In the Courts of Memory, 1858-1875; from Contemporary LettersHegermann-Lindencrone, L. de (Lillie de)
History
In the Courts of Memory, 1858-1875; from Contemporary Letters
Hegermann-Lindencrone, L. de (Lillie de)
France -- Court and courtiers; France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century
My wedding-dress, trimmed with the beautiful lace (which came in my
_corbeille_), seemed the proper thing to wear. The gentlemen's costumes
are "_culottes courtes blanches_, white silk stockings, and a dress-coat
with gold buttons." My mother-in-law had been under the coiffeur's tongs
for hours, and when she reappeared, frizzled and curled, she looked so
unnatural that we hardly recognized her. My father-in-law refused point
blank to go with us. When asked, "Don't you want to see Lillie's first
appearance?" he answered, "I shall see her before she goes. It is not
likely I shall see much of her when she is once there." Which would
probably have been the case.
Mrs. Moulton, wishing to go in style, ordered the gala Cinderella coach
which served at my wedding. It used to take my parents-in-law to and from
the Tuileries in the time of Louis Philippe. One can see the like in
Versailles, all glass in front, white satin inside, with steps to let
down, and swung on eight undulating springs. Charles went in our coupé,
and I must say I envied him.
It is a long drive from the Rue de Courcelles to the Tuileries, and it
takes a long time, especially when the _queue_ commences at the Place
de la Concorde. I was almost dizzy as we advanced step by step, pulling up
at every moment, rocking and swaying like a row-boat in a gentle swell,
and when we got a chance to go faster the carriage rocked from side to
side, all the fringe on the coachman's box waving about. The coachman was
a study in himself, with his white wig and silk stockings, ensconced like
a hen on her nest. The valet, with powdered hair, white silk stockings,
and plush breeches, stood on his little platform behind the carriage,
holding on to the two cords on the side. I felt very fine, but not fine
enough to prevent my feeling a little sea-sick, and I could not help
thinking that it was a great pity to put on such style at night, when no
one could see us. I would have liked better to have been seen in the
daytime in this pomp and glory.
When at last we did arrive my mother-in-law's feathers were somewhat awry.
We mounted the stately staircase, lined on both sides by the superb Cent
Gardes, standing like statues on each step.
Many chamberlains were waiting, and we were conducted to the Grand Maître
de Cérémonie, who passed us on to a less grand Maître de Cérémonie, who
showed us to the place where we were to stand in the ballroom. It was a
magnificent sight, and as long as I live I shall never forget it.
The beautifully dressed ladies were covered with jewels, and the gentlemen
in their showy uniforms were covered with decorations. Each lady showed to
great advantage, as, on account of the width of their crinolines, they had
to stand very far apart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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