Graf von Beuss is one of those indistinct Counts Reuss, who always call themselves "Henry;" and, being now at the eightieth and farther, with uncountable collateral Henrys intertwisted, are become in effect anonymous, or of nomenclature inscrutable to mankind. Nor is the young one otherwise of the least interest to us;--except that Herr Anton, the Travelling Tutor, punctually kept a Journal of everything. Which Journal, long afterwards, came into the hands of Busching, also a punctual man; and was by him abridged, and set forth in print in his <italic> Beitrage. <end italic> Offering at present a singular daguerrotype glimpse of the then actual world, wherever Graf von Reuss and his Geusau happened to be. Nine-tenths of it, even in Busching's Abridgment, are now fallen useless and wearisome; but to one studying the days that then were, even the effete commonplace of it occasionally becomes alive again. And how interesting to catch, here and there, a Historical Figure on these conditions; Historical Figure's very self, in his work-day attitude; eating his victuals; writing, receiving letters, talking to his fellow-creatures; unaware that Posterity, miraculously through some chink of the Travelling Tutor's producing, has got its eye upon him.
"SUNDAY, 1st JANUARY, 1741, Geusau and his young Gentleman leave Paris, at 5 in the morning, and drive out to Versailles; intending to see the ceremonies of New-year's day there. Very wet weather it had been, all Wednesday, and for days before; [See in <italic>
Barbier <end italic> (ii. 283 et seqq.) what terrible Noah-like weather it had been; big houses, long in soak, tumbling down at last into the Seine; CHASSE of St. Genevieve brought out (two days ago), December 30th, to try it by miracle; &c. &c.] but on this Sunday, New-year's morning, all is ice and glass; and they slid about painfully by lamplight,--with unroughened horses, and on the Hilly or Meudon road, having chosen that as fittest, the waters being out;--not arriving at Court till 9. Nor finding very much to comfort them, except on the side of curiosity, when there.
Ushers, INTRODUCTEURS, Cabinet Secretaries, were indeed assiduous to oblige; and the King's Levee will be: but if you follow it, to the Chapel Royal to witness high mass, you must kneel at elevation of the host; and this, as reformed Christians, Reuss and his Tutor cannot undertake to do. They accept a dinner invitation (12 the hour) from some good Samaritan of Quality; and, for sights, will content themselves with the King's Levee itself, and generally with what the King's Antechamber and the OEil-de-Boeuf can exhibit to them. The Most Christian King's Levee [LEVER, literally here his Getting out of Bed] is a daily miracle of these localities, only grander on New-year's day; and it is to the following effect:--"Till Majesty please to awaken, you saunter in the Salle des Ambassadeurs; whole crowds jostling one another there; gossiping together in a diligent, insipid manner;" gossip all reported;snatches of which have acquired a certain flavor by long keeping;--which the reader shall imagine. "Meanwhile you keep your eye on the Grate of the Inner Court, which as yet is only ajar, Majesty inaccessible as yet. Behold, at last, Grate opens itself wide; sign that Majesty is out of bed; that the privileged of mankind may approach, and see the miracles." Geusau continues, abridged by Busching and us:--"The whole Assemblage passed now into the King's Anteroom; had to wait there about half an hour more, before the King's bedroom was opened. But then at last, lo you,--there is the King, visible to Geusau and everybody, washing his hands.' Which effected itself in this way: 'The King was seated; a gentleman-in-waiting knelt, before him, and held the Ewer, a square vessel silver-gilt, firm upon the King's breast; and another gentleman-in-waiting poured water on the King's hands.' Merely an official washing, we perceive; the real, it is to be hoped, had, in a much more effectual way, been going on during the half-hour just elapsed.
After washing, the King rose for an instant; had his dressing-gown, a grand yellow silky article with silver flowerings, pulled off, and flung round his loins; upon which he sat down again, and,"--observe it, ye privileged of mankind,--"the Change of Shirt took place! 'They put the clean shirt down over his head,' says Anton, (and plucked up the dirty one from within, so that of the naked skin you saw little or nothing.'" Here is a miracle worth getting out of bed to look at!
"His Majesty now quitted chair and dressing-gown; stood up before the fire; and, after getting on the rest of his clothing, which, on account of Czarina Anne's death [readers remember that], was of violet or mourning color, he had the powder-mantle thrown round him, and sat down at the Toilette to have his hair frizzled. The Toilette, a table with white cover shoved into the middle of the room, had on it a mirror, a powder-knife, and"--no mortal cares what. "The King," what all mortals note, as they do the heavenly omens, "is somewhat talky; speaks sometimes with the Dutch Ambassador, sometimes with the Pope's Nuncio, who seems a jocose kind of gentleman; sometimes with different French Lords, and at last with the Cardinal Fleury also,--to whom, however, he does not look particularly gracious,"--not particularly this time. These are the omens; happy who can read them!--Majesty then did his morning-prayer, assisted only by the common Almoners-in-waiting (Cardinal took no hand, much less any other); Majesty knelt before his bed, and finished the business 'in less than six seconds.' After which mankind can ebb out to the Anteroom again; pay their devoir to the Queen's Majesty, which all do; or wait for the Transit to Morning Chapel, and see Mesdames of France and the others flitting past in their sedans.