to await the uprising of their king. But + on the weekdays visitors are of the rarest. Sometimes a few + half-frozen people who have rashly automobiled thither from + Paris alight at the Château gates, and take a hurried + walk through the empty galleries to restore the circulation + to their stiffened limbs before venturing to set forth on the + return journey. + </p> + <p> + Every weekday in the Place d'Armes, squads of conscripts are + busily drilling, running hither and thither with unflagging + energy, and the air resounds with the hoarse staccato cries + of "Un! Deux! Trois!" wherewith they accompany their + movements, cries that, heard from a short distance, exactly + resemble the harsh barking of a legion of dogs. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="image-43"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx67.png" width="400" height="331" alt= + "Un—deux—trois"> + </center> + <p> + Within the gates there is a sense of leisure: even the + officials have ceased to anticipate visitors. In the <i>Cour + Royale</i> two little girls have cajoled an old guide into + playing a game of ball. A custodian dozes by the great log + fire in the bedroom of Louis XIV., where the warm firelight + playing on the rich trappings lends such an air of occupation + to the chamber, that—forgetting how time has turned to + grey the once white ostrich plumes adorning the canopy of the + bed, and that the priceless lace coverlet would probably fall + to pieces at a touch—one almost expects the door to + open for the entrance of Louis le Grand himself. + </p> + <p> + To this room he came when he built the Palace wherein to hide + from that grim summons with which the tower of the Royal + sepulture of St. Denis, visible from his former residence, + seemed to threaten him. And here it was that Death, after + long seeking, found him. We can see the little great-grandson + who was to succeed, lifted on to the bed of the dying + monarch. + </p><a name="image-44"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx68.png" width="400" height="499" alt= + "The Bedchamber of Louis XIV"> + </center> + <p> + "What is your name, my child?" asks the King. + </p> + <p> + "Louis XV;" replies the infant, taking brevet-rank. And + nearly sixty years later we see the child, his wasted life at + an end, dying of virulent smallpox under the same roof, + deserted by all save his devoted daughters. + </p> + <p> + To me the Palace of Versailles is peopled by the ghosts of + many women. A few of them are dowdy and good, but by far the + greater number are graceful and wicked. How infinitely easier + it is to make a good bad reputation than to achieve even a + bad good one! "Tell us stories about naughty children," we + used to beseech our nurses. And as our years increase we + still yawn over the doings of the righteous, while our + interest in the ways of transgressors only strengthens. + </p> + <p> + We all know by heart the romantic lives of the shrinking La + Vallière, of Madame de Montespan the impassioned, of + sleek Madame de Maintenon—the trio of beauties honoured + by the admiration of Louis le Grand; and of the bevy of + favourites of Louis XV, the three fair and short-lived + sisters de Mailly-Nesle, the frail Pompadour who mingled + scheming with debauchery, and the fascinating but + irresponsible Du Barry. Even the most minute details of Marie + Antoinette's tragic career are fresh in our memories, but + which of us can remember the part in the history of France + played by Marie Leczinska? Yet, apart from her claim to + notability as having been the last queen who ended her days + on the French throne, her story is full of romantic interest. + </p> + <p> + Thrusting aside the flimsy veil of Time, we find Marie + Leczinska the penniless daughter of an exiled Polish king who + is living in retirement in a dilapidated commandatory at a + little town in Alsace. It is easy to picture the shabby room + wherein the unforeseeing Marie sits content between her + mother and grandmother, all three diligently broidering altar + cloths. Upon the peaceful scene the father enters, overcome + by emotion, trembling. His face announces great news, before + he can school his voice to speak. + </p> + <p> + "Why, father! Have you been recalled to the throne of + Poland?" asks Marie, and the naïve question reveals that + many years of banishment have not quenched in the hearts of + the exiles the hope of a return to their beloved Poland. + </p> + <p> + "No, my daughter, but you are to be Queen of France," replies + the father. "Let us thank God." + </p><a name="image-45"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx70.png" width="250" height="489" align="right" + alt="Marie Leczinska"> + </center> + <p> + Knowing the sequel, one wonders if it was for a blessing or a + curse that the refugees, kneeling in that meagre room in the + old house at Wissenberg, returned thanks. + </p> + <p> + Certain it is that the ministers of the boy-monarch were + actuated more by a craving to further their own ends than + either by the desire to please God or to honour their King, + in selecting this obscure maiden from the list of ninety-nine + marriageable princesses that had been drawn up at Versailles. + A dowerless damsel possessed of no influential relatives is + not in a position to be exacting, and, whate'er befell, poor + outlawed Stanislas Poniatowski could not have taken up arms + in defence of his daughter. + </p> + <p> + Having a sincere regard for unaffected Marie Leczinska, I + regret being obliged to admit that, even in youth, "comely" + was the most effusive adjective that could veraciously be + awarded her. And it is only in the lowest of whispers that I + will admit that she was seven years older than her handsome + husband, whose years did not then number seventeen. Yet