Memoirs | Page 4

at the very same hour, placed an indispensable article of domestic
use upon her window-sill, so that it was as good as a clock to us. Later
on, I changed my room for one looking over the courtyard, facing the
rooms occupied by an actor at the Comedie-Francaise named Dumilatre,
and his daughters; Dumilatre, whom I knew well, having seen him play
those small tragedy parts which consist in making a dignified exit and
saying, "Yes, my lord," had the same habits as my black lady, and the
same object used to appear upon his window-sill with equal regularity.
I had only changed my clock!
It was during the winter sojourn at the Palais-Royal, too, that our

masters and their lessons multiplied. And several of these masters were
oddities, amongst others our professor of German. Picture a little
bland-mannered old man, dressed all in black, with satin breeches,
woollen stockings, enormous shoes, and a broad-brimmed hat. He had
been tutor to Prince Metternich in his youth. I know not what chance
had later driven him into France--where, during the Terror, he became
one of the secretaries of the much-dreaded Committee of Public Safety
at Strasbourg. He lived alone with his daughter, whom he often sent to
Germany, not by the ordinary means of communication, but concealed
in the van which was sent periodically into Hungary to fetch supplies of
leeches for the hospitals, which circumstance made us conclude that the
simple name of "Herr Simon" by which he called himself probably
concealed some deep mystery. Nothing, alas! remains to me of his
German, nor of that of a valet of the same race, who had been put about
me, so ill adapted has my mental constitution always proved to any
foreign language.
Another oddity was our dancing master, an Opera dancer, named
Seuriot. What a fine presence that man had! His lesson, which we all
took together, like a little corps de ballet, was a great amusement to us,
especially because of the theatrical stories we used to make him tell us.
One day he arrived in a great state of excitement, and addressing the
governesses he said, "Ladies, you see before you a man who had a
remarkable escape yesterday. The ballet called Les Filets de Vulcain
was being danced, I was playing Jupiter, and I was just going to ascend
in my glory, with Mercury beside me, when I felt that same glory was
out of order, and I had only just time to jump off, and to shout to
Mercury, ' Jump, my friend, jump, don't lose an instant!' Well, well!"
During the pauses in the lesson, when his fiddle ceased, and while he
wiped the perspiration from his brow, we used to crowd round him and
ask him questions. The elder ones always tried to get him on the subject
of a danseuse named Mademoiselle Legallois, one on which he would
descant unendingly. This was the lady who on one occasion appeared
in a ballet as the allegorical representative of Religion, which fact
caused it to be said of a certain [Illustration: Man and woman dancing.]
Marshal of France "qu'il s'etait eteint dans les bras de la religion" (that
he had passed away peacefully in the arms of religion). But the moment

we were seen crowding round and whispering with the old dancer, the
governesses would charge down upon us with their "What is it? What is
it?" and we began our BATTEMENTS and our steps again. Personally
I owed one of the earliest successes in my life to old Seuriot. I had
profited so much by his lessons, that I appear to have danced the
minuet in a quite remarkable way, so much so that my parents had a
complete crimson velvet dress in the style of the last century made for
me, with the indispensable three-cornered hat and a sword with knots
of ribbon. Thus accoutred, with powdered head and pigtail, I had to
give several performances of my minuet, which I danced with my sister
Clementine, both of us displaying all the airs and graces of bygone
times. My marquis's dress, of which I was excessively proud, served
me also for a fancy dress ball given by the Duchesse de Berri, at which,
identifying myself too much with my character, I had a quarrel with a
Cossack of my own age, young de B-- about a partner. In my fury I
drew my sword, he did likewise, and we were just falling on each other,
when the Duchesse rushed up crying, "Stop, you naughty children!
Take their swords away, M. de Brissac!" As for my sister Clementine,
who was at the ball too, wearing her minuet gown, and looking utterly
bewitching in her powder and her looped-up dress, she attracted the
notice of Charles X.,