XVI.
THE BALL.
The evening before that of the ball gave us lively disappointment. A finerain began to fall. But Celeste came to assure us that in St. Martinvillea storm had never prevented a ball, and if one had to go by boat, stillone had to go. Later the weather improved, and several young gentlemencame to visit us.... "Will there be a supper, chevalier?" asked thebaroness of her future son-in-law.--"Ah, good! For me the supper is thebest part of the affair."
Alas! man proposes. The next morning she was in bed suffering greatly withher throat. "Neither supper nor ball for me this evening," she said. "TheCountess de la Houssaye will take care of you and Celeste this evening."...
At last our toilets were complete....
When Madame de la Houssaye opened the door and saw us, instead ofapproaching, she suddenly stopped with her hands clasped convulsively, andwith eyes dilated and a pallor and look of astonishment that I shall neverforget. I was about to speak when she ran to Suzanne and seized her by thearm.
"Child! for pity answer me! Where did that dress--these jewels, comefrom?"
"Madame!" said my sister, quickly taking offense.
"Francoise!" cried the countess, "you will answer me. Listen. The lasttime I saw the Countess Aurelie de Morainville, six years ago, was at areception of Queen Marie Antoinette, and she wore a dress exactly likethat of Suzanne's. My child, pity my emotions and tell me where you boughtthat toilet." I answered, almost as deeply moved as she:
"We did not buy it, madame. These costumes were given to us by MadameCarpentier."
"Given! Do you know the price of these things?"
"Yes; and, moreover, Madame du Clozel has told us."
"And you tell me a poor woman, the wife of a gardener, made you thesepresents. Oh! I must see this Madame Carpentier. She must have known Alix.And who knows--oh, yes, yes! I must go myself and see her."
"And I must give her forewarning," I said to myself. But, alas! as I havejust said, "Man proposes, God disposes." About six months after our returnto St. James we heard of the death of the Countess de la Houssaye, whichhad occurred only two months after our leaving St. Martinville....
* * * * *
Oh, how my heart beat as I saw the lights of the ball-room and heard itswaves of harmony! I had already attended several dances in theneighborhood of our home, but they could not compare with this. The wallswere entirely covered with green branches mingled with flowers of allcolors, especially with magnolias whose odor filled the room. Hidden amongthe leaves were millions of fantastically colored lampions seeming likeso many glow-worms.[21] To me, poor little rustic of sixteen, it seemedsupernaturally beautiful. But the prettiest part--opposite the door hadbeen raised a platform surmounted by a dais made of three flags: theFrench, Spanish, and Prussian--Prussia was papa's country. And under thesecolors, on a pedestal that supported them, were seen, in immense letterscomposed of flowers, the one German word, _Bewillkommen_! Papa explainedthat the word meant "Welcome." On the platform, attired with inconceivableelegance, was the master of ceremonies, the handsome Neville Declouethimself, waiting to wish us welcome anew.
It would take volumes, my daughter, to describe the admirable toilets,masculine as well as feminine, of that memorable night. The thing isimpossible. But I must describe that of the king of the festival, theyoung Neville, that you may understand the immense difference between thetoilets of 1795 and those of 1822.
Neville had arranged his hair exactly as on the day we first saw him. Itwas powdered white; his pigeon-wings were fastened with the same pins ofgold, and his long queue was wrapped with a rose-colored ribbon. His coatwas of frosted rose silk with broad facings of black velvet. His vest camedown nearly to his knees. It also was of rose silk, but covered with blackbuttons. His breeches, also rose, were fastened at the knees with blackvelvet ribbons escaping from diamond buckles and falling upon silkstockings shot alternately with black and rose. Diamonds sparkled again onhis lace frill, at his wrists, on his cravat of rose silk, and on thebuckles of his pumps.
I cast my eye around to find Tonton, but she had not come. Some one nearme said, "Do you know who will escort Madame du Rocher to the ball?" Andanother said, "Here is Neville, so who will replace him at the side of thepretty widow?"
As we entered the room the Baron du Clozel passed his arm under papa's andconducted him to the platform, while his sons, following, drew us forwardto receive the tributes prepared for us. Neville bowed low and began hisaddress. At first he spoke with feeling and eloquence, but by and by helost the thread. He cast a look of despair upon the crowd, which did notconceal its disposition to laugh, turned again quickly towards us, passedhis hand twice across his forehead, and finished with:
"Yes, I repeat it, we are glad to see you; you are welcome among us,and--I say to you only that!"
There was a general burst of laughter. But my father pitied the youngman's embarrassment. He mounted the platform, shook his hand, and thankedhim, as well as all the people of St. Martinville, for his graciouswelcome and their warm hospitality. Then, to our great joy, the ballopened.
It began with a minuet danced by twelve couples at once, six on each side.The minuet in vogue just then was well danced by but few persons. It hadbeen brought to St. Martinville by emigres who had danced it at theFrench court ... But, thanks to the lessons given us by Alix, we had thepleasure to surprise them.