is + there indubitable charm in the simple grace wherewith Marie + accepted her marvellous transformation from pauper to queen. + She disarmed criticism by refusing to conceal her former + poverty. "This is the first time in my life I have been able + to make presents," she frankly told the ladies of the Court, + as she distributed among them her newly got trinkets. + </p> + <p> + It is pleasant to remember that the early years of her wedded + life passed harmoniously. Louis, though never passionately + enamoured of his wife, yet loved her with the warm affection + a young man bestows on the first woman he has possessed. And + that Marie was wholly content there is little doubt. She was + no gadabout. Versailles satisfied her. Three years passed + before she visited Paris, and then the visit was more of the + nature of a pilgrimage than of a State progress. Twin + daughters had blessed the union, and the Queen journeyed to + the churches of Notre Dame and Saint Geneviève to + crave from Heaven the boon of a Dauphin: a prayer which a + year later was answered. + </p> + <p> + But clouds were gathering apace. As he grew into manhood the + domestic virtues palled upon Louis. He tired of the + needlework which, doubtless, Marie's skilled hands had taught + him. We recall how, sitting between her mother and + grandmother, the future Queen had broidered altar cloths. + Marie Leczinska was an adoring mother; possibly her devotion + to their rapidly increasing family wearied him. Being little + more than a child himself, the King is scarcely likely to + have found the infantile society so engaging as did the + mother. Thus began that series of foolish infidelities that, + characterised by extreme timidity and secrecy at first, was + latterly flaunted in the face of the world. + </p> + <p> + Marie's life was not a smooth one, but it was happier than + that of her Royal spouse. To me there is nothing sadder, + nothing more sordid in history, than the feeble, useless + existence of Louis XV., whose early years promised so well. + It is pitiful to look at the magnificent portrait, still + hanging in the palace where he reigned, of the child-king + seated in his robes of State, the sceptre in his hand, + looking with eyes of innocent wonder into the future, then to + think upon the depth of degradation reached by the once + revered Monarch before his body was dragged in dishonour and + darkness to its last resting-place. + </p><a name="image-46"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx72.png" width="250" height="351" align="right" + alt="Madame Adelaide"> + </center> + <p> + Pleasanter figures that haunt the Château are those of + the six pretty daughters of Louis and Marie Leczinska. There + are the ill-starred twins, Elizabeth and Henrietta: Madame + Elizabeth, who never lost the love of her old home, and, + though married, before entering her teens, to the Infanta of + Spain, retired, after a life of disappointment, to her + beloved Versailles to die; and the gentle Henrietta who, + cherishing an unlucky passion for the young Duc de Chartres, + pined quietly away after witnessing her lover wed to another. + </p> + <p> + Then there is Adelaide, whom Nattier loved to paint, + portraying her sometimes as a lightly clad goddess, sometimes + sitting demurely in a pretty frock. Good Nattier! there is a + later portrait of himself in complacent middle age surrounded + by his wife and children; but I like to think that, when he + spent so many days at the Palace painting the young Princess, + some tenderer influence than mere artistic skill lent cunning + to his brush. + </p> + <p> + When the daughters of Louis XV. were sent to be educated at a + convent, Adelaide it was who, by tearful protest to her royal + father, gained permission to remain at the Palace while her + sisters meekly endured their banishment. From this instance + of childish character one would have anticipated a career for + Madame Adelaide, and I hate being obliged to think of her + merely developing into one of the three spinster aunts of + Louis XVI. who, residing under the same roof, turned coldly + disapproving eyes upon the manifold frailties of their niece, + Marie Antoinette. + </p> + <p> + The sisters Victoire and Sophie are faint shades leaving no + impression on the memory; but there is another spirit, clad + in the sombre garb of a Carmelite nun, who, standing aloof, + looks with the calm eyes of peace on the motley throng. It is + Louise, the youngest sister of all, who, deeply grieved by + her father's infatuation for the Du Barry—an + infatuation which, beginning within a month of Marie + Leczinska's decease, ended only when on his deathbed the + dying Monarch prepared to receive absolution by bidding his + inamorata farewell—resolved to flee her profligate + surroundings and devote her life to holiness. + </p> + <p> + It is affecting to think of the gentle Louise, secretly + anticipating the rigours of convent life, torturing her + delicate skin by wearing coarse serge, and burning tallow + candles in her chamber to accustom herself to their + detestable odour. + </p> + <p> + Her father's consent gained, Louise still tarried at + Versailles. Perhaps the King's daughter shrank from + voluntarily beginning a life of imprisoned drudgery. We know + that at this period she passed many hours reading + contemporary history, knowing that, once within the convent + walls, the study of none but sacred literature would be + permitted. + </p> + <p> + Then came an April morning when Louise, who had kept her + intention secret from all save her father, left the Palace + never to return. France, in a state of joyous excitement, was + eagerly anticipating the arrival of Marie Antoinette, who was + setting forth on the first stage of that triumphal journey + which had so tragic