DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.61284#0191
88
VIGEE-LEBRUN
de Chartres (afterwards Due d’Orleans and “ Philippe Egalite”) who was
six years older than herself, her great fortune as heiress of the Due de
Bourbon-Penthievre was largely dissipated by her disgraceful husband,
whose notions of pleasure were very much those of his forerunner at the
Palais-Royal, the Regent Orleans. We have met him before in these
pages, when, not long after his marriage to a virtuous and lovable girl,
he was staring the women out of countenance, and jeering at their appear-
ance, on the steps of the Coliseum. Every one of decent character sym-
pathised with this ill-married princess, and the pity of thousands, long
years after her death in 1821, has been quickened for the mother of Louis
Philippe by this picture from Madame Vigee-Lebrun’s brush.
The portraits of the Mysorean envoys, one of the Dauphin, and one
of the young Prince Henri Lubomirski (holding the particular crown of
myrtle and laurel which Lebrun-Pindare wore at the Greek supper) were
also among the pictures exhibited by her in the Salon of 1789.
By this time, Madame Lebrun had begun to realise the possibility
that she might have to leave France. Already some of her friends,
notably the Polignacs and the Comte de Vaudreuil, had thought it wiser
to be out of the country. The ship of the old Regime was obviously
sinking, to the eyes of intelligent members of the crew, and, rather than go
to the bottom with it, they preferred to imitate the proverbial rats.
In the preceding year Madame Lebrun had noticed with alarm, during
country walks in the environs of Paris, that the labourers no longer took
off their hats to her and her companions, and even at times became insolent
and threatening in their attitude. At Marly, where she was staying in
the midsummer of 1789 with her friend Madame Auguier (a beautiful lady
of the Court, sister of the more celebrated Madame Campan), an incident
occurred which would have been a direful warning, even to an optimist
adherent of monarchy. We will hear what happened from Madame Lebrun
herself. “ One day when we were at a window which looked into the
courtyard, which courtyard opened on to the high road, we saw a drunken
man come in, and fall down on the ground. Madame Auguier, with her
usual kindliness, called a valet, and told him to help the unhappy man,
to lead him to the kitchen and take care of him. A few minutes later the
valet came back. ‘ Truly,’ he said, 1 Madame is too good: that man is
a wretch ! Look here at the papers which fell out of his pocket.’ And
he handed to us several note-books, one of which began : ‘ Down with the
Royal Family ! down with the nobles I down with the priests ! ’ followed
VIGEE-LEBRUN
de Chartres (afterwards Due d’Orleans and “ Philippe Egalite”) who was
six years older than herself, her great fortune as heiress of the Due de
Bourbon-Penthievre was largely dissipated by her disgraceful husband,
whose notions of pleasure were very much those of his forerunner at the
Palais-Royal, the Regent Orleans. We have met him before in these
pages, when, not long after his marriage to a virtuous and lovable girl,
he was staring the women out of countenance, and jeering at their appear-
ance, on the steps of the Coliseum. Every one of decent character sym-
pathised with this ill-married princess, and the pity of thousands, long
years after her death in 1821, has been quickened for the mother of Louis
Philippe by this picture from Madame Vigee-Lebrun’s brush.
The portraits of the Mysorean envoys, one of the Dauphin, and one
of the young Prince Henri Lubomirski (holding the particular crown of
myrtle and laurel which Lebrun-Pindare wore at the Greek supper) were
also among the pictures exhibited by her in the Salon of 1789.
By this time, Madame Lebrun had begun to realise the possibility
that she might have to leave France. Already some of her friends,
notably the Polignacs and the Comte de Vaudreuil, had thought it wiser
to be out of the country. The ship of the old Regime was obviously
sinking, to the eyes of intelligent members of the crew, and, rather than go
to the bottom with it, they preferred to imitate the proverbial rats.
In the preceding year Madame Lebrun had noticed with alarm, during
country walks in the environs of Paris, that the labourers no longer took
off their hats to her and her companions, and even at times became insolent
and threatening in their attitude. At Marly, where she was staying in
the midsummer of 1789 with her friend Madame Auguier (a beautiful lady
of the Court, sister of the more celebrated Madame Campan), an incident
occurred which would have been a direful warning, even to an optimist
adherent of monarchy. We will hear what happened from Madame Lebrun
herself. “ One day when we were at a window which looked into the
courtyard, which courtyard opened on to the high road, we saw a drunken
man come in, and fall down on the ground. Madame Auguier, with her
usual kindliness, called a valet, and told him to help the unhappy man,
to lead him to the kitchen and take care of him. A few minutes later the
valet came back. ‘ Truly,’ he said, 1 Madame is too good: that man is
a wretch ! Look here at the papers which fell out of his pocket.’ And
he handed to us several note-books, one of which began : ‘ Down with the
Royal Family ! down with the nobles I down with the priests ! ’ followed