Now I ought to tell you, my daughter, that these male costumes, soeffeminate, extravagant, and costly, had met great opposition from part ofthe people of St. Martin parish. They had been brought in by the Frenchemigres, and many had adopted them, while others had openly revoltedagainst them. A league had been formed against them. Among its memberswere the Chevalier de Blanc, the elder of the d'Arbys, the Chevalier de laHoussaye, brother of the count, Paul Briant, Adrian Dumartrait, youngMorse, and many others. They had thrown off entirely the fashionable dressand had replaced it with an attire much like what men wear now. It wasrumored that the pretty Tonton favored the reform of which her brother wasone of the chiefs.
Just as the minuet was being finished a loud murmur ran through the hall.All eyes were turned to the door and some couples confused their steps inthe dance. Tonton had come. She was received with a cry of surprise; notfor her beauty, not for her exquisite toilet, but because of him whoentered with her.
"Great God!" exclaimed Celeste du Clozel, "it is Treville de SaintJulien!"--"Oh!" cried Madame de la Houssaye, "Tonton is a fool, anarch-fool. Does she want to see bloodshed this evening?"--"The CountessMadelaine is going to faint!" derisively whispered Olivier in my ear.
"Who," asked Suzanne, "is Treville de Saint Julien?"
"He is 'the hermit of Bayou Tortue,'" responded the gentle Celeste deBlanc.
"What pretense of simplicity, look you!" said Charles du Clozel, glancingtowards him disdainfully.
"But look at Madame du Rocher," cried a girl standing on a bench, "how sheis dressed. What contempt of fashion and propriety! It is positivelyshameful."
And Tonton, indifferent to these remarks, which she heard and to which shewas accustomed, and to the furious glances thrown upon her cavalier byNeville Declouet, continued, with her arm in his, to chat and laugh withhim as they walked slowly around the hall.
If I describe to you, my daughter, the toilets of Tonton and of Trevillede Saint Julien, I write it for you alone, dear child, and it seems to meit would be a theft against you if I did not. But this is the last time Ishall stop to describe petticoats, gowns, and knee-breeches. Treville wastwenty-five; large, dark, of a manly, somber beauty. A great unhappinesshad overtaken him in childhood and left a permanent trace on his forehead.He wore his hair slightly long, falling behind without queue or powder. In1795 only soldiers retained their beard. Treville de Saint Julien, despitethe fashion, kept the fine black mustache on his proud lip. His shirt,without a frill, was fastened with three gold buttons. His broad-skirtedcoat, long vest, and breeches were of black woolen stuff. His blackstockings were also
of wool. His garters and shoes were without buckles.But serving him as a garter, and forming a rosette on the front of theleg, he wore a ribbon of plaided rose and black.
And Tonton. Over a dress--a real dress, such as we have nowadays--of rosesatin, with long-pointed waist, was draped another, of black lace. Thefolds, running entirely around the skirt, were caught up by rosessurrounded by their buds and leaves. The same drapery was repeated on thewaist, and in front and on the shoulders re-appeared the roses. Thesleeves were very short, and the arms bare and without gloves. It wassimple, but prettier than you can think. Her hair was in two wide braids,without powder, forming a heart and falling low upon the neck. Among thesetresses she had placed a rose like those on the skirt. For ornaments shehad only a necklace and bracelets of jet to heighten the fresh whitenessof her complexion.
They had said Tonton would die of jealousy at our rich toilets. Nothing ofthe sort. She came to us with her habitual grace, kissed us, ignoringetiquette and the big eyes made by the Countess Madelaine. Without anallusion to our dress or seeming to see it, she sat down between us, toldus persons' names, pointed out the beauty of this one, the pretty dress ofthat one, always admiring, never criticising. She knew well she waswithout a rival.
I amused myself watching Treville and Neville out of the corner of myeyes. Treville seemed to see but one woman in the room. He danced severaltimes, always with her, and when he did not dance he went aside, spokewith no one, but followed with his glances her whom he seemed to adore. Hemade no attempt to hide his adoration; it shone from his eyes: his everymovement was full of it. When she returned to her place, he came, remainedbefore her chair, leaned towards her, listened with ravished ear, andrarely sat down by her side. It was good to watch Neville. His eyesflashed with anger, his fists fidgeted, and more than once I saw him quitthe hall, no doubt to make a quarrel with his rival. Not once did he comenear Tonton! Not once did he dance with her! But he danced with all theyoung girls in the room and pretended to be very gay. While I was dancingwith him I said:
"How pretty Tonton is this evening!" And I understood the spite that madehim reply:
"Ah! mademoiselle, her beauty is certainly not to be compared with yours."
After the supper, which was magnificent, the bolero was danced. Twelvecouples were engaged, continually changing partners. Tonton danced withTreville, Suzanne with Olivier, and I with Neville.
Alas, alas! all things earthly have an end, and at two in the morning theball was over. When we reached our chamber I saw that my sister hadsomething to tell me.
"Ah!" said she, "have patience. I will tell you after we get into bed."
[What she told was the still famous Saint Julien feud. Treville andNeville were representatives of the two sides in that, one of the darkestvendettas known in the traditions of Louisiana. The omission of thisepisode in the present translation is the only liberty taken with theoriginal that probably calls for an apology.]
FOOTNOTES:[21] Number of millions not stated.--TRANSLATOR.
Strange True Stories of Louisiana Page 20