an ending. Already the gay clamour of + wedding-bells filled the air; and Louise may have feared + that, did she linger at Versailles, the enticing vanities of + the world might change the current of her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + Chief among the impalpable throng that people the state + galleries is Marie Antoinette, and her spirit shows us many + faces. It is charming, haughty, considerate, headstrong, + frivolous, thoughtful, degraded, dignified, in quick + succession. We see her arrive at the Palace amid the + tumultuous adoration of the crowd, and leave amidst its + execrations. Sometimes she is richly apparelled, as befits a + queen; anon she sports the motley trappings of a mountebank. + The courtyard that saw the departure of Madame Louise + witnesses Marie Antoinette, returning at daybreak in company + with her brother-in-law from some festivity unbecoming a + queen, refused admittance by the King's express command. + </p><a name="image-47"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx74.png" width="250" height="374" align="right" + alt="Louis Quatorze"> + </center> + <p> + Many of the attendant spirits who haunt Marie Antoinette's + ghostly footsteps as they haunted her earthly ones are + malefic. Most are women, and all are young and fair. There is + Madame Roland, who, taken as a young girl to the Palace to + peep at the Royalties, became imbued by that jealous hatred + which only the Queen's death could appease. + </p> + <p> + "If I stay here much longer," she told that kindly mother who + sought to give her a treat by showing her Court life, "I + shall detest these people so much that I shall be unable to + hide my hatred." + </p> + <p> + It is easy to fancy the girl's evil face scowling at the + unconscious Queen, before she leaves to pen those + inflammatory pamphlets which are to prove the Sovereign's + undoing and her own. For by some whim of fate Madame Roland + was executed on the very scaffold to which her envenomed + writings had driven Marie Antoinette. + </p> + <p> + A spectre that impresses as wearing rags under a gorgeous + robe, lurks among the foliage of the quiet <i>bosquet</i> + beyond the orangerie. It is the infamous Madame de la Motte, + chief of adventuresses, and it was in that secluded grove + that her tool, Cardinal de Rohan, had his pretended interview + with the Queen. Poor, perfidious Contesse! what an existence + of alternate beggarly poverty and beggarly riches was hers + before that last scene of all when she lay broken and bruised + almost beyond human semblance in that dingy London courtyard + beneath the window from which, in a mad attempt to escape + arrest, she had thrown herself. + </p> + <p> + Through the Royal salons flits a presence whereat the shades + of the Royal Princesses look askance: that of the frolicsome, + good-natured, irresponsible Du Barry. A soulless ephemera + she, with no ambitions or aspirations, save that, having + quitted the grub stage, she desires to be as brilliant a + butterfly as possible. Close in attendance on her moves an + ebon shadow—Zamora, the ingrate foundling who, reared + by the Duchesse, swore that he would make his benefactress + ascend the scaffold, and kept his oath. For our last sight of + the prodigal, warm-hearted Du Barry, plaything of the aged + King, is on the guillotine, where in agonies of terror she + fruitlessly appeals to her executioner's clemency. + </p> + <p> + But of all the bygone dames who haunt the grand + Château, the only one I detest is probably the most + irreproachable of all—Madame de Maintenon. There is + something so repulsively sanctimonious in her aspect, + something so crafty in the method wherewith, under the cloak + of religion, she wormed her way into high places, + ousting—always in the name of propriety—those who + had helped her. Her stepping-stone to Royal favour was + handsome, impetuous Madame de Montespan, who, taking + compassion on her widowed poverty, appointed Madame Scarron, + as she then was, governess of her children, only to find her + <i>protégée</i> usurp her place both in the honours of + the King and in the affections of their children. + </p> + <p> + The natural heart rebels against the "unco guid," and Madame + de Maintenon, with her smooth expression, double chin, sober + garments and ever-present symbols of piety, revolts me. I + know it is wrong. I know that historians laud her for the + wholesome influence she exercised upon the mind of a king who + had grown timorous with years; that the dying Queen declared + that she owed the King's kindness to her during the last + twenty years of her life entirely to Madame de Maintenon. But + we know also that six months after the Queen's death an + unwonted light showed at midnight in the Chapel Royal, where + Madame de Maintenon—the child of a prison + cell—was becoming the legal though unacknowledged wife + of Louis XIV. The impassioned, uncalculating de Montespan had + given the handsome Monarch her all without stipulation. Truly + the career of Madame de Maintenon was a triumph of virtue + over vice; and yet of all that heedless, wanton throng, my + soul detests only her. + </p><a name="2HCH08"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="image-48"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx77.png" width="500" height="342" alt= + "Where the Queen Played"> + </center> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + MARIE ANTOINETTE + </h3> + <p> + Stereotyped sights are rarely the most engrossing. At the + Palace of Versailles the <i>petits appartements de la + Reine</i>, those tiny rooms whose grey old-world furniture + might have been in use yesterday, to me hold more actuality + than all the regal salons in whose vast emptiness footsteps + reverberate like echoes from the past. + </p> + <p> + In the pretty sitting-room the coverings to-day are a + reproduction of the same pale blue satin that draped the + furniture in the days when queens preferred the snug + seclusion of those dainty rooms overlooking the dank inner + courtyard to the frigid grandeur of their State chambers. + Therein it was that Marie Leczinska was wont to instruct her + young daughters in the virtues as she had known them in her + girlhood's thread-bare home, not as her residence at the + profligate French Court had taught her to understand them. + </p><a name="image-49"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx78.png" width="250" height="543" alt= + "Marie Antoinette"> + </center> + <p> + The heavy gilt bolts bearing the interlaced initials M.A. + remind us that these, too, were the favourite rooms of Marie + Antoinette, and that in all probability the cunningly + entwined bolts were the handiwork of her honest spouse, who + wrought at his blacksmith forge below while his wife flirted + above. But in truth the <i>petits appartements</i> are + instinct with memories of Marie Antoinette, and it is + difficult to think of any save only her occupying them. The + beautiful <i>coffre</i> presented to her with the layette of + the Dauphin still stands on a table in an adjoining chamber, + and the paintings on its white silk casing are scarcely faded + yet, though the decorative ruching of green silk leaves has + long ago fallen into decay. + </p> + <p> + A step farther is the little white and gold boudoir which + still holds the mirror that gave the haughty Queen her first + premonition of the catastrophe that awaited her. Viewed + casually the triple mirror, lining an alcove wherein stands a + couch garlanded with flowers, betrays no sinister qualities. + But any visitor who approaches looking at his reflection + where at the left the side panels meet the angle of the wall, + will be greeted by a sight similar to that whose tragic + suggestion made even the haughty Queen pause a moment in her + reckless career. For in the innocent appearing mirrors the + gazer is reflected without a head. + </p> + <p> + It was through this liliputian suite, this strip of + homeliness so artfully introduced into a palace, that Marie + Antoinette fled on that fateful August morning when the mob + of infuriated women invaded the Château. + </p> + <p> + Knowing this, I was puzzling over the transparent fact that + either of the apparent exits would have led her directly into + the hands of the enemy, when the idea of a secret staircase + suggested itself. A little judicious inquiry elicited the + information that one did exist. "But it is not seen. It is + locked. To view it, an order from the Commissary—that + is necessary," explained the old guide. + </p> + <p> + To know that a secret staircase, and one of such vivid + historical importance, was at hand, and not to have seen it + would have been too tantalising. The "Commissary" was an + unknown quantity, and for a space it seemed as though our + desire would be ungratified. Happily the knowledge of our + interest awoke a kindly reciprocity in our guide, who, + hurrying off, quickly returned with the venerable custodian + of the key. A moment later, the unobtrusive panel that + concealed the exit flew open at its touch, and the secret + staircase, dark, narrow, and hoary with the dust of years, + lay before us. + </p><a name="image-50"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx80.png" width="400" height="617" alt= + "The Secret Stair"> + </center> + <p> + Many must have been the romantic meetings aided by those + diminutive steps, but, peering into their shadows, we saw + nothing but a vision of Marie Antoinette, half clad in + dishevelled wrappings of petticoat and shawl, flying + distracted from the vengeance of the furies through the + refuge of the low-roofed stairway. + </p> + <p> + In my ingenuous youth, when studying French history, I + evolved a theory which seemed, to myself at least, to account + satisfactorily for the radical differences distinguishing + Louis XVI. from his brothers and antecedents. Finding that, + when a delicate infant, he had been sent to the country to + nurse, I rushed to the conclusion that the royal infant had + died, and that his foster-mother, fearful of the + consequences, had substituted a child of her own in his + place. The literature of the nursery is full of instances + that seemed to suggest the probability of my conjecture being + correct. + </p> + <p> + As a youth, Louis had proved himself both awkward and clumsy. + He was loutish, silent in company, ill at ease in his + princely surroundings, and in all respects unlike his younger + brothers. He was honest, sincere, pious, a faithful husband, + a devoted father; amply endowed, indeed, with the + middle-class virtues which at that period were but rarely + found in palaces. To my childish reasoning the most + convincing proof lay in his innate craving for physical + labour; a craving that no ridicule could dispel. + </p> + <p> + With the romantic enthusiasm of youth, I used to fancy the + peasant mother stealing into the Palace among the spectators + who daily were permitted to view the royal couple at dinner, + and imagine her, having seen the King, depart glorying + secretly in the strategy that had raised her son to so high + an estate. There was another picture, in whose dramatic + misery I used to revel. It showed the unknown mother, who had + discovered that by her own act she had condemned her innocent + son to suffer for the sins of past generations of royal + profligates, journeying to Paris (in my dreams she always + wore sabots and walked the entire distance in a state of + extreme physical exhaustion) with the intention of preventing + his execution by declaring his lowly parentage to the mob. + The final tableau revealed her, footsore and weary, reaching + within sight of the guillotine just in time to see the + executioner holding up her son's severed head. I think my + imaginary heroine died of a broken heart at this juncture, a + catastrophe that would naturally account for her secret dying + with her. + </p><a name="image-51"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx82.png" width="300" height="575" alt= + "Madame Sans Tête"> + </center> + <p> + During our winter stay at Versailles, my childish phantasies + recurred to me, and I almost found them feasible. What an + amazing irony of fate it would have shown had a son of the + soil expired to expiate the crimes of sovereigns! + </p> + <p> + But more pitiful by far than the saddest of illusions is the + sordid reality of a scene indelibly imprinted on my mental + vision. Memory takes me back to the twilight of a spring + Sunday several years ago, when in the wake of a cluster of + market folks we wandered into the old Cathedral of St. Denis. + Deep in the sombre shadows of the crypt a light gleamed + faintly through a narrow slit in the stone wall. Approaching, + we looked into a gloomy vault wherein, just visible by the + ray of a solitary candle, lay two zinc coffins. + </p> + <p> + Earth holds no more dismal sepulchre than that dark vault, + through the crevice in whose wall the blue-bloused marketers + cast curious glances. Yet within these grim coffins lie two + bodies with their severed heads, all that remains mortal of + the haughty Marie Antoinette and other humble spouse. + </p><a name="2HCH09"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="image-52"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx84.png" width="500" height="325" alt= + "Illumination"> + </center> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE PRISONERS RELEASED + </h3> + <p> + The first dread days, when the Boy, heavy with fever, seemed + scarcely to realise our presence, were swiftly followed by + placid hours when he lay and smiled in blissful content, + craving nothing, now that we were all together again. But + this state of beatitude was quickly ousted by a period of + discontent, when the hunger fiend reigned supreme in the + little room. + </p> + <p> + "<i>Manger, manger, manger, tout le temps!"</i> Thus the + nurse epitomised the converse of her charges. And indeed she + was right, for, from morning till night, the prisoners' + solitary topic of conversation was food. During the first ten + days their diet consisted solely of boiled milk, and as that + time wore to a close the number of quarts consumed increased + daily, until Paul, the chief porter, seemed ever ascending + the little outside stair carrying full bottles of milk, or + descending laden with empty ones. + </p> + <p> + "Milk doesn't count. When shall we be allowed food, + <i>real</i> food?" was the constant cry, and their relief was + abounding when, on Christmas Day, the doctor withdrew his + prohibition, and permitted an approach to the desired solids. + But even then the prisoners, to their loudly voiced + disappointment, discovered that their only choice lay between + vermicelli and tapioca, nursery dishes which at home they + would have despised. + </p> + <p> + "<i>Tapioca!</i> Imagine tapioca for a Christmas dinner!" the + invalids exclaimed with disgust. But that scorn did not + prevent them devouring the mess and eagerly demanding more. + And thereafter the saucepan simmering over the gas-jet in the + outer room seemed ever full of savoury spoon-meat. + </p> + <p> + I doubt if any zealous mother-bird ever had a busier time + feeding her fledglings than had the good Sister in satisfying + the appetites of these callow cormorants. To witness the + French nun seeking to allay the hunger of these voracious + schoolboy aliens was to picture a wren trying to fill the + ever-gaping beaks of two young cuckoos whom an adverse fate + had dropped into her nest. + </p> + <p> + As the days wore by, the embargo placed upon our desire to + cater for the invalids was gradually lifted, and little + things such as sponge biscuits and pears crept in to vary the + monotony of the milk diet. + </p> + <p> + New Year's Day held a tangible excitement, for that morning + saw a modified return to ordinary food, and, in place of + bottles of milk, Paul's load consisted of such tempting + selections from the school meals as were deemed desirable for + the invalids. Poultry not being included in the school menus, + we raided a cooked-provision shop and carried off a plump, + well-browned chicken. The approbation which met this venture + resulted in our supplying a succession of <i>poulettes</i>, + which, at the invalids' express desire, were smuggled into + their room under my cloak. Not that there was the most remote + necessity for concealment, but the invalids, whose sole + interest centred in food, laboured under the absurd idea + that, did the authorities know they were being supplied from + without, their regular meals would be curtailed to prevent + them over-eating. + </p> + <p> + The point of interest, for the Red-Cross prisoners at least, + in our morning visits lay in the unveiling of the eatables we + had brought. School food, however well arranged, is + necessarily stereotyped, and the element of the unknown ever + lurked in our packages. The sugar-sticks, chocolates, fruit, + little cakes, or what we had chanced to bring, were carefully + examined, criticised, and promptly devoured. + </p> + <p> + A slight refreshment was served them during our short stay, + and when we departed we left them eagerly anticipating + luncheon. At gloaming, when we returned, it was to find them + busy with half-yards of the long crusty loaves, plates of + jelly, and tumblers, filled with milk on our Boy's part, and + with well diluted wine on that of his fellow sufferer. + </p> + <p> + Fear of starvation being momentarily averted, the Soeur used + to light fresh candles around the tiny Holy + <i>Bébé</i> on the still green Christmas-tree, + and for a space we sat quietly enjoying the radiance. But by + the time the last candle had flickered out, and the glow of a + commonplace paraffin lamp lighted the gloom, nature again + demanded nourishment; and we bade the prisoners farewell for + the night, happy in the knowledge that supper, sleep, and + breakfast would pleasantly while away the hours till our + return. + </p> + <p> + The elder Red-Cross knight was a tall, good-looking lad of + sixteen, the age when a boy wears painfully high collars, + shaves surreptitiously—and unnecessarily—with his + pen-knife, talks to his juniors about the tobacco he smokes + in a week, and cherishes an undying passion for a maiden + older than himself. He was ever an interesting study, though + I do not think I really loved him until he confided his + affairs of the heart, and entrusted me with the writing of + his love-letters. I know that behind my back he invariably + referred to me as "Ma"; but as he openly addressed the + unconscious nun as "you giddy old girl," "Ma" might almost be + termed respectful, and I think our regard was mutual. + </p> + <p> + All things come to him who waits. There came a night when for + the last time we sat together around the little tree, + watching the Soeur light the candles that illuminated the Holy + <i>Bébé</i>. On the morrow the prisoners, + carefully disinfected, and bearing the order of their release + in the form of a medical certificate, would be set free. + </p> + <p> + It clouded our gladness to know that before the patient + Sister stretched another period of isolation. Just that day + another pupil had developed scarlet fever, and only awaited + our boys' departure to occupy the little room. Hearing that + this fresh prisoner lay under sentence of durance vile, we + suggested that all the toys—chiefly remnants of + shattered armies that, on hearing of the Boy's illness, we + had brought from the home playroom he had + outgrown—might be left for him instead of being sent + away to be burnt. + </p> + <p> + The Boy's bright face dulled. "If it had been anybody else! + But, mother, I don't think you know that he is the one French + boy we disliked. It was he who always shouted '<i>à + bas les Anglais!</i>' in the playground." + </p> + <p> + The reflection that for weary weeks this obnoxious boy would + be the only inmate of the <i>boîte</i>, as the invalids + delighted to call their sick-room, overcame his antipathetic + feeling, and he softened so far as to indite a polite little + French note offering his late enemy his sympathy, and + formally bequeathing to him the reversion of his toys, + including the <i>arbre de Noël</i> with all its + decorations, except the little waxen Jesus nestling in the + manger of yellow corn; the Soeur had already declared her + intention of preserving that among her treasures. + </p> + <p> + The time that had opened so gloomily had passed, and now that + it was over we could look back upon many happy hours spent + within the dingy prison walls. And our thoughts were in + unison, for the Boy, abruptly breaking the silence, said: + "And after all, it hasn't been such a bad time. Do you know, + I really think I've rather enjoyed it!" + </p><a name="2H_4_10"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + L'ENVOI + </h2><a name="image-53"><!--IMG--></a> + <center> + <img src="vx88.png" width="250" height="322" align="left" + alt=""> + </center> + <p> + Heavy skies lowered above us, the landscape seen through the + driving mist-wreaths showed a depressing repetition of drabs + and greys as we journeyed towards Calais. But, snugly + ensconced in the <i>train rapide</i>, our hearts beat high + with joy, for at last were we homeward bound. The weeks of + exile in the stately old town had ended. For the last time + the good Sister had lit us down the worn stone steps. As we + sped seawards across the bleak country, our thoughts flew + back to her, and to the little room with the red cross on its + casement, wherein, although our prisoners were released, + another term of nursing had already begun for her. In + contrast with her life of cheerful self-abnegation, ours + seemed selfish, meaningless, and empty. + </p> + <p> + Dear nameless Sister! She had been an angel of mercy to us in + a troublous time, and though our earthly paths may never + again cross, our hearts will ever hold her memory sacred. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <center> + <i>By the same Author</i> + </center> + <h2> + OUR STOLEN SUMMER + </h2> + <center> + THE RECORD OF A ROUNDABOUT TOUR<br> + BY<br> + MARY STUART BOYD<br> + WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SKETCHES BY A.S. BOYD + </center> + <h3> + <i>Extracts from Reviews</i> + </h3> + <p> + <b>THE WORLD</b>.—"To be able to go round the world + nowadays, and write a descriptive record of the tour that is + vivid and fresh is a positive literary feat. It has been + successfully accomplished in <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> by Mrs. + Boyd, who with no ulterior object in making a book journeyed + over four continents in company with her husband, and picked + up <i>en route</i> matter for one of the pleasantest, most + humorous, and least pretentious books of travel we have read + for many a day. It is admirably illustrated by Mr. A.S. Boyd, + whose sense of humour happily matches that of his observant + wife, and the reader who can lay aside this picturesque and + truly delightful volume without sincere regret must have a + dull and dreary mind." + </p> + <p> + <b>PUNCH</b>.—"<i>Our Stolen Summer</i> is calculated + to lead to wholesale breakage of the Eighth Commandment. + Certainly, my Baronite, reading the fascinating record of a + roundabout tour, feels prompted to steal away. Mary Stuart + Boyd, who pens the record, has the great advantage of the + collaboration of A.S.B., whose signature is familiar in + <i>Mr. Punch's</i> Picture Gallery.... A charming book." + </p> + <p> + <b>SPECTATOR</b>.—"The writer, by the help of a ready + pen and of the pencil of a skilful illustrator, has given us + in this handsome volume a number of attractive pictures of + distant places.... It is good to read and pleasant to look + at." + </p> + <p> + <b>TRUTH</b>.—"You will find no pleasanter holiday + reading than <i>Our Stolen Summer</i>." + </p> + <p> + <b>ACADEMY</b>.—"A fresh record, and worth the reading. + Of such is Mrs. Boyd's volume, which her husband has + illustrated profusely with spirited line drawings." + </p> + <p> + <b>FIELD</b>.—"One of the brightest books of travel + that it has been our good fortune to read. The illustrations + deserve a notice to themselves. They are far and away better + than those which we usually get in books of this kind, and we + do not know that we can bestow higher praise on them than to + say that they are worthy of the letterpress which they + illustrate." + </p> + <p> + <b>LAND AND WATER</b>.—"A delightful sketch of a + delightful journey.... <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> is a book + which will be read with equal delight on a lazy summer + holiday, or in the heart of London when the streets are + enveloped in fog and the rain is beating against the window + panes. Mr. Boyd's sketches are simply admirable." + </p> + <p> + <b>SPHERE</b>.—"A delightful record of travel. Mrs. + Boyd is never dull, and there is plenty of acute observation + throughout her pleasant story of travel. My Boyd's + illustrations which appear on practically every page, are, it + need scarcely be said, up to the high level that is already + familiar to students of his black-and-white work." + </p> + <p> + <b>LADIES' FIELD</b>.—"A singularly delightful and + unaffected book of travel." + </p> + <p> + <b>MADAME</b>.—"One of the most delightful books of + travel it has been our good fortune to read." + </p> + <p> + <b>MORNING POST</b>.—"If the encouragement of + globe-trotting be a virtuous action, then certainly Mrs. + Stuart Boyd has deserved well of her country. To read her + book is to conceive an insensate desire to be off and away on + 'the long trail' at all hazards and at all costs.... Mr. + Boyd's illustrations add greatly to the interest and charm of + the book. There is movement, atmosphere, and sunshine in + them." + </p> + <p> + <b>STANDARD</b>.—"Mrs. Boyd went with her husband round + the world, and the latter—an artist with a sense of + humour—kept his hand in practice by making droll + sketches of people encountered by the way, which heighten the + charm of his wife's vivacious description of a <i>Stolen + Summer</i>. Mrs. Boyd has quick eyes and an open mind, and + writes with sense and sensibility." + </p> + <p> + <b>DAILY TELEGRAPH</b>.—"It is not so much what Mrs. + Boyd has to tell as the invariable good humour and brightness + with which she records even the most familiar things that + makes the charm of her excellent diary." + </p> + <p> + <b>DAILY CHRONICLE</b>.—"Mrs. Boyd has written the log + with sparkle and observation—seeing many things that + the mere man-traveller would miss. Mr. Boyd's sketches are, + of course, excellent." + </p> + <p> + <b>PALL MALL GAZETTE</b>.—"Mrs. Boyd writes with so + much buoyancy, and her humour is so unexpected and unfailing, + that it is safe to say that there is not a dull page from + first to last in this record of a tour round the world... Mr. + A.S. Boyd's numerous illustrations show him at his very + best." + </p> + <p> + <b>GLOBE</b>.—"A work to acquire as well as to peruse." + </p> + <p> + <b>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE</b>.—"The narrative from + beginning to end does not contain a dull page. Of Mr. Boyd's + numerous sketches it is only necessary to say that they are + excellent. Altogether <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> will be found + to be one of the most fascinating of recent books of travel." + </p> + <p> + <b>SUNDAY TIMES</b>.—"Brilliantly and entertainingly + written, and liberally illustrated by an acknowledged master + of the art of black and white." + </p> + <p> + <b>SCOTSMAN</b>.—"A beautiful and fascinating book.... + Pen and pencil sketches alike have grace, nerve, and humour, + and are alive with human interest and observation." + </p> + <p> + <b>GLASGOW HERALD</b>.—"One of the most delightful + travel-books of recent times.... Mrs. Boyd's volume must + commend itself to people who contemplate visiting the other + side of the globe and to all stay-at-home travellers as + well." + </p> + <p> + <b>DAILY FREE PRESS</b>.—"Mrs. Boyd is an admirable + descriptive writer—observant, humorous, and + sympathetic. Without illustrations, <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> + would be a notable addition to the literature of travel; with + Mr. Boyd's collaboration it is almost unique." + </p> + <p> + <b>LEEDS MERCURY</b>.—"Vivacious and diverting record." + </p> + <p> + <b>YORKSHIRE DAILY POST</b>.—"For such a book there + could be nothing but praise if one wrote columns about it." + </p> + <p> + <b>BIRMINGHAM DAILY POST</b>.—"A singularly happy and + interesting record of a most enjoyable tour." + </p> + <p> + <b>NORTHERN WHIG</b>.—"Shrewdness of observation, with + not a little humour and a real literary gift, mark the story + of <i>Our Stolen Summer</i>." + </p> + <p> + <b>THE BOOKMAN</b>.—"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much + brightness, such vivacity and picturesqueness of style, that + although the volume runs to close upon four hundred pages + there is not a dull page among them. The success of <i>Our + Stolen Summer</i>, however, is due as much to the artist as + to the author; and praise must be equally divided. Mr. Boyd's + sketches are spirited, clever, full of humour and sympathetic + observation. Without a word of letter-press they would have + formed an excellent travel-book; taken in conjunction with + Mrs. Boyd's narrative they are irresistible." + </p> + <center> + LONDON AND EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <center> + <i><b>Illustrated by A.S. Boyd</b></i> + </center> + <h2> + A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN + </h2> + <center> + BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON<br> + WITH TWENTY-SEVEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A.S. BOYD + </center> + <h3> + <i>Extracts from Reviews</i> + </h3> + <p> + <b>THE TIMES</b>.—"The characters whom Stevenson had in + his mind's eye are all cleverly pictured, and the drawings + may be truthfully said to illustrate the writer's + ideas—a quality that seldom resides in + illustrations.... All are faithfully presented as only one + who has known them intimately could present them.... Mr. + Boyd's talent for black-and-white work has never found + happier expression." + </p> + <p> + <b>MORNING POST</b>.—"It is impossible to imagine + anything more likely to appeal to the sentiment of the + Scottish people throughout the world than this series of + pictures, instinct with the spirit of their land." + </p> + <p> + <b>DAILY TELEGRAPH</b>.—"One of the happiest + combinations of author and artist which has been seen of late + years. Mr. Boyd has entered thoroughly into the spirit of the + lines, and his figures are instinct with graceful humour." + </p> + <p> + <b>DAILY CHRONICLE</b>.—"Mr. Boyd is to be + congratulated (as R. L. S. would assuredly have granted) upon + interpreting so vividly a notable feature in the national + life of Scotland." + </p> + <p> + <b>ATHENAEUM</b>.—"The task of illustrating Stevenson's + verses was most difficult, because it demands from the artist + knowledge of local circumstances and characteristic details. + Mr. Boyd's success in making us see so plainly the moods and + manners of the 'restin' ploughman' while he 'daundered' in + his garden and 'raxed his limbs' is the more to be enjoyed + and praised." + </p> + <p> + <b>PALL MALL GAZETTE</b>.—"Followers of the master will + appreciate this beautiful book for its accurate + interpretation of the poem as well as for its excellent + drawing." + </p> + <p> + <b>ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE</b>.—"There is plenty of good + Scotch character in the illustrations, and a quiet + observation of the humours of a parish, with such annals as + those recorded by Gait." + </p> + <p> + <b>ACADEMY</b>.—"An attractive book." + </p> + <p> + <b>SATURDAY REVIEW</b>.—"In saying therefore that Mr. + Boyd's illustrations—there is a full page drawing for + each verse—are not only worthy of the poem, but + actually emphasise and define its merits, we give the book + the highest possible praise. It is a volume which should be + added to the library of every collector." + </p> + <p> + <b>SPECTATOR</b>.—"These illustrations to Mr. + Stevenson's Scots poem are distinctly clever, especially in + their characterisation of the various attendants at the + village kirk." + </p> + <p> + <b>SPEAKER</b>.—"The book presents very vividly some of + the aspects (both humorous and pathetic) of a Scottish rural + lowland parish, and will doubtless touch a chord in the heart + of Scotsmen throughout the world." + </p> + <p> + <b>OUTLOOK</b>.—"Many of Mr. Stevenson's admirers the + world over have long desired that such a classic poem should + be faithfully and adequately illustrated, and they will give + a hearty welcome to this most handsome quarto." + </p> + <p> + <b>SCOTSMAN</b>.—"One way and another the book is + wholly delightful." + </p> + <p> + <b>GLASGOW EVENING NEWS</b>.—"Mr. Boyd's contributions + to a volume which ought to be popular with Scots in every + part of the world, are full of pawky humour, and their + realism is so pronounced that we seem to have known the + models in the life." + </p> + <p> + <b>DUNDEE ADVERTISER</b>.—"This is a volume to be + treasured alike for the sake of the poet, of the artist, and + of that form of Scottish life which is rapidly disappearing + before the march of progress." + </p> + <p> + <b>ARBROATH HERALD</b>.—"Mr. Boyd has represented these + pictures in line sketches, which are characterised at once by + the strength and confidence of a masterful draughtsman and + the insight of a keen observer of character, who has long + been familiar with the types presented in Stevenson's poem." + </p> + <p> + <b>GOOD WORDS</b>.—"Mr. Boyd has portrayed, with here + and there a happy trait of grace or humour beyond the wording + of the text, the very scene and people. Each of the + illustrations has a charm and freshness of its own." + </p> + <p> + <b>ART JOURNAL</b>.—"Mr. Boyd's knowledge of Lothian + peasants and their manners is as complete as Stevenson's. His + drawings place in pictorial view the poet's thoughts, while + they greatly enhance the descriptions by emphasising what the + writer rightly left vague." + </p> + <center> + LONDON: CHATTO & WINDUS, III St. Martin's Lane + </center> + <center> + <img src="vxinset.png" width="150" height="163" alt=""> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE *** + +***** This file should be named 10813-h.htm or 10813-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/8/1/10813/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Karen Robinson, David Garcia and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